Hollister was alive.
He strained to watch the activity in the street, trying to figure out what was happening. Instinct told him something was about to go down. He looked at Sally.
“Miss, I’m going to need your help,” he said.
She looked at him, her eyes going wide as if she could read his mind.
“I’m going to go out there and help the major,” he said. “You need to take my spot here and keep watch on the street out there. You’ll need to bar the door after I leave, and let us in when we come back.”
“I can’t do that,” Sally said, shaking her head.
“Yes, you can,” he said quietly. He tried to think of something that would make her believe she could do what he asked. “The major, he believed in you.”
Sally swallowed hard.
“But I thought he told you to stay here with us,” she said, the fear starting to creep into her voice.
“He did. But he’s in trouble. And if we’re going to have a chance, we need to help him. He’s counting on us. He’s counting on you. Can you do it?”
Sally looked down at the floor. Outside there was another gunshot, then another-then the Archaics in the street started running and jumping like a herd of frightened antelope.
“It’s now or never, Sally,” he said gently.
“All right, I can do it,” she said.
Chee went to the door and quickly lifted the beam, looking at the remaining women. “Sally is in charge,” he said. “If anyone gives her trouble, I will shoot them.”
He stepped through the door, waiting until he heard Sally lower the beam back in place.
Working the action on the big Henry rifle, he ran into the street.
Chapter Forty-five
Hollister didn’t die. He opened his eyes, looking up to see the Archaic above him stabbed through the chest by Shaniah and her knife. It fell to the roof beside him and he scrambled to his feet, ready to shoot. The creatures were everywhere. He looked behind him; three more were coming along the roof toward them. They hadn’t made it very far; the jail was still a good thirty yards or more beyond.
He fired at the Archaics to his rear, hitting the one in the middle. The other two darted away, the one on his right jumping off the roof of the walkway to the top of a building and disappearing from sight. The one on his left jumped back to the street and he fired at it again, hitting the shoulder and spinning it around, and it darted up onto the walkway underneath him and out of sight.
“This was a bad plan,” Shaniah said. She stood holding the knife in both hands, with three Archaics ten yards in front of her, blocking their pathway to the jail. “We’re trapped.”
Hollister wanted to argue with her but couldn’t, deciding she had a point. Maybe he had been mistaken.
Down in the street an Archaic looked at him and growled, its eyes blazing. It leapt in the air and he raised his pistol, tracking it, when he heard a shot and it spun in the air, collapsing on the ground, groaning in agony. The three Archaics confronting Shaniah scattered, moving so fast, he had no idea where they went. Two more still waited in the street below, looking confused as their comrade squirmed in pain on the dusty street. Another shot sounded and one of them disappeared in a cloud of ash and dust. Hollister recognized the bark of the Henry. Chee.
My God.
They had an open path ahead of them now, the roofline temporarily clear of Archaics.
“Go! Go!” Hollister shouted.
Shaniah didn’t wait. She took off running faster than Hollister thought he’d ever seen a human being run. Of course she wasn’t quite human.
“Chee! It’s us. We’re on the roof. Don’t shoot us!” he hollered, wanting to make sure the trigger-happy sergeant didn’t gun them down by accident. Though he knew there was very little the young man ever did by accident.
He took off after her, his boots clomping across the roof. He hoped they hadn’t skimped on the lumber, as he would hate to plunge through, after he had managed to elude these vicious critters thus far. The Henry fired again, and another Archaic who had jumped toward them from below was knocked out of the air, tumbling to the street. There was a second of silence as if they had pulled back and slowed somehow. Hollister could only surmise that Chee’s sudden appearance and the withering fire he was sending their way had bought them a few precious moments as the creatures sorted through the confusion.
“Move!” Hollister shouted at Shaniah, not knowing why exactly, except that his cavalry training was coming back to him and he was used to shouting orders in combat.
Hollister took a glance backward and discovered two Archaics closing on them. He fired and one of his Colts clicked on an empty chamber.
“Shit!” He holstered the gun and ran faster, hoping Chee would see the two behind him and take care of them.
Ten yards to go until they reached the jail.
Another Archaic jumped in front of them but Shaniah took it out with her knife, this time swinging and connecting at the neck as the creature crumpled to the ground. She ran right through it and Hollister followed. He probably would have been ill at the thought of it if he wasn’t likely to die soon anyway.
“Hurry!” Chee called to them from the street below. He was firing his pistol now, having emptied the long gun. “There’s more coming
… Oh My God!”
Shaniah and Hollister reached the roof over the sidewalk in front of the jail and leapt to the ground. Jonas landed hard, feeling the pain shoot from his ankles up to his knees as he spun, rolling on the ground and coming back to his feet.
Shaniah had landed cleanly without a problem and looked at Hollister, her eyes knitted and mouth flattened in a smirk. Hollister stamped his feet, shaking the pain out of his legs.
“Shut up,” he said, looking at her and trying to hide his bruised ego.
“Look!” Chee said, gesturing down the street toward the town’s intersection.
It was a couple of hours after midnight now, but the moon was almost straight overhead. About one hundred yards away from them were another twenty or more Archaics racing in their direction at a full-on gallop like a pack of rabid coyotes. All of them had obviously been townspeople a few days ago. Not any longer. They were coming to join the fight.
Then Jonas realized that was not the case at all. They were chasing something. His eyes shifted to a moving blur about twenty yards in front of the pack.
Billy.
“C hee! Reload,” he shouted. “Jesus Christ, kid. Run!” He slapped another speed loader into his empty Colt, spinning the chamber, snapping it in place, and twirling the gun back into his holster.
The few Archaics pursuing them along the rooftops had paused momentarily, first wary of Chee and his rifle and now watching the activity in the street below. Three of them turned back and ran toward the oncoming pack, their eyes no doubt set on Billy, angling to cut him off. Predators went after the easiest prey, and right now, Billy, whose little legs were churning up the dirt as he ran, was a much less threatening target than the three of them.
“Chee!” Hollister said, pointing at the three retreating Archaics. The sergeant raised the rifle and fired three times in rapid succession. Hollister couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone shoot more effortlessly. Each of the Archaics went down, flopping like fish on the rooftop, the pain of the silver bullets working through them. They wouldn’t be down for long, though.
“Chee, cover me,” Hollister said. He ran toward Billy, Shaniah’s voice sounding behind him.
“Wait! What are you doing?” she cried.
“Going after the kid!”
