The Monster MASH Page 8

  Blood pounding in my ears, rocks in my hair, I slammed the door.

  “What was that?” I’d never seen anything like it.

  The inside of the jeep smelled like dirt and decay. I was sitting in the passenger seat, with the driver’s-side door across from me closed. Okay, good. The roof looked relatively intact. Hallelujah. And it was a hardtop. I wanted to kiss whoever had ordered a sturdy roof for this hunk of junk.

  My eyes watered from the stench of lighter fluid. That was when I realized I was still holding a lighted torch. Cripes.

  I nearly dropped it when a giant claw smashed into the window next to me. The safety glass fractured into a jagged web.

  Skreek!

  No way the window would hold against another hit. I scrambled for the driver’s seat as the creature slammed its claw straight through. It sliced into the seat at head level, sending foam cushion bits flying.

  I seared the giant red claw with my torch.

  Skreek! The creature shuddered.

  Ha! “The monster doesn’t like fire.” I waved my torch at a claw the size of a guillotine blade.

  My palms burned as it clamped around my weapon and yanked the torch straight out of my hands.

  The monster held it aloft, and as I pressed my back against the driver’s-side door, I got a no-holds-barred look at the largest scorpion I’d ever laid eyes on. It was at least six feet long, with a reddened body, grasping claws, and a segmented tail curling over its back into a pointed stinger bigger than my head.

  The creature waved my torch in the air before snapping it in half.

  Unbelievable.

  This thing could tear me apart in seconds.

  I checked the backseat for weapons. Nothing. The jeep had been stripped clean.

  And of course I’d given up the dagger.

  I checked my pants pocket anyway.

  Empty.

  My heart caught in my throat as the scorpion reached for me, one claw clattering against the dashboard as the other slammed against the front window. The jeep heaved with the impact.

  I couldn’t outrun it.

  But I couldn’t stay.

  I was going to die in here. If I didn’t get out, I was going to die.

  Okay. Deep breaths. I twisted the driver’s-side door open and nearly fell out onto the hard-packed dirt. Hulks of twisted metal appeared gray under the full moon. I started to run until I saw an immense creature skitter out from behind the rusted-out bus next to me, its tail curled and ready to strike.

  Damn the gods. Two? Chest heaving, I hustled back inside the jeep and slammed the door. Then I locked it. As if that would stop a giant scorpion. I was so screwed.

  Chapter Seven

  The second scorpion was on me in a heartbeat. I yanked my hand away from the car door as a large black eyeball pressed near the glass. Its mouthparts twitched as it stared me down.

  Heaven help me. I was dinner under glass.

  Skreek!

  The first scorpion leapt onto the hood and smashed its tail into the front window. Glass rained down as I dove for the backseat.

  The tail was as thick as a battering ram, with a curved spike on the end. I gasped as it dripped its poison onto the stick shift, each drop sizzling into the plastic.

  I struggled to get back as far as I could. Feet out, I was ready to kick the bastard if I had to. It was a pathetic attempt, but it was all I had. I couldn’t run. These things would be faster. And there was absolutely nowhere to hide.

  Galen leapt onto the hood behind it, wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms. I’d never been so glad to see anyone in my life.

  “Alala!” He bellowed the Athenian war cry, and I about choked as he drove a metal spike through the fat body of the first scorpion.

  It lurched forward and let out a piercing yowl, its claws exploding the remainder of the windshield as they tumbled onto the dash.

  “Get back as far as you can!” he ordered.

  “Right,” I croaked.

  I wanted to dig a hole in the ground and live there as I watched the creature’s spiderlike legs scrabble against the hood of the jeep.

  If this thing came any closer, I was going to have to make a run for it out the back. If I could get out that way.

  I dragged my knees as close as I could to my chest while the dying predator thrashed in front of me.

  Galen leapt off the hood. Holy moly, he was going after the other one. I’d have to finish this one, bash its head in. Numb, I searched for something—anything—that I could use on its head. If it had a head. It was more like a giant mouth with tentacles coming out.

