Ravenous (Book 1 The Ravening Series) (8 page)

   The silence was unnerving, profound. I could hear the frantic
staccato of my heart as it hammered against my ribs. I didn’t breathe, I wasn’t sure I could draw air into my constricted chest. I stared at the roof above me, praying that Abby was away from the lights, that she didn’t attempt to go near a window. I loved her dearly, but sometimes she didn’t think through the consequences of her actions. I hoped that this was not one of those times.

  
I remained still as stone as the lights flashed over the house and me. The ships were moving far slower than they had during their exhibitions. What the
hell
were they doing?

   And then, the screaming began.

C
HAPTER 6

   I bolted forward, racing down the hall
as panic spurted through me. I completely forgot about the lights, completely forgot about my own safety as fear for Abby consumed me. I grasped hold of the banister and leapt up the stairs two at a time. My foot caught one of the steps wrong causing me to fall awkwardly. I scrambled to grasp hold of the banister; it was the only thing that kept me from tumbling over backwards down the stairs. Pain lanced through my knees and hands as I fell hard, but Abby’s endless screams drove me swiftly back to my feet.

   “Abby!
Abby!” I raced down the hall, fighting against the blinding lights flashing rapidly over my stunned eyes. I felt like I was in a hideously bad horror movie as I lifted my hands to try and fend off some of the intense light. Abby’s screams continued, rising and falling as her terror and fear pounded throughout the house. I plunged down the hall, no longer caring about the noise I made as I ran. It didn’t matter anyway; they already knew we were here.

   I slammed off of a table in the hallway, knocking it over with a clattering b
ang. It skidded a few feet away; I had to jump over it as it tumbled down the hall. Abby’s cries abruptly broke off; the ensuing quiet was far worse than her screams had been. Light flooded my mother’s room as I burst through the doorway. I stumbled, fell, jumped back to my feet before stumbling back again and slamming into the bedroom wall.

  
I flattened against the wall, I couldn’t move; my eyes were wide with horror, my heart was in my throat as I took in the awful sight before me. It wasn’t
us
that the aliens were looking for, but our mother. That thing, that awful tentacle
thing
was in the room. It was moving up and down in a searching pattern as it slid across the floor toward where our mother still sat upon the plywood.

   Abby was on the bed, her mouth gaping
, her hands on either side of her head as she watched the thing slithering along. It had broken the window; glass littered the floor around it. “Oh,” Abby moaned.

   I didn’t know what to do, how to react. Then that thing reached our mother. Images of what had happened to th
e man on the street flooded my mind. There was no way I was going to allow that to happen to her. I leapt forward, falling to my knees as I grabbed a piece of glass from the floor. I ignored the pain that sliced through my palms and knees as the glass bit sharply into them. Adrenaline propelled me as I lifted the glass over my head and drove downward with the full force of my weight.

   Blood exploded over me,
but I instinctively knew it was not that
things
blood. It pulsed out of the tentacle in spraying waves that coated me, and the walls. I thought it was Abby’s screams filling the room; it took me a moment to realize it was actually the
thing
that was screaming. It screeched as it jerked and flopped over the floor, twisting and withering violently as it reared up high before slamming down again. I fell back, clamoring to get out of the way, awkwardly scrambling to my feet as it whipped toward me. It slammed into my back, knocking me to my hands and knees with a blow hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. Choking, gasping for breath, I struggled to crawl away as it came at me again. The end of the tentacle opened wide, revealing piercing, needlelike teeth that had been crammed into a hideous, six inch wide mouth.

  
My eyes widened in disgust, a gurgling cry of alarm tore from me. I was shaking, coated in sweat and blood. My heart was hammering so violently I was half afraid I was going to have a heart attack. I was frantic with terror. I may not be frozen like the others, but that thing was still completely capable of killing me, even if I had wounded it. Its howling cries grew louder as it darted at me, slicing across my cheek, spilling more of my blood. Suddenly it screams weren’t all about agony, but also excitement and hunger as it tasted me.

  
I dodged its attack as it searched for the source of the fresh blood it had spilled. I scrambled away, crab crawling rapidly backwards as it lunged at me again. This time I wasn’t fast enough. This time it was on me.

   It wrapped swiftly around my middle, winding rapidly toward my throat with the speed of a cobra. I clawed
at it, trying to grasp it as it neared my throat with deadly velocity. “No, no, no,” I found myself rapidly and uselessly panting out the word, even as the thing continued to ensnare me.

   “Bethany!” Abby screamed.

   Then it was there, in front of my face, floating before my wide, terrified eyes. Those thousands of needlelike teeth clicked as they rippled over like dandelions blowing in a summer wind. Though it had no discernible eyes I knew it was staring at me, judging me, sizing me up; tormenting me before it delivered its killing blow.

  
The thing screamed suddenly, rearing back. I recoiled, wincing as I waited for the death blow to be delivered, but it did not come. I winced as it constricted painfully upon me, nearly cracking my ribs with its intense pressure. The thing dropped suddenly, hissing and screaming as it plummeted out of my line of vision. I inhaled sharply, finally able to draw a full breath as its crushing embrace on my lungs eased.

   My gaze found Abby across the way. My younger,
smaller sister was sitting over the creature. The piece of glass within her hands had been driven through my original wound, severing the thing in half. She was staring at me in wide eyed horror; blood smeared her delicate, fair cheeks. Gratitude filled me; I pulled the limp thing away from me, dropping it onto the floor as I rose shakily to my feet. There was far more strength and courage in Abby than I had realized.

  
I had only a moment of relief though as all of the lights suddenly stopped flashing and became focused solely upon our house. The beams blazed brightly, lighting the room far more than even the sun would. I lifted my hand, attempting to block the blinding light from my burning eyes. “Abby, get away from the window,” I commanded softly.

