Homeward Bound (Journeyman Book 1) (15 page)

“Move!” she shouted vehemently, placing herself at risk of being targeted by either of the monsters. “You have to get away from there!” she cried, but it was to no avail, her voice unable to carry itself over the cacophony in between.

The beast swung its tail at the van, bulldozing its way through the roof, getting stuck halfway across the ragged metal that had peeled away. As it tried to pull free, the wheels resisted like nails on a chalkboard and each powerful tug left thick skid marks imprinted on the concrete.

Likely addled from fear, the family stayed put during the onslaught instead of taking a chance to run for safer cover.

Adrienne shook her head as she stood there dumbfounded.

The creature’s tail came loose with a deafening snap and the van lurched up on two of its wheels before tipping over, crushing the cowering group underneath its unforgiving weight. Her gut wrenched as the creatures didn't even bother rifling through the debris to consume them, instead stomping by as their heavy footfalls cracked the pavement. What a waste of life.

One of the beasts headed straight toward a couple of defenseless bikers over at The Crispy Biscuit,
desperately trying to get their Harleys started while the other one took to beating itself against a lifted black Dually that was parked at the motel. Inside, the passengers were screaming like little musical sardines as they were tossed around mercilessly.

Adrienne and Gage finally reached the GMC and he leapt up into the bed, unlocking their magic box of goodies. He tossed her a marked long sword and pistol, grabbing his own MK23 from its holster before removing his now favorite machete and a rune stone before slamming the box closed.

“What the hell are those things!?” shouted Adrienne.

“Bunyip I think. Haven’t seen one in real life though and I might have skipped over a lot of the lore, since Aussie cryptos ain’t normally on this side of the world.”

He donned his sunglasses. Through the lenses he saw their heads were pulsing with intense colors: yellows and reds shifting hues around the sinuses. The corners of his lips fell to a frown and he added begrudgingly, “From the looks of it they’re berserked. Lucky us.”

“Good lord, what are they doing here in Texas of all places?”

“I dunno but they’re definitely a little far from home,” he said, racking the slide. The sound was pure comfort to him. “Wouldn’t surprise me one bit if the Noctis or some other faction was behind this.”

“Yup, I agree. So how do we take them down?” she asked eagerly.

“Well,” he started confidently while holding up the gun and machete in turn. “I assume they're gonna be like most of the things we encounter on four legs: hating bullets or the sharp end of a sword.”

Adrienne abandoned all her eagerness in no time flat. “So that's it?” she said with heavy disappointment in her voice, waiting for a bit more detail, like what kind of bullets were useful or if any specific symbols and marks would put them down faster.

As expected, nothing more came from Gage on the matter.

“So… that’s all we have to go on?” she muttered. “Call J.”

“Yeppers!” said Gage with a playful nod as he ran toward the motel, “and phone’s dead again. Ain't this fun?”

“No,” she replied to herself before running after him, “it’s not fun at all.”

The bunyip continued to beat itself against the side of the buckling truck, trying to get at the tenderized morsels inside. It used its claws to pry off the doors as if it were some huge tin can. The passengers had since blacked out and large bloody patches stained the side windows and dashboard vinyl. If they weren’t dead, they were certainly pretty close to it.

Meanwhile, the two men on motorcycles managed to flee the scene in the nick of time, missing the jaws of death coming for them by mere seconds. Instead of chasing after the racing bikes, that bunyip turned its attention to a construction vehicle parked close by and it let out a satisfying puff from its monstrous nostrils.

Standing there, appetizing and at the ready with an arsenal of tools, were the three garish men who had brashly commented about Adrienne’s figure earlier. The heavyset man pushed by his colleagues and slapped a long black wrecking bar across his fatty gloved palm.

“Come on, ya sumbitch!” he yelled.

On command, the mighty beast lunged forward.

Back at the motel, Gage popped a couple of rounds straight into the creature’s legs. They pierced its flesh without issue and it winced in obvious pain, retracting its body from the truck as a thin liquid flowed out from the bullet holes. Now that there was a confirmation that bullets worked against the thing, Gage focused in like a laser, his confidence pegged high.

The monster roared angrily at him as he continued forward unabashed, its tail lashing against the weathered doors, bashing splintered dents into the wood.

“Bad luck, beastie,” he said, reaching into his pocket to pull out the stone he had previously tucked in there. Drawing it back to ready a throw, he whispered
Fila glaciem
and then cast it hard at his injured foe.

At the truck, the blocky man swung and missed, tumbling forward and rolling with his weight and the energy of his swing as the bunyip raced by. It had singled out the young blonde man standing in front of it, pacing back and forth a couple times as if to antagonize him before lunging forward with its jaws fully bared.

The man turned his lithe body and the enemy brushed against his stomach, biting into thin air. The force of the bite was palpable. Had it been closer, it might have shaved off hairs along with his shirt with its abrasive skin. Instead, a solid line of thick saliva was painted in a swath across his middle.

Not wasting a second, he used both hands to pull a couple long screwdrivers out from his tool belt. Twirling them amongst his fingers, they glinted in the morning light as he grabbed the handles tightly and drove the shafts into the creature’s passing neck. As they sunk in with a gratifying squelch, he rotated them like joysticks to enlarge the wounds. Brown fluid globbed out of the gaping punctures, accosting him with the smell of rancid chicken. Catching him off guard he gagged, loosening his grip right as the beast jolted, knocking him into the side of the vehicle. Now winded, he grabbed at his aching back while writhing on the pavement, the sharp soreness spreading down to his legs and up into his shoulders.

