Laws of Nature -2 by Christopher Golden (i can read books txt) 📕

"Damn it," he cursed, voice so low the warm breeze seemed to steal it away.

Jack let out a frustrated sigh and turned to peer into the forest ahead of them.

The monster stood between two trees, almost as though it had been there all along and he had only now noticed it. It was the large Prowler with reddish fur who had carried the girl over his shoulder. The one who had scented them, marked them with a glare.

"Don't lose faith now," the monster said. "You've almost got us."

Without even raising the weapon, Jack fired the shotgun. The Prowler bolted to one side behind a thick maple and the blast peppered the tree bark. The creature darted around in the woods just out of the edges of their vision. It was fast, despite its size.

It was playing with them.

"You two are just determined to get killed, aren't you?" the monster asked, voice guttural and cold.

Jack shivered. He pumped another round into the shotgun's chamber and backed two steps toward Molly. A quick glance at her was all the communication they needed. She turned her back to him and they began to make their way forward, back to back, watching every tree, every pocket of blackness left unilluminated by the moon.

"Just give us the girl and we'll leave you alone," Jack said aloud, relieved to find that his voice did not reveal his fear.

The Prowler laughed. It was a sickening sound, like bones snapping. "Truly amazing. Who do you think you are?"

"We're the ones with the shotguns."

Molly bumped against him slightly. "We're the ones who killed Owen Tanzer."

Silence in the trees. Jack smiled to himself. Way to go, Molly. That had unnerved the monster, he was sure of it.

"We'll just be going, now," Jack said. "Up, I mean. There's a girl up there we're going to take away from you."

"You can't go up there," said a voice from the trees. "It's sacred ground." Jack tried to get a fix on him, but the voice seemed to roll across the ground like mist.

"Sacred?" Molly asked. "What do Prowlers hold sacred?"

"Sanctuary," it replied. "This place has been a haven for all our kind for ages. Once before we were driven out, and now your kind threaten its purity again. You steal our past, our legacy."

"We stole nothing," Jack said grimly, tensed and expecting the monster to attack at any second. "Just give us the girl."

"Stole . . ." Molly muttered. "Jack, he means the book."

The red-furred beast snarled. "What do you know of the book?"

Something swept between two trees ahead of him, and Jack's finger twitched on the trigger, but he did not fire. No waste. Not now. Not when their lives could depend on it.

"Jack!" Molly cried.

With a sudden rush of fur and gleaming teeth, a pair of Prowlers hurtled at them from either side. Jack swung the shotgun toward the monster lunging in from his left. The trigger was tight, and when he pulled it the kick of the shotgun drove him back a step and he stumbled, nearly fell. It was little more than sheer luck that the blast tore a chunk out of the creature's chest, spattering fur and blood and flesh on a fat tree trunk.

Two echoes resounded through the trees, and he knew that Molly had fired as well. Jack pumped another round into the chamber and spun to see that the second Prowler was slumped against a tree as though he were drunk. He swayed there, holding on to a branch, and his head rolling on his thick shoulders, eyes turning toward them.

One eye, at least. The other, along with part of his face, had been erased by the shotgun blast. He stumbled away from them, and Jack and Molly were both in such shock at its appearance that neither of them even attempted to shoot it again. Instead, they stood back to back, shotgun barrels scything the darkness as they searched for some sign of the one with red fur.

It was gone.

"We should be dead," Jack whispered.

"Speak for yourself," Molly replied breathlessly.

But Jack knew that was just talk, that she understood as well as he did that if Red had stayed to back up the other two, they would be just two more ghosts in these mountains. Twice in a handful of seconds Jack had gotten lucky with his life on the line. He took a long breath, realizing that he could not count on any more luck tonight, that he might well have used up his entire share for the year.

Things whispered in the trees, maybe bats or owls or other night birds. Maybe chipmunks, skittering off at the sound of the weapons thundering. Maybe just the wind.

Every sound, every tiny noise made Jack twitch. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. His eyes darted toward Molly every second or two, and he wondered if she felt the same way he did, if she could read his mind.

Stupid. It was stupid to come up here. They had no place here, a couple of city kids trying to play hero, save a girl's life. They should have let it go.

Then he snarled silently and cursed himself for even allowing the thought into his head. No way could they have turned around and gone home after they had heard that girl screaming.

The barrel of the shotgun wavered in front of him as he turned around, nervous that the huge, red-furred beast who had spoken to them might appear again at any moment.

"Let's go," he told Molly, no longer whispering. No longer worrying about the attention they would draw. The shotgun blasts would have pinpointed their location for anyone who cared to listen.

Ignoring the things that seemed to flit about at the edges of his peripheral vision, Jack pushed his way uphill through the trees. Uphill. That was the way the Prowlers did not want them to go. Of course