Ex-Communication by Peter Clines (love story books to read .txt) 📕

Stealth’s leg. She stomped down on the dead man’s hand, pinning it to the roof, and then shattered the wrist with a swipe of her pistol. A snap kick sent the ex stumbling back into the swarm. She looked back up and bullets tore through the air, pinging off Cairax’s horns and teeth.

St. George grabbed a Mini Cooper and heaved it into the air, but the door ripped off the frame and the car tumbled out of his hands. It crashed to the ground on its side and sprayed glass across the street. He shook his head and lunged at Cairax again. He drove his knuckles into the demon’s chin hard enough to shatter the bones of a normal man. His next punch could’ve crushed cinder blocks. He locked his fists together and brought them down with enough force to dent steel.

Cairax dropped to one knee. Its tail twitched and trembled. St. George stood in front of the demon—still taller on its knees than the hero—and grabbed one of the horns growing from its skull. He slammed his fist into the monstrous face again and again. Then he seized another horn and launched himself upward.

St. George dragged Cairax into the sky. The demon’s long limbs flailed at the air for a moment and then it laughed. The sound almost made St. George lose his concentration, and they dipped for a moment.

Cairax reached up and clawed at the hero’s chest. The talons gouged his flesh and set his nerves on fire. He gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the wetness spreading across his body. He went another thirty feet into the air, spun the demon around, and hurled the creature at the ground. Cairax plummeted down and the pavement cracked under the impact.

Zzzap flew up to hover by his friend. He nodded at the slashes on St. George’s chest. You okay?

“I’ll live,” he said. “How about you? You look a little pale.”

That thing can take some serious punishment. I’ve burned up half my reserves.

“Are you going to be okay?”

I’ll be fine, but I don’t think I can do anything else big if we’re going to pull this off.

“Pull what off?”

Just get him pinned. This is going to be so awesome if he doesn’t kill us all. Whoops.

Zzzap pointed his hands down and blasted Cairax Murrain as it leaped up at them. The demon pushed through the blast, like a shark forcing its way through a wave, but the heroes had flown higher into the sky. Its claws swiped at the air below them and it plummeted back to the ground.

The demon landed hard, crushing a trio of exes beneath its hooves. It roared up at the two heroes, crouched to leap again, and white fire exploded in its eyes. Cairax howled and stumbled back.

Stealth braced her leg and fired Lady Liberty again. The pistol was huge in her hands, a cut-down combat shotgun with nowhere to hold on. She had one hand on the grip and the other in front of the drum magazine to steady it. The trigger stayed down and Lady Liberty bellowed her magazine at the demon. The shells burst into white flame against the dark flesh of Cairax’s face and chest, like flares in the darkness. The demon threw his claws up and staggered back.

St. George dropped out of the sky and drove his heels into Cairax’s skull. He wrapped one arm around the thick neck and hooked the other under the beast’s shoulder. He couldn’t reach far enough for a half nelson, but he grabbed one of the demon’s long spines and held tight.

The huge pistol ran dry and Stealth let it drop. She spun to her left and held out her hand. Her fingers went wide to catch their target and signaled to Madelyn to—

Madelyn was nowhere to be seen.

CAPTAIN FREEDOM STRUGGLED to his feet. He remembered riding in the back of a cargo truck in Afghanistan where the crates slid and shifted under his feet. Standing in the crater was like that, except the crates kept reaching up to drag him back down.

He was in a lot of pain. If his ribs hadn’t been broken before, they were now. He’d heard people say pain felt like needles or blades, but anyone who’d felt real pain knew it was a screw. It kept twisting deeper every time you thought it was done. His side was filled with white-hot screws.

Where the tail had skewered him, he felt his pulse and wetness on the inside of his jacket. Half of his torso had a faint chill that reached into his arm and was working its way up his neck. Even with his basic first-aid training he knew it wasn’t a good combination of feelings.

The floor of the crater shifted again. A dead hand reached up to grab at his knee. He bit his lip, drove his heel down, and heard bones crunch beneath him. He kicked at a few exes grabbing at his legs. A dead woman with a patch of bare skull tried to gnaw on his boot and knocked out its own rotted teeth. A mangled, genderless thing caught its fingers in Lady Liberty’s empty holster and made Freedom stumble for a moment.

Half the exes in the crater had made it to their feet. He slammed his fist into one, then brought his arm around to batter away another. It flew back, taking two other exes down with it, and Freedom felt the burning screws in his ribs sink a little deeper. He gritted his teeth.

The pause gave a dead woman with matted hair the chance to grab his arm. He could feel the teeth through his combat uniform, but the material held. A quick shake knocked the ex off. A pair of arms wrapped around his leg, and he let his fist swing down like a hammer.

Even as that ex dropped, another one grabbed him by the waist. Its withered arms squeezed tight enough to set off the fire