She Returns from War - By Lee Collins Page 0,50

room. It fell short of the hunter by a few feet. Cursing, Cora made a grab for it.

The ghoul seized the opportunity and lunged. It crashed into Cora, knocking her backward into the wall. Hunter and monster grappled on the floor, Cora's hands clamped around her enemy's throat. She pushed against it with all her might, barely able to keep the hungry jaws from her own neck. More curses burst from her lips.

Victoria stood still, transfixed by the mortal struggle. After all of the legends and stories she'd heard of Cora Oglesby, seeing her fight was remarkably underwhelming. She had expected the old hunter to dominate her foes with ease and finesse, making killing monsters appear no harder than taking tea after a game of lawn darts. Watching her now, she seemed no more than a common barroom brawler wrestling another drunkard over some slight.

Cora managed to land a punch to the creature's jaw with the fist holding the rosary. Smoke exploded outward in a ring. The creature hissed in pain, but it kept its hold on the hunter. Cora struck it again, keeping the rosary pressed into its smoking flesh. The hiss became a wail. Writhing in agony, the vampire twisted away from her.

Rolling into a crouching position, Cora's eyes darted around the floor. "Where'd it go?"

"Where did what go?" Victoria asked.

Spying the gun a few feet behind her, Cora dove for it.

Victoria saw the monster pull itself to its feet. "Watch out!" she cried as the creature lunged at Cora. The hunter spun around, dropping onto her back as she did so. Reaching out with her free hand, Cora grabbed the ghoul by the wrist and yanked. It sailed over her as she rolled beneath it. When it reached the apex of the throw, a flash erupted from the hunter's other hand. Thunder shook the windows. The creature crashed into the far wall and crumpled to the floor.

Cora didn't spare it a glance. She pulled herself onto her hands and knees and crawled toward the large bed in the corner. Thrusting her arm into the darkness beneath it, she began groping for something. Perplexed, Victoria watched her search until she heard the monster stirring. Her gaze snapped to the place where it fell, and her body went rigid.

The dead eye was fixed on her.

With a croaking moan, the monster began crawling toward her. Speechless with terror, Victoria backed into the hallway, bumping up against the far wall. The creature's teeth gnashed together. Victoria's breathing quickened as it approached, inch by inch, hand over pale hand. Her eyes were small islands of blue in a sea of white. Desperate, she drew the broad-bladed knife with a shaking hand. It was probably useless against this living corpse, but she wouldn't let it kill her without a fight. She braced herself, knife hand drawn back, for the final struggle.

Cora appeared in the doorway behind the monster. Her boot came down on its ankle with a dry snap. Pinned, it curled around like an injured worm, arms reaching for the hunter's leg. Metal gleamed as Cora swung a curved sword. The creature recoiled from the blow, hands clutching at the fresh gash in its ruined face.

The hunter stepped up next to the wretched creature, driving the toe of her boot into its ribcage. It hissed like a broken steam pipe, its eye nearly bursting out of its head as it glared at her. Grasping the hilt with both hands, Cora drove the sword through the monster's head.

In the silence that followed, Victoria realized how loudly she was breathing and forced herself to calm down. Fingers trembling, she slid the knife back into her belt.

"You okay?" Cora asked.

Victoria's throat was dry, but she managed a nod.

"Good," Cora said. She placed a boot on the corpse's neck. The sword slid out of the skull with a slick wet sound. Still holding the saber, Cora turned and went back into the bedroom. A few seconds later, a revolver slid through the doorway. Victoria stepped around the body, careful not to touch the splayed limbs, and picked it up. For the first time, the gun's weight on her belt comforted her.

Cora popped up from behind the fallen dresser. "I ain't sure whether I should thank you or crack you over the head." She stepped around the dresser, and Victoria's arms came up defensively.

"I'd prefer the former," Victoria said.

"I reckon you might," Cora said, "and I reckon I'd have been in a tight spot if you hadn't

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