Resistance: The Gathering Storm

worked the handle. Cold water gushed out of the spout and the Grims drank their fill. They could have eaten snow of course—Lord knows there was plenty of it—but the Chimera did lots of things he didn’t understand.

Meanwhile, as the Grims took turns at the pump, Hale turned his attention to their escorts, and was disturbed by what he saw. Because rather than regular Hybrids, a trio of Steelheads had been sent to herd the Grims along. They were larger than the Chimera Hale had killed the day before, more powerful, and armed with Augers. Weapons capable of firing through concrete walls, never mind wooden ones.

So all Hale could do was stay as quiet as possible, and hope the Grims would leave soon.

The first hint of trouble came when one of the Steel-heads raised his Auger and aimed it at the ranch house. But rather than fire at a target, the Chimera swung his weapon from left to right, as if scanning for something.

Damn.

Sensors built into each Auger could pick up the least bit of heat, even through solid walls. There was no way to know why the Chimera had chosen to scan the house— boredom, perhaps, or an abundance of caution. But whatever the reason, Hale felt adrenaline trickle into his bloodstream as the Auger swung around to point directly at him.

“Get ready,” he said grimly, as he backed away from the peephole. “They’re onto us. They could shoot through the walls, but I’m hoping they’ll come inside, so I can drop a grenade into their laps. So stay back… The key is to keep the Grims off the platform.

“Mark, you defend the walkway… Tina, you take the top of the ladder. I’ll work the gaps. And remember what the Chimera did to your parents. Shoot to kill. Understand?”

It was too dark to see their expressions, nor was there time for a reply as two Steelheads stormed into the barn and opened fire. Bolts of lethal radiation hit the wood flooring, accelerated through it, and went on to punch holes in the roof.

Having readied a hand grenade, Hale pulled the pin and tossed the explosive over the side. There was a flash of light as the grenade went off, followed by a resonant boom and at least one scream as razor-sharp shrapnel flew in every direction. A piece of metal hit the floor near Hale’s right boot, tore a hole in it, and continued on to bury itself in a rafter.

He felt certain that at least one of the Steelheads was down—but what about the others? It was risky to peer over the side, but he did so anyway, just as a Grim entered the barn holding a Chimeran battle lantern high.

Thanks to the sudden spill of light Hale could see that two Steelheads were down, but there was no time to celebrate as more Auger projectiles stuttered through the walls. Some of the bolts missed Hale by a matter of inches as he threw himself backward.

Mark and Tina were flat on the platform, but they didn’t seem to have been injured.

A follow-up shot by the remaining Steelhead outside might have been successful at that point, but more than a dozen Grims had entered the barn by then, and the Hybrid had no way to know who it was shooting at. So the incoming fire stopped.

The battle inside the barn was just getting started at that point however, as three Grims succeeded in scaling the mountain of hay bales, and began to cross the walkway that led directly to the loft. Consistent with Hale’s orders Mark was there to meet them, and as he fired short bursts from his Reaper, the first Grim staggered and crashed into the rail. It shattered, allowing the body to fall to the floor below, where more of the shambling creatures were looking for a way up.

Meanwhile, twenty feet away, there was a muted boom as a Grim made it to the top of the wooden ladder and Tina fired her shotgun. Though not as powerful as a Rossmore, the smaller-gauge .410 was deadly at close range and blew the top of the Grim’s head off. A bloody mist rained down on the creatures below as battle lanterns threw grotesque shadows onto the west wall, and the air was filled with a cacophony of inarticulate growls.

Hale was pleased to note that the youngsters were holding their own, so far at least, but then another problem presented itself. Even though they weren’t very bright, the Grims were active, and those not already on the walkway or the ladder came swarming up the walls! As with most barns, the studs and crossbeams were fully exposed on the inside, and that was all the purchase the Grims needed.

So Hale shouted, “Grenade!” and dropped another bomb onto the floor below. The explosion knocked most of the creatures loose from their handholds, then it was time to go to work with the Rossmore. The shotgun made regular boom, clack, boom sounds as double-ought buck tore into the Grims still climbing the east wall and dumped what remained of their bodies into the charnel house below.

That was when Hale heard a scream, and turned to discover that, having been unable to reload her shotgun quickly enough, Tina was in trouble. Having successfully gained the platform, one of the horrors had wrapped its scabrous arms around the girl, and lifted her off the floor. Hale couldn’t fire without hitting Tina, so he lurched forward, knowing he wouldn’t arrive in time.

The Grim opened its jaws wide.

That was when Tina surprised both the Grim and Hale as she pulled the Browning Hi-Power 9mm semi-auto pistol out of its shoulder holster and pressed the muzzle against the monster’s lumpy skull. The Browning jumped in her hand, and a long rope of bloody goo shot out from the other side of the Grim’s head and splashed the floor beyond.

Tina landed on her feet as the Chimera released her, and had the presence of mind to shoot a second Grim in the stomach. But it wasn’t enough, as even more of the blood-crazed horrors flooded onto the platform.

Hale was at Tina’s side by then, blasting the ferocious Grims to bloody bits. Empty shotgun shells arced through the air, bounced off the floor, and rolled off the platform. There was no time in which to think or feel. All Hale could do was fire, reload, and fire again, in a desperate attempt to stem the grotesque tide.

Then, as if by magic, it was over. The last of the creatures was dispatched, and the only sounds that could be heard were a liquid gurgling noise as a badly wounded Grim choked on its own blood, and the repetitive snick, snick, snick as Hale fed shells into the shotgun.

“We did it!” Mark proclaimed jubilantly, as he slid a fresh magazine into the Reaper. “We killed them all!”

“Don’t count on it,” Hale replied darkly. “There were three Steelheads, and as far as we know, one of them is still on the loose. Grab your packs… We’re getting out of here.”

Then as if to confirm Hale’s assessment, an air-fuel grenade came flying into the barn, landed ten feet away from the haystack, and went off with a loud whump! Hale and the two youngsters were outside the immediate blast zone, but the explosion set fire to the hay, and it went up quickly. Air-fuel grenades had been invented by humans, but just as humans made effective use of Chimeran weapons, the reverse was true as well. Hale theorized that the surviving Steelhead was planning to drive the humans out of the barn and silhouette them against the flames.

“Come on,” Hale said, having shouldered his pack. “Follow me.” Mark and Tina obeyed as Hale half slid down the ladder to the floor below. The fire was spreading, and the heat was intense.

Auger rounds began to probe the inside of the barn.

“Over there!” Hale shouted, as he pointed to the east wall. Having stopped by his father’s workshop long enough to snatch a sledgehammer off its hooks, Hale hurried over to where Mark and Tina were waiting. There was a loud bang as the first blow made contact with the wall. The key was to land each blow squarely between neighboring studs, and the weight of the pack, snowshoes, and Fareye made that difficult, but after three solid hits a section of siding gave way. That was progress, but not enough, as Hale put the sledgehammer down in order to kick at the loose boards.

“Mark!” Tina shouted. “Behind you!”

Hale turned and saw that one of the Grims was on fire. Whether it had been wounded previously, or was simply lurking in a corner at the moment when the air-fuel mixture detonated, didn’t really matter. What mattered was that the fiery apparition was just six feet away, and staggering forward with arms spread wide.

Mark shot the Grim repeatedly, but the monstrosity kept on coming. Hale was about to fire on it when the Steelhead who was lurking outside unknowingly put an Auger projectile into the Grim. That knocked the monster off its feet, and the fire crackled noisily as all six of its eyeballs began to boil. Its heels drummed against the floor, then stopped abruptly.

The Sentinel turned his attention back to the wall.