   “Bethany?”

   “Get away from the window!” I ordered more fiercely, my teeth clenching tight as my body thrummed with a sense of impending doom.

   Abby
crawled toward me; carefully avoiding the thing sprawled on the floor. “Hurry Abby, hurry!” I urged.

   She was almost to me when
another window shattered. Glass sprayed inward, showering the room with its sharp slivers. It cut across my arms, sliced my flesh, and one imbedded deeply in my raised right forearm. A hiss of pain escaped me; I grabbed hold of the shard and tore it from my skin. Blood surged forth but I had no time to try and staunch the flow, or to tend to the wound. Abby was curled into the fetal position, her hands wrapped protectively around her head. Her screams were piercing as they echoed throughout the room.

   We had to get out of here.
Now
.

   I toss
ed the glass aside as I ran toward Abby. “Get up Abby! Get up!” I grabbed hold of her shoulders, dragging her toward me. “Abby get up!”

   She was still screaming as she stumbled to her feet. Her cheek had been cut, glass was in her hair, but
thankfully she seemed to have weathered the exploding window better than I had. “Grab the plywood. Abby, grab the plywood!”

   She was dazed
; her eyes wide and confused. Shock was evident in her slack features and glazed eyes. The courage she had just recently displayed seemed to have vanished before this fresh onslaught of brutality. I thought maybe I should slap her, that is what they did in movies after all, but I felt the last thing Abby needed was any more physical trauma right now. “Abby please, you have to help me. I can’t do this alone.”

  
She was moving with me to the plywood when a burst of motion caught my attention. The window was full; there were at least twenty of those things there now. They moved and dodged and darted as gracefully as bees as they swarmed toward us. Bile surged up my throat, panic hammered through me. They were coming for us.
All
of us.

  
“Move!” I cried.

   I grabbed hold of the plywood, lifting my mom swiftly off the floor. Abby grabbed the other end, sobs escaping her as she caught sight of the creatures rolling toward us.
“Hurry Abby, hurry.” The tears streaking down her face cleansed some of the blood that had sprayed over her. “Go,” I urged. “Please go.”
   Abby was nodding, choking on her sobs as she moved swiftly toward the door. My arms were already aching from the weight of the plywood, and our mother. We couldn’t move fast enough, couldn’t get out of this room in time. I found myself praying silently, desperate to run, desperate to move faster. Desperate to
survive
as all of my survival instincts kicked into high gear and the fight or flight response consumed me.

  
“Bethany,” Abby whispered horror evident in her voice.

   She was near the door, almost completely out of it, but I was not close enough.
I wasn’t nearly close enough. And Abby could see those things. She knew where they were, I didn’t. “I’m sorry,” I breathed.

  
She opened her mouth to say something but I shoved forward, thrusting the plywood, and our mother, forcefully at her. Abby cried out in surprise, staggering into the hall before she disappeared beneath the weight of the plywood, and our mother’s frozen form. I dove forward, thrusting myself through the door, rolling as I dodged the snapping tentacles I knew were close on my heels.

   I scrambled over top of the plywood, not feeling at all sorry when I knocked my immobile mother o
ut of the way. I was pretty sure she would forgive me, and understand. I lunged forward, grabbing the bottom of the bedroom door as one of those things darted at me with deadly intent. I ripped the door toward me, slamming it shut with a resounding thud that echoed throughout the house.

  
I rolled back, my rapid pants loud in my ears as I tried to catch my breath. One of the things slammed into the door, rattling it in its frame. The old, heavy wood held up beneath the onslaught. For now, anyway. “Abby get up! Abby up,
up
!”

   Abby was trying to get to her feet,
but she struggled beneath the weight of the plywood lying half on top of her. I helped to pull it off her. The things were banging against the door with more urgency now. It would not be long before they broke through it. I threw the plywood down and began to awkwardly roll our mom back onto it.

   “Bethany,” Abby whispered. “Bethany, we have to go.”
   “I know, I know,” I replied impatiently as I finally managed to shove my mom haphazardly onto the wood. Light suddenly filled the upper hallway. I lifted my head slowly, the hair on the nape of my neck standing on end as dread filled me. The window at the end of the hall was now ablaze, the room behind me had become eerily silent. “Oh.”

   Abby grasped hold of my arm, her grip bruising and painful. “Bethy.”
   I rose slowly, my heart hammering, my whole body trembling with terror. “Get the other end of the plywood Abby.”
   “Bethy…”

   “Now Abby, get it
now
!”

   She released me slowly
and crawled to the other end of the board. It was not the light blazing in on us that unnerved me most, but the sudden, ensuing,
horrendous
quiet. The only sound was the soft scrape of Abby’s shoe against the floor as she bent to pick up the other side.

   They were playing with us, toying with us, and they were enjoying every minute of it. For the first time I became certain that we would not escape this
, that we would not make it of this house. I gripped the plywood tightly ignoring the bite the weight of it caused my wounded palms. I kicked aside the broken bits of the table I had knocked over earlier. There may be no chance that we were going to escape this, but I was not going to give up easily. They were going to get one hell of a fight out of me.

   “Go Abby.” Her dark eyes were wide and terrified as she
stared at me with a trembling bottom lip. “Move.”

  
Abby stared at the window in wide eyed horror, but she began to move slowly down the hall toward the stairs. There was no sound, no movement as she turned into the stairwell, making her way backwards down the steps. She watched me the entire time, tears brimming in her gaze, but she did not complain, she did not break down, and she did not cry. She reached the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner. Light was still blazing through the windows, illuminating our way as we shuffled through the downstairs.