I pulled into the small airport. It was empty—thank goodness—from what I could tell. There weren’t cars in the parking lot. The buildings and hangers appeared vacant as well, understandable for it being so late. I unrolled my window an inch and could hear the soft buzzing of a propeller plane overhead. Rudy sniffed the air and let out a low, guttural growl. I patted him on the head. “They’re here; aren’t they, boy?” He looked from me to the open window and growled again. I pulled out my shotgun and checked it. I didn’t know how many there would be. I dialed the redhead’s number. It rung for a long time, but she finally picked up. I could barely make her out on the other end.

  “Are you about here?” I asked.

  “Yes, we need to land. Lauren was stabbed, and there’s not much left in the tank. I didn’t have time to fill up.”

  “Stabbed? With what?” I demanded.

  “A knife; it’s silver. I’m five minutes out. She passed out an hour ago.”

  Well frick. “You’re going to need to circle around the airport for a bit. I will clear the grounds as quickly as possible.”

  “Alright.” She let out a long, crackly breath.

  A pink eye peeked at me through the small airport window. I caught another glimpse of pink in my rear-view mirror. Rudy had begun to rumble viciously. “I have to go. If don’t call back, you’re on your own.”

  I tossed the phone on the passenger seat next to me and gunned the truck, barreling through the chain-link gate, and sped down the tarmac. A half dozen pink, glittering eyes appeared to be chasing after me. I reached the end of the runway in moments. I slammed on the brakes and skidded a bit, then drifted; the back tires turned on the approaching eyes.

  I clipped one of the creatures before it could leap out of the way and almost managed to hit another. I don’t know what happened to the one I clipped. As I swung the truck back around for a second pass, I was surprised when one slammed into my door, rocking the truck and causing me to skid towards one of the parked planes on the runway. The creature clung to the truck. I veered off the runway onto the large grassy field. I pulled my 1911 from my jacket and fired at the creature’s face.

  I swerved and slammed on the brakes, swinging the creature from side to side as it clung to the truck; its talons sunk deep into the sheet metal. I was coming up on a tree line fast and had to swerve again. The truck shook as another one managed to leap into the bed. I gunned the engine and could feel the one in the bed rock the truck back and forth as it started tearing into the top of the cab. I fired two rounds back at it with little effect.

  I was zipping past the airport’s main building and saw two double glass doors that opened onto the tarmac. I pointed the nose of the truck towards them. I crashed through the doors, shaving the two creatures off the truck. I came to a hard stop in an office. Rudy, who had been in the backseat was now getting up from the floor of the passenger side. I was grateful I followed Victor’s advice and disabled my air bags.

  I grabbed my shotgun from the passenger seat and pushed open the door. Stepping out, I saw a massive form taking up the entire hole in the drywall that I made. I barely had time to shoot from the hip before it got up. My shots hit their mark, tearing into the massive flat faced loma like creature. After five rounds of alternating buckshot and slugs, it was writhing on the floor, gasping. Not many things tear stuff up as well as twelve gauge, three and a half inch shells. A shimmering pink eye appeared around the dry wall, revealing half of a creature’s flat face. I fired three rounds reflexively, dropping it instantly. My ears were ringing.

  Rudy growled beside me, inching towards the first flailing monster. “Back. Heel. Heel,” I ordered, but he paid me no mind as he crouched then pounced on the monster, sinking his teeth into the long neck. A second later, I watched through the hole as the propeller plane skidded and then tumbled across the runway. I fumbled with the office door. It was locked. I blew the knob away with my shotgun. I entered the lobby to find black figures descending upon the plane. I rushed out and emptied the rest of my 25-round drum mag into the descending monsters. I switched mags, discarding the empty one and shoving in a ten round, stick mag. One of the monsters broke from the others and charged me. I barely dropped it before it slammed into me.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  I was 27 yards from the wreck and emptied the rest of that mag at the three remaining monsters. They ignored my attack as they tore at the plane, trying to get in. I sprinted, switched to my last mag, and stopped at ten yards. I shouldered my shotgun, heaving, and squeezed off three more rounds when something plowed into me, sending me rolling and scraping against the asphalt. My shotgun was torn from my grip.

