Monsters: The Ashes Trilogy (60 page)

In her terror, it was the one thing she’d actually thought about. How
come the people-eaters were here, waiting for them? Finn was sweeping up from the south. That didn’t mean the way north was
clear
,
but she and Jayden and Chris had come into Rule from roughly this
direction a little more than twelve hours ago. Yeah, true: they’d come
down a little west of here. But they’d run into no people-eaters. Mina
hadn’t alerted once. So why were the people-eaters here now?

Everyone knew: people-eaters return to the familiar. Chris was
familiar. So was Jayden. Chris’s idea was to use himself as bait to draw
them away so Hannah and Isaac and the others would be safe, and
then kill the people-eaters when they attacked. Only nothing and no
one ever did.

Once they’d made it to Rule, everything had happened so fast,
become such an emergency. Chris getting hurt bad and almost dying,
and then Tom, and now Finn coming and the big rush to get out of
the village . . . well, in the end, they just forgot. It slipped their minds.

Because here was the girl, and Ellie knew only one people-eater
with a lime-green scarf.
Lena.

“Stay behind me,” Ellie said, snicking the Leek shut and dropping it
in a front pocket. Not bothering to see if Dee minded, she hefted the
Savage. Growling her
don’t even think about it
rumble, Mina had put
herself between them and Lena.

Lena stopped short, about thirty feet away. She wasn’t as holloweyed as before. Except for the scarf, her clothes were different. From
the stains on that bat, Ellie thought Lena had picked up a couple
snacks on the road the way Ellie’s daddy used to stop at a Kwik-Mart
for Krispy Kremes and Slim Jims. Already lean, the girl looked wolfish,
like all that walking and fresh air and time in the woods had coaxed
the animal out of hiding. Or maybe
Lena
was finally gone, the beast
eating up her insides until all that remained was the glove of her skin.

But she still has the scarf.
Ellie had no idea why, but then her
thoughts jumped to Dee and her doll, the whistle Alex had always
worn until she gave it to Ellie. The whistle was a . . . souvenir? That
wasn’t right. For
her
, the whistle was Alex. For Alex, the whistle was
her dad. Maybe the scarf was what Lena had been before everything
fell apart.

From behind Ellie, back toward the road, came a faint crack of
gunfire. Another. Two more. She couldn’t say if the gunfire had ever
ceased. Whoever was doing the shooting was in the wrong place
to help them anyway. The idea flitted through Ellie’s brain that she
could shout, or have Dee scream. If it was the good guys, they might
find them in time.

Unless it’s not.
Perhaps Finn had blown through Rule and steamed
north to grab them. If so, shouting would only land her and Dee in
an equally terrible fix.

“Leave us alone, Lena.” Don’t ask Ellie why; it just popped out.
“You
know
her?” Dee’s voice was a mousy shrill.
“Sort of.” Lena’s head tilted like a dog’s, and then the older girl

took a step. “Don’t,” Ellie said, choking up on the Savage. Swinging
first would be a bad idea. Lena was taller and her reach was longer.
All Lena had to do was wait for her to miss. Then, one crack of that
bat upside the head and Ellie’s skull would break like an egg. Mina
would try to protect her, but she didn’t want Lena to kill her dog.

