Chapter Twenty-Eight

With extreme care and deliberation, Bryan raised his hands. "Hey! If you have claim to this gas, it's all yours. I got no beef with you and I'll just move on down the road."

Six men emerged from a half dozen of the trucks he had previously thought abandoned. All wore pointed boots and faded grey Stetsons. All moved in utter silence and stealth. And every one of them had some type of weapon pointed at him. Bryan suppressed a wild urge to ask which one of them was John Wayne or at the very least was related to him.

One of the men, a wiry, tough old bird sporting a grizzled grey beard laughed. "You see that, Cletus? That tanker's done claimed another one."

The man from behind responded and Bryan figured he had to be Cletus. "Yeah. Works every time."

Then his voice took on the serious, deadly tone of a man not used to be defied. " Now," he said shifting his attention to Bryan. "Let me tell you son. You're gonna turn around very slowly and keep those hands in the air. You make any sudden movements or do anything these here boys don't like, even if it irritates them just a little bit, you're gonna discover what it feels like to be aerated with lead. Got it?"

Bryan nodded and complied, moving ever so carefully. Squinting against the harsh glare of the sun, he could see little more than a dark silhouette and a shotgun held waist high, pointed at the center of his chest.

Before he could speak, he felt the sonic pistol yanked from his waistband. He was frisked from head to toe with a thoroughness that showed these men knew their business. What was equally disturbing and frustrating was their seeming ability to move without making even a bit of noise.

"Well, lookit here," exclaimed the man holding the sonic pistol with obvious unease like it could bite him at any time. "This ole boy's got some kinda new-fangled star wars blaster." He handed the weapon to Cletus who studied it briefly then slipped it into his belt at the small of his back.

One of the others snickered. "Star Wars? Yessir! Where's Chewbacca? Better yet, where's one of them silly little Ewoks? I've always wanted to plug me a few of them."

Cletus wasn't amused. "Knock off the stupid talk and get back in position. Keep an eye out, we ain't got a clue whether this ole boy's on his own or not."

Bryan finally spoke up. "Please. Be careful with that, it's..."

"It's alien, is what it is," interrupted Cletus. "And that tells me you gotta be working with them."

"What?" His assumption confused Bryan. "Them? No. I'm no collaborator. I just escaped from the mine at Sierra Blanca and I grabbed that on the way out."

Just then, a shout cried out when the sonic rifle was discovered in the pickup truck. Cletus turned his gaze back to Bryan. He took a few steps forward but the shotgun never wavered. "Stow that thing in the truck," he called out to the man holding the rifle.

"I'm telling you the truth," said Bryan, pouring into his voice every ounce of earnestness he could muster. "I escaped."

"That so?" He paused and came a few steps closer. "Son, I think you just signed your own death warrant. Ain't nobody ever escaped from Sierra Blanca. So if you were there, then that means they let you out and that means you been working with them and that means you're a dead man."

"No," Bryan asserted with more force. "The only thing that does is make me the first man to escape. I already said I'm no traitor. I shot my way out and blew up half their transport. I'm on the run, taking those weapons back east where they can be studied and analyzed."

Cletus drew in a deep breath. "Well, if that ain't the biggest, smelliest plate full of crapola I've ever been served up."

A voice called out from atop the gas station. "Cletus? We about to get some more visitors."

"What you got, Jimmy?" called Cletus.

"I got two Jeeps, three pickup trucks, and a box van," answered the man. In spite of himself, Bryan turned to see a lookout perched behind the roof parapet peering through high powered binoculars. He swore under his breath for not noticing him when he had arrived earlier. Another lesson learned.

Jimmy added, "They stopped at the cut off trying to decide which way to go. Looks like about a half dozen men and at least two bugs. I got no idea what's in that van though."

Cletus hawked a wad of spit to the ground. "Well, Mr. Escapee. You better start talking and tell us what's goin' on. We got maybe five, six minutes afore all hell's gonna break loose. And when it does, I'll personally make sure you're the very first one lyin' dead on the ground."

"If you think I'm with them, you're way wrong." Sweat poured off Bryan in rivers. "They're hunting me. I told you. I escaped. What's more, I can stop them."

