“Mark!” Joliet screamed.
He dove for her legs as she continued to rise out of the window, but her feet slipped outside before he arrived. He collided with the wall and fell to the floor, but wasted no time springing back to his feet. He thrust himself halfway out the window and looked up. Framed by the nearly black sky, he saw Joliet being pulled up the side of the concrete building. Above her loomed a massive shadow he recognized from the Magellan.
It’s the same thing that took DeWinter!
“Joliet!” he screamed. “Avril!”
And then they were gone, up and over, onto the roof.
Hawkins flung himself back into the hallway. He snatched up the rifle as he ran for the exit. Bray followed on his heels and together they made short work of the pallet barricade. Hawkins ripped open the door and charged into the darkness.
The night’s cool air felt like a cold winter day, causing goose bumps to rise on his skin. He ran out into the field. His sudden appearance and rapid approach sent goats fleeing. Their bleats and jangling bells blocked out all other noises.
Hawkins spun with the rifle, looking for a target.
Where did you go? he thought. Where did you go!
He found his answer when he looked up.
So far from civilization, the stars were already out in force. Every constellation imaginable filled the night sky. The Milky Way cut across the center of it. But a portion of the sky was blacked out.
It was above him!
The blacked-out portion of sky grew quickly larger.
“Bray, look out!” Hawkins shouted and shoved his friend clear before diving out of the way.
The ground shook from an impact. An inhuman roar ripped through the air—one part lion, one part crow. The creature had arrived.
33.
Hawkins jumped to his feet and spun to face the thing, but it was already moving toward him. His eyes had adjusted to the half-moon light and he saw just bits and pieces of the thing before it reached him. It hunched forward as it charged, but still stood at least eight feet tall. And the proportions were all wrong. The chest and shoulders looked far too vast for the tiny waist to support and one arm was larger than the other. In fact, he wasn’t sure if one of the arms was even an arm. No way this thing is human, he thought, and then it was upon him. He pulled the rifle’s trigger at the last moment, but the shot was wild and if it struck the creature, it showed no sign. It just attacked.
The blow was blunt, but concussive. It struck his sternum, which flexed with the strike and saved him from internal injuries, but it knocked the wind out of him and sent him sprawling into the grass. The rifle flew from his grasp, falling into the darkness somewhere out of reach.
Clutching grass in his hands, Hawkins fought to push himself up. The thing had proven itself to be the far more aggressive predator and would no doubt finish him off quickly. When his vision tunneled from lack of air, he thought his time on Earth had come to an end.
But the creature didn’t attack.
Why not? he wondered between gasps.
“Hawkins!” Bray shouted. “I have her!”
Hawkins’s vision cleared just in time for him to see Bray walking backward toward the defunct laboratory. He held Joliet under her arms and dragged her as quickly as he could. But not fast enough to escape the creature. Even at a sprint, Bray wouldn’t have stood a chance.
The thing proved that by taking two quick steps in Bray’s direction and then leaping clear over the man. Bray shouted and spun around, but the creature batted him to the side. He tumbled and rolled over the grass before disappearing from view.
For a moment, Hawkins couldn’t figure out where his friend had gone. Then he heard a splash.
Bray is in the river!
Hawkins took a long breath, steadied himself, and stood. His head spun for a moment, but quickly cleared with a spike of adrenaline. The creature was heading for Joliet’s still form, lying in the grass.
Hawkins unclipped his knife.
Be aggressive, he told himself, but knew it wouldn’t make a difference. The most aggressive wasp in the world could never kill a human being. The best it could hope for was to deliver a painful sting. Hawkins charged, knife raised, hoping he could sting the creature. Even people run from a wasp’s sting, he told himself.
The thing scooped Joliet from the ground and flung her over its shoulder. It didn’t even glance in Hawkins’s direction.
Hawkins ran in silence, focusing on the creature’s chest. If he was lucky, the blade might find its heart. Believing surprise was his only chance, he stayed silent even as he dove forward and swung the blade.