From behind her Joe Sikes fired three times. Twice at the grendel.
Once lower...
Mary Ann turned and threw up.
Carlos dragged Cadmann into the room. Someone had let the dogs out:
Tweedledum met them at the door, barking and trying to lick the blood off Cadmann's leg. Carlos brushed him aside.
Mary Ann handed her rifle to a now sober Jill and went to Cadmann. He wasn't quite unconscious. He stared up at her, through her, with pain-dilated pupils. He tried to say something. It made no sense.
"Ida," he said.
"Ah." Carlos took out his comcard. "Ida. Cadmann says go now."
Nothing answered.
"I'll go look," Joe Sikes said.
"Get her moving—"
"Sure." Sikes went out through the back of the house.
"We've done what we can," Carlos said.
Cadmann stared at him for a moment, then nodded. All the strength seemed to drain out of him at once.
Mary Ann bent over.
Carlos helped her slit his trouser legs. There was blood, and a sliver of bone knifed out of the left leg. "Spiral fracture," he said. She was amazed at how calm she could be. I'll collapse later. For now she had work to do.
Blood flowed freely from the right thigh. "Venous blood," Carlos said.
"It flows, not spurts. Jill—give us a hand here, please."
Cadmann's mouth worked as he fought to speak. No words came out, but he coughed and a bubble of blood formed at his lips.
"Bruises. Perhaps a punctured lung. The thing fell hard against him," Carlos said.
"You're in charge," Cadmann muttered. "Get out of here."
Carlos looked down helplessly. "I'll find Jerry—"
"He's in the back room," Mary Ann said. "I don't know what you're supposed to do, but it's your job now. We'll find Jerry."
Tweedledum barked in rage at the clerestory.
Something crawled up through the stream. Three of the dogs met it there, crowded to get at it. The grendel, weakened, managed to get its teeth into Tweedledee's neck before the other dogs tore it apart.
Tweedledum turned from the corpse, licked at his sister's wounds. She whined softly and died.
Stu rushed in, rifle in hand. "The Skeeter's up! They're burning out there! Burning and running away—"
There was a sudden burst of gunfire from outside, and twin screams, human and grendel.
The roof sagged, bulged inward. Two grendels fought to push in through the clerestory.
Jill grabbed a spear, shrieked, and stabbed one in the throat. It writhed, whipped its tail, and she backed off. The spear remained in the wound.
It fell into the living room. It pawed weakly at the spear, eyes ablaze with hatred and pain. It tried to go on speed, but had nothing left. They clubbed at it, everyone striking at it, dogs darting in.
The roof collapsed, and two more grendels fell through. One landed nearly atop Jill, and had its jaws in her leg before anyone could move.
Mary Ann shot it, shot again, then turned, hearing a splash. More grendels. More. Coming in up the stream bed, up the stream that ran through the living room.
She fired at full automatic. The gun stopped almost immediately. Out of ammunition. The grendels were still coming. She looked back toward Cadmann—
A river of fire flowed down. It flowed from the bedroom into the living room, under the earthen walls of the house. Flames danced from the water, and Mary Ann thought she had lost her mind.
"Sikes!" Carlos shouted. "He's poured the kerosene in the river!"
Joe Sikes. I owe you. I guess I already paid.
The fire flowed down to engulf the grendels. They turned downstream, fleeing in terror.
And then there was quiet, save for coughing from the smoke. There were no live grendels in the house.
Another volley of shots.
Somewhere a grendel screamed.
The surviving colonists pulled smoldering furniture and cloth against one of the earthen walls, then smothered the heap with a blanket.
Cadmann stirred and looked at Carlos. He tried to say something.
"Madre de Dios," Carlos said. "Shut up for a moment!"
It was very quiet in the room.
The veranda was covered with blood. Four men, one woman, three grendels; all dead.
Below the veranda and as far downhill as Carlos could see, the plateau was littered with corpses. Men and dogs and cattle; but mostly grendels. Hundreds and hundreds of grendels.
Some lay still. Some crawled, torn nearly in half, trailing entrails from shattered bodies. The air hung heavy with the stench of kerosene and burnt meat. Patches of fire burned twenty meters from the veranda. Ida had brought the fires very close indeed.
The stream no longer burned. It was also no longer choked with grendels. They had retreated in front of a river of fire. Grendels seeking cold had fled from the river and died in the hills.
Other people came out of the house and down from the roof. Gunshots from up above the house: one, two, three, then silence. Rick Erin held a bloody spear. He held it high and shook it in defiance.
The command console had been knocked off its table. Hendrick limped over to pick it up and set aright. He touched the switches, and lights glowed.
Tau Ceti was low on the horizon. Carlos limped out to the edge of the plateau and looked out. The mist had dissipated. He looked for grendels on speed, and found none. Here and there a grendel dragged the corpse of a grendel or a cow toward the water. He saw them met by emerging grendels, and torn apart.
Something had happened. Something had changed, and Carlos knew it. The grendels knew it!
Human beings were no longer prey. Man was the ultimate killer on Avalon. Grendels were smart enough to learn. The survivors now stalked each other instead of the aliens from the stars, the creatures who had brought death to thousands of Avalon's former masters.
"Geographic—"
"We're here. Are you all right?"
Hendrick looked toward Carlos. His face was grimy and haggard, his eyes bright. "What do I tell them?"
"Tell them we've won."
Chapter 34
HUNTING PARTY
Leviathan, that great dragon in the sea...
Come not between the dragon and his wrath.
KING LEAR, Act I, Scene I.
Thou shall tread upon the lion and adder: the young lion and the dragon shall thou trample under feet.
PSALM 91:13
It was a small pond up a stream that fed the Miskatonic—a stream not much larger than Cadmann's Amazon. The pond was the nearest possible thing to an oxbow lake, still connected to the stream but without the rushing waters. There were boulders piled at its lower end. Mits Kokubun wondered about those boulders. Could grendels have put them there? Beavers were smart enough to build dams. Why not grendels?
Correction: grendel, singular. They were too damned competitive to cooperate, ever.
A nest of boulders overlooked the pond. It was a good place, high enough and steep enough that the resident grendel would have problems getting there. Mits searched the pond area with his binoculars. "Still nothing."
"Still nothing," Joe Sikes said. "Half the morning gone. Christ, what does it take to get the mother out of there?"
"Some of them just won't come out and fight." Mits tapped his comcard.
"Stu. Still nothing."
"Well, it's there. Samlon in the pool and Geographic photographed the shadow. Those things should have more respect for our explosives shortage. I'll try speed soup again."
"Well, okay, but I don't think it'll do any good."
"So? We've got more speed than explosives. Stand by."
They waited. After a moment Skeeter One skimmed across, twenty meters above the pond. Its cabin had a pebbled, battered look, but it flew well. A thick pinkish mist cascaded down and was blown into the pond scum and into the rocks around its bank.