He couldn't shout anything coherent, not with his face so mutilated, but he let out a primal scream, screaming out a lifetime's worth of rage and sorrow all at once. The draculas parted beneath his whirring blade, some of them ripping into his flesh before they died, some not getting the satisfaction.
There was so much blood spraying at him that he could practically gargle with it.
Arms fell away like branches.
A dracula stumbled forward and fell upon him, its teeth tearing into his side. Randall didn't even feel it. He twisted the blade around and drove it deep into the dracula's skull in a spray of brain and bone chips.
No need to tell himself to focus.
A dracula's jaws clamped down upon his left hand, biting off all of his fingers except his thumb, but it didn't matter. That wasn't the hand with the chainsaw.
Did he have talons instead of fingers now? He'd barely noticed.
Another dracula and its head parted ways. How many had he killed so far? He couldn't even estimate.
A squirt of blood shot directly into his good eye.
So he was mostly blind. So what? Didn't matter.
The chainsaw stalled for a split-second, right in the middle of a dracula's torso, but he yanked it out and the blade started whirring again.
Blood dripped from his hair, his ears, his chin.
Bloodbloodblood...
He shook off whatever urge had suddenly come over him. He wasn't going to drink any of that shit.
There were dismembered bodies piled around him.
Literally piled.
He almost lost his balance, but stayed upright.
He wasn't going down just yet.
Not while there were still monsters around.
Adam
LIKE a YouTube clip from hell.
Demons fighting to squeeze through the partially open door, and Randall--now one of them himself--wielding a giant chainsaw and slashing at everything in sight--legs, limbs, heads, guts strewn across the helipad--and a pang of fear now cutting through Adam's grief.
He clutched Daniella to his chest and backed away from Stacie's body as one of those things stalked him in full scrubs with a surgical power drill, revving the tiny motor.
It stopped suddenly, attention drawn to Adam's wife and the pool of blood she lay in.
When it fell to the ground and started hungrily licking it up, something came unhinged in Adam and he ran, six steps covered in no time, and kicked the former surgeon squarely in the face.
The monster tumbled back, but quickly righted itself, jumped to its feet, and charged. Adam held Daniella in his right arm, his left raised to fend off the attack.
The demon sank its teeth into Adam's forearm, and just as he felt those fangs slicing into muscle, a chainsaw screamed and Adam watched Randall bring the blade straight down on the top of the demon's skull, the smell of friction between bone and chain filling the air with an acrid stench, the motor straining, and then the saw broke through and Randall brought the spinning chain through brain, face, neck, between shoulders blades, stomach, until the saw emerged from the crotch and the demon-surgeon stood staring at Adam, massively confused as it separated like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich slowly pulled apart, two halves falling away from each other to the concrete, leaving Randall, or whatever he had become, to face Adam.
He looked every bit as horrific as the others, perhaps more so holding that chainsaw drenched in blood and sinew.
A great wind was kicking up.
Its eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Adam's heart stopped, but Randall only pointed the blade of his chainsaw toward the news helicopter whose skids were five feet from touching down on the big, white H in the center of the helipad.
Randall screeched something unintelligible through his fangs, then turned and ran back toward the door as another pair of demons climbed through, the lumberjack's chainsaw singing like the cry of an angry God.
Clay
JENNY stood beside him, the kids clustered around them, all watching the running lights of the silhouetted KREZ copter easing down toward the helipad. Its strobe was almost blinding. He leaned toward her and cupped a hand around her ear.
"Soon as it touches down, we get these kids on board. You too."
She gave him an uncertain glance. In the strobe flashes she looked devastated.
He added. "Randall will want that."
Still no reply. Jenny turned back to the carnage and the thing that was once her husband, and Clay saw the pain strip her soul bare.
She couldn't stay. Whatever love or loyalty she felt, Randall was gone, and she'd be gone too if she stayed.
"I won't leave him, Clay."
He stared at Randall, who had somehow found the strength to single-handedly wipe out at least ten draculas. But he was nearly dead himself.
"Jenny..."
"I'm not letting him die alone!" she screamed.
Clay noticed a change in the tone of the copter's engine and looked around. The skids hovered about a foot off the helipad, but instead of continuing to lower, they'd begun to rise.
What?
Clay saw the woman in the open bay pointing to Randall, who was putting the saw to one final dracula. The pilot was looking that way too as he throttled up to leave.
No fucking way.
Clay charged forward and jumped onto the skid, tilting the copter. The woman scuttled back as the pilot looked around. The bay was lit by an overhead fixture. Clay leaned into the light. He didn't have to fake a fierce expression--his teeth were already bared in rage--as he gave the pilot a good look down the bore of the MM-1. He pointed toward the roof.
"Down or you're dead!"
He knew the pilot couldn't hear him so he spoke slowly and carefully, giving him ample opportunity to read his lips.
The copter resumed its descent.
When it hit the deck, Clay motioned the kids forward, ducking and squinting against the wash from the blades, Jenny led them up in a bunch. The strobe gave their approach an old-time movie look. Together they hauled the children up and in, one at a time, until all were aboard. Then he motioned to Jenny to follow but she shook her head. He was tempted to grab her and toss her in but spotted Adam approaching with the baby in his arms.
Aw shit. Adam was bleeding.
Randall
A headless dracula dropped in front of him, adding to the pool of blood, and Randall realized that there was nothing left to kill. As if sensing this, the chainsaw gave one last sputter and died.
A helicopter landed on the roof.
Rescue.
But not for him.
Bloodblood...
He gestured to the helicopter with his dead chainsaw, then staggered toward the door. More draculas would be coming through it. He'd kill them. Saw them up even without the chainsaw running.
When he reached the door, his legs finally gave out and he collapsed.
He sat there, chainsaw on his lap, trying to blink the blood out of his eye, too exhausted to use his hands to wipe it away.
He couldn't stay human in his mind for much longer, but he didn't need to. He didn't have long to live as a monster or a man.
If he could just stick around long enough to see Jenny and the kids fly off to safety, he'd shake hands with God and call it even.
But Jenny didn't get into the helicopter.
Instead, she began to walk his way.
All Randall could think about was the day she left him, and how his one wish--the one thing that kept him sober and sane--was that one day she might come back to him.