The Fold: A Novel Part 42

The figure pointed at him and let out a hard, stuttering breath, the sound of wet lungs. The death rattle of something angry, fighting with its last breath. The black ants presented a set of sound clips for comparison, the most prominent one from the movie Predator.

How was it pointing at him if both its hands were holding the spear?

The figure swung its free arm, there was a sound of a baseball bat hitting meat, and Jamie went flying. The movement shifted its hood back, and the loop of ragged fabric slid down onto its shoulders.

Mike, instincts honed by too many cafeteria fights and hallway brawls, started forward as soon as he saw the arm swing at Jamie.

As the creature's hood dropped, the ants swarmed out with pictures and images in a desperate attempt to find some condition or deformity to explain the figure's face. The closest was a collection of deep-sea fish with gla.s.slike tusks and dead eyes. And even those weren't that close.

It had three eyes. The largest one didn't seem to have any lid. It just bulged on one side of the face. The other two, stacked one above the other, were small and dark, like spider eyes. Its nose was a pair of slits in the clay-colored skin.

Arthur made a sound that echoed over the G.o.dmike. Sasha shrieked out a "f.u.c.k." Anne stood frozen, staring at the creature. Olaf froze, too, and it lashed out at him with the spear. The shaft caught the physicist across the face with a crack, and sent him stumbling away.

The creature saw Mike coming and hissed out a series of clicks, like bubbles popping from the mouth of a drowning man. Its legs shifted beneath the cloak and its feet clacked on the floor. It spread its arms wide, and the two hands on the right flexed. They had fingernails like claws.

He looked at the extra arm and froze.

The creature lunged at him.

Sasha swung one of the chairs around in a wide arc. Anne screamed. The metal casters smashed into the creature's skull and sent it staggering back. The spear clattered to the ground. The impact jarred the chair out of Sasha's hands and it crashed to the floor.

The creature rolled over on its stomach. Two of its arms pushed at the floor, its legs shifted beneath the cloak, and its spine folded back like a circus contortionist, lifting its head up high. It took three scuttling steps toward Sasha on all fours before it straightened up onto two legs again. Anne was still as a statue, her eyes locked on the monster.

"Hey," shouted Mike. He waved his arms. "Over here!"

Its swollen eye glanced at him. The other two stayed on Sasha. It growled again, and the sound built into a roar that echoed across the main floor.

It went after Sasha.

Mike charged.

The creature slashed at Sasha with one hand. She jumped back and threw her arm up. Four slashes of red appeared on her arm. The tall thing followed up with a backhand across her jaw that sent her sprawling.

Then Mike slammed into it. The impact was like tackling a scarecrow made of two-by-fours. The creature staggered, tripped, and fell. Mike's face was pressed into the cloak. It smelled like dust and leather and sweat.

The creature swiveled its head around and glared at him. Its teeth gnashed together. An elbow slammed back into his ribs, and then another one. The cloak twisted and thrashed beneath him. Mike pushed himself up and threw a punch as the creature turned. His fist struck the garden of teeth and the points tore at the skin on his knuckles.

One of its arms twisted back-how did it bend like that-and grabbed his wrist. The creature wrenched itself around so it could look him in the face. This close he could smell its meat-breath and see the glistening of its eyes and the tiny scales that made up its skin.

He tried to throw a punch with his free hand, but the creature grabbed it, too. Its fingernails bit into his skin. The third hand-it had three arms!-lashed up and grabbed him around the back of the head. The spidery fingers twisted themselves into his hair. Its teeth spread, its bear-trap jaws opened wide, and it pulled him down. Mike's pulse made another leap, blood trickled on his wrists, and Jamie smashed a fire extinguisher down on the creature's elbow.

She heaved the canister up and brought it down again. Something cracked in the arm. The creature howled.

It hurled Mike aside, and he slammed into the legs of a workstation. The creature folded itself onto four limbs again, the extra arm hanging limp on its high shoulder. It snarled at Jamie.

She swung the extinguisher back for another blow, and Anne's paralysis finally broke. The receptionist grabbed Jamie's arm and spit out some panicked, incoherent syllables. The drowning swimmer taking the lifeguard down with her.

