Age of Monsters John Schneider (digital book reader TXT) 📖

Ariel had her gun out and already aimed, yet it looked as if she hesitated – perhaps she was seeing her pet – even as the claws came for her throat and belly.

It wasn't even like a predator taking down prey – the thing flung itself at her, claws in her face, the disemboweling sickle digging at her guts.

She started to scream, but then her throat was gone, and all that came out were choking gasps.  She fell over backwards with the thing still tearing at her with all four limbs and teeth.

It happened before any of them could react.

A second and forever too late, Terry pumped his shotgun and blew the creature off of Ariel's crumpled and twitching form.

Terry's voice was as ragged as if his own throat had been ripped.

“You BASTARDS!”

He continued firing – meat splattered off the dead creature's body with each blast, even as it spasmodically kicked and twitched.

In the radio room, the two other infected lizards had gained their feet and turned on them.

Jonah threw his weight against the door, pushing it shut, but the latch wouldn't catch – perhaps disabled.  Two heavy blows struck from the other side.

He also distinctly heard the air-blasts of two more injections, and the following caterwaul.

The door bumped open – Jonah shoved it back shut.

Naomi pushed herself up next to him, even as one of the scaly faces tried to force its way through the gap.  She placed her pistol against its muzzle and shot it twice.

Terry was bent over Ariel's gutted body, afraid to touch.

It didn't matter – she had likely been killed in the first few seconds.

“Terry,” Naomi said, straining against the door.  “We've got to go.”

The blows from the other side were growing more frenzied.

Terry stood and turned slowly.

His jaw was set.  Any tears had been put on hold.

“She was a bit of a loon,” he said.  “But who the hell else would be with me?”

Terry pushed Jonah and Naomi aside, setting his feet and putting his shoulder against the vibrating door.

He was a big guy – he shoved the door shut.

Jonah hadn't actually thought much of him – or his woman, really – their lives hadn't even been dramatically altered by the apocalypse – they were already living in a van down by the river.

But from his end, at least, Terry had never even considered living without her.  He apparently still didn't.

“You guys go,” Terry said.  He nodded to Jonah.  “You've got your own loon to take care of.  Good luck with that.”

Several heavy blows clanged against the metal door.

Naomi pulled at Jonah's arm.  “Let's go,” she said.

He turned to follow her down the spiraling stairs.

She was three steps ahead of him, and had just touched the metal floor below, when there was a loud, trilling screech.

Naomi instantly dropped and fired at something Jonah couldn't see.  He heard another squawk, followed by two more shots.  When he made it down beside her, there were three dead Ottos laying in the hall.

“Watch the corners,” she said, “they're going for your eyes.”

Behind them, the birdlike screech had dropped an octave, into a hooting bellow, as ever-heavier weight continued to pound against the radio-room's metal door.  They could hear Terry cussing as he held the line.

Jonah paused, looking back.  Were they really going to leave him behind – even if he chose it?

Naomi grabbed his shoulder, shaking her head.

They turned and ran down the corridor.

The Ottos were going for their eyes – one of them nearly caught Jonah on the third deck, leaping out of hiding almost directly into his face.  If it had got hold of him, it probably could have slashed his throat.  Instead, he used a trick that worked on yellow-jackets – just center their weight and smack them right out of the air.  He caught the little lizard dead center with an open-handed blow, knocking it to the floor.  Not wasting a bullet, he stomped it flat, feeling the thin-bones breaking like a bird's.

Naomi stomped it once for good measure.

Behind them, there was the sound of shotgun blasts.

Terry's cursing gave way to screams.

The creatures were out.

Above them, they could see daylight.

They could also hear the snarling beasts behind, and the echoing clatter of large, clawed feet on metal floor.

Naomi pushed open the hatch as they climbed out into the open air.

Jonah turned and slapped the hatch shut behind them.  With a grunt, he twisted the latch.

A second later, something struck the door from behind.

The latch twitched.

Jonah took his own rifle and wedged it between the door-jam and the latch.

He shrugged at Naomi.  “I guess you're going to have to do the shooting.  You're better than I am, anyway.”

More screeching sounded from over their heads, and they turned to see the Ottos lining the rooftops over the control tower – dozens of them, all blinking down.

The gaggle of lizards were poised to leap, ready to start flocking forward in a mob – but then, as a group, they paused.

Their oddly-birdlike heads cocked as if scenting the air.

Then the entire ship was shaken by massive impact.

The destroyer itself was picked up out of the water and the very air reverberated with a foghorn, gale-storm ROAR.

Jonah and Naomi grabbed the railing as the ship smashed back down into the water.  The Ottos scattered from the rooftops.

Clamped onto the front hull, Jonah saw massive jaws shaking the entire craft like a gargantuan crocodile latched onto a buffalo.

A giant rex.

THE rex, Jonah wondered?  The same from before?

Was it following them?

The beast reared up in the water, as if to clamber onboard, even as it began to tear the ship apart.

Naomi hiked her hips over