then cutting southeast through Wright Township on Route 437.
Late that afternoon, the convoy slowed for a break northwest of White Haven. Jon stopped his wagon along the berm and stared at creatures gathered in a field. Shepherd and Stonewall maneuvered their horses to his side.
There grazed a quartet of beasts each the size of a small elephant with big seal-like faces, soft fuzzy hides, and jagged backbones. They scooped dying grass into their round mouths and sifted through the bites, perhaps extracting nutrients or insects.
'It boggles the mind what has happened to our world,' Stonewall remarked. 'If a man were to pause and reflect on these events he would have to question the rhyme or reason.'
Shepherd said, 'Seems to me that whatever caused all this wasn’t lookin’ to just take the planet like Martians in those 50’s sci-fi flicks. No, someone was aimin’ to do a right bit more.'
Jon thought aloud, 'To erase our world.'
The oversized fuzzy seal-beasts hurriedly closed ranks. A flock of Earthly birds fluttered away from the barren trees and bushes at the far end of the field.
Shep recognized the nervous state of prey animals and urged, 'We need to get goin’.'
Too late.
A pack of three predators pushed through the tree line to the east and sent a wave of sheer terror through the ranks. At first, Jon saw only teeth: a massive circular array of teeth dominating the entire front of the creatures; jaws easily the size of a tractor-trailer grill on bodies bigger than a full-size van. Patches of brown fur sprouted between plates of dull-gray armor covering their bodies and they walked on four muscular legs. Jon saw two black eyes set just above the monstrous maw completing the image of some warped cartoon wolf from a nightmarish Little Red Riding Hood myth.
The hunters circled the prey huddled in the field. As the attackers closed, one of the herd lost its nerve and bolted from formation.
One of the jaw-wolf things pursued, closed to a few yards, and opened its massive teeth like spreading fingers on an unclenching fist, revealing a matching set of smaller-but equally sharp-teeth within.
Jon watched it happen-they all saw-but it took him several seconds to comprehend.
The smaller set shot from the hunter's mouth on a red tendon, clamped into the escaping seal-beast, and bit it in two. As the tendon retracted, it hauled a chunk of meat and gore into the predator's mouth and the larger teeth folded in to help chew. The monster stood over the kill, its attention fully focused on dinner.
Predators, yes, but predators straight from the depths of Hell.
Stonewall prodded, 'Mr. Brewer…?'
'Jesus Christ,' Jon regained his senses. 'Let’s get out of here before-'
The remaining two hungry jaw-wolves spotted the human contingent. They left behind the seal-beasts and approached slowly, splitting to flank as they closed.
Stonewall cried, 'To arms I say!'
Reverend Johnny-riding in the other wagon- retrieved a weapon from the cargo area. Most of those on horseback dismounted along the road with rifles ready, a few remained in their saddles, perhaps contemplating flight.
'Fire at will!' Jon ordered.
A sheet of bullets rained upon the predators. The jaw-wolves cringed but did not retreat as the shots ricocheted off their armor plating and massive teeth.
Then they attacked from either side.
Reverend Johnny-a World War II era flamethrower strapped to his back-intercepted the one on the southern flank.
'Son of man, give the people this message from the LORD: A sword is being sharpened and polished. It is being prepared for terrible slaughter; it will FLASH LIKE LIGHTNING!'
The creature stopped as the flames licked at its front. A rich chemical smell of burning fuel spewed across the impromptu battlefield.
Nothing halted the creature on the northern flank as it aimed for Tucker, who spurred his mount and whipped the reigns
The monster’s inner jaws extended, pinching together the rider and much of the horse. The jaws retracted to the wolf’s mouth where the outer layer of teeth folded over the ensnared man and what remained of his steed. Tucker-alive for a few more moments-cried out from behind the curtain of ivory as the satisfied hunter spirited away its prize.
Johnny’s flamethrower held the remaining jaw-wolf at bay. Woody Ross produced one of the ping-pong ball grenades taken from the platypus aliens. He activated it with a squeeze and rolled the device beneath the monster's belly.
The explosion ripped the creature from below where its armor provided no protection. Gore poured to the ground and it collapsed.
Jon wasted no time. 'Quick, saddle up. Hurry. Let's move!'
Horses spurred to action and whips sent the wagons rolling as fast as they could move to the south, counting one less in their number.
– Two robed disciples of The Order carried Trevor into a new chamber, this one smaller but no less vile than the lair of the torture-spider. They dropped him, naked and unconscious. Two tendrils slithered over, clasped his wrists, and dragged him against the wall.
'We will hold him here for a spell,' the Bishop said as he brought a companion to view the captive. 'Until modifications to the Purification Center are complete.'
The Bishop's companion was an older man but not elderly, dressed in black with a thin body. He and a flock of converts had battled Trevor Stone a few weeks before.
'That is the one,' the Missionary Man said. 'I nearly converted him some time ago.'
The Bishop answered, 'He will better serve us once the processing is complete.'
'Glory to Voggoth!'
'Yes, indeed. Nonetheless, this situation amplifies your failure during the initial phase of the invasion. Had you found your target on that first day, this process would not be necessary and our resources could be invested elsewhere.'
The Missionary Man ran one crooked hand across his neck where wounded tentacles hid. 'Your Excellency, I searched the location but found no trace of any humans, let alone those of Stone's bloodline or acquaintance. Is there any suggestion as to what forces were at work?'
The Bishop hovered over Trevor, studying the sleeping man like a researcher watching a lab rat for symptoms.
'The disappearances remain a mystery.'
'We now know the location of their sanctuary. Allow me to lead a force to overrun their position. No doubt the one we seek is among them.'
'No,' the Bishop pulled his emerald eyes from Trevor and glared at the Missionary Man. 'Our activities on the Asian continent have already drawn attention; we can not risk such overt action here.'
Again, the Bishop stared at Trevor. He said, 'We will continue his ordeal. The pain is already driving him mad. The point will come when his mind is open. Then we will ease his suffering with each concession, one after another, until he eagerly accepts the dominion of Voggoth and delivers his people to The Order.'
'Praise be to Voggoth, your Excellency. Allow me to suggest the immediate termination of the woman. She is dangerous. We suffered many losses in her capture.'
'Fear not, she is under control. Surprisingly simple, in fact. Once activated, the cache gland projected false memories implicating whomever she viewed as leader and then the implant amplified her emotions. One can appreciate the irony.'
'Irony, your Excellency?'
'Forgive me. Much like your ambition-do not think I have not taken note of it-a sense of what they call 'irony' remains with me since my glorious transformation. As distasteful as I find any remnants of that existence, I do see this 'irony' here: the woman only betrayed him when she finally accepted him as her leader, consciously or not.'
