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branch until we saw the creature's gruesome prize. Harlan Gorman's long, now featureless body was draped like a giant gunnysack over the limb. At least I thought it was Harlan. A body without a head is not the easiest thing to identify. |
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Cosmo always said that you can tell a great deal about a man's passions by the manner in which he fires his weapon. Jake was only the first. In his case it wasn't self-defense. Self-defense had nothing to do with it. It was classic outrage. He jerked the ponderous .38 out of its holster and fired twice, two cannon shots that ruptured the silence. He fired again . . . and again. Each of the chunks of lead seered into the creature with a sickening thud. Its huge disfigured hand moved clumsily to the point of impact as the monster stared back at us in bewilderment. |
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Suddenly the eerie setting was a battlefield; the volley that followed was violent and instantaneous. The gray, saturated, choking air was momentarily violated by brilliant flashes of yellow and orange. The terrifying sound of gunshots thundered out all around. |
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The thing screamed and pitched forward, plummeting to the earth no more than 15 feet in front of me. For one fleeting moment my eyes locked on those dull, yellow slits of life and then they closed. There was a |
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