“I can’t swear to it, but let’s say I’m ninety percent sure.”
“What are we waiting for, then?”
“Greg, what do you mean ‘What are we waiting for’?”
“Those people need our help.”
“Ben, there are twelve of us. There are hundreds of bad guys.”
“But we-”
“We can do nothing but watch and make sure they don’t attack us.” She stared at me. “It sounds uncaring, but what can we do? You’d need a couple of helicopter gunships to take out those: They’re a whole army.” She tossed her head back to where a clutch of rifles leaned against the barn wall. “We’ve got a few peashooters.”
I studied the group of survivors. They were all burdened by bundles of blankets, backpacks; most carried sacks that I guessed were stuffed with food. They were a desperate bunch. They knew they were being pursued, but they weren’t going to ditch their precious foodstuff just yet. Maybe they thought they could outrun the hornets. Only they didn’t know they were being driven into a narrow point of land that would be bound by a lake at one side and a fast-flowing river at the other. I panned to the right. A half mile behind were the hornets, moving in groups of around twenty. I couldn’t count them all, but I saw the murdering bastards numbered in their hundreds. The binoculars were powerful enough to show individual faces. The men all had thick tangled beards, with a thick tangle of hair. The women had tumbling manes of curls. Most wore rags. Some were naked. It was their eyes that really punched you in the gut. They were so goddam vicious. They blazed from those wild clocks of hair like fucking laser beams. And each pair of eyes had locked onto the men, women and children in front who were trying to outrun them.
Zak shielded his eyes with the cowboy hat as we watched. “We need to send a couple of people down to keep an eye on them.”
“I’ll go,” I said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?” Michaela said.
Tony shook his head. “We get the feeling you might do something heroic.” He nodded down at the hornets swarming along the valley. “The kind of heroic that will get all of us killed.”
Zak said, “Michaela, Tony, take the bikes down the track across there. That’ll bring you close enough, but you’ll still be uphill from them… Keep behind that line of trees. They won’t see you there.”
“What about the sound of the bikes?”
“Don’t start the motors,” I said. “Freewheel down. Only fire them up if you’re seen.”
Zak gave a grim smile. “He’s starting to think like one of us.”
Ben looked uneasy. “But if they see you we’ll all have to run for it, won’t we?”
“We will,” Zak agreed. “But we’ll have a head start and we’ll be on bikes. They’ll be on foot.”
Michaela began to walk back to the bikes. “Zak, you best be ready to move out fast just in case. OK?”
He nodded. “Don’t worry, we’ll be ready.”
Within moments, Michaela and Tony were coasting down the hill, using gravity alone, not the big Harley motors, to power their descent. Even from just a few yards away I could hear nothing but the whisper of tires on soft dirt that had accumulated on the track. Seconds later I heard nothing at all as I watched them leave.
Zak immediately got the others to gather up their belongings just in case we had to quit this place like greased lightning. That left me at the fence watching through the binoculars. The bunch of survivors were still well ahead of the hornets. They looked confident they were going to make it. Most had rifles ready in case they were attacked, but they still weren’t going to ditch their belongings so they could move faster. Those pitiful supplies were all that kept them from starvation.
I checked the groups of hornets, who didn’t move in a great hurry either. But then, the cunning monsters knew that the people just ahead would run out of dry ground within the next ten minutes. At the foot of the hill Michaela and Tony had coasted down to the line of trees that hid them from the bad guys. OK. So far, so good.
But wait… all those hornets in the valley moving in plain view across the meadows were eye-catching. You couldn’t miss seeing them for sure. I felt a twitch, just a flicker of a twitch in my stomach. That instinct was reaching out of the depths of my bones. It wasn’t quite the Twitch I’d experienced before. But it was some-thing like.
I scanned the line of trees farther to the right that followed the line of the track. I damn well knew it… I damn well knew it. The hornets were still a good quarter of a mile away from Michaela and Tony, now at a standstill on their bikes as they watched the bad guys pass by farther down the valley, but sure as hell and high water there were a group of around twenty of the monsters moving along the same track. But that shouldn’t be too much to worry about, should it? They were a good distance away. And they weren’t walking fast.
No. There had to be something else.
Again I used the binoculars to sweep the line of trees. This time I made the pan much slower. Seeing each bush in turn. There had to be something else that-whoa. Got it.
Maybe a hundred yards from Michaela and Tony, just around a curve in the track, I saw a group of five, maybe six people huddled against a tree. They weren’t hornets, I was positive of that. They seemed to be in a tight clump, with one guy carrying a shotgun moving backward and forward across the track. Even from this distance I could tell he was nervous as hell. He knew the hornets were following them. What he didn’t know was how far away the monsters were. I swept the binoculars back to the knot of people. A young woman sat on the ground. Her legs were somehow awkward under her, as if she wanted to stand only her legs were too weak. Others clustered ’round, trying to help. A girl of around thirteen wrapped an object in a large towel or piece of sheet.
She handled the object gingerly, like it was incredibly fragile. All I could tell was that it was red. Not at all big.
Hell… a goddam baby. That’s what it was. A newborn baby! The woman must have just given birth. I stared so fiercely through those lenses it felt as if my eyes would dry out. But I saw clearly enough now. The girl was wrapping a newborn baby still smeared with blood in a towel. The other people were trying to help the mother to her feet. Christ, she gave birth running from those monsters, now she had to get up and run again before they caught her and tore her face off.
Once more I scanned the line of track. I saw another figure. This one had gray hair. He was-he was… damn. I forced my eyes to focus. That’s it. An old man. He was standing guard between the group with the newborn baby and the hornets bearing down on them.
I watched a full five minutes as the old guy waited. A brave old guy at that. There must have been twenty bad guys and they were young and homicidally crazy. At least he appeared to carry a gun of some sort. It was too short and stubby for a rifle. A submachine gun, maybe. The guy would need formidable firepower against an enemy like that.
It ended faster than I expected. The hornets came ’round the corner of the track. Not running, but moving quickly. They saw the old guy, made straight for him. Then this stupid thing happened. It was like watching an old comedy movie… only there was nothing funny about it… not one fucking bit funny… but it was fucking stupid. He aimed the submachine gun. I waited for the crackle of exploding cartridges and the jet of smoke from the muzzle.
Nothing. Fucking nothing.
The old guy looked at the gun. He jerked at the bolt, then the trigger. I saw him shake his gray head in dis- belief.
And then…
Over.
That was it. Finished.
One of the hornets pushed him, sending him dropping down onto his behind. He turned ’round on the ground, trying to stand. Only his old bones didn’t work as fast as they used to.
Then the hornets were on him. I thought they’d pounce like mad dogs, but they just flowed ’round the old guy as he sat there on his backside in the dirt looking up at them as they walked by, ignoring him.
Only the last one in the pack didn’t. He carried a heavy steel bar that must have been the length of his arm. He raised it above his head in a way that seemed almost casual. The old guy sat there in the dirt. He supported his top half with one hand against the track while with the other he tried to block the blow.
The hornet swung the bar easily, missing the guy’s arm. The end of the iron bar whipped down, hitting into the old guy’s skull square in the top. The old boy looked as if he’d suddenly gotten way too tired. Slowly he lowered
