The Extinct

CHAPTER

62





Eric scavenged the items in the attic once more and didn’t find much that was useful. Jalani lay on her side and watched him, her slim figure a perfect outline of the feminine shape. Eric was reminded again of just how exotically beautiful she was. It was amazing to him that she was a hunter for a living. When he thought of a hunter, he thought of Thomas, or the tough-as-leather fisherman off the coast of Mexico. Not a small, frail young woman that could’ve just as easily been on a runway as in the plains of India.

“Maybe there is food in the basement?” she said.



Eric froze. “These houses have basements?”



“Yes.”



He glanced around; everything was made of wood. “Are the stairs leading down to the basement made of wood?”



“I do not know.”



Eric ran to the window and looked down. The sun was still high and they had hours of light left. The hyenas were both under the shade of the tree, watching a flock of birds in the sky.

“You have to climb out there and draw their attention,” he said.



“What?”



“Just yell and throw stuff at ‘em.”



“Why?”



“I’m going to the basement.”



“Are you crazy?”



“I’m not letting us die in this dirty little room, Jalani.” He put his arm around her and pressed his lips to hers. “Please,” he said.

Jalani climbed out the window and Eric handed her armfuls of things to throw. He leaned out the window and kissed her again and as he turned away she grabbed him.

“Be careful,” she said.

“I will. Just keep them off me a few minutes.”

Jalani began yelling and the hyenas growled and approached. They stood watching, mouths agape with yellow, jagged teeth. Jalani took a brush and threw it, missing. One hyena walked to the brush and sniffed it, turning back to Jalani.

She took a paperback novel and hit him in the head. The animal let out a ferocious roar that drew another hyena out of the house.

Eric watched from the window and as soon as all three were in front of the house he ran back and grabbed the container of gas and as many matchbooks as he could find. He opened the latch leading to the bedroom and climbed down.

Claw marks had scraped most of the glossy finish off the floors and the bed was destroyed, lying in pieces around the room and in the hallway. The walls had large holes the animals had torn out of fury.

He walked carefully, each creak in the floor sending a shot of adrenaline through his body. The sounds of the animals outside echoed through the house. He made his way into the hall and past a bathroom, stopping and debating whether to get a drink of water, but deciding against it and moving on.

The first floor kitchen had beige floor tiling and white walls. There was a calendar up on the fridge and it had some writing on it. On the far side of the room was a door. He walked to it, ducking below a window over the sink, and opened it. There were wooden stairs leading down to a basement.

Eric softly closed the door behind him. It was dark but there was some light coming through a ground level window. He opened the plastic container of gasoline and began pouring it over the steps, one at a time as he made his way down. He coated every step twice until it was dripping with gasoline and poured the last of it on the beams that supported the stairs.

The basement was just as cluttered as the attic but had larger items. There was an old lawnmower, tools, iron shelves filled with electrical replacement parts and . . . and a rifle hanging up over a workbench. He ran to it and checked the chamber. It was empty and he searched the shelves until he found a box of ammunition. The rifle was just a .22 caliber, hardly enough to pierce the flesh of those things but enough to get their attention.

Eric ran up the steps and into the kitchen. He looked out the window over the sink and saw the hyenas worked up to a frenzy, the debris Jalani had thrown dotting the ground around them. He smashed the butt of his rifle through the glass and the animals stopped their display and turned toward the sound. Eric took aim and fired a shot into the chest of the largest one, causing him to roar with anger. The other two sprinted for the house and Eric ran in front of the basement door.

The two animals ran through the living room and stood in the hallway, watching Eric. The hyena he’d shot came in and spotted him, its mouth opening and revealing steak knife-sized fangs. It darted for him.

Eric got off two shots, one missing and one hitting its mark in the snout. The hyena roared and fell into a wall, causing a large hole as the other two hopped over him.

Eric ran into the basement and shut the door. He jumped down the stairs and sprinted to the back of the large space, behind a metal shelf packed with tools. The door burst open; raining splinters on the floor below. The three hyenas leapt down the stairs. Their anger had caused them to go into a fury and they would nip at each other and bare their teeth. They stood sniffing the air and then began searching the basement.

Two began rummaging through a stack of cardboard boxes but the large one stood in the center of the room, looking from one item to the next. It held its head up, the muscles in its neck straining, and inhaled deeply through its nostrils. It walked to the side of the room Eric was on.

The hyena carefully scanned the space in front of it. It searched from top to bottom and took a few paces back. A chill went up Eric’s back as its eyes scanned over where he was, and kept going. The hyena smelled the air again and turned away.

Suddenly it spun and dashed for the shelf. Its head thrust in between two shelves and into Eric’s ribs, scraping the flesh as its teeth clamped down and tore through his shirt. The other two hyenas pounced and began tearing at the shelf, trying to bite through the metal.

Eric saw that the shelf was attached to the wall by two metal bars bolted to each side. He kicked at one and it bent. He kicked again and it broke away, the bolt clinking as it hit the gray cement of the basement floor. He broke the other one and began to push.

The hyenas had almost forced their way through now, one of their heads snapping at Eric’s leg. Eric put his legs up against the shelf and pushed. The shelf tipped and fell on two of the animals with a thunderous crash.

Eric ran for the stairs as the hyenas shook off the pain and started for him. The large one leapt at him with its jaws wide and he ducked, causing it to hit the wall snout first and land hard on the floor.

Eric climbed the steps and took out a matchbook. He struck one, and it didn’t light.

The hyena was climbing to its feet.

Eric struck again and again and finally it lit. He threw it on the stairs—still wet with gasoline—and they burst in a high flame. The fire was spreading quickly and Eric had to bolt for the kitchen as the heat burned his feet and caught his clothes on fire.

The hyena ran at him just as the fire began and flames caught its face, singeing its sensitive eyes and snout. The hyena howled and jumped backward, blinded by the fire. The other two ran over, staying clear of the heat. One looked up and saw Eric running out the door. It leapt at him in an act of rage and desperation, crashing into the center of the stairs. It’d soaked up the gasoline in its fur and the fire spread over its soft belly and eventually its face, causing it to fall from the stairs and dart around the room, crashing into everything in its path from pain.

Eric slammed the door behind him and stood against it, out of breath, his legs starting to sting from the flames. He looked down to his ribs and saw blood. Taking off his shirt, he wrapped it around the wound tightly and walked to the bedroom upstairs.