Exterminators Infected (The Exterminators Book 1) (22 page)

The jelly-looking creature shot his other free tentacle right into Fred's stomach. Fred flew back and hit his head hard on a pole near the sidewalk. He went unconscious almost immediately. The beast screamed again, this time for victory.

Nick grabbed his Rod. He was trying to figure out what could do to damage a scarecrow. He'd never faced an Unknown like it. It was mostly made of straw, so fire would be his weapon. He hadn't used the elemental weapons enough to really fight well with. He was a more hands-on person. “I need your help.”

“What can I do?” Peter asked panting.

“Form those elemental gloves.”

“But-”

“I need just two shots. You got that in you?”

Peter looked at the determined Nick. He could feel a sense of conviction in the boy. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

“All right. Stay here. I'll let you know when I need you.” Nick said. He walked from out of the car and faced the Scarecrow.

The face looked so happy it came off as scary. Its eyes and mouth were plastered in an overly cheerful way that made him want to run away. Its body was made of straw, sharp, and mixed with spikes that looked extremely sharp. The right side of it was made of bone. The purple hooks on its hands made it even deadlier up close. It was dressed in reddish-colored clothes that made it stand out in the wintery background. “Man, I hate anything related to Halloween,” Nick said forming his Rod into a big wooden bat.
The creature laughed. It was hollow and heavy, as if to provoke him to fight. He laughed back. “I like an Unknown with a sense of humor. You guys are far too serious all the time.” Nick pointed the bat at him. “Batters up.” Nick strutted towards the creature. It laughed again and then turned around. Spikes lined up, pointing towards him. He flinched as the Scarecrow threw its hands up. A bunch of the straw spikes flew out. He jumped to the side but wasn't fast enough and he was struck with three of the straw spines. They were only a few inches long but they were sharp enough to break through skin. He cursed under his breath as he ripped them out of his arm. One of the longer, deadlier, spikes laid only inches away from him; impaled deep into the car door he leaned against.

“I thought you were supposed to be a funny one.” He got up and gritted his teeth. “You're just as nasty as the others. My turn.” As the Scarecrow turned around Nick came full swing. The bat connected right where the Unknown's face was. The Scarecrow's whole upper half bent backwards, as if it was about to snap in half. Then it came right back up and unleashed one of its hooks at him. He threw his bat up and the hook grabbed on to it. It yanked it out of his hand and flung it behind itself. With its free hand it tried to swipe at Nick. He rolled to the left, out of reach. He then darted behind the creature trying to recover his weapon.

The Scarecrow laughed and shot out more spikes and pines from behind. Four of the spikes impaled the ground right near his feet, one grazing the side of his leg. He rolled again, forward, snatching his bat in the process. He ran up the stairs and hid behind the porches wall.

The Scarecrow laughed more. An evil, sinister, and loud laugh as if it were toying with its prey. It was amused to watch Nick run around in circles. As if this was all just a big game and the prize was to finally kill the victim.

“Are you okay?” Peter shouted from behind the car.

“Just fine and dandy!” Nick said sarcastically. He touched the wound on his leg. He had been in far worse situations. He wasn't about to give up so easily. “So the bat didn't do a thing. My plan is still in effect, though.”

“Yeah, about that plan. You never told me what it is.” Peter checked his hands. They were shaking. He could feel the energy slowly leave his body. “I can't keep up these elemental gloves much longer. I need to act.”

“Soon. Just listen for my call.” Nick tightened his grip on the bat.

The room was flickering. The once brightly lit room was now barely keeping any light on in it. Fred had to wonder what was happening. He'd never seen the room like this. “Hey, other self, you here?” He asked the room. There was no response.

He got up and walked to the walls. He could feel the hollowness. As if he could punch it with only a part of his strength and it would shatter. He wondered if this is what he was supposed to do. Break the walls down and let himself out of this containment.