Stepping forward and latching on with a large claw on the roof of the truck, the creature’s heavy drool pooled in chunky splats around the young man as it hovered over its next meal. A large blob accumulated on its chin before weighing enough to come splashing down on his face, smothering his view.

Back at the motel, the rune stone danced its way through the air, leaving behind faint trails of white dust. It landed at the beast’s feet, spinning before exploding into a dazzling burst of blue. Swirls of frost quickly settled around its body like thickening ropes, encasing its legs, torso and snout in icy bondage before yanking it hard to the ground. Water was forced out of the frigid air into a roiling fog that engulfed the creature.

Adrienne fired her pistol from a distance, her aim true despite the thick vapor. With each shot the beast moaned sorely. Before long she had expended her ammo, holstering the pistol and grabbing the long sword.

Confidently, Gage strode past her and up to the impounded beast, placing a boot on its long muzzle. The frosty coating crackled and popped under his weight.

“Enough death today,” he said coolly and fired, aiming for the space between its eyes.

The bullet went in but the creature did not die. Instead, its eyes locked in his direction and grew devilishly narrow, a low growl rising to rattle the strands that were restraining it.

“Ah shit,” Gage groaned, quickly reaching for serrated steel but not before the filaments shattered and sent him zooming through the air. A short distance later he whacked the inflexible ground along with a hailstorm of numbing shards.

On the ground by the construction vehicle, the blinded young man worked feverishly to wipe away the slimy goo that had coated his face. It was difficult to remove since it was incredibly sticky. After a few seconds, he was able to clear his vision enough to see through a murky sheen. Slopping the smelly gunk off his hands, he saw nothing but a forest of imposing fangs in front of him.

“Mother fucker,” he said, realizing there was nothing he could do. The sharp teeth came down and he dodged it once, then twice. He looked out under the truck and a murky outline of a green dress caught his eye. He opened his mouth as if to call for help but as he did so, teeth came in over his head like a clamp and in one powerful bite it was gone, swallowed whole.

Shouts of rage came from behind and the stocky man struck the distracted beast hard on the side of its face with his wrecking bar while the other man popped it with a solid hit from his sledgehammer. The devastating barrage continued with swipe after brutal strike.

Adrienne turned and slid as the bunyip shook loose its tattered constraints and leapt over her on a frenzied charge toward Gage. She raised the long sword up above her as her soft knees skidded bleeding across the pavement. The sword tip sunk into the creature’s hardened flesh, squelching as it tore through its dank and pungent innards.

With a final cry it collapsed to the ground, skidding to a stop just before those infamous scuffed boots.

Dizzy from the salvo hefty strikes, the last bunyip stumbled into the construction truck then hunched over into the large dent it made in the side. The men walked over to it as it struggled to gain composure, reaching into their reflective vests and pulling out hidden knives. With arms raised in unison, they struck at it with their short stubs of metal and a loud
boom
ushered out of the wounds, storming through the crowds as if a bomb had gone off.

Gage looked across toward the source of the noise and saw the creature keeling over just after the men stabbed it. He could swear he saw a faint red glow, visible just for a few seconds, but it was hard to make out and could have just been a trick of the the morning light. Had he blinked, he would have missed it.

“Ady,” he said softly, “come this way.” He started to walk off briskly, without waiting for a reply.

“Gage?” she asked, concerned at the tone he was using. Realizing that he was not going to answer, she caught her breath and got up off her knees, falling in a few steps behind him. “Gage, what is it? Gage?”

He was making his way directly for the GMC, sure to ignore the men as he walked by. However, Adrienne didn't get the memo and made eye contact with the ghoulish one, noticing the fallen bunyip had large gashes in its side.

The men lowered their blades in disturbing synchrony as they continued to look at the two of them, still slobbering tobacco from chapped lips and churning wads of gum.

“Well, well,” said the large one, the freakish cracking of his voice hinting at something devious. “Lookie who we have here.”

Gage panned across them each in turn and they stared emptily back, not saying a word. Their beady eyes, however, held back secrets which spoke directly to his gut.

“Ady, do you mind going to collect our stuff please?” he asked and the tone of his voice indicated he wasn’t going to accept no as a response.

A little confused, but sensing the tension in the air as tight and uneasy as a plucked guitar string, she walked over to the front of the shop to pick up their bags.

“It’s time to go,” stated Gage. He climbed in and cranked the engine.

She hopped in after him and grabbed her trusty cap from the glove box while Gage pulled out of the gas station onto the service road. She tipped her hat and waved briefly as they drove away.

“Well, not to stereotype,” she said to Gage as she rolled down her window, resting an arm on the edge, “but they fought pretty good for creepy hayseeds.”

He stayed focused on the road ahead. “Yeah,” he replied faintly, “too good.”

As the GMC returned to the highway and shrank away on the distant horizon, Amarillo police and emergency services began to flood the scene.

The two workers watched Gage and Adrienne’s vehicle disappear and turned their attention back to the beast they had slain. They were joined by a middle aged woman, her vibrant green dress made dingy with stains of blood and chunks of gore.

All of their eyes were now black as night and rimmed with crimson.

THE SANITARIUM’S COMMAND
center was jammed in an old cafeteria on the ground floor of the building, gutted of all traces of its previous life except for the aroma of French fries and peanut oil that forever drenched the walls. It normally bustled with activity, but this afternoon was different. The buzz had increased ten fold after six fateful words came across channels from Amarillo:
Gage Crosse was on the move
.

In the three years since he had blazed onto the scene and into the chronicles as one of the most successful slayers in history, many a demon both lesser and great had come to respect and fear his name. How ironic it was that they no longer feared the cross, long the bane of their existence, but would now cower at the mere mention of Crosse.