Authors: Greever Williams
“You can take your mangy pet and go s
traight back to hell, you son of a
bitch!
” he
yelled up at Preacher
.
He was amazed at how confident and calm the words came out of him
.
The
ursataur
on the porch
growled deep and
long
.
Steve knew it understood
.
Preacher’s smile faltered, but he
quickly
regained his air of pseudo-benevolence
.
He
bowed his head, eyes disappearing under his broad-brimmed
hat
.
His wristwatch began beeping incessantly. Preacher lifted his arm and pressed a button. The alarm ceased.
When he
looked up
again, he wore a wide smile
.
“Oh, I am sorry. Time is up,” he nodded.
He dropped the
length of
his coiled whip onto the tin roof and gave his wrist a quick twist to uncoil its barbs
.
When he
opened his mouth as if to speak
, it
reminded Steve of
a
garbage disposal w
orking too hard to
chew up
its load
—
guttural and
gurgling
.
The
ursataur
looked up at where Preacher stood, seeming to see him through the roof above. The guttural noises continued
,
and Preacher pointed a
hookish
finger at Stev
e. The beast responded back.
Steve
knew Preacher had
issued
the
kill
order
.
Veronica
knew
it
,
too.
“NO!” she screamed and
emptied the clip, firing
at
the
Preacher
.
Steve crouched low over Abby and braced for impact
.
He
heard the staccato repeat of the
two remaining
bullets
.
The first went
wide
,
but the other found
its
mark, hitting
Preacher
in the back
.
He
stumbled
, then
recovered
quickly
.
When he
turned to face her
,
Veronica
was already running straight at him
.
At the same time, t
he
ursataur
had leapt off the porch and was crossing the small bit of lawn between Steve and itself
.
Veronica
hit Preacher dead-on with a shoulder to his narrow midsection
.
She caught him
off guard
,
and
he
had no time to defend against the blow
.
Even though
she was only 1
1
5 pounds, s
he looked to Steve like
a
massive lineman catching a tiny quarterback in a
wide-open
blitz
.
Her momentum carried them both to the edge of the tin roof and
then
over
.
Veronica
was screaming in rage
.
Steve screamed back
, all too aware
that
the demon beast was only yards away
.
Preacher flew through the air
, with
Veronica
locked on top of him
in an embrace borne out of hate
.
The beast was so inte
nt on reaching Steve that
it never saw the danger above
.
Preacher and
Veronica
hit the beast with their full combined weight
.
The creature’s tremendous rack of antlers
impaled
the
m both
on impact
.
Preacher screamed in writhing agony with a shrill cry like a massive turbine
engine
moving too fast
.
Veronica
screamed as well, but
refused
to
let go
.
From his angle, Steve could see that Preacher, being on the bottom, had taken the brunt
of their landing
.
The
ursataur
’s antlers rose up
like
tiny bloody mountains across Preacher body, piercing his
arms, a leg and his
neck.
His body convulsed, but between the
impaling
and
Veronica
’s weight, he could do little more than jerk his one free leg in a useless spasm.
Steve
could tell that
at least half a dozen of the massive horns had pierced
Veronica
. She gritted her t
eeth as she stared
directly into
Preacher
’s face
.
His bulging eyes
and
his lolling tongue were inches from her
own
face
.
She could smell his rotting-apple breath with its sickly warmth
.
It smelled of mold, death.
The beast
below them
whirled about like a drunken marionette, paws in the air, trying to reach them with
its
talons.
Steve made his move
.
He left Abby on the ground and scurried to his fallen axe
.
He ran at the beast, prepared to wade in
and
do what he could while it was distracted. As he approached, ducking low,
the beast grabbed
Veronica
’s leg
.
It sank its claws into her calf and tried to pull her free
.
She screamed
,
but held tight
to
Preacher. Steve moved behind the beast, pulled back on the axe and swung hard and high at the
ursataur
’s back
.
He hit its neck below the base of its skull
.
The rusty axe pierced muscles and bone, severing the beast
’
s spine. It let out
a
low mewling
,
like a calf
,
and then fell forward onto the ground.
Its
top heavy framed crashed forward into the
earth,
and
Veronica
could no longer hold her grip. She fell to the ground
and landed
on her back
.
Preacher was still impaled,
hanging
sideways on the massive antlers, face near the dirt
.
The
ursataur
beneath him pawed at the ground
.
Gouts of black blood spewed from its nearly severed neck every few seconds
,
in time with its fading pulse. It was dying, snout down in the dirt
.
With Preacher’s weight and its broken neck, it could no longer support the weight of its own head
.
It moaned
and tried to push its head up from the ground, but it was too weak
.
Each time it snorted a breath, a tiny cloud of
dust exploded around its face.
Steve
rushed to
Veronica
and cradled her head
.
She was bleeding from a dozen
gouges
in her chest, arms and legs. Her face was scratched and bloody.
He
wiped the blood from her face
, and although h
er eyes were glassy,
she managed to focus on hi
m.
“Steve
.”
“I’m here,
Veronica
.”
“I think we
-—“ She
halted, arching her back as the pain hit her, “I think we
. . .
we
. . .
did it.”
“No, you did it
.
”
She
reached up and grabbed his hand. She
squeezed
once, hard
.
“Thank you, Steve.
Biker was right about you.”
She coughed
.
Tears fell from the corners of her eyes
.
She groaned and her face twisted into a scowl
.
Steve’s tears
flowed freely
.
“Take care of them,” she whispered
.
When she
exhaled for the last time
,
h
er grip went loose
i
n
his. He wept as h
e
let her go
.
Then he
heard the faint
,
taunting laugh again.
Rut rut rut rut rut
Preacher hung sideways from the antlers,
pinned
,
but staring at Steve.
His laugh mocked Steve’s pain, but it was raspy and Steve could hear a wet gurgling that made it much less threatening. He looked at Steve,
his
milky eyes bulging
.
He opened his mouth to speak
,
but the antler piercing his throat kept any sound from coming out. He coughed
,
and flecks of black blood splattered up his face.
Even from
a
distance, Steve could smell his evil
.
It was ripe, overripe
,
rotten fruit, a compost heap.
Preacher’s presence tainted the air
, and
Steve taste
d
the death on his tongue
—
bitterness
that he tried to spit out.
“Reap what you sow, you evil bastard,”
he
said, gritting his teeth.
Then he
looked around
,
hoping to locate his rusty axe for one final job.
Rut rut rut ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu
oooooooooooooooooo
The
wet laugh turned into a loud intake of breath.
Preacher began to suck in air with the force of a jet engine. His body began to tremble
,
but
it
remained pinned on the
ursataur
’s antlers.
He stared at Steve.
His inhalin
g continued, long and loud
,
until it became a whirring vibration that began to shake his body. The pitch increased with the volume. He smiled, opening his lips wide
.
Inky black blood and drool covered his
tall
teeth
and curling lips
.
The
smile grew
until it
became a sneer.
Recognition hit Steve like a sucker punch to the face.
Preacher wasn’t going to go quietly.
He saw his axe nearby
,
but thought better of it.
He
scrambled to Abby
and picked her up around the waist
.
With a
grunt,
he lifted her and stood up. He could no longer see Preacher
,
but the whirring had turned into a high
-
pitched whine. It reminded Steve of a blaring test of the Emerge
ncy Broadcast System
.
P
erhaps
this
was the ultimate test.