Chapter 22 #3
Gabriel turned, his hazel eyes narrowing as he judged the distance. It was a good sixty yards or so, and while the fighting had moved off, it was still out in the open.
“I’ll do it.” Tommy stood up, wiping his bloody hands on his pants. “I ran track in high school.”
Gabriel’s face was grim, but it was Phin who reacted. He shouldered past Gabriel. “The fuck you will.”
“I’m the only one who can,” Tommy responded, completely unaffected by Phin’s outburst. “Everyone else is either hurt or needed here. Blake needs to stay with Judd, and Gabriel will need to help carry Judd out of here.” Tommy reached for Phin’s wrist, squeezing it with a small smile. “I can do this. I know I can.”
“You don’t even know how to fire that thing!”
“Neither does anyone else,” Tommy said, his voice surprisingly even. “I’ll figure it out.”
The plane rocked again, the metal burning hot where another round had hit it. They were rapidly losing what cover they had. It was a bad plan, and Blake regretted coming up with it.
Below him, Judd wheezed. Victoria cupped his cheeks, wiping some blood from around his nose and mouth.
“We need to get him out of here.” Blake hated himself for saying it.
Gabriel looked between Judd, Blake, and then Tommy. He swallowed before nodding tersely. “Okay. But be quick. If you can’t figure out a way to fire, get out of there. You hear me?”
Tommy let go of Phin, but before he could turn around, the big soldier grabbed him.
Tugging him close, he wrenched the helmet off his own head and plopped it onto Tommy’s.
It was far too big, slipping over to land on the bridge of his nose.
Grumbling and cursing, Phin tightened the chin straps until it stopped sliding too much.
“Keep your head down, kid,” he said gruffly, big hand knocking onto the top of his helmet. “And run fast.”
Tommy grinned weakly, lifting a fist. “Team Oh Shit, right?”
And then he was off.
For all the jibes about being vegan, Blake could admit that Tommy was fit. He ducked his head and powered through, ignoring the bullets and screams, eyes on the prize. Blake thought he looked like a whippet.
Phin and Gabriel took up positions to defend them and cover Tommy. Phin looked like he wanted to chew glass. Blake hoped his hunch was right—that the aliens might be willing to overlook a single, unarmed human.
Tommy pounded across the pavement, making shockingly good time. He had to backtrack once when a Handler round went wide and took out the pavement directly in front of him. When he got to the downed alien, he went down hard, hiding behind the bulk of the Handler while he fiddled with the guns.
“Hurry up!” Phin hissed.
“Don’t worry,” Blake said, as he reached down to count Judd’s pulse.
“Tommy plays a lot of video games. If anyone can figure out the tech, he can.” He left out the fact that Tommy mostly played cozy mobile phone games where he could grow crops and raise animals.
He didn’t think that would be comforting.
Tommy was lying on his belly, trying to keep low as he worked. It was difficult to see what he was doing, but he was doing something, so that was good.
Gabriel looked down at Blake. “Is he safe to move?”
“Not really,” Blake huffed. “Not really safe to stay, either. Just…help me get him up.”
Together with Victoria, they got Judd up with one arm around Blake’s shoulders and the other around Gabriel. Victoria helped support him from behind.
“As soon as Tommy fires that thing, we have to go. Don’t look back, just run,” Gabriel ordered.
They got into position just as Tommy moved, putting his feet on the downed Handler’s shoulders and pulling with his entire body. Something on the alien shifted, and then the gun fired. The force sent the body flying backward, skidding across the asphalt and taking Tommy with it.
Gabriel hauled Blake forward before he could see what was happening. Phin was charging ahead, running as fast as his bum leg would let him. An unconscious Judd was a lot heavier than a conscious Phin, and he felt his muscles straining under the weight. It hurt, but he didn’t stop.
When the smoke cleared, he was able to see that the incendiary round had managed to punch a hole in the wall.
It wasn’t very big, but sunlight was filtering through.
Relief washed over him. Tommy did it! Twisting, he tried to find Tommy, but all he could see was Judd’s head, until he hoisted him up a little higher. Blake’s heart sank.
Tommy was sprawled out on his back, trapped under the Handler.
When the gun fired, the recoil had been so severe that it sent the downed alien flying back twenty yards, close to the upright plane wing, crushing Tommy’s lower half under its crumpled torso.
Tommy was conscious, Phin’s helmet lopsided on his head.
He was desperately pulling and pushing at the big alien to free himself, but there was no way.
