Kingdom of Monsters by John Schneider (latest novels to read .TXT) 📕

Garner started to move towards him, but Cameron put a restraining hand on his shoulder.  Garner rounded on him.  Cameron pulled back his hand with a shrug.

“You know he's just going to hit you again,” he said.

Garner's hand dropped to his sidearm.

“What if I shoot him first?” he said.

“Well, then I'll hit you,” Mr. Wilson said, standing up and planting a stiff right fist square in Garner's jaw, knocking him flat on his back.

Without waiting, Allison grabbed a log off the fire, and with the smooth stroke of a softball batter, she turned and struck Wilkes dead in the groin.

Wilkes' eyes went wide, as he doubled over, blurting a glut of involuntary profanity.  He stumbled back and dropped to his knees.

As he gasped breath, he glared at Allison, eyes streaming.

“What the hell you do that for?  I was just standing here.”

Garner let out a low moan and Cameron reached down a hand.

“Don't feel bad,” he said, as he helped the soldier to his feet.  “I've seen him do that to full-grown Holsteins back on the farm.  It's actually impressive you didn't go out.”

Maverick gathered a small pack from the chopper – rope, a few tools.  He also dangled the service pistol he'd snatched off the co-pilot before he'd pitched him over the cliff, nodding at both soldiers, but most meaningfully at Garner.

“Either of you got a problem with me having this?”

Garner glanced at Wilkes, who was still on his knees, and then Mr. Wilson, who appeared to be polishing his knuckles.  Resigned, Garner shook his head.

“Okay then,” Maverick said, “then why don't we get everybody set up?”

Garner sighed.  He grabbed up his rifle, and tossed the strap over his shoulder, but pulled his service pistol and handed it to Bud – who promptly turned and gave it to Allison.

Allison popped the clip into place with a cold snap.

Wilkes handed his pistol to Cameron, while shouldering his own rifle.

Maverick looked up, squinting in the sun, eyeballing the sheer rock wall.

“You know,” he said, stepping back, “now that I look at it, this just seems foolish.”  He turned, tossing the rope over his shoulder to Garner.  “Here.  Which one of you wants to be a hero?”

Garner caught the rope with a frown.  But he dutifully stepped forward, putting his hand on the rock, feeling for handholds.

The volcanic rock was layered, so while the climb was nearly vertical, there were grooves to latch onto.  Unfortunately, there was also no way of telling what was solid rock versus what was ready to tumble loose.  The ropes of root were likewise compromised.

With the sheer drop, simply pushing back from the wall would be to fall – maybe back to the rock ledge, or possibly into the chasm beyond.

Garner began to scale the cliff, feeling one hold at a time.  After he'd gained ten feet, Maverick stepped up and began to follow behind him.

“I thought you weren't coming,” Garner called down.

“No, I was just smart-assing,” Maverick replied.  “But I thought I'd let you go first.”

Wilkes looked unhappily up at the cliff, but nevertheless followed along behind Maverick.

Cameron knelt beside Shanna, just touching her hand, as if all that need be said was in their physical touch.

“We'll be back,” he promised.

Shanna smiled.  “I know you will,” she said, with no doubt.

Cameron looked up at Rosa.

“You're a doctor.  You'll take care of her, right?”

Rosa nodded.  “That's what I do,” she said.

Cameron turned steadfastly, deliberately not looking up, and began to climb after the others.

Already nearly thirty-feet above, Maverick kicked loose a small cascade of rocks.  Cameron covered up as the shards bounced off his head and shoulders.

“Owwww!  Dammit!”

“Sorry,” Maverick hollered.

Mr. Wilson shook his head apologetically.  “That's his mother's son.”

The climbers proceeded slowly; Rosa estimated that Garner was about fifty feet when a large pterosaur swooped in – one of the nastier-looking beasties, with claws and teeth.

It went for Garner, with his rifle strapped on his back, helpless to defend himself.  Immediately below, Maverick tried to reach the pistol in his belt without letting go his hold on the rock.

Then a single shot rang out as Allison dropped the bird from the ledge beneath.  The pterosaur crumpled, wings folded, as it bounced off the cliff into the ravine.

Maverick's voice bugled down.

“Thaaank you!”

And with the smoking pistol still in her hand, and Lucas bundled in her other arm, Allison started crying.

Almost immediately, little Lucas joined her, whether from the gunshot or by his mother's own tears.  Allison turned to Bud, almost burning him with the pistol barrel as she wept in his arms.

Rosa put a tentative hand on Allison's shoulder.  Allison could be a bit of a touch-freak when she got emotional, but this time she clasped Rosa's hand, squeezing out any comfort she could.  After a moment, she sat up, making an attempt to dry her eyes.

She looked down at the infant in her arms, whose own sobs had subsided to concerned sniffles, as he looked up at the goddess who was his mother.

“What kind of a life is this?” Allison said.  “I mean, what's the point?  The world's over, isn't it?”

She looked around helplessly at the others, but none of them had a ready answer.

But Shanna shook her head.

“The world has only ended for you,” she said.  “He doesn't know it unless you tell him.  For him, everything just started.”

Shanna waved her hand out at the prehistoric new world.

“This was my childhood,” she said.

Rosa shook her head.  “What does that mean?   Who are you?”

Shanna sighed.  “Well, I guess you could say I'm the daughter of the apocalypse.”  She looked thoughtful.  “It's ironic.  All my life, I wanted to see the real world.  But this was always my life.  And now it's all there is.”

For the first time since Rosa had met her, Shanna's face bent into a genuine frown, a dark expression that somehow looked hurtful on her features.

“I grew up alone except for my father.  And the animals.  That was all I had.  I mean, I could see the outside world, I