The Breaking - By Marcus Pelegrimas Page 0,143

the Half Breed’s eye. It howled in pain and slumped straight down to spit its last breath into the dirt.

The Half Breed that Cole had impaled was losing steam, but not its will to fight. Even after being forced onto its side, it continued to scrape at the ground. Removing the spear with a straight pull, Cole flipped it around and dropped the forked end to trap the creature’s head. His palms were slick with blood and the thorns burrowed into him as he willed the inside of the fork to sharpen into blades. The spear shifted into a tool that nearly decapitated the creature with a few downward thrusts.

Holding the last Half Breed at arm’s length, Rico placed the barrel of the Sig Sauer against its temple and pulled the trigger. After three muffled shots the werewolf dropped for good. “God damn those new ones are tough,” he said while reloading the handgun.

“This one’s wearing a uniform,” Cole said. After looking at the other two, he added, “What the hell’s going on here?”

“Probably one of the IRD soldiers. The rest might have been bitten or came here to follow the Full Bloods.”

Judging by the way Jessup, several soldiers, and many more Half Breeds converged at the truck Rico had pointed out earlier, the escaped prisoners inside were probably dreading the day they’d left their cells. Cole took a deep breath and started running. The uphill climb had been steep, but the terrain sloped much more gradually on the other side. Dry scrub and exposed rocks covered what looked to be a wide basin surrounded by some trees and a tall fence on the far side. It was next to impossible to judge any distances since every one of his senses were overloaded with the chatter and smoke from automatic gunfire, the stench of burning fuel, and the overwhelming presence of the unnatural. That last part may have come from what some might call a sixth sense. Cole couldn’t see it or taste it, but was overcome by the uneasiness of having the real world turned upside down.

Half Breeds ran wild across the desert.

Gargoyles swarmed the sky, dropping onto the wildest prey they could find.

Cole had to hurdle dead bodies while swinging his spear to deflect incoming claws or swat a snarling face before it ripped his throat out. When his foot touched down again, it became wedged under something heavy enough to break his momentum and drop him onto his face. His ears rang when he hit the ground in a crumpled heap.

The Sig Sauer went off several times at close range, followed by the grinding rattle of assault rifles. “Get up,” Rico said. “We’re almost there.”

“I think I broke my ankle.”

The big man dropped to one knee and unceremoniously twisted the foot in question.

“Holy shit!” Cole gasped.

“It’s not broken.”

“What are you talking about? That hurt like hell!”

“If it was broken, you’d be passed out right now,” Rico explained.

“And if I would have passed out, then what?”

“I would’ve left. You wouldn’t do anyone any good with a broken ankle. Carrying you would just get me killed too. The serum in your bloodstream will kick in and I’ll get an injection for you ASAP. Until then you’re just gonna have to rock through this shit.”

Cole drove his spear into the ground so he could use it to prop himself up. “Rock through this shit? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ll get up and keep movin’ or I’ll crack you over the head with this rock.”

When Cole looked up, he saw that Rico indeed had a rock in his hand. Suddenly, he seemed more like the ugly asshole who’d fought and bled alongside of him in Philadelphia and Denver. He tried pulling himself up but his foot was trapped under something. Whatever had ensnared it was solid and unmoving. At first it looked like a thick, dirty root emerging from the ground. The more he tried to pull it loose, the more certain he became that it wasn’t going to budge. It only took one touch for him to realize what it was.

“This is stone,” Cole said. Grabbing hold of it, he added, “I think it’s an arm.”

Rico was already helping him up, so he placed the toe of his boot on the gray protrusion from the ground and pushed against it. “It’s really in there. Looks like a gargoyle got to it, but they usually stay aboveground. Of course, I ain’t seen a flock of them this big before.”

“You’ve

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