  My heart sank as the blood pounded in my ears. I had nothing.

  Outside, the second creature shrieked.

  Galen let out a low grunt.

  “Get in the front seat!” he ordered, a desperate edge to his voice.

  “What?” He had to be crazy.

  “Now! Now! Now!”

  The air whooshed out of my lungs. I said a quick prayer and tumbled into the driver’s seat.

  Curse Galen of Delphi if he was wrong.

  Skreek!

  The seat underneath me jerked as the entire back end of the jeep caved in.

  “Galen!” I shouted, on the verge of panic as I was shoved forward into the steering wheel. I pushed away from it, knees slipping into the space below the driver’s seat. I dug them against the floorboard as I edged toward the center of the car. Another blow buried the steering wheel into the seat behind it, nearly crushing me.

  Trapped, I braced both hands against the plastic underside of the dash, crouching close, trying to make myself as small as possible as I faced the shuddering predator.

  I swallowed, trying to breathe. The first scorpion’s stinger was an inch from my cheek, dripping poison into the black hole where the stick shift had melted away.

  “Petra.” Galen’s voice drew closer.

  I didn’t dare move.

  “Petra,” he repeated, the edge back in his voice.

  “I’m here,” I said into the plastic.

  “Thank the gods,” he swore. “Hang on. I’ve got you.”

  Behind me, I heard the high-pitched rending of metal and steel as he yanked the door off its hinges. The seat that pinned me was wrenched back. “Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, breathing freely again, afraid to turn my head, not willing to take my eyes off the stinger.

  “We’ll get you out of there.” Galen’s hand closed over my shoulder. “Follow my lead, okay?”

  “Gotcha,” I said, trying—and failing—to maintain a shred of calm as I inched toward him.

  My back hit the steering wheel.

  “Can you bend?”

  I felt closed in, trapped in the tiny space. “No.” My mind raced. My breath came in gasps. I started seeing tiny black dots in front of my eyes.

  Oh no.

  I hadn’t had a panic attack since med school.

  I braced my hands on the dirty floor of the jeep and breathed in through the mouth, out through the nose. In through the mouth, out through the nose. I couldn’t lose it. Not now or I could fall right into that stinger.

  “Hold on.” I heard the groan of plastic and metal as the barrier behind me lifted. One arm curled around my waist, drawing me away from the deadly poison. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

  “I’m fine.” I tried to swallow. Failed. “Just don’t touch me for a minute.” I had this handled. I was almost out. Galen had ripped off the steering wheel and a lot of other parts, too. Because, sure, of course—why not slay two giant scorpions and then rip the side off a jeep? I couldn’t believe I was even a teeny-tiny part of this. I gave a high-pitched, strung-out laugh. “What are you, Superman?”

  “Only your average demigod.”

  I tried to croak out another laugh. There was nothing average about this man.

  My body was stiff with fear and shock. As soon as I started moving, I came down with the shakes.

  “Easy now,” he said, catching me
when I reached the edge of the seat, making sure I didn’t fall face-first into the dirt.

  “Oh yeah. Piece of cake,” I said as he pulled me from the wreck. He was breathing hard, his grip steady. Mine was not.

  The jeep was crushed—with one speared monster on the roof and another on the hood.

  “I’m a doctor, not a soldier,” I said, hardly believing I’d made it out alive.

  “We all have our gifts,” he said, angling himself between me and the wreck. He’d lost his new bandage somewhere along the way. “Are you all right?” he asked, holding me at arm’s length to check me over.

  “Yes,” I insisted. “Fine.” Or at least I would be. I didn’t have a choice. “How are you?”

  I ran my fingers along the puckered red scar where I’d sewn him together. He inhaled sharply. “Does it hurt?” I asked. Technically, slaying giant scorpions was against doctor’s orders, at least so soon after surgery.

  “I’m fine,” he insisted.

  Sure. Just like me. The moonlight framed him like a halo. “How did you find me?”

