hand.
Swain had a thought:
No, the bullet would pass through his wrist.
He bent down and picked up the policewoman's gun anyway. Protection.
And then, completely without warning, there came a sudden, crashing
Holly screamed and Swain snapped around instantly and saw--
--the Karanadon, crouched on one knee, slowly rising to its full height.
It must have been up on the First Floor! It must have leapt down!
Without even thinking, Swain levelled his new found dock at the beast and fired twice. Both shots missed by three yards. Hell, he'd never even fired a gun before.
Holly screamed through the gunfire, ran over to Swain.
The Karanadon stepped forward.
Swain raised the pistol again. Fired. Missed. Two yards off this time. Getting closer.
'Run!' Holly squealed. 'Run!'
'Not yet! I can hit it!' Swain called back, raising his voice above the beast's thunderous footsteps.
The Karanadon began to charge.
'Okay, run!' he yelled.
Swain and Holly dashed for the bookshelves. The Karanadon was gaining. They rounded a corner and entered a narrow aisle, bookshelves on either side. Running hard, Swain looked over his shoulder.
And then, suddenly, his feet hit something -- and he tripped -- and went sprawling head-first to the ground. He hit the floor hard and the glock went skittling off down the slick marble aisle.
The floor all around him was shaking violently and Swain rolled onto his back to see what had tripped him.
It was a carcass. The ripped and torn carcass of the Konda -- the grasshopper-like alien that the hoods had killed before, while Swain and the others had watched from the First Floor balcony.
The floor rumbled a final time.
Silence. Save for the beeping of Swain's wristband.
Swain looked up and saw Holly standing on the other side of the carcass.
And behind her -- right behind her -- towering above the little girl, its massive frame silhouetting her body with total blackness, stood the dark shape of the Karanadon.
Holly didn't move a muscle.
The Karanadon was so close she could feel its hot breath on her neck.
Holly didn't answer. She could feel her knees shaking. She knew that she wasn't going to move. Even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't. Beads of sweat began to appear on her forehead as she felt the Karanadon move slowly closer.
Its breath came in short, rapid spurts, as if it were breathing very, very quickly. As if it were--
Sniffing. It was sniffing her.
Slowly, the big beast's snout moved up her body.
Holly was terrified. She wanted to scream. She clenched her fists by her side and shut her eyes.
Suddenly, she felt a cold wetness touch her left ear. It was the Karanadon's nose, the tip of its dark, wrinkled snout. The nose was cold and wet, like a dog's.
She almost fainted.
Swain watched in horror as the Karanadon brushed the left side of his daughter's head.
It was taking its time. Moving slowly. Methodically. Intensifying their fear.
It had them.
Swain could hear the constant beeping of his wristband. How long to go? He didn't dare look -- didn't dare take his eyes off the Karanadon.
He shifted his weight -- and, oddly, felt a bulge in his pocket. It was the broken phone receiver. That wouldn't be much use here. Wait a second...
There was something else in his pocket...
Slowly, Swain reached into his pocket and pulled out Jim Wilson's Zippo lighter.
The Karanadon was sniffing Holly's ankles.
Holly just stood stock still, her eyes shut, her fists clenched.
Swain rolled the lighter over in his hand. If he could light something with it, the flames might momentarily distract the Karanadon.
But then, he recalled, the lighter hadn't worked in the stairwell before.
Swain held the lighter up to the nearest bookshelf, up close to a dusty old hardcover.
The Zippo flipped open with a loud metallic
The Karanadon's head snapped up immediately and suddenly the beast was staring accusingly at Swain as if to say: 'And what do you think you're doing?'
Swain held the lighter closer to the dusty book but the Karanadon bounded quickly forward and in an instant Swain found himself slammed against the floor, face-down, the weight of an enormous black foot pressed hard against his back.
Holly screamed.
Swain was pushed down against the floor, his hands spread out in front of him, his face tilted sideways, one cheek flat against the cold marble floor. He struggled in vain against the weight of the Karanadon.
The beast roared loudly and Swain looked up to see that he was still holding the lighter in his left hand. On his left wrist, he saw his wristband, beeping insistently. In a distant corner of his mind, he wondered how long they had before it exploded.
The Karanadon saw the lighter.
And Swain watched in horror as an enormous black claw slowly descended upon -- and clasped around -- his entire left forearm. It gripped his arm tightly. Squeezing it. Cutting off the bloodflow. Swain saw his veins pop up everywhere. His arm was about to snap in two--
And then the big creature banged his wrist, hard against the floor.
Swain roared in agony as his wrist hit the marble floor. There was a loud clunking sound, followed by a sharp burning pain that shot right through his forearm.
With the impact, his hand holding the lighter reflexively opened wide and the Zippo dropped to the floor.
Swain never noticed it.
And he had instantly forgotten about the burning pain in his forearm.
Now he was staring. Staring at his left wrist in total disbelief.
And the force of the impact had unclasped it. Now it just rested loosely around Swain's wrist, still beeping incessantly.
Only now it was unclasped.
Now it was off.
Swain saw the countdown.
12:20
