Takakura leaped forward again, striking for the arm, but it recovered from Chaney's shots and leaped into the Japanese, furiously blasting the blade aside.
Its clawed right hand snatched Takakura by the neck as Chaney was hurled wildly back, somehow struck by a backhand. Then the creature ignored Chaney completely as it turned fully into Takakura, viciously driving its hand into a blow that struck the Japanese hard, disappearing into the chest of his torn uniform.
Dead…
Chaney knew it.
Takakura, standing his ground to the last, was dead.
Knowing its incredible speed, Chaney was already on his feet and running, hurling his wounded body up the passageway with all his strength. He knew that he retained the revolver and debated turning to fire the remaining rounds, but realized it was futile. Feeling a sudden dissipation of strength as he staggered into the central chamber, the light casting monstrous shadows upon the walls, he careened forward and slid down a slope, crashing to a graveyard of bones that wrapped around him sharp and tangling, tearing at his skin with a thousand clutching claws.
Glaring back, too shocked to be astonished, he saw the creature standing imperiously on the crest of the slope. And, staring upon it, Chaney looked steadily into the glaring red eyes. Although pained, they reflected a purity of purpose — the awesome rage that had fired it to kill so relentlessly, so many times.
It was a moment of silence, each regarding the other.
Chaney rose amid the skeletons, refusing fear.
It smiled.
Strode slowly down the slope.
Only a split second for Chaney to notice the bloodied, ravaged wounds marring that monstrous strength — the bestial body, separated fangs, clutching talons. He never glanced again into the laughing red eyes that focused on him with such purity.
Raising his arm, his finger tightened on the trigger of the Casull. Then twin eruptions — or one; Chaney couldn't be sure — blazed from behind it to hurl it from the surface of the slope.
Roaring, it arched painfully in the air. And the attack it had suffered propelled it past Chaney to the cavern floor where it disintegrated in a dune of bones with a cascading, continuing crash.
Without even a backward glance it rolled, smashing a pathway through the grave mound, scattering bones that lanced the apocalyptic atmosphere like spears. Ducking away reflexively, Chaney avoided most of the projectiles before, stunned, he could turn back to target the creature.
It had vanished among the debris.
Hunter changed clips before he reached Chaney, gripping the marshal strongly by an arm.
"I'm all right," Chaney gasped. "Takakura…"
"We know," Hunter replied without breath. His expression was heated as he glared out. "It's wounded! Just kill it on sight! Kill it like an animal!"
He moved over the skeletons. "Everybody stay close! We'll have one more—"
Rising volcanically from a mound of bones it struck out with awesome accuracy at Hunter, and it was only the lion-like reflexes of the tracker that saved him.
Its first blow was a thunderous sweeping hand that Hunter ducked with pantherish speed. Then it struck with the other taloned hand, aiming to take his head at the shoulders but Hunter threw himself inside the blow, striking it solidly with his shoulder.
Together, fighting savagely to the death, they rolled down the skeletal slope in a whirlwind of blows and roars, each wounding and being wounded. At the base of the mound, Hunter was first to his feet, feinting a move to the left that it took, and Hunter leaped wide to the right, gaining quick distance.
Bobbi Jo fell to a knee, centering on it with the Barrett. And as it closed on Hunter she fired two more rounds that ripped wild surges of blood from high in its chest. Chaney was firing every round he had remaining in the Casull, hitting it over and over before he dove madly from the mound, rage carrying him beyond reason in the consuming heat of the battle.
It saw him descend and turned with clear contempt, a backhand sweeping out to blast him from the air like a fly. Crying out in pain, Chaney devastated a pile of bones as he exploded into a slope, sliding shocked into the skeletons.
Distracted by the marshal's meaningless attack, it raised red eyes to Bobbi Jo, who struggled to remove a jammed clip from the Barrett. Growling, it focused on her with special intensity. Then, as if in hated remembrance, it gazed downward at its body, frowning over fangs, and lifted a bloody gaze to her once more.
Bobbi Jo stared. "Oh my god …"
Suddenly ignoring Hunter, it took its first ascending step on the mound.
Its eyes blazed with inhabited darkness, the mouth turned down in a terrible promise of doom. And, electrified by the horrifying image, Bobbi Jo tore fiercely at the magazine. But it was twisted; the metal wouldn't surrender.
She hurled the rifle in its face as it reached the crest and leaped away but its long arm lashed out, snatching her back by the hair to hurl her into a heap.
As it moved over her, hands flexing, she searched for a weapon but in a moment of horror knew there was none…
Knowing the danger, Hunter rose, searching desperately for the rifle, but it was gone. He cast a single glance to see the creature cresting the mound, moving for Bobbi Jo, and then he was moving with it, climbing and reaching inside his belt for what he hoped he would never be forced to use.
He saw them together as the slope flattened and Bobbi Jo screamed, raising an arm in futile defense. The creature roared in glory and raised a monstrous arm, talons black-red with blood.
"Luther!" Hunter roared.
Utter stillness held.
The creature did not initially move, and then clawed hand relaxed and, glaring with red eyes, it turned.
A wall of flame rumbled behind Hunter.
Darkness highlighted the might and fury of the beast as it beheld him. Cold and contemptuous, it dropped Bobbi Jo to the bones, advancing into the challenge.
Stepping to the side, angling on the dune of bleached bones, Hunter held the titanium tendril behind his back. And it matched him step for step, walking slowly forward, squaring.
"You are a fool," it growled.
"Who's the fool, Luther?" Hunter shouted, still angling. "Somebody who sacrificed their humanity for this?" He flung out an arm. "Look! Look around you! What do you see! You sacrificed your humanity for nothing!"
Hands clenching, the beast took a step forward.
"Never call me Luther," it snarled. "Luther is dead."
Hunter shifted his hand on the handle, the snare.
"Your immortals killed themselves, Luther!" Hunter said as he retreated a half-step, trying to draw it from Bobbi Jo and Chaney. "There's nothing left! That's what you traded your life for! So who's the fool! You were a man! And you gave it up for nothing! For nothing!"
"We ruled this world!" it bellowed as it advanced a wide space in a breath. And at the move Hunter reflexively bent, preparing. His mind raced as he circled to his right.
"You returned to a graveyard, Luther!" he said. "Everything you thought was glory! Look! You've returned to hell, Luther! They're gone! You're the only one! So how long will you last? A week? A month? A year before they hunt you down?"
It roared — a soul-searing rage extending from greatly distended white fangs — and it suddenly seemed to stand closer and more terrible and infinitely more threatening. Monstrous taloned hands clenched as it slowly advanced.
"I’ll kill you for this!"
"For what, Luther? For showing you the truth?"
"For challenging me!"
Hunter cast a glance at Bobbi Jo to see her still trying to dislodge the clip; no time for it.