The creature glared at the two women for a moment, then stalked forward on all fours. Jamie managed to shake Anne off. She swung the fire extinguisher around in a wide arc.

The monster reared back and up. The red cylinder swept past it and momentum made Jamie stagger forward. The extinguisher twisted in her hands and she fumbled. It slipped from her fingers and left her and Anne unarmed in front of the creature.

Its head swung between them and one of its arms lashed out. It punched Anne square in the chest, its knuckles landing right on her breastbone, and she flew back. The creature watched her crash to the floor, then reached for Jamie.

A socket wrench smacked into its shoulder blade and hit the floor with a clank. The creature turned, and Mike smacked it across the face with the flatscreen. The LCD cracked, but so did a few teeth. Plastic and enamel rained on the floor.

Anne screamed again.

Mike swung the screen back, but the creature had an arm up. It batted the weapon from his hands, and one of its feet lashed out to hit him in the gut. He'd never been hit so hard in his life. He felt the jagged toenails rip at his flesh as the impact knocked him back. He hit the ground and grabbed at his stomach. It was hot and wet. Gut injuries were supposed to be a horrible way to die.

The creature roared again, its clicks bouncing off the walls.

Another roar drowned out the creature. And another. And another. It twisted with the second gunshot, shrieked at the third.

Arthur limped forward with the pistol held firmly in both hands. It was black with a barrel that was squared off instead of round. He squeezed the trigger again and again. One round pa.s.sed through the creature's cloak to spark against the steel ramp. Another made it jerk. It raced toward him, covering the distance with terrifying speed, and he shot and shot and shot.

It lunged at Arthur and he flinched away, but there was no strength left in it. A feeble swing of its claws missed him and it crashed to the floor. He fired another shot, one-handed and half-looking, but it would've been hard to miss at this range. The cloak twitched and the slide of the pistol slammed back and locked.

The creature let out a low, bubbling moan that trailed off into a wheeze. It settled against the floor. Its outstretched hands relaxed.

Arthur looked at the figure for a moment. He looked at the pistol. Then he took two uneven steps to the left and threw up.

FORTY-THREE.

Mike twisted his head around to find Jamie. She was curled in a ball near the ramp, arms wrapped over her head. Anne was shrieking and crying and rocking back and forth on the floor, but didn't seem to be injured. Olaf sat near the base of the Door, cautiously touching the side of his head. Sasha was sprawled by the far wall.

Mike's fingers probed his stomach. He had some cuts with a lot of blood, but they didn't seem to be serious. He crawled to his feet, and a few drops of blood pattered to the floor. His fingers pressed a little harder, and he counted to five. His gut ached, but everything was staying in place.

Arthur threw up again. This time was more of a retch. A thin line of drool stretched down from his lip. He staggered over to grab his cane where he'd dropped it.

Jamie lifted her head and glanced around. Her eyes fell on the cloaked body. "Is it dead?"

Mike staggered over to her, one arm wrapped around his stomach. "I hope so."

"You're bleeding."

"I think Sasha's bleeding a lot more. Arthur!" He waved the other man to her.

Jamie wrapped an arm around Mike and helped him toward Sasha. They stepped around the fallen chair, keeping the creature in their line of sight. It didn't move. He saw a reflection on the floor next to it that looked like blood.

Anne's shrieks faded into a m.u.f.fled sobbing. She stared at the dead thing on the floor and trembled. Her eyes were glazed. She muttered a few random sounds and seemed to think they were words.

Jamie and Mike reached Sasha just as Arthur did. Jamie gave Mike a squeeze and released him, making sure he could stand on his own. Then she doubled back to check on Anne.

Sasha groaned, stretched her leg, and then leaped up with a shout.

"It's okay," said Mike. He settled her down. Blood had soaked her forearm. At least two of the gashes were deep enough to show muscle.

Her eyes darted around. "Where is it?"

Mike pointed. "Arthur shot it."

"What?" Sasha stared at the pistol in the older man's hand. "Where the f.u.c.k did you get that?"

