Andy hadn't meant to drift off, but the steady movement of the van along the road, the quiet thunder of the engine, and the soft murmurs between Veronica and Steve conspired to lull him back into whatever passed for sleep for a newly-reborn wight.
Rocky ground and stormy sky, a beast half-seen at his side and the awareness of the dead all around them. The beast wasn't hunting him this time; it nudged his hand, urging him to bring the claws out and hunt alongside it. The dead had their own calls, murmuring to themselves and sometimes crying out; Andy could have answered them, but didn't. He chose the claws instead, paced the beast as best he could -- it slipped between the rocks while he bounded from top to top, tracing his way above.
The bird that came screaming down at him, talons extended, was all reds and oranges and yellows, burning a trail of fire behind it, and might have been the sun; he dove down into the maze of rocks to avoid it.
The beast had no such compulsions. It sprang as the raptor's massive talons missed Andy, sank fangs into the bird's neck, and sent it tumbling into the rocks, where it impaled itself on an irregular spire. The beast dropped away as the bird thrashed and finally fell still, extinguished. Then the beast sat there, looking back at Andy, deeply satisfied but still expectant.
He'd done his job as bait, evidently, and now his beast wanted to share their kill.
It was badly burned, particularly around the face, but as he watched the fur regrew and the clouded eye cleared. The singed ear reformed as well, and the beast yawned with fangs to shame a vampire.
The giant bird was extinguished, wings fallen and talons relaxed. Andy approached it slowly, then sprang onto its chest. When it remained still, he took two steps forward and gripped the top of its skull as the beast began to tear chunks from its corpse. He felt the body age and fail, even as the beast assembled its pile of meat and set to devouring it.
When Andy woke again, they were somewhere else, and Veronica had pulled them into some kind of garage. They must have switched drivers while he was asleep. Steve had opened up the side door as the garage door came down, and Andy came awake to find himself holding a single, orange-gold feather.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Feel free to leave comments; it lets me know that people are actually reading my blog. Interesting tangents and topic drift just add flavor. Linking to your own stuff is fine, as long as it's at least loosely relevant. Be civil, and have fun!