  One of the monsters stuck its talons into my right thigh and drug me to its flat, ugly face. I reached for my 1911, but it was missing from my holster. The monster’s flat mouth opened to reveal a mouth full of sharp rotting canines. Its head lunged at me. I grabbed its neck with both hands right under its head, barely keeping its face from burrowing into my neck. It withdrew a taloned hand from my leg and dug into my chest, slowly piercing through my Kevlar lined jacket. Its head slowly sunk down closer and closer to my face.

  A series of shotgun blasts erupted, and the head went limp in my grasp. The creature’s spine was detached at the base, near its shoulders. I shoved it to the side and pried its talons out of my body. I sat up to find Amber standing over me. Her right leg was soaked in blood. She was holding her left eye with one hand; blood dripped through her fingers. She had my shotgun in her other hand with the stalk tucked under her arm. She pointed it over me at two monsters that were circling Rudy. She let loose two more blasts, not hitting either of the creatures. I took the shotgun from her and emptied the gun into the creature to the right of Rudy, blowing out the back of its head with the last shot.

  I watched as Rudy took the opportunity to lunge, sinking his teeth in the second creature’s neck with a satisfying crunch. The creature’s body froze, then flopped to the ground as Rudy thrashed. I couldn’t believe it. I walked over and repeatedly bashed its head against the tarmac with the butt of my shotgun. Rudy kept thrashing, but I was certain it was dead.

  I scanned the surroundings—nothing. I checked my mag; it was definitely empty. If I could make it back to the truck, I could pack my empty mags. Amber was leaning over, holding her head with both hands and rocking slightly. I walked over to her. She moaned. Had I been the one to sustain such injures, I would be dead. She as definitely not human.

  I called to Rudy. “Leave it. Come here, Rudy. Here.” He didn’t listen. “Leave it,” I yelled angrily. This got his attention. He looked back at me and stopped thrashing the corpse. “Leave it,” I commanded again. He reluctantly left the creature. Flopping over to me, once he saw Amber, he skipped me entirely and settled down next her, licking her arm. She laughed miserably as she patted him, still holding her hand against her left eye. “I’ll be back, I’m getting the truck.”

  “Alright,” Amber mumbled.

  I walked back through the wreckage, climbed in my truck, and thanked heaven when it backed out of the building. I pulled alongside Rudy and Amber. Amber was clearly in a lot of pain. She was taking deep, stuttering breaths, and biting her lower lip. “I’m going to get you plugged up. Take this.” I ripped the wrapping off a popsicle that I pulled from my med pack.

  “What is it?” She grunted.

  “Morphine popsicle.” She took it reluctantly. I worked quickly to wrap the large gash in her thigh then pack her dislodged eye back in with gauze. That side of her face was so covered in blood, I had no idea how bad it was, and I didn’t have time to find out. We were in rural Ohio, but someone would come and see what caused all the ruckus, and we didn’t need to be here when they did. I helped Amber into the passenger seat. Finding my 1911 on the floor, I slid it back in its holster. Rudy got in, sitting at Amber’s feet. I drove the truck around occasionally stopping, getting out, and throwing a creature body in the back.

  “Are you going to get Lauren?” Amber muttered. The morphine was clearly setting in.

  “In a minute.” I didn’t want to see what had happened to Lauren, so I gathered up the remaining creatures. They filled the back of my pickup, weighing the whole thing down a couple inches.

  I finally forced myself to pull up alongside the crashed plane. I shone my flashlight into the cockpit. Lauren had a metal bar lodged in her chest, and her left arm was mostly detached at the shoulder. Her face was surprisingly tranquil. I couldn’t leave her; I did not feel the echo of her soul. She was still alive. I climbed in, dragged her out of the plane, and settled her in the backseat of the truck. Rudy jumped in the back, clambering over Amber and causing her to wheeze in pain. He settled down on the floor, staring up at Lauren’s face.

  I walked to the gas pump and filled a bucket with aviation fuel. I dumped it on the plane, then repeated the process in the small airport’s main office building. I left the pump running, spreading gas across the tarmac. They were going to have to build a new building anyway so why not add a new pump? I created a trail connecting the plane, building, and pump, then walked to where I parked my truck a hundred yards on the other side of the smashed gate. I lit the end of the trail with my zippo and watched the flame run. I wanted to stay and watch it all burn, get lost in the flame, but Lauren and Amber needed help and that help was far away.