72 Hours to Animal (eBook, ePUB)
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Before the Flashback ended in The War-torn Hills of Earth, there were other trials, other crucibles, other adventures not previously recorded. 72 Hours to Animal is one of these, in which a helicopter bearing a hodge-podge crew touches down on a Saveco wholesale warehouse in the middle of a snowstorm only to find themselves stalked by shadowy predators ...From 72 Hours to Animal:Zola aimed her flashlight, revealing a toppled fixture and designer frames scattered all over the floor, then whipped it left toward the photo center."There's a man door leading outside down there ... do you think she ...
Before the Flashback ended in The War-torn Hills of Earth, there were other trials, other crucibles, other adventures not previously recorded. 72 Hours to Animal is one of these, in which a helicopter bearing a hodge-podge crew touches down on a Saveco wholesale warehouse in the middle of a snowstorm only to find themselves stalked by shadowy predators ...
From 72 Hours to Animal:
Zola aimed her flashlight, revealing a toppled fixture and designer frames scattered all over the floor, then whipped it left toward the photo center.
"There's a man door leading outside down there ... do you think she might have"
"Shhh," urged Redhorn. "Listen. Do hear that?"
She listened, hearing nothing at first but then a slight shuffling, a shifting, a disturbance in the air like a whisper of clothing or something breathing. "Something is running up that aisle," she said, her heart beginning to pump faster. She indicated the row of flatscreens parallel to them. "Something small, agile, fleet footed."
Redhorn trained his revolver on the endcap, showcasing it in a pool of light. "Something that's going to be dead in about three seconds ..."
"No, wait, it could be"
But nothing presented itself. Nothing happened at all other than sweat beading along her brow and her heart trying to punch through her chest.
"Honey?" prompted Zola. "Is that you?"
Silence.
"Stay here," said Redhorn.
"Wait ..."
But he was already moving, creeping toward the endcap, nearing the parallel aisle, approaching whoever or whatever was there when Zola heard from the direction of the photo centerso softly she might have imagined it: "Where are you, Mommy?"
At which she turned back to Redhorn in time to see him vanishing around the corner and promptly shouted, "Red, it's not the girl!" which was followed by more shifting and shuffling and, dear god, what sounded like snarling, until she raised the .25 and fired in the air and the warehouse echoed thunderously and finally fell silent.
"Red?" she prompted at last, finding it odd that Pappy had not called out or responded in any way, "Are you okay? Hey ..."
But now she did hear something, something moist, terriblelike someone choking to death. Like someone gasping for breath as she rushed around the corner and found Redhorn laying in a pool of bloodjust lying there holding his throat even as the dark, red liquid bubbled between his fingers and she crouched to help and the blood spread around her knees like spilled motor oil. As he tried to speak but only gurgled up more gore and his eyes locked on something behind her and she whipped around to see a pale, reptilian face vanish around the corner, just vanish like a ghost ...
From 72 Hours to Animal:
Zola aimed her flashlight, revealing a toppled fixture and designer frames scattered all over the floor, then whipped it left toward the photo center.
"There's a man door leading outside down there ... do you think she might have"
"Shhh," urged Redhorn. "Listen. Do hear that?"
She listened, hearing nothing at first but then a slight shuffling, a shifting, a disturbance in the air like a whisper of clothing or something breathing. "Something is running up that aisle," she said, her heart beginning to pump faster. She indicated the row of flatscreens parallel to them. "Something small, agile, fleet footed."
Redhorn trained his revolver on the endcap, showcasing it in a pool of light. "Something that's going to be dead in about three seconds ..."
"No, wait, it could be"
But nothing presented itself. Nothing happened at all other than sweat beading along her brow and her heart trying to punch through her chest.
"Honey?" prompted Zola. "Is that you?"
Silence.
"Stay here," said Redhorn.
"Wait ..."
But he was already moving, creeping toward the endcap, nearing the parallel aisle, approaching whoever or whatever was there when Zola heard from the direction of the photo centerso softly she might have imagined it: "Where are you, Mommy?"
At which she turned back to Redhorn in time to see him vanishing around the corner and promptly shouted, "Red, it's not the girl!" which was followed by more shifting and shuffling and, dear god, what sounded like snarling, until she raised the .25 and fired in the air and the warehouse echoed thunderously and finally fell silent.
"Red?" she prompted at last, finding it odd that Pappy had not called out or responded in any way, "Are you okay? Hey ..."
But now she did hear something, something moist, terriblelike someone choking to death. Like someone gasping for breath as she rushed around the corner and found Redhorn laying in a pool of bloodjust lying there holding his throat even as the dark, red liquid bubbled between his fingers and she crouched to help and the blood spread around her knees like spilled motor oil. As he tried to speak but only gurgled up more gore and his eyes locked on something behind her and she whipped around to see a pale, reptilian face vanish around the corner, just vanish like a ghost ...
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