Blood Lust: A Supernatural Horror (32 page)

I pulled the pin on the stun grenade. The
click as I released the handle
startled the creature.
It must have
guessed
the grenade was
a weapon
and
opened its
muzzle
wide to scream. B
efore it could react, I shoved the grenade into its mouth and down its gullet.
It released its
grip
on me
.
I fell and
tumbled head over heels
down the
mountain of
bags
of flour
. The juvenile shook it
s
head vigorously
in a futile attempt
to dislodge the grenade
but it had caught
in its throat
. I rolled onto my
face
and covered my head with my arms.

The M84 stun grenade was not a fragmentary device like a hand grenade
,
not designed to explode
with shrapnel,
but to burn fiercely
and brightly after producing a loud initial bang. The grenade ignited. The juvenile screamed shrilly as the magnesium based pyrotechnic flared inside its mouth, searing its throat
and lungs
with
white-hot fire
. The initial bang had been loud enough to rupture its
eardrums
. The creature was now blind and deaf and in considerable pain, but not
dead
.
It could still kill me.
I had to move quickly.

I
recovered
my .45, cl
awed my way
back up the flour bags and jammed the barrel of the .45 against the underside of the creature’s head, beside its throat.
The fine tracery veins and capillaries in its throat stood out
starkly
,
illuminated
from within
by the flare’s light. The creature
immediately began slashing at me with its beak and talons. I dodged its frantic assault, wrapped
my good left
arm around its neck to hold on and pulled the trigger. At
such a
close range, even the .45 had enough power to penetrate the juvenile’s damaged flesh. I emptied the clip, pleased to see bullets exiting through the top of its head. In its death
throes,
it leaped into the air, carrying me with it. We fell
together
on the far side of the flour sacks. My side burned where a talon had managed to find me
, my right shoulder was bleeding profusely
and my
left
ankle throbbed, but I was alive and the juvenile was not.

Three juveniles
down. One
adult
to go
.

By now,
the
fire
around
the fallen flare
had grown
into a conflagration
, f
eeding on the
t
i
nder of
centuries’ old dry
timbers
and
rotten
f
l
our sacks
. I
t was spreading rapidly
.
Wood s
moke
and a fine mist of flour kicked up by the heat
permeated the air
.
I
could
n’t
see
Joria
through the smoke
and hoped she had come down from the loft
.

“Joria!”
I yelled
, coughing as I inhaled the bitter mixture.

I got no answer. I
groped around the floor
until I found the Pfeifer .60 caliber. I had to eliminate the adult before the room became a
blazing
inferno.
I ignored the pain in my ankle and stood. Walking was an agony but
I
hobbled around searching for Joria and the adult creature.
Suddenly, through the
dense
smoke I saw it
with
its
back turned to me as it stood over its dead offspring
keening
.
The creature
raised its head to the ceiling and screamed
. It was
a blood curdling sound
, momentarily freezing my muscles
.
Fighting panic,
I raised the Pfeifer
with my good left hand
as
the adult
turned to face me.
I could barely lift its thirteen pounds.

“Now I will kill you, human. Child slayer!”
the creature
screamed at me.

The recognizable words coming from the creature’s throat startled me. Joria had
told me
it was capable of speech but I had
not
believ
ed
her.
It had seemed too incredible.
She had been right.

“Why are you doing this?” I yelled to engage it in
conversation as
I
forced the index finger of my
left
hand to
squeeze the trigger.

“To survive
,” it barked
.
“
Offspring are rare and you have murdered them. Your death will be painful.”

“Not as painful
as this,” I snapped.
I
applied
more pressure on the trigger.

The back of my head
suddenly
exploded as something hit me. I fell forward
and hit the floor
. I
roll
ed
over and saw
Joria standing a few feet away. At first,
in my confusion,
I thought she had hit me, but s
moldering debris fell from the roof
, dropping
around
me
.
The ceiling was ablaze
and in danger of collapsing
.
The roar of the fire
mounted
.
I
had to act soon
be
fore the creature or the fire got me. I
ignored Joria,
lunged for the
dropped
Pfeifer and fired at the creature
but
I was too slow. The bullet missed and struck the far wall. The wall exploded
and a
section of masonry collapsed
, revealing an opening to the outside
,
above the old riverbed
.
I kneeled and aimed
at the creature
again.
It
flapped its wings, creating a smoke screen
that hid it from my view
and disappeared. I caught a quick flash of it flying through the opening
I had created
. I limped after it but stopped short as
the remainder of the loft
and part of the roof
collapsed behind it
, sealing the exit
.

