he lost hold of the handle, he was dead for sure.
His arms felt like they were about to come out of their sockets as the beast shook him to and fro, and his head snapped back and forth, and he realized he couldn’t outlast the rabid creature. Just as his grip began to loosen, there was a loud thwack from behind the beast, and it instantly let go of Ian and the axe handle. He fell to the ground and rolled away from the mangy cur but managed to glimpse Carl holding the top of a small desk in his hands just before he brought it down again on the beast’s rear.
Quick as a flash the beast whirled and dove at Carl, who barely managed to get the wood up to cover his face in time. The monster pinned Carl to the floor while the poor boy desperately tried to hold the desktop up to protect himself. The giant creature bit at the wood, trying to gobble up the young lad underneath.
For a moment Ian watched in stunned horror, but he quickly realized that his new friend was moments away from a dreadful end. Gripping the axe handle tightly and springing to his feet, he charged the beast with a mighty battle cry. Funneling all his anger and fear into his attack, he struck the beast on the head hard enough to rattle his own bones. He then ducked down and spun around, using all his momentum to hit the beast’s rear legs, his handle connecting with a mighty whack.
“Off him!” Ian roared, and spun yet again for another hard blow. “Get off him, you insufferable cur!”
A yelp and a snarl followed and again Ian was sent sailing through the air. His shoulder struck the stone wall with a nasty crunch that sent a sharp bolt of lightning straight up his spine. The axe handle clanked to the floor beside him, and he was helpless to pick it up. He looked up to see the beast charging toward him, lethal fury in its ugly red eyes.
Ian put his good arm up to shield his face—he couldn’t bear to look at the thing as it devoured him whole—but suddenly the room reverberated with the sound of an explosion, then another in rapid succession. There was a horrible squeal so loud and so high-pitched that it cracked one of the glass panes, and just as Ian lowered his arm, he caught sight of the beast flying through the air above him and crashing through the window.
He was showered with glass, and he winced as a few pieces nicked his head and face before he had the chance to duck his chin. In the next moment someone was crouching by his side, whispering his name. “Ian? Are you all right, lad?” Ian looked up to see Thatcher hovering above him, a hunting rifle in his hand, and the smell of gunpowder filled the room even more heavily than the foul scent of the beast.
“Yes, sir,” he said gratefully. “And I’m awfully glad to see you.”
“How’s the boy?” asked the earl as he stepped to where Ian sat against the wall.
“Seems all right,” said Thatcher, standing up to have a look out the broken window. “What the …?” he said, leaning his head far out the broken pane to peer at the ground below.
The earl edged closer to the window. “What is it?” he asked.
“It’s gone,” said Thatcher, pulling his head back through to stare in disbelief at the faces in the room. “The beast is gone! By God, what devil’s work is this?”
“How could it be gone?” the earl said as he also leaned his head out the window. “Impossible!” he exclaimed.
“But we hit him square!” insisted Thatcher. “I know it! And that’s a three-story drop! No earthly creature could survive that!” But as Ian stared numbly up at their astonished faces, he knew better. That beast had been as unnatural a thing as ever he’d imagined, and he wasn’t surprised that it had survived to run away.
“And yet,” said Perry, crouching low in the center of the room, “our beast bleeds.” The earl and Thatcher turned to him. “See that?” he asked, pointing to a spot near his feet where a big splotch of dark liquid glistened in the moonlight. “That’s the beast’s blood.”
“If it bleeds, we can kill it,” said the earl gravely. “Come, gentlemen. Let’s check to make sure everyone is accounted for and safe, and then we’ll track that