"Top left drawer of my desk," said Arthur.

Mike glanced at the weapon. It was stuck open, which he knew meant it was empty. The ants carried out a series of images from television shows and movies and a small sequence of Tommy Lee Jones explaining the wonders of the firearm to Robert Downey Jr. in U.S. Marshals. "You keep a Glock in your desk?"

"Of course I do. I'm the head of a highly cla.s.sified Department of Defense project." He looked over at the body. "Did anyone see where it came from?"

"It came out of the Door," said Olaf. The split across his cheek streamed blood down onto his chest. A huge bruise was blossoming along his jaw.

Jamie shook her head. "We were right there," she said. "Nothing came out."

"I think he's right," said Mike. "It came out of the rings."

"I saw something in there," said Sasha. "I think I saw it. It saw me."

Mike prodded her arm and she yelped. "Sorry."

Sasha flexed her hand and winced. Her cheek had faint hints of red and purple across it. "Am I going to live?"

"I think you're going to need st.i.tches," said Mike, "but it doesn't look too bad." He glanced up at Arthur. "Your doctor trustworthy?"

"How so?"

"Can he keep this quiet? If this is an attack, I think he needs to report it to the police."

"So?"

Mike gestured at the corpse with his chin. "You want to explain that to the police? That's before we try to explain that you shot and killed it."

Arthur looked at the pistol in his hand. "I see your point." He crouched and set the weapon down on the floor. "I've known David for years. I think we can trust him to be discreet."

"Then let's get her to the doctor."

"Yes," said Sasha, "let's." Her cheek was all purple now, and the color was spreading along her jaw. She winced as they helped her up, and bit back a yell when Arthur grabbed her arm by accident.

"You, too," he said to Olaf.

"I'm fine."

"You're bleeding like crazy," said Jamie.

"It's just a flesh wound," Olaf said. "I'm fine."

"It hit you in the head hard enough to knock you ten feet," said Mike. "You need to get checked for a concussion, at the least. Probably an X-ray to be safe."

Jamie wandered back with Anne. The receptionist had calmed down, and wrapped her arms around herself. Jamie cast her eyes on Mike's b.l.o.o.d.y shirt and hand. "What about you?"

"I'm okay. It looks worse than it is."

"It doesn't matter, if it was carrying an infection," said Olaf.

"That's a happy f.u.c.king thought," Sasha muttered.

Mike glanced over at the first aid kit attached to the workstation. He was pretty sure it hadn't been restocked since Bob's accident. His mind flitted through images of the building and picked out three other kits.

"Can you get me a first aid kit?" he asked Jamie. "Maybe the big one from the kitchen? I'll use up all the hydrogen peroxide and antiseptic ointment before I bandage myself up. Then I can have some of whatever antibiotics they give Sasha."

"You scared of the doctor?"

"No, I'm scared of leaving this thing alone and having it be gone when we get back. Or of leaving you alone with it while we all go to the doctor, and then you're gone when we come back."

"I'm pretty sure it's dead," said Arthur.

Mike glared at him. "Do you know what it is?"

"No, of course not."

"Then maybe we shouldn't a.s.sume it's dead."

Arthur bowed his head. "Of course."

Anne bit back another sob. Her eyes were locked on the creature.

"Can someone please just get the f.u.c.king first aid kit so we can go?" growled Sasha.

Jamie vanished into the offices, dragging Anne with her, and returned alone a few minutes later with the red canvas case. Arthur, Sasha, and Olaf were waiting at the big door when she returned. They slipped out and the door thumped shut behind them.

Mike pulled his hand away from his stomach. It was sticky with blood, but the actual bleeding seemed to have stopped. He loosened the first b.u.t.ton on his shirt. "Where's Anne?"

"I left her in the kitchen with some coffee and a bunch of Advil."

"She okay?"

"I think she might have a few bruises. Nothing that'll show."

"No, I mean...is she okay?"

"I don't know. I'll let you know when I'm done freaking out." Jamie crouched a few feet from the creature. "You really think it might still be alive?"