He heard screams from afar. He shot his head back to where he came from but nothing was there. Yet he could still hear a faint sound from that area. “Hey other self, is that you?” Again there was no response. Despite that the yells kept coming from that direction.

“This is freaking me out,” he muttered under his breath. He took a step to the side and for one split second could hear the yell. It was loud, as if it was right in his ear. All he could hear was a scream. So loud, so scared, dying. It was one he had heard before. It was Marshall.

“Marshall!? Where are you?” He looked in every direction but saw nothing. He touched the walls, trying to push them in. They felt like they would give in at any second. “Marshall where are you? Answer me man!” he screamed.

“Do not break the walls!” The room's voice came alive. The room flickered worse than before. It was as if it was giving out.

“Why not!?” he yelled angrily. He wanted so bad to break the walls yet he had no clue what urged him to do so.

“You need to stay here. To rest.”

“No! You keep saying I shouldn't break these walls but you never tell me why!” He roared in anger. He could hear his friend's screams. They were getting louder. “Tell me now before I break these damn walls down!”

“If you break them, you are free. Breaking them will make you understand anger. Will make you feel power like you never felt. It will show you the meaning of fear.” The room's voice sounded upset. As if it already knew he made up his mind.

“I don't have a choice. I have to save him,” He let his voice lower. “I can't watch my best friend die.”

“You might die.”

It struck him hard. Up until this point he never thought about death. Every once in a while after a mission he wondered if he made a mistake what would have happen. Him dying, how people would react to that? Yet, up until then, he never sat and really thought about it. What happens if he dies, then what? All this fighting, all this killing, is it all worth the price of death? He never questioned it. Now, he was forced to answer it.

“You said might. There's a chance I won't.”

“If you don't die, you will suffer.”

“If I watch him die, I'll suffer anyway.”

“It is your choice now. I gave you options and you keep dismissing them. I won't hold you back any longer. You can stay here, rest, sleep, let the dangers of life pass you by. Or you can head off and save your friend. Will your friend be grateful though? What if a fate much worse is held for him. Then what?” The voice let the question linger. It was a tough one to handle. He never thought about the what-ifs in situations.

“You probably think I'm crazy but in life we only live “what ifs”. What if I did this? What if I did that? What if I never met him? What if I never saw this letter? What if I died against that first Unknown. What if, What if, What if. What if I stand here and wait another few minutes while my friend gets broken into two. What if. Well, I gotta stop worrying about that. I just have to do what I think is right and hope for the best.” He looked at the wall, placing his hand on it and felt its coldness. “I have to chance to do something different. To help people that need helping and-” He pulled his hand back. “-I can't ask what if I'm doing the right thing. I have to act on it!” He threw his fist forward. It shattered the wall. He was then thrown into complete darkness.

Nick rolled from one side of the wall to the next on the porch. The second he came out of cover the Scarecrow unleashed a few pines and a spike. All missed, but barely. Its aim was getting too close for his liking. He bit his lip as he leaned against the wall.
“If I make one mistake we're both dead...”
Another three pines came flying overhead. They landed into the side of the house.
“...then again if I sit here we're dead anyway.”
Peter came from behind the car and threw a ball of fire. It was a weak throw, as if it was his first time throwing a baseball. It was so weak it rolled oddly to the side of the Unknown. However, the creature was so focused on Nick he didn't bother to look to the side. Peter opened his palm wide and the ball blew into flames. It caught the Scarecrow on its side. It hollered in anger as it tried to brush off its straw side with the boney hand.
Nick peered out from cover. He saw Peter leaning on the curb. “I told you to stay still!” He roared. He rolled out of cover and on to the lawn. He came from behind the Unknown and gave it a hearty swing. The bat smashed the back of its head hard, yet the creature came right back up from it. It was more worried about putting out the fire.

“I thought you needed some help,” Peter muttered as Nick came closer.

“Yeah, but now you can't even stand.” Nick watched as the Scarecrow got most of the fire to simmer down.

“Yeah, well looks like this thing is invincible.” Peter could barely catch his breath. He was heaving, as if the gloves were killing him.

