The monster snorted and stepped forward. Its legs were powerful, built like a cat’s hind legs but with apelike feet.
Hawkins saw a scratch on the upper-right edge of the creature’s turtle shell carapace. Had his knife strike been a few inches higher, he would have struck the unprotected neck.
The bristles on the monster’s back shook and rattled as she lowered her body to the ground like a cat about to pounce.
And then she did.
The lunge was so quick that Hawkins barely had time to avoid it, despite being ready and nearly thirty feet away. He dove to the side, rolled to his feet, and swung out wildly with the machete. He thought she’d have landed close, or even started a second attack, but his swing found nothing but empty air.
He spun, looking for her, but the giant had somehow vanished. Hawkins noticed the growing shadow surrounding him at the same moment Joliet shouted, “Above you!”
He didn’t bother looking up. He didn’t have to. He just did the only thing he could: he fell back. Striking the ground knocked the wind from his lungs, but was nothing compared to the crushing weight that landed atop him. He’d meant to raise the machete and hope the blade resting against the solid earth coupled with the thing’s own body weight would be enough to drive the blade through the carapace, but the weapon was batted away just before she landed atop him.
The only reason he was still alive was because she’d only placed one hand against his chest. The rest of her weight was dispersed through her other limbs.
A long finger extended out over Hawkins’s face. He recognized it as the same talon-tipped finger that had easily plucked Joliet from the old laboratory’s window. It twitched over his eye like a scorpion stinger.
“You don’t have to do this, Kaiju,” Hawkins said quickly. He didn’t think he could talk his way out of this fight, but maybe he could delay it. When the finger didn’t immediately impale his skull, he thought he was right.
Pulse, pulse, pulse.
The finger tensed, primed and ready to strike.
Or not.
Hawkins pulled the trigger.
Two inches of steal shot out and punched a hole in the carapace. The shell was at least an inch thick, so the wound wasn’t severe, but the sudden and perhaps unfamiliar pain sent the creature flying. It reacted like a cat, springing into the air, flailing wildly with a shriek of surprise.
Bennett clapped his free hand against his other arm. “Well done! I do believe you are the first person—or creature—to cause her injury outside of the operating table.”
The monster twitched and spun, searching for the source of the pain. When she found the hole in her chest, she stopped. She inspected the wound with the long finger of her aye-aye hand. When the talon poked through the hole and found flesh, she winced, staggered back, and leveled her eyes at Hawkins.
He barely noticed as he reloaded his last compressed charge into the bolt stunner.
But when she let out a roar that was both high and low pitched, like two voices conjoined, he noticed. And nearly dropped the charge. But he got it in place and snapped the weapon closed.
She slapped her hands hard against the ground, pulled her hind legs in tight, and then propelled herself forward with all of her unnatural strength. Hawkins dove again, this time in the direction of the machete.
He missed being struck by the monster’s bulk, but a backhand from the polar bear claw as she passed sent him sprawling. Pain shot down his leg from his thigh where he’d been struck.
When Hawkins heard Joliet cry out with concern, his core filled with rage. So far he’d been on the defensive. Reacting instead of acting. He’d gotten in a lucky blow, but it would be his last if he didn’t at least try to alter the outcome of this fight. He climbed to his feet with an angry shout.
The monster had just finished its charge and turned to face him.
This time, he attacked.
The creature seemed taken aback by this small man screaming and running at it.
So he ran faster. Straight ahead. With the bolt stunner ready to go, he planned to leap right at the thing, get inside its reach, and get the bolt stunner against its head. At the very least, the beast would be knocked unconscious, at best, it would be dead. Kam wouldn’t have wanted it, but it had to be done.
Hawkins dove, leaping high to reach the creature’s forehead. He nearly made it when he was batted aside. The strike was almost casual, though it felt like a truck had struck him in the side. He got back to his feet with a grunt. Most of the fight had been taken out of him with the one blow.
But the creature didn’t press the attack. It just circled him slowly. Is it toying with me? he wondered. It did have feline attributes, but wasn’t sure if that was the case. Doesn’t matter, he decided, and charged again.
This time he never even got to lunge. The creature swiped its polar bear claws across his chest. The caked mud covering the paw and five sharp claws formed a dusty cloud at the point of impact.