of self. She was no longer a she either, Felix knew. She was just a thirst-thing and he could by God
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Cat,” ordered Jack calmly, stepping in front of her and raising his crossbow, “shut that damned thing off.”
“Yes, bwana,” replied Cat serenely and in a moment all was quiet.
Except for the sound of the creature dragging itself on grave-rotted feet toward Jack.
And then the deep THONG of the crossbow and the awful punching crunch as the massive arrow split the woman’s chest cavity and cracked out her back.
The impact drove her backward several feet, arms flung outstretched, but somehow she remained upright.
Felix stared in horror. My God! The damn thing splitting her is as big as she is and it didn’t even knock her down!
And for just an instant some deep adult in him was outraged, offended at such defiance. And he saw himself drawing and firing and plunging silver bullets into her throat — But he couldn’t move. He was gone. He couldn’t handle this.
He just stood and stared and trembled as the woman thirst-thing reacted to the agony of impalement with maniacal frenzy, her eyes bugging, her mouth barking shrieks and howls, her vile matted hair whipping thin cuts into her moldering cheeks. Something oozed thickly from the wound. But even in the uncertain light Felix could tell it wasn’t blood. The only blood came from the red flecks that spat forth from the howling, crumpled mouth.
“Hit it, Carl,” ordered Jack into his radio headset.
The cable attached to the arrow went instantly taut. The woman, still howling and warping in pain, fell forward onto the dusty cement as the cable began to drag her writhing toward the exit. She didn’t want to go. She fought the shaft of the huge arrow, she scratched sparks on the concrete floor. She howled and spat some more. But she went.
“Adam,” chided Crow gently, “you want to get the door now?”
The young priest unfroze himself from the sight, nodded, and all but tripped over himself in his hurry to obey.
She went to something beyond hideous when the sunlight struck her. Felix had never heard anything like those screams, had never seen anything like that blurred, vibrating frenzy.
And that fire, those bursting flames that erupted from deep inside her skin as if they were being blown outward by some fierce vindicatory pressure. The flames didn’t look real. They looked like dozens of tiny acetylene torches rocketing out of her.
The cable was relentless as it dragged her through the double doors of the building, across the sidewalk, and into the street. Felix hadn’t realized he was following her until he saw the others closing in to stare.
They were all there. The cops. The local powers. That mayor, Tammy Something, was there. They had left their police barricades and their whispering cliques and everything else and rushed forward to stare.
The screams abruptly ceased, so suddenly it made every-one jump. And then the flame itself began to shrink, as if curling its fuel into a little circle. The thing in the flame was no longer recognizable as anything but a roaring blue-and-white fire. There came a loud hissing sound, as though gas was escaping.
Then sparks. Then a loud pop.
Then the flame was gone. Everything was gone save for a foot-wide circle of ashes.
And still nobody moved. They just stared.
“Supernatural,” said Jack Crow gently from just behind Felix.
Felix turned and looked at him.
Crow was smiling grimly. “Supernatural,” he said again in the same gentle tone. “Supernatural. Not of this earth.” He stepped over to the circle of ashes and looked down. “Evil. Satanic.” He looked at Felix, then kicked the ashes with his boot. “Damned, Felix. Big Time Evil.” He kicked at the ashes again. They were extremely fine and they scattered easily in the soft breeze. Crow lit a cigarette and stared some more at Felix before speaking in that same easy tone:
“But we can kill ’em, Felix. We
“Right, bwana!”
“Yes,
“Hell, yes!” sang out from behind Felix, from Cat, Adam, and Carl Joplin respectively.
Felix turned around to see them all watching him just as: “Go get ’em!” sounded out from an unknown source.
It was the redhead Felix had noticed earlier arguing with the other policemen, the one wearing a different type of uniform. He stood there holding his fist in the air like a cheerleader.
Team Crow stared blankly at him. They were used to being alone. The last thing in the world they expected was local support. The redhead took their stares as hostility — or worse, scorn. His face turned as red as his hair.
Jack saved him. “Who the hell are you?”
The redhead pulled himself up straight. “Deputy Kirk Thompson, sir.”
Crow smiled. The kid — he couldn’t have been over twenty-five — had managed to give the impression he had saluted without actually doing it.
“Who called the sheriff’s department?” asked Crow.
The deputy seemed confused. “No one had to, sir. This courthouse is our headquarters. Nobody called the sheriff,” he added meaningfully, looking around at the locals who were watching. “And I think he’s going to want to know why when he comes back.”
Jack grinned. “Could be. Hang around, deputy. We’ll talk later.”
“Yes, sir. Is there anything I can do now?”
Jack frowned. Where was this kid yesterday so he would at least have had a chance to train him? Or get him some chain mail anyway. No. He might need him after all, shorthanded as they were. But stupid, criminal, to risk him now.
He shook his head. “Not right now,” he told the deputy. “Though I’d appreciate it if you’d stick close to Carl there.” And he gestured toward Joplin, who still stood beside his winch.
“Yeah, come over here, deputy,” said Joplin with a knowing look to Crow. “We’ll talk a bit.”
Crow started back to his team but stopped. The spectators, the policemen, and the mayor’s people were still standing there watching. Some still hadn’t taken their eyes off the pile of ashes at Jack’s feet. Some looked a little stunned. The mayor’s party looked scared.
Scared we’ll lose or scared we’ll win? he wondered to himself.
But he had no time for them.
“Something I can do for you?” he asked harshly.
No one replied or even met his eyes. Instead they faded back to the sidewalk across the street under the courthouse. The policemen went back to their barricades, looking uncertain and uneasy.
Crow felt the urge to go talk to those cops, to find out what the mayor had told them, to get them on his side, to.
But his team was waiting. This was no time to take a time out and have them lose their edge. He picked up another arrow for the crossbow and joined Cat, Adam, and Felix, who stood by the curb in front of the target.
“Okay, people,” he said, kneeling down to arm his weapon, “huddle up.”
And so he set about firing them up to go in again. He made his voice strong and confident and, as always, sounding that way to others made it seem that way to himself. He made a change in the Plan. They were originally supposed to wait inside while Adam fetched out another cable and loaded crossbow, but Felix had led them all outside, staring at the dying monster. Crow made a joke about Felix changing the schedule, but while the others smiled, Felix didn’t even seem to get it.
Felix didn’t seem to be getting much of anything, come to think of it. And while Crow sounded strong and
