White Space (Page 70)

“OHHH!” Tania shrieked. Bright red blood jetted from her right shoulder. She tried twisting away, but that clawed hand only dug in, slashing deeper, and gave her another mighty yank, tearing her halfway from her seat.

“No!” Rima lunged. Snatching double fistfuls of Tania’s parka, she braced herself, planting one boot against Tania’s seat, the other against the transmission box, and heaved. “I’ve got you, Tania! Pull, Tania, pull!”

“I c-can’t—aahhh!” Jammed against the shattered window, unable to pull free, Tania screamed again. Her shoulder harness had snapped. The only thing saving her from going through altogether was that the window was just a touch too small. “I can’t, Rima! It’s too strong, it’s too—”

Going to lose her, going to lose her! Or whatever had her would tear Tania apart a piece at a time. Frantic, Rima tried to think of what to do, something she could use. The rifle was gone. There was the dropped hammer, but she would have to loosen her grip on Tania to find it, and patting around the foot well would take precious time she didn’t think they had. So what else was there? More tools in the equipment lockers in the passenger cab? Maybe, but there was no time, no time!

So she let go of Tania and did the only thing left.

3

EVERY STEP BROUGHT a blast of fresh agony, but after the first five steps, the pain wasn’t worse, just constant. The important thing was Casey was on his feet, and he’d found the shotgun. Ahead, he saw the things swarming over the snowcat; heard the explosion as the glass let go and then a scream. Why weren’t they moving? He was still too far away to do any good with the gun, and he couldn’t afford to waste shells, especially since he didn’t know how many he had left. Tania took two shots, maybe three, in the church. He was pretty sure there was a round in the chamber; he’d racked the pump, but he didn’t know all that much about guns. God, he didn’t even know how to check. How many shells did a shotgun hold? What if there was no shell in there at all?

Just got to hope there is, and that I’ll have time to get close enough for one good shot. To do that, he’d have to get right on top of them, because he was pretty sure that shotguns weren’t as good as rifles, didn’t have the range, and he didn’t much trust his aim anyway. If he could just get there in time.

Then, he heard the snowcat’s engine grind, and felt a burst of elation. Yes, yes, come on, Rima; get it going, get it—

The cat turned over once, twice, coughed, and then revved to a howl.

“Yes!” Casey cried, ignoring the fresh lancets of pain that stabbed at his chest. He pumped his fist. “Hit the gas, Rima, hit the gas! Go! GO!”

4

WITH THE CAT still in neutral, Rima stamped on the accelerator. The engine responded with an earsplitting clatter, followed by a bark that ground and gathered itself in a whooping crescendo shriek—and then she slapped the transmission lever with all her might. The cat dropped into drive and surged forward, its treads ripping snow with a great, shuddering roar.

Through the shattered window, above the clatter and squeal of the cat’s treads, there came another, new note: a high, shrieking wail as the thing that had Tania lost its balance on the running board. Too late, Rima thought, Oh God, don’t foul the treads! She held her breath as the cat lurched, that side bumping up and then crashing down—

5

ON THE SNOW, now no more than seventy yards away, Casey watched as the cat swung round; saw clearly—and heard—the moment when the man-thing was reeled, squealing, beneath the cat’s treads. Its shriek abruptly cut out as if hacked by an ax.

Yes, yes! But where were the other two? Shaken off? Run away? No, they wouldn’t leave; he knew that. So where? His eyes raked the snow and then sharpened on the cat once more.

“Rima!” God, could she hear him over the engine roar? He was running as fast as he could, but he was still managing nothing more than a staggering stumble that was slow, much too slow! “Rima, the roof! There’s one on the—”

6

GOT YOU. EASING back on the gas, Rima felt the growling cat grind to a halt. She was shaking all over. I got you.

Tania moaned, and when Rima got a good look, that fleeting sparrow of triumph fled. The other girl’s parka was scarlet. More blood was spurting from Tania’s right shoulder, the entire arm only just hanging on by a thread of torn flesh and splintered bone.

“Rima.” Tania’s voice was less than a whisper, and so weak there was barely any sound at all. Already whiter than salt, her face was going translucent and glassy, the color bleaching away. “R-Rima?”

“Oh God.” Rima started to unwind Tony’s scarf, still knotted around her neck. If she could slow down that bleeding, get them to someone who could help. In the school, the nurse’s office, there’s got to be—

There was an enormous, splintery crash, followed by the instantaneous hoosh of cold air. Rima’s eyes jerked front, expecting to see a fist pistoning for her face. But the windshield was intact. Oh shit. Heart thudding, Rima inched round to look over her shoulder and back toward the passenger cab. In the next instant, a thin, strangled, squeaky sound midway between a moan and a scream dribbled from her mouth: “Ohhh!”

This second man-thing was much taller and beefier, with a dense, furry ruff sprouting from its neck and glistening skin as slick as a black grub’s. When it saw Rima look, the creature’s yellow eyes lit with a feverish, feral gleam. Its lips skinned back from a bristle of teeth and a tongue as ropy and muscular as a black snake.

Time seemed to hesitate for a span no longer than the pause between two heartbeats. In that moment, Rima heard the splash of Tania’s blood and her faltering breath growing weaker and weaker; she could smell the man-thing, wild and animal and utterly alien, and taste it, too, rank and raw in her mouth. She even had time to wonder about Casey, who must be dead by now, torn apart, because where there was one thing and then two, there were probably a lot more.

And she had time to know this: she could run or she could fight, simple as that.

Without taking her eyes from the thing, she squatted, reached down—and felt her fingers close around the hammer.

Fight.

BODE

Whatever This Place Makes Next

“WHAT IS THIS stuff?” The billowing fog surrounding the Dodge sponged up all sound, so that Chad’s voice came out flat and, Bode thought, a little dead. “Can’t see for shit. You ever seen anything like this, Bode?”