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Jordan had never thrown a knife before, but she’d seen it done on TV. She grabbed the biggest one she had by the blade and flung it end over end toward one of the monster’s eyes.
The handle hit just to the left of where she aimed, bouncing off harmlessly. She hadn’t managed to hurt it, but she had managed to get the thing’s attention.
Great.
The fiery light in its eyes flared, trapping her gaze. The greasy weight of fear descended on her, pinning her in place. Like a deer frozen in headlights, she was unable to move. She couldn’t even breathe. An alien presence slithered into her thoughts, burrowed into her brain like a worm. The world stopped. Time fell away. She heard a hissing whisper buzzing in her ears, telling her hope was futile. Death was easier. All she had to do was hold still and it would all be over. Let it eat her, just as Anne had said.
Poor, sweet Anne. Her baby was going to have to grow up without a mother. If she was lucky enough to grow up at all.
The monster lumbered toward her, growing larger by the second. Jordan tried to close her eyes. She didn’t want to see it happen, but she couldn’t look away. The monster wouldn’t let her. It held her gaze, whispering to her of death and peace.
How could there be any peace without Anne? Who was going to take care of her? She couldn’t stand here and let this thing eat her. She had to fight.
The fiery light in the monster’s eyes flared brighter, and a searing pain exploded between Jordan’s temples. The hissing inside her ears grew louder. Her knees locked. Her body shook under the strain of trying to break free from the monster’s hold.
It was close now—close enough to touch. It opened its jaws, and Jordan could feel its satisfaction slithering inside her mind. It knew it had won.
Jordan put the image of her baby’s face in her mind and clung to that. Her mind filled with memories of Anne’s first laugh, her first step, her first day of school, when she seemed far too little to be away for so long. She’d been so brave that day, wiping away Jordan’s tears and telling her she was a big girl now. She’d come home from school devastated that she hadn’t learned to read that day, and it had been Jordan’s turn to wipe away the tears.
So many happy memories of going to the zoo or watching cheesy movies and making up their own dialogue. Jordan was going to miss so much of Anne’s life, but she’d take her baby’s sweet smile with her and hold it close, always.
A heavy weight slammed into her, knocking her off her feet. Shock ripped her eyes open, despite her desire not to witness her gruesome death. Instead of the monster, it was Ryder who was on top of her. He’d knocked her out of its path and was now shielding her with his body.
Now that she was no longer looking into the monster’s eyes, the hissing whisper was gone from her mind and she was back behind the wheel of her own body. She blinked up at Ryder, trying to shed the lethargy in her limbs and the suicidal haze in her mind. She wasn’t sure what had just happened—how it had turned her into a person she didn’t recognize—but she knew she wasn’t going to let it happen again. No more looking into the monster’s eyes.
“Get back in the damn pantry,” growled Ryder, then he rolled over and started firing at the thing. It roared in pain and reared back. The tentacle flapped in the air as if trying to swat away the bullets.
“I’m trying to help.”
He pushed to his feet, and she could see blood soaking the front of his shirt. Three parallel cuts had torn it to shreds, as well as scoring his skin beneath. “You’re just in the way.”
“Tell me what I can do to kill it.”
“Nothing. We’re screwed.”
“I’m not letting it eat my baby. We need a plan.”
He fired again. The bullets weren’t breaking the skin, but they were keeping the thing pinned against the far wall as it batted at them like mosquitoes. “I had one, but it’s not working.”
“What was it?”
“Get it to eat the propane tank. Shoot the tank and make it explode in the thing’s mouth.”
“Do you think that would work?”
“Maybe. But it knows the tank’s not food, so it’s not going for it.”
It leaned forward from the wall, only to flinch back when Ryder’s gun fired again. Jordan didn’t know how many bullets he had in that gun, but they weren’t going to last long.
The monster ate people. Maybe if the tank smelled like people, it woul
d eat it. At this point, anything was worth a shot.
Jordan took one of the small knives from the caddy and scored a line on her forearm. Blood welled up from the cut.
“What the fuck are you doing?” demanded Ryder.
She smeared her blood over the tank, painting it a grotesque red. “Up here we do a lot of fishing. You have to put scent on your bait to get the fish to bite.”