Phin got there first, immediately trying to lift the alien enough so Tommy could crawl out from under it. But it was too heavy, its matte sides slick—Phin couldn’t get a good grip. He snarled in frustration, teeth bared as he braced to lift.
Gabriel handed Judd off to Victoria. The weight on Blake increased, but he bit back a groan, watching as Gabriel joined Phin, his face drawn. “Maybe if we find something to lift it—” he looked around, but froze in horror when amidst the carnage, he saw a Monkey Cat prowling toward them.
It had broken off from the fight, head low, shoulders undulating under its thick hide as it stepped toward them. To Blake, it almost looked smug as it turned its head, getting a good look at them with its intact eye.
“It’s the same one,” Victoria whispered, her grip tightening on Judd.
Gabriel looked back at them and caught Blake’s eye. There was something about his expression, something Blake didn’t recognize. He held his stare for a long moment before he straightened his shoulders and withdrew his handgun. He stepped away from Tommy and turned toward the Monkey Cat.
“Get out of here,” he called back, lifting his gun and popping off rounds at the alien’s head.
“Gabriel!” Blake shouted, trying to duck out from under Judd to go after him. Victoria stopped him.
“I can’t do this alone,” she pleaded, her fingers digging into Blake’s arm. “Please.”
Blake couldn’t take his eyes off Gabriel’s back. The way he deftly side stepped, drawing the Monkey Cat’s attention toward him. His shots were evenly spaced apart, more for distraction than anything else.
Don’t do this, Blake begged, knowing he couldn’t let go. That he couldn’t go to Gabriel. Not when it meant leaving Victoria and Judd.
Phin had found a piece of cement and was able to work it under the Handler, pulling Tommy free. The EMT stumbled forward, his legs wobbly. He and Phin clutched each other as they stumbled back toward the opening.
Victoria moved to follow them, but Blake couldn’t make his feet move. He couldn’t just…they couldn’t leave Gabriel. Not like this. Not when they were so close.
“Blake!” Victoria shouted. “Now. We have to go now!”
He could feel Judd’s blood wet against his hand, seeping through the bandages. He needed to lie down. He needed help.
Blake bit his cheek and took a step forward. And then another. It was agony. He twisted his head so he could try and see Gabriel, as if keeping him in his sights would somehow protect him.
Gabriel kept firing until his gun clicked.
Empty.
He was completely unarmed.
The thing reeked.
That was the first thing Gabriel thought when the Monkey Cat swung at him. Like a combination of sweat, old tomatoes, and something he couldn’t quite identify. It sat heavy in the back of his throat, lodged there like it was going to stick.
It took another lazy swipe, like it was fucking with him. Those claws just barely skimmed past him, points raking through the air with a whoosh that sent chills down his spine as he lurched backward, desperate to avoid being skewered. At least until the others could get away.
Gabriel was still holding the gun. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the old warrior’s creed about dying with his weapon—although if he had to choose, he would want to die with something cooler than a 9mm. Or maybe it was just because if he dropped it, he would feel unarmed.
For whatever reason, he was still holding it in his right hand, keeping one eye on the alien and the other on the group. Blake was hesitating. Leave, Gabriel wanted to scream. Once Blake was gone, once he was safe, he could breathe. Focus on dying in the least terrible way possible.
The Monkey Cat reared back and jumped forward, its teeth snapping in his face. Gabriel used the butt of his gun to bash it in the mouth. It was a good hit. The alien stumbled back, a tooth clattering to the ground.
As it shook its head, Gabriel got a good look at the eye Victoria shot up. He was surprised to see that the small, black eye was more like a sunglasses lens. The Monkey Cat’s real eye was below, recessed into its skull and small. Like a mole or something.
Gabriel gasped as he backed up into something. His back struck the plane wing. It was slanted up, torn off from the fuselage. It wasn’t the entire wing, but it was big enough that he couldn’t get around it.
The Monkey Cat wasn’t playing with him; it was cornering him.
Wielding the gun like a bat, he braced himself when the Monkey Cat struck again.
This time with its claws, the four digits splayed for the most damage.
His gun was useless against the muscular limb, flying from Gabriel’s hand as a sharp pain screamed across his bicep.
The tips of the claws had sunk into his flesh, sharp as knives.
Already, his right arm felt weak, wanting to go limp at his side.
The Monkey Cat’s tail swished behind it as it turned its head to get a good look at Gabriel. He stuck his good hand in his pocket, fingering the crochet hook. God, this thing is ugly, he thought as he watched it, waiting for that final blow.