The little monster ran for its parent, and if she’d expected a warm reunion, boy was she fucking wrong.
The baby leaped and grabbed hold of Mama’s kicking foot. It clung to it and began to chew. Until Mama stomped down.
Blood and gore spattered. The little monster didn’t live to a ripe old mutant age.
Leaving them now with a still super angry mutant rat that turned its baleful gaze on them.
“Shoot it,” Peter yelled, brandishing his fancy candle at it.
“With what?”
“What do you mean with what? Don’t you have a gun?” He cast her a quick glance.
“Nope. I don’t like them.”
“Isn’t part of your job description bodyguard?”
“I’m more of a hands-on defender.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Do you have one?” was her sarcastic reply as they both backed away from the monster that had dropped to all four paws.
“Believe when I say I am now regretting not taking the time to find one.”
“In the book, didn’t the hero dude give it cheese or something?” She grabbed hold of her bag of cheese puffs inside her satchel and waved it. “Here mousy, mousy.” She tossed it. “Have some cheese.”
For a second the monster eyed it. Then her. Then the cheese puffs again before roaring as it stomped the bag flat.
“Dammit, I was looking forward to those.”
“Worry more about the fact it’s not happy,” he said.
“Ya think?”
“Got a plan?”
“Don’t die.”
Their grace period was over. The monster was done playing and charged. Peter did the smart human thing and ran. She stood her ground and feinted. She narrowly missed having it take off her head. She ducked and rolled.
Peter yelled, “Hey, ugly fucker, over here.”
He’d not gone far. More like flanked the beast. He waved his arms, and she wondered what the hell he was doing other than the obvious—getting himself killed.
“I’ve got this,” she growled, even as she pulled a Matrix, bending over backwards as its prehensile rat-like tail came whipping. The dripping barbs at the end probably wouldn’t feel good.
Thunk.
A rock hit the monster in the face. Peter got his death wish. The mutant rodent charged him. And Peter stupidly held his ground.
“You idiot.” Then louder, “Here, mousy, mousy. Come to say hello.”
But the monster didn’t relent, and she fully expected to see Peter gored. Nice knowing you. Sad to see you go.
What a waste of—
For a human, Peter moved faster than expected. One minute he stood there in the path of a gouging horn. The next, he lunged forward and sprang. The man put all kinds of skill into his leap, vaulting nicely in the air, flipping. It was then she realized he still held his can of burning gel. As he rotated over the monster, he spilled it.
Mutant mouse erupted into a torch of living fire.
It squealed and smelled of barbecued meat. The rancid kind that no amount of cooking or spices could fix. It bolted on four legs, aiming for the far side of their dune-covered rocky outcrop. It dove for the sand and began to burrow. The frantic motion extinguished most of the flames. Too late to do it any good. The body stopped twitching.
The night turned still once more. Safe, and her blood was still pumping.
With a smile, she turned to Peter. “So, ready for sex now?”
Chapter Twelve
The crazy thing was that for a second, Peter kind of wanted to say fuck, what just happened, and let’s have sex.
His blood ran hot, and his lust even hotter. But…the creature from Hell had left behind a putrid stench. He did his best not to gag in front of Nora. His stomach advised him he might lose that fight.
Sex? Fuck that. He wanted air not stinking of a dead mutant rat. “I don’t think now is the right time.”
Nora glanced at the body. Its ass end was uncovered, which resulted in ever more noxious gas suddenly billowing.
He moved a few paces downwind from it. She slowly followed.
“Do you not have a sense of smell?” he had to ask.
“I smell incredibly well.”
“And don’t want to puke?” He wanted to spit and snort the smell out of his lungs and nose.
She shrugged. “Not much bothers me. So you’re sure about the sex thing?” She actually waggled her brows and offered a coy smile.
The dead thing audibly farted. Peter was pretty sure he saw green gas and took another step backwards, then two more for good measure.
“You’re going in the wrong direction,” she said, heading back toward the source of the noxious fumes.
“I’d say you’ve got that backwards. Why are you getting closer to it?”
“Because it was obviously going somewhere.”
“It was burying itself in the ground.”
“Not just any part of the ground. It wanted here.” She pointed to the section of the dune that had dimpled at the monster’s effort. “I wonder if its lair is nearby.” She moved close enough to grab a foot and yank.
The body shifted slightly and then dropped suddenly as the spot it was partially buried in caved. The body dangled in her grip. She let it go and teetered on the edge of the newly formed hole.
“Back away!” he yelled.
“I think I see something.” She leaned forward.
The ground literally cracked. Fissures appeared, and the sand shifted, running into the hole like water. Widening its edge. But did Nora step away?
“See you below,” she shouted before the ground disappeared and she dropped into the dark maw.
“Nora!” Peter lunged forward even as he knew he couldn’t catch her in time. The jagged hole puffed a cloud of dust that blew outward and hid everything in a dirt mist.
Unable to see, he froze. He wouldn’t do Nora much good if he fell or got buried too. He mentally ran through his pack of items. Not the most comprehensive thing, given he had to work with what he could buy quickly. But the one thing he did have that didn’t take much room? Fishing line that could handle up to three hundred pounds. Enough for him and some leeway to carry something. As he palmed the line, he tried calling out. “Nora? Say something if you can so I know you’re alive.”
Please don’t let her be dead. He’d feel all kinds of bad if she was.
The night remained silent except for the occasional ping of a rock falling. It sounded close. With the dust settled he could once more see the oddly jagged lip of the hole. He noticed no cracking in his section or for a few more feet. He sank to his knees and then his belly, easing forward, pausing to make sure the ground held him.
“Nora.”
This time he heard her. “Are you worried about me, Montgomery?” Her tone was light and mocking.
“I wouldn’t dare. I take it you’re not in imminent danger.”
“Not even close. I found something. Our next clue, I think. Come down and see.”
“How about you describe it to me as I fashion a harness to pull you up,” was his reply as he rolled to this back that he might work the fishing line into something he could use.
“It’s a big room. I think it used to have a lot of windows. That’s what broke.”