“Is anyone in the truck?” Kristi asked.
She wasn’t too eager to see a dead body.
Jaiden dismounted from his horse, approached the truck and peered inside the front cabin. “It’s empty.”
“Let’s go,” Troop and Kristi said in unison.
“Creepy,” Kristi said.
“What’s creepy?” Troop asked.
“The truck. It’s giving me the chills.”
The broken headlights of the truck seemed to implore her not to abandon it. One of the wheels spun crazily when a stiff breeze blew through. A loud bang startled her. The wind had slammed closed the passenger door of the truck.
Kristi reined Flurry to the fractured windshield. A rust colored substance stained the edge of the cracks. Deeply unsettled, Kristi backed her mount away from the vehicle. A soft, guttural growl grinded out from beneath the truck.
“Ride!” Kristi gasped, wheeling Flurry around.
A creature erupted from beneath the truck. It looked like a hyena, but had a scaly tail and two terrible looking horns protruding from the top of its head. Its back had a spiny ridge running down it.
“What is it?” Jaiden said.
“Some sort of messed up hyena?” Kristi guessed.
More of the demonic hyena hybrids emerged from beneath the truck. Everyone launched into a frantic gallop away from the creatures.
Chelsa spared a glance backwards and cursed. “They’re devil-dogs—government created creatures that shouldn’t be out of the lab. They’re afraid of water. So keep your eyes out for any streams or lakes”
The devil-dogs were fast for their size and matched the droid-horses’ speed easily, waiting for the droid-horses to start faltering before coming in for the kill. Spittle trailed from their curled lips
Kristi did not want to die this way.
“Can the horses outrun the devil-dogs?” She tapped her heels against Flurry’s side, requesting more speed.
“Probably, but the devil-dogs will follow our scent. They’re built for endurance,” Chelsa replied.
“Storm clouds.” Troop pointed to the right. “I think there’s a storm coming from that direction.”
“How convenient. Ride towards the clouds. The rain should deter the devil-dogs.”
Kristi crouched even lower on Flurry and asked her to run even faster. Flurry responded and her hooves caused so much friction against the ground that sparks sprayed where she landed.
“Flurry’s going to overheat,” warned Troop.
“I know,” said Kristi. “There’s not much I can do about it.”
A devil-dog howled and the pack began to chase after them in earnest. The dogs were no longer simply stalking then; they were attacking. A devil-dog came dangerously near Flurry and snapped at her legs.
“Scram!” Kristi yelled. “Get away!”
She kicked the devil-dog away with her foot.
The storm clouds were about a quarter mile away. A quarter mile had never felt so far away in her life. Flurry let out a scream when a devil-dog pounced onto her back. The devil-dog bared his fangs at Kristi. Saliva dripped down his teeth like acid.
Wait…the devil-dog’s saliva was acid. Where the saliva touched Flurry’s fur, the area hissed and the fur dissolved before Kristi’s eyes, leaving behind a smooth spot of metal. This was a nightmare come true.
Kristi clubbed the devil-dog off Flurry’s back with the help of her backpack. The creature landed in a mangled heap.
I think it’s dead.
The devil-dog raised its head and pulled back its lips at Kristi.
Never mind.
Her skin burned and she looked down to her arm. A single drop of acidic saliva from a devil-dog had eaten through her clothing and burned her skin. A little circle of darkened skin was branded onto her forearm.
Kristi risked a quick look over her shoulder, trusting Flurry not to run them into a tree or whatever. Roughly ten devil-dogs remained, and none of them seemed to be tiring.
The sky flashed and a jagged line of lighting discharged from the clouds. The atmosphere hummed with static electricity. A drumroll of thunder followed the lightning and a raindrop hit Kristi’s cheeks. She almost groaned with relief.
“Thank goodness,” she said and the rain came down harder.
The droplets hit the devil-dogs’ fur, causing them to yip in pain and terror. Whilst the devil-dog’s saliva burned through Flurry’s fur, the water burned through the devil-dogs’ pelt. As a pack of one, the devil-dogs retreated, looking for a place to shelter from the rain.
“Do you guys want to ride on or stop for the night?” Chelsa asked.
“I say we ride on,” Troop said. “We’re already wet enough, so we might as well continue on through the rain.” The rain came down in sheets, as if agreeing to his words.
Troop consulted UnivMaps and led them back to South Lane.
“How did you know that devil-dogs hated water? I’ve never seen a devil-dog before in my life until today,” said Jaiden.
“Secret source,” Chelsa said.
“Fine, be like that,” Jaiden teased back.
Kristi shivered beneath her layers of soaked clothes. She wished she had put on her waterproof jacket. She considered rummaging through her backpack for her jacket, but decided against it since it would be difficult to do so while riding in rainy weather at the same time.
“Do you want my jacket?” Troop offered as if reading her mind.
“No thanks.”
Her chattering teeth sent the opposite message, but there was no way she was going to accept help from Troop; it was just going to indulge his ego which did not need to be inflated any more than it already was.
Troop took off his jacket anyways and held it out to her. Kristi ignored the offering and tried her best to calm her shivers.
“You’re going to catch a cold,” Troop said.
“You can’t catch a cold from being wet,” said Kristi
“You can catch a cold from being cold.”
“Wrong. You can catch a cold from contracting the virus.”
Troop didn’t say anymore but the expression he gave Kristi plainly said he thought she was being overly stubborn. And maybe she was, but Kristi wanted to keep her distance from Troop. He reminded her too much of Glenn: smooth and nice on the outside but full of barbs and thorns on the inside.
“I think we should stop,” Chelsa said half an hour later. “It’s getting pretty dark and we don’t want the horses to trip over something in the darkness.”
The rain tapered off and came down more gently. Jaiden and Troop set up the tent while Chelsa and Kristi unloaded the saddlebags from the horses.
“I think I’m going to sleep. I’m too exhausted to have dinner,” Kristi said.
All of her muscles cramped. Even though Kristi knew she was probably going to have yet another fitful night of rest, her body physically needed to sleep even though her mind protested against the thought of enduring another night of horrors.
She was flying. She had morphed into a dove and was soaring far above the world. The land spread out before her like a quilt. However, Kristi felt like she was being pursued by something, something evil. She shot down towards the ground, trying to escape the feeling of being chased.
The sound of birdcalls filled the air. Bright, flashy tropical birds surrounded Kristi the dove. The flamboyant birds—toucans, macaws, and parakeets—screamed out harsh cries. Kristi landed on the ground and hopped towards the cover of a bush, but a large peacock poked its head into her hiding place and she half flapped, half hopped back out into the open. Acting as one flock, the other birds surrounded and attacked her.
The wings, talons and beaks of the showy birds battered her fragile dove body. A fiery pain shot up her right wing when a swan slammed its powerful wings into her. She lay on the cold, hard ground, right wing throbbing excruciatingly. A bird with a broken wing was a dead bird. She was a bird with a broken wing. She was a dead bird.