“Take those off.” Nick looked back at the Unknown. It was getting the fire out of its hat now.

“I can't. You need them.”
“I need you not to die.”
“I'm fi...”
“I said take them off.” Nick looked back at the Scarecrow. Just then as the smoke was rising into the air from the creature he figured it out. “Wait. You have one more in you?”

“Yeah, I think I can create one more.” Peter gripped tightly to Nick's arm. Nick could feel the sweaty palm as he helped him to his feet. He looked into his friend’s eyes. Anger, determination, conviction. All these were burning through Peter. Nick saw what he needed to take down this creature.

“Put the fire on the bat.” Peter looked up, puzzled. “I need you to make this bat on fire.”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it.” Peter placed his hand on the bat. “Hurry!” The Scarecrow turned around. readying itself for another spike launch.

The bat ignited quickly. It started in the middle and as Peter made his way up the bat it followed in a wave. After it was done Peter collapsed to the ground. “Hey, you alright?”

Peter returned the gloves to Rod form. He looked up at his partner, one eye shut. “That's all I got. Your turn.”

Nick nodded. He looked forward, his bat lit up the entire dark night. The cold air couldn't even lessen the flames that waved so viciously. “All right funny guy, time to burn you down. Get it? Burn you down.” The creature laughed as its spikes and pines readied themselves. “Glad you liked your own death joke.”

Nick rushed forward; the pines and spikes came at him. He moved to the side, putting his free hand up to his face. He could feel the pines striking his leg, his stomach, even one in his finger. He pushed forward but then a spike came flying towards his face. He put his palm up and the spike impaled it. He was almost thrown back but he pushed forward. Using one hand he swung with everything he had. It slammed into the creatures face, flames bursting all over. It crumpled to the ground fast, trying to slap away the flames.
Nick knew this was his one chance. He tried to swallow the pain he was suffering in his injured hand. It hurt so much he was beginning to feel dizzy but he lifted his bat high above his head. It came down on the Unknowns stomach. Flames caught on the straw quickly. The beast cried out. Nick continued. He slammed his bat on the creature's leg. It also caught on fire. He slammed it again on the chest. Fire was spreading quickly. He slammed it again on the face, repeatedly. Screaming, cursing, and crying. He wanted nothing left when he stopped hitting. After a minute or so of constant bashing he let up. He looked down to see the creature was entirely on fire. He could hear the fire making a crack and pop sound as the smoke rose into the air. He stepped back, pointing the bat at the blazing creature. “Exterminators one, crazy psycho Scarecrow zero.” He smiled. He transformed the flaming bat back to a Rod. He placed it on his belt, hit the beeper, and sat down watching the fire grow bigger.

Marshall was doing everything he could to fight back. However, the tentacle was squeezing tighter the harder he fought back. He could barely breathe now and could feel his back giving out at any moment. He couldn't believe he might die, not like this. He could feel his arms losing their power as he was slowly drifting out of focus.

He remembered his friends. He finally had the connection he did with Fred that he had years ago. Someone he could talk to, count on, be himself around. He finally got that back. Nick and him got along well enough, always fighting over who calls the commands and does what. It was a simple matter of butting heads but he learned to respect his new friend. Then there was Peter, the odd one out. Yet, he couldn't help but feel he could count on him in battle. As he cried out again when the tentacle got tighter he could only think that he was about to lose all of that.

Then as quickly as he was scooped up he was dropped down. He fell on his feet, feeling all the weight of gravity hit hard. He tumbled over and the tentacle let loose. He could feel the blood in his body rushing back. His arms beginning to regain the strength he once had. His feet were beginning to work again.

Though he heard a terrible screech from the beast, he ignored it. He needed to focus on recovering before the beast struck again. He heard another terrible squishing sound. He heard the Unknown howl again in pain. Blood sprayed all over the docks in front of him. He looked to his side to see Fred standing there, in front of the beast.