Cletus said nothing, waiting for more.

"I can fire their weapons. I can kill them."

"Son, you think I'm that stupid? You askin' me to hand you back this here alien blaster? I done more than a few dumbass things in my day, but that'd be about the last thing I'd ever want to do."

Jimmy called out from the rooftop. "Boss! They headin' this way. What you wanna do?"

"Cletus?" The wiry man with the scraggly beard spoke up. "You did hear they got two bugs in that convoy, right? We got nothing what can kill them. We best hightail it outa here."

Cletus nodded. "I 'spect you're right. Come on then. Let's load up and hit the road."

A beat up army transport, hidden from Bryan's earlier view, roared to life from inside one of the service bays. Against the blazing sunlight, it had remained invisible in the relative darkness of the interior. Men swarmed toward it as it rolled out of the building, piling into the canvas covered bed.

Cletus prodded him with the shotgun. "Get up in that truck," he commanded. "We gonna have to deal with you later on."

Bryan climbed into the truck, taking a seat on the low bench next to four other men. He couldn't help but notice that four weapons seemed to be pointed in his direction. The sonic rifle was strapped to a gun rack and out of his reach. It might as well have been on Mars.

Then Bryan heard Jimmy call out again. "They done stopped 'bout a quarter mile down the road." He paused for a moment and peered through the glasses. "Them bugs, they walking to the van and opening it up."

A moment passed in silence while Jimmy studied the scene only he could see.

"Griffs! They got griffs!" Panic was evident in Jimmy's voice.

"Get down from there Jimmy!" yelled Cletus. "Let's move. Now!"

Cletus stood on the pavement behind the truck, watching as Jimmy gathered his gear. The shotgun remained steady and Bryan knew his life hung in the balance.

"I don't know what a griff is," he said. "But give me the weapon and I can kill them."

"Shut your mouth. I ain't got time for your nonsense." Cletus muttered through clenched teeth.

The men next to Bryan began to grow anxious. "Boss? We need to be movin'. Things is gonna get interesting real soon."

"Jimmy! You best hustle now," called out Cletus. "This train ain't waitin' all day."

The lookout had climbed down from the roof and emerged into the bright sunlight just as an unworldly creature lurched into view from around the corner of the building. It rose on its rear legs and howled as it spied Jimmy racing toward the transport. Shimmering scales reflected sunlight where they were not obscured by coarse looking tufts of hair sprouting around its legs and haunches. Two large tusks curled out of its gaping maw, accompanied by rows of razor fangs.

Bryan felt helpless as the beast lunged toward Jimmy. Beside him, shots rang out as the men poured lead at the charging creature but it was like trying to kill a rabid dog with a flyswatter. The Griff closed the gap on its prey to within a dozen yards when Jimmy spun and dropped to one knee. He shouldered the rifle and squeezed off a few shots.

"Jimmy! Shoot it!"

More gunfire erupted from those in the truck but nothing hindered the fevered charge of the creature. At the last, it leapt through the air and bowled over Jimmy with a flash of gleaming tusks. Man and beast tumbled across the pavement but only the Griff rose to its feet. Bryan and the others watched, horrified and unable to help as Jimmy tried to crawl toward the truck.

Before any could react, the beast pounced, tearing into him with unbridled savagery. For a moment, he screamed in agony. Blood splattered everywhere as the Griff plunged its tusks into Jimmy, ripping him apart. The screams did not last.

Cletus jumped on to the bumper of the truck, pulling himself inside. "Get us out of here," he called to the driver. "Everyone be ready. There was more than one of those things on the loose."

The truck surged forward with Bryan staring back at the macabre scene. His stomach churned and he clenched his fists, angry at his inability to help.

"It ain't the first man we lost," said Cletus. "And I'm betting it ain't the first man you seen killed, now is it?"

"I could have saved him. I could have killed that thing!" Bryan grit his teeth and stared at him, ignoring the shotgun. "But you wouldn't listen."

"Why would I listen to a traitor?" Cletus pushed the double barrels into his chest. "Yeah. We lost a man, a good man. But better to lose one than to put a weapon into the hands of a collaborator and lose everybody. I done told you, I ain't stupid."