  For once, he appeared at a loss for words. “I—”

  Both of us stiffened as screams pierced the night. He whipped his head around as if he could see into the darkness.

  “Imps,” I warned, lowering my voice.

  “Let’s get back to camp,” he murmured.

  My heart leapt as a hissing crackle pierced the air. I looked to the roof of the jeep and saw the assassin’s body smoke and bubble, folding into itself, boiling down into the passenger area. The metal groaned and collapsed. I gasped as it took the stinger of the first scorpion with it, along with the entire front end of the vehicle.

  I stared, wide-eyed. “Please tell me they’re dead at least.”

  “That one was.” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “But they heal fast. Let’s make sure the other one doesn’t recover and follow us.”

  Galen took two steps backward and located a long piece of steel that might have been a stretcher support or perhaps part of a helicopter blade. No matter. He lifted it like it weighed nothing, his broad shoulders steady, the muscles in his back flexing.

  To think I’d ordered this soldier into a wheelchair.

  I watched as he bounded up onto the front of the jeep. Legs spread, he plunged the improvised spear into the abdomen of the scorpion on the hood.

  The metal hissed as the creature’s flesh crackled around it.

  He used an arm to wipe the sweat from his face. “I must have missed the heart the first time,” he said, dodging a sizzling pile of goo.

  Oh sure. That was it. “If I had a nickel for every time that happened to me.”

  “Do you have a smart answer for everything?” he asked, jumping down.

  “It’s a character flaw,” I admitted. “What are those things?”

  His chest and shoulders stiffened. “Carnivorous scorpions.”

  “Carnivorous?” I wanted to bend in half and cry like a baby.

  He wore a calculating expression. “Come on,” he said, leading me past the giant bugs. “They were sent by the old gods,” he added, glancing sideways at the wreck. “Or at least that’s who usually uses carnivorous scorpions.”

  There was no reason for them to show up in the minefield, unless… What if the old gods knew I could see the dead? What if they were after me?

  Horrific screams pierced the night. The imps were getting closer. “Let’s get out of here,” I urged.

  Chapter Eight

  “Imps don’t usually make it as far as the minefield,” I assured him. And myself. I glanced behind us as we made it back onto the path. Father McArio had warded our camp extremely well.

  Galen handed me the upper half of my torch. “I doubt you have killer scorpions, either.”

  Touché.

  I dug my standard-issue lighter out of my jacket pocket and set fire to the torch while Galen searched the surrounding area.

  “Earlier,” he said, keeping an eye on me, “when we went out walking, I could tell something was following us. Only I didn’t know what.”

  It sank in with sickening clarity. “These things were stalking me?”

  “Only two,” he clarified as if that made a difference. I supposed it did if you were fighting them, like Galen did.

  He stopped in front of a heap of twisted metal. His shoulder and trunk muscles flexing, he yanked a formidable-looking bar out of the wreck like a sword. “All set,” he said to himself, hefting it in one hand.

  “Sure,” I said. And I thought I’d seen it all.

  Rocks crunched under our boots as we navigated as quickly as we could back toward camp.

  “I don’t think the scorpions could get into camp, or they would have,” he said, keeping an eye out for danger.

  It was a full-time job in the minefield.

  “I should never have let you out of my sight,” he added as if I was somehow his responsibility now.

  “Technically, I’m taking care of you,” I reminded him as if I hadn’t tried to get rid of him this morning.

  He laughed.

  “You don’t have to get cocky about it,” I pointed out.

  “There’s one piece of this puzzle I don’t understand,” he said.

  “Only one?” I prodded.

  “When gods order a carnivorous scorpion for a kill, they give them a very specific assignment. Find the one who stole the White Hind of Diana, for example.” He looked down at me as if he already knew the answer. “What could they have used to distinguish you as a mark?”

  Dread slithered through me. My ability to see the dead?

  Or… I felt the heaviness in my pants pocket.

  It couldn’t be. I nudged a hand inside and felt the wrapped handle of a knife.

