Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
A week later, I enter the house, carrying bags of groceries. Dave is on the couch, watching some crap on TV. He hasn’t said much since I informed him that I know all about his cheating. Probably because he’s too much of a coward to bring it up. Which I won’t. Our relationship is the last thing on my mind.
I’ve been busy tapping out our bank account—buying canned goods, first aid supplies, shells for the shotgun, propane, and tons of those sticky pads used to trap bugs and mice. Troll traps. I’ve also loaded up our wheelbarrow with firewood and placed it by the big tree with the window. Bonfires are what we used before to slow the flow of monsters, and I have to try.
I know deep down it’s probably a waste of time to fight, but what if it’s not? I mean, clearly the Norfolk survive, along with others, who become the First People.
I make a note to swing by the library tomorrow and grab a few books on quantum physics. Gardening too. I should also get one on surviving nuclear fallout. There are a few caves a couple of miles from here, but maybe I can find a bunker? It’s on my list to do next. I just figured preparing for monsters was more urgent. Later, the human-driven events that fry the planet happen.
“Hey, babe. Have you seen this crap on TV?” Dave enters the kitchen as I’m putting away the cans in the cupboard.
“Nope. Been a little busy.”
“You need to come see this.”
“Like I said, I’m a little busy.” Go away.
“Babe, they’re talking about some sort of wild animals overrunning Paris.”
Okay, that grabs my attention. “What kind of wild animals?”
“That’s the crazy part. They say they look like some sort of flea. Others are saying devils. It’s like a mass delusion.” He scratches the back of his head. “I mean, they must be people in costumes, right?”
People dressed in animal costumes the size of fleas, taking down Paris? Not likely. “Fuck. It’s starting.”
There’s a loud knock at the front door, and Dave, who’s closest, goes right for it.
“No! Don’t open—”
He jerks open the door, and standing there is an eight-foot-tall creature with huge teeth, big eyes, and a dark green body dripping with mucus.
“Dave! Back away!”
But my words come too late. The creature spits acid on his face.
A gargoyle!
Dave screams in agony, and I go for the shotgun in the laundry room. All I hear is the sounds of Dave wailing, followed by a loud crunch.
I take the shotgun and load my pockets with shells.
Thank God Master left two days ago. To where? I don’t know. The plan was that he’d find somewhere safe to hide and eventually make his way back to Monsterland.
I charge to the entryway and find the gargoyle hunched over Dave, eating his head while Dave’s legs twitch.
Gross. Gross. Gross! I walk right up and shoot the damned thing. It flies back, blood and meat going everywhere. Part of me really wishes I were still a vampire. I could fight them more easily.
I head down the front walkway and grab a can of gasoline from the side of the garage and head off to the tree.
I’m going to light that baby up. At least it’ll give me more time to prepare. I think that’s what Grandma Rain meant when she once told me if the wall ever falls, light the house on fire. It would buy people some time to hide.
Things have changed, and there are no doorways in my house, but this tree is definitely burning tonight. I just hope monsters can’t swim and don’t try coming through the river.
I’m halfway there when I halt in my tracks. A shadow blanketing the ground is coming straight for me, and it’s moving fast.
Shit. Trolls? I unscrew the gas can and start soaking the dirt. I slowly back away, leaving a trail of fuel.
I wait until the shadow is almost on top of the gas and light it up.
Tiny shrieks and screams fill the air. I know I didn’t get them all, but at least I got a few.
I turn and start running back toward the house, my arms pumping, my feet traveling as fast as they can go.
Don’t look back. Just go! Go! I hop over the dead gargoyle and Dave and slam the front door shut.
I fly to the pantry and break out the box of tacky paper and start unpeeling. I lay them out near the windows and doors and near the vents on the floor. I grab my shells and go into the bathroom.
Maybe the trolls will be happy with the fresh food I’ve left on the porch, and then they’ll move on. Or I’ve just really pissed them off and they’re coming for me.
I slide down into the bathtub, shotgun in hand. From the tiny window over the toilet, I hear shrieks and howls. Fliers and Devil People. I know the Skins can’t be far behind.