I turned to Joria
half hidden by
the smoke
, looking dazed
.
One wall
slowly crumbled. The entire mill was
collaps
ing
around
us
.
The floor began shaking again as another subway train passed through.
I knew the roof would
n
o
t last much longer.
I grabbed Joria
and pulled her behind me, limping as fast as I could
.
We
barely made it out of the room
, the flames licking at
our
back
s
.
Ignoring the pain in my ankle, w
e
raced
down the maze of corridors to the basement with the flames close
behind
. I worried that the gasoline trail I had left would already be ablaze. I did not want to die by fire, especially with the creature still alive. Luckily, the f
lames
had not preceded me
, but just as
we
reached the basement, the
flour dust in the
mill
room
exploded
, shaking the
entire basement
.
I suppose
we
had been lucky to
make
it out alive. The corridors
began to collapse
, sealing in the fire
.
As we ascended the steps from the basement
, I pulled out my
last
flare and struck it
on the gate
.

“Go find a new place to roost
!” I yelled
uselessly
.

Joria stared at me uncomprehending. She watched as
I tossed
the flare
into the opening
.
Then, realizing what I was doing, jerked from my grip and
retreated
from the opening, her eyes wide with fright.
The
basement
exploded into flame. I backed away from the opening,
tripping over a body. I looked
down
into the eyes of another young girl,
victim number six,
her throat gaping
.
If the
adult
was with Joria, the girl had to be the work of the juvenile
.
I had killed it just in time.
I looked back at the
spreading
flames and knew that with my game leg I could
never
drag her body out
before the fire engulfed the entire building
. I mumbled a quick regret to her corpse
, grabbed Joria
and
hobbled
across the nave.
I wanted all traces of the juvenile destroyed and prayed that if there had been more than three, the
flames
would consume them
.
The adult had escaped. I cursed my luck. If not for
the
falling
debris hitting me in the head
, I would have killed it as well.

By the time I
managed to
limp to the
exit,
dragging a strangely silent Joria with me,
f
lames leaped skyward from the tower
and out of the gaping
holes in the roof
, lighting the night
sky
.
Stained glass windows exploded from the heat,
tongues of
flames licking the eaves
of the roof
.
I dragged myself away from the collapsing structure
, out the gaping gate
and fell to the gravel, exhausted
, unable to go any farther
. My lungs ached from breathing smoke
, m
y shoulder burned from the juvenile’s talons
and
m
y ankle was swollen and useless
, b
ut I would live. I would find the creature
and kill it
if I had to chase it all the way back to South America.

From my position, I could see the dry
riverbed
running alongside the church. Flames erupted from a hole in the riverbank
. T
he mill
wall was collapsing
, bringing part of the compound wall
down
with it
. There was no sign of the adult.

I regretted
leaving
the girl’s bod
y
behind
.
She
deserved a proper burial
, not cremation
.
I sat up, reeling.
My mind was beginning a slow dive into oblivion. I knew the fever from the juvenile’s talons was
once again
wracking my body.
I
stared at the growing destruction and
wondered what the captain would have to say. I
might n
ot have to worry about a defense. I could die
right
t
here in the dirt
.

I glanced at Joria
, t
he
flames reflected
in
her eyes as she stared at the burning monastery. She seemed in shock
. I reached out to touch her but she drew back. I knew her ordeal
had been traumatic but I didn’t see any signs of physical wounds, except the three parallel scars on her shoulder I had noticed before.
They were oddly similar to my own scars. As I considered their origin, my muddled mind finally grasped the fact that she had no wounds. How had the
Chupacabra
carried her to the monastery
if not how he had transported its other victims
, with its talons
?