  So much for leaving it with Father McArio.

  I wouldn’t make that mistake again—not if it meant leaving the poor priest on the edge of the Limbo wastelands with a carnivorous assassin locator beacon.

  If that’s truly what it was.

  I needed to make sense out of something, anything. “Tell me this,” I said, turning it around on him. “How did you make it out of recovery?”

  He seemed amused by that question. “I’m elite special forces. I know how to sneak around.”

  Covert operator. Scorpion basher. Too bad I had to get rid of him. “Thanks for saving me.”

  He grinned. “I could say the same to you.”

  I dodged an old engine that jutted into the path as his gaze flicked to the darkness behind us. “Quickly,” he said.

  I glanced behind, unable to see anything but blackness as we picked up the pace. “You can take an imp, right?”

  “Depends on how many there are. Keep your eyes peeled. They like to ambush.”

  We made our way through the cold night. Me, hurrying. Him, stalking like a predator. Forget about pranks. He didn’t even miss a loose rock in front of us. Which was good because I’d seen pictures of imps, with their scaly skin, sharp claws, and rows of scalpel-sharp teeth, but I really didn’t want to meet any.

  Galen had us out of the minefield with startling efficiency. Below the cemetery, I could see the torches of our camp and the welcoming light from the hospital tents.

  “Your wards are stronger here,” he said.

  “Good,” I said, eyeing the junkyard behind us as if something was going to come jumping out. “I can’t believe we walked that fast without tripping any pranks.”

  “You mean like this?” Galen eased a mummified scarab out of the pocket of his pajama bottoms and held it under the flickering torchlight. “I found it on the way in. Thought it was kind of cute.”

  “Ew.” The thing looked like it had been digested and spit out. “How did you even know it was a prank?”

  “There was a sign next to it.” He nudged me forward. “Come on,” he said as we started back toward camp.

  “You’ll have to tell Jeffe you were scared.”

  “The sphinx? That would mean admitting I snuck out of recovery.”


  “Don’t worry. I think you’ll be missed,” I said, dreading that explanation.

  He grinned down at me. “Escapes are one of my specialties.”

  That and slaying giant scorpions. I stuck close, glad for the company as we navigated the maze of graves. He was my personal warrior, at least until I shipped him out.

  We walked in silence until we reached the dirt path beyond the funeral pyres.

  When we stepped past the wards near the edge of the cemetery, I wanted to collapse in relief. “Okay, let’s get you back to the hospital.”

  He barked out a laugh. “I can’t go to the hospital. I’m guarding you.”

  “I’ve never felt more cared for.” In a manner of speaking. “But I can’t have a patient in my hutch,” I added.

  He had to see how ridiculous it was. If he belonged anywhere, it was in the hospital. Or in another camp entirely.

  I’d been actively avoiding him, and now I was going to let him follow me home and stay for how long? I didn’t know. Worse, a part of me thought it could be a pretty good idea.

  Of course, that was the part of me that wasn’t thinking about prophecies, seeing the dead, or the bronze knife in my pocket.

  The dust wasn’t packed down here like it was on the paths, and my righteous stomping whipped up a small cloud. I could practically taste the staleness in the air.

  “I don’t care what it looks like,” he said behind me.

  “Obviously,” I said, dodging a leaning Celtic cross.

  He took my arm and stopped me cold. The playfulness was gone. In front of me stood a fierce protector. “Do you realize what almost happened back there? You almost got eaten. I don’t know how you were marked, but I know there’s a lot you’re not telling me. And until we get to the bottom of this, you need a bodyguard.”

  “You said the wards were good,” I protested, my body warming like a traitor at the thought.

  His eyes swept over me, missing absolutely nothing. “Right now. But there’s no guarantee. You need strength and power.” He planted his weapon in the dirt. The corner of his mouth betrayed a grin. “Now, are you going to see reason, or am I going to have to convince you?”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I hated being backed into a corner, living this nightmare. Because there were big, bad things out to get me. Everything he said was true.