Lena took another step, then halted when Mina’s rumble intensified. “Please, Lena,” Ellie said, “go away, just go away, just—”
Lena came at them, so swift and silent, Ellie never had time to say
anything, much less give a command. At the same moment, Mina
broke, not waiting for Ellie to tell her what to do but racing to close
the gap. Two feet from Lena, Mina readied herself for the leap, and
that was when Ellie finally snapped to; saw the danger, because she’d
read the angle of that bat; knew exactly what Lena was going to do,
because, as Jayden once explained:
If you’re ever attacked by a dog or
coyote, remember that they never come straight on. Dogs and coyotes and
wolves always jump
.
“Mina,
no!
” Ellie screamed, way too late, way too slow, because
Mina was so fast, so brave, and
she
was stupid, stupid,
stupid
. . .
Lena swung. Ellie heard the cut of the bat, a whickering
whir
; saw
the dull twinkle of aluminum in the light of this new day. The bat
caught Mina under her jaw, smashing with a wicked brute force that
snapped the dog’s head back with a loud and sickening
crack!
Mina
never cried out or made a sound. There was no leap of blood. The
blow sent the dog sailing off-target to crash into a hummock of dirty
snow and forest litter.
“Mina!”
Ellie shrieked, and darted forward. Behind her, Dee was
screaming again, a sound Ellie barely heard over the thunder in her
head. Ahead, through a furious red haze, she saw Lena stride to her
fallen dog, her Mina, and bring that bat high over her head like a
sledgehammer. Ellie had a moment’s hope when she wondered if
Mina might still be alive—or if Lena only wanted to make sure.
Then Ellie was beyond caring, barely thinking, only moving,
charging with murder on her mind and her heart already breaking.
Roaring, she brought the Savage around in a vicious slice just as Lena
began to turn. Speeding through air, the rifle axed Lena’s middle,
knocking the girl away from her dog, her
dog
! Ellie barely registered
the blow, wasn’t really aware she connected until Lena stumbled
onto her heels. Off-balance, Lena backpedaled a few steps before her
feet skidded on a patch of slick snow. As she fell, Lena lost her grip
on the bat, which turned a drunken cartwheel before thumping to
the ground a few feet to Lena’s right. That put the aluminum bat
on Ellie’s left, and she had one second, one
second
. . . and hesitated,
unsure if she should try for the bat or not.
One second was all the animal-Lena needed. In a flash, she was
rolling, hand shooting for the bat, fingers outstretched.
“No!” Ellie brought the Savage down like that huge hammer her
daddy once used to ring the bell on a county fair midway and win her
a stuffed monkey. The rifle caught Lena’s left arm at the elbow with
a tremendous
whack.
Lena let out a screech. Breaking apart from
the force of the blow, the Savage splintered, the entire wooden stock
assembly shearing from the barrel. Staggering from her own momentum, Ellie felt her boots skitter over snow humped atop old leaves and
then her feet cut out from under. The Savage’s barrel spun off like a
discarded baton. Crashing down hard on first her left ankle and then
her hip, the blow knocked out her breath and sent an electric shock
into the small of her back. A wheezy scream winged off her tongue.
Retching, Ellie rolled onto her stomach. The forest wavered and she
had a brief second when she wondered if this was what happened
before you passed out.
There came the rustle of leaves as the monster gathered herself.
Ellie looked up. On her feet, only ten feet away, Lena swayed, her face
a clench of fury and pain. Her scarf dragged like the long, lime-green
tongue of a sick lizard. From that nasty kink, her left arm seemed to
suddenly have grown a second elbow.
With her good right hand, Lena picked up the bat.
“I hate you,” Ellie choked. Tears streamed over her cheeks. “You
killed my
dog
.” Her closet-voice was shrieking,
Get up, Ellie, get up, get
up!
So why wasn’t she listening? Because she was on her belly. Getting
up meant pushing to hands and knees, setting her feet, and she was
too furious and frightened to take her eyes from this girl. What you
couldn’t see and only imagined was always scarier than what was
real. Lena was already bad enough.
But Ellie did one thing. Her hand snuck into her pocket—and
found her Leek. The knife was slim and, with the blade folded away,
only just filled her hand.
Lena came for her, and Ellie watched her come and thought,
You
have to wind up. Even for a swing like this, you’ll have to batter up
.
“I used to feel sorry for you.” She had no idea where Dee was.
Since she wasn’t screaming, maybe Dee had run off or fainted. It
didn’t matter. The only thing that did was this murderer who’d led the
people-eaters to Eli and Roc; whose friends had burned Isaac’s barn
and baby lambs. Who’d just killed her dog, her sweet Mina, who’d
been nothing but good, and who was the very last tie to her daddy, the
very last. “I thought you were different. But I hope Chris finds you,”
she said as she lost sight of Lena’s face because the girl was so very
close. What swam before Ellie’s eyes were boots and legs . . . and that
dinged-up bat, still dangling from Lena’s right hand. “I hope he kills
you,” she said to the bat. “I hope Chris—”
The bat swung out of sight.
Batter up.
Snapping the Leek’s blade home, Ellie threw her fist
around and stabbed. Very sharp and with that wonderful point so
good for picking out fishing line, the blade drove into Lena’s calf just
above her left boot, slicing fabric, then skin and meat. Ellie rammed
so hard and fast she felt the scrape of metal on bone.
Lena
screamed
. Not a screech or shriek, but a shrill, undulating
wail
. Ellie just had the presence of mind to hang on and yank her
knife free as Lena lurched back. Not three inches from Ellie’s nose,
the bat thudded to the earth. Ellie made a snatching grab and clambered upright. Her hip and ankle didn’t like that, but tough. Bawling,
Lena was cramped over her bleeding leg, trying to grab it with her
right hand because her left arm was broken.
Can’t run away now, can you?
Ellie choked up on the bat.
Kill you.
One good swing.
At that moment, Lena’s head snapped up. An expression of both
recognition and astonishment and . . . was that fear? longing? . . .
spread over her face as she peered at something behind Ellie. For a
second, Ellie thought this girl looked almost human again.
“Ellie.” The voice was close. “Don’t do it.”
“Why not?” Her voice sounded very strange. Her gaze did not
waver, but Lena did shimmy as if a pane of flawed glass suddenly
separated them. “She killed my dog. She took away my daddy. I’m
not such a little kid anymore, Chris.”
“I know, Ellie,” Chris said, “and I’m sorry about that.”
“But I
want
to kill her.”
“That’s why you shouldn’t.”
Now she did look. Chris had Tom’s gun, the small one, and she
wondered—a very fleeting glimmer of a thought, barely conscious—
why Tom wasn’t there. But Jayden was, a short distance away, rifle to
his shoulder. A white tousle and one blue eye peeped from behind
Jayden’s legs.
She’d
done that with Grandpa Jack at the funeral. As if
not looking all the way made saying good-bye to her dad hurt any
less.
And beyond, on the ground, was Mina, her Mina, lying oh-so-still.
“I let her go once.” Chris’s dark eyes, still so red, ticked her way,
then back. The radio on his hip chirped like a mad cricket, but he paid
no attention. “She’s my responsibility.”
Lena looked small and sad again with her broken arm and bloody
leg. If this were a movie, Ellie bet this was when, all of a sudden,
the wild-girl got it together and called,
Chris!
So then everybody
could go
aawww
because—see?—even monsters have feelings. Then
Lena would run off into the forest—
tra-la
—in a stupid fairy-tale happily-ever-after because people want happy endings and, you know,
maybe monsters get better.
But this was Ellie’s real life, and that was the enemy, and there
were no do-overs.
“It’s not your fault, Chris. You didn’t make her into a monster.”
She paused, thinking there was something to that: like when you
made crummy choices, then had to own up to a mistake and live with
whatever happened next. “You didn’t kill anybody.”
“Not when I should have,” Chris said, and pulled the trigger.

The red storm kept her company the whole way: a constant mutter,
like the throb of a toothache. Her monster was very interested, too.
She felt it elbowing its way around, pressing its nose right up to the
limits of her skull, like a kid yearning to go out and play.
Oh, I don’t
think so.
Bearing down, she sawed her teeth into her lower lip and felt
the monster give a sharp, angry kick.
Suck on it, you poor baby.

She cut northwest, keeping a good distance and some forest
between her and Finn. The eastern sky brightened, going silver
and then white before bluing to a light turquoise overhead. Over
the thump of her horse’s hooves she heard someone shouting: not
screaming so much as bellowing, a wild and incoherent note that
Alex thought was a single word, repeated over and over again.
Coming
from that plateau. Someone still alive up there.
She threw a glance, but
there were too many trees, and she was much too far away to catch
the scent. If she’d been closer, she might not have managed anyway
because of the fire and all the Changed. The air was saturated with
their stink.

She came in south of the feeding ground and that terrible pyramid. She had no desire to see either again, and no time besides, but
she smelled them. So did the horse, which balked.

“Fine,” she said, swinging a leg around to dismount. “I’m not
really sure I blame—” Alex gasped at a sudden shimmy, the shift, as
the monster steamed to life, working its way out in fingers, and she
felt herself start to fall—

—
into someone else, behind its eyes, his eyes. Ahead, there is black smoke
and the GOGOGO as the others work their way toward distant flames and
the scream of meat. It—he—looks left, to the red storm in black on a black
horse and the pushpush of the gogo—and the one who only screams LET ME
GO LET ME GOGOGO. Further away, there are others streaming uphill
and now many eyes full of the GOGOGO—