Bryan shook his head and with the back of his hand pushed the shotgun away. "The aliens have already won when they turn us against each other." He paused as the truck continued to rumble forward with the driver managing to hit every possible pothole with tooth-jarring accuracy. "If we can't stick together, then all hope is lost."

Cletus opened his mouth to respond when the truck hit something—something much bigger than a pothole. The transport jerked to the side, accompanied by screeching metal and squealing brakes.

"Griff!" came a yell of terror from the driver.

Then, the sound of shattering glass as the truck shook and caromed into an old semi rig. Another impact slammed into the transport and it began to roll over on to its side. Men and equipment tumbled in the back of the vehicle like toys.

Bryan picked himself up from the pile just as the second Griff tore through the canvas tarp and impaled one of the men, dragging him out into the open. Everyone poured from the truck and opened fire on the creature, cursing and screaming at the sight before them.

"Everybody get to shelter!" Cletus lifted the shotgun and turned out to the beast. "Leave my man alone!" It lifted its head from the bloody corpse and stared back, as if daring any to interrupt its feeding. Cletus blasted both barrels at the head of the Griff, vaporizing one of its eyes and sending it reeling back a few feet.

As Cletus turned and ran, he called out, "Come on boy, lest you wanna be next."

Weaponless, Bryan had no choice. Cletus darted into a weathered, clapboard-covered farmhouse and Bryan followed, panting in a combination of exertion and fear. Inside, Cletus scanned the room while his hands seemed to move of their own volition, methodically reloading the shotgun.

Bryan looked at his own hands. They were trembling.

"There," Cletus said, pointing to the ceiling. It was one of those pull down folding stair contraptions. "We can hide out in the attic. Maybe it'll think we vanished into thin air."

Bryan grabbed the dangling cord and pulled down the stair. It creaked and sagged, looking far too rickety to bear his weight. Then he remembered the sight of Jimmy being torn apart by the ferocious beast and but the thought of facing the Griff forced him to climb. He reached the top and heard Cletus swear.

A Griff stood at the door. Blood covered its muzzle and tusks, even coating the strange mixture of scales and hair. It spotted Cletus and its razor claws dug into the wooden porch leaving deep gouges. A low snarl, full of menace and malevolence escaped its jaws. Bryan felt his insides turn to water.

The shotgun blast reverberated in the enclosed space and the Griff attacked. The beast stormed through the door and knocked Cletus flying across the room. He crashed into a bookcase which teetered and fell on top of him, sending up a cloud of dust and showering him in a cascade of books. The Griff scrambled across the room pawing at the heavy bookcase, eager to get at his prey. Saliva dripped from its tusked mouth as it snorted and rooted at the solid wood.

Cletus had but moments before the Griff tore through to him.

From the relative safety of the attic, Bryan scanned the room hoping to locate the shotgun, anything he could use to distract the creature and buy Cletus enough time to make it to the attic.

No shotgun in sight, but there! It was the sonic pistol, the grip partially visible under the debris. It had fallen from Cletus' belt when the Griff attacked.

Bryan eased down the stair, moving carefully so as to not attract the attention of the creature. Sweat poured from him in rivers and he felt his heart racing in fear. Yet he kept moving, one foot in front of the other.

He stooped and reached for the pistol and realized the Griff was no longer digging through to Cletus. It had turned and was sizing up this new option before it. Some movement, some scent, maybe even a sound had caught its attention. It didn't matter. Its attention had left Cletus and focused on Bryan. The beast stood on its rear legs, letting loose a howl as it discovered new prey.

Easier prey.

Then, everything blurred together. The buzzing of the pistol. The simultaneous impact of the beast crashing into him and the kick in the gut as he pulled the trigger. A thick viscous liquid, steaming hot and emitting a horrible smell splattered across his face and chest.

He couldn't see. His face felt like it was on fire. His legs were pinned to the floor under something that weighed far beyond his ability to move.

It was blood. The blood of the Griff coated him.

He had killed it. The carcass, what remained of it, had fallen on his legs and its entrails poured out over everything.

Then, there was noise. Voices.

Someone wiped his face clean of the blood. A face loomed above him. He felt the body of the dead Griff rolled away to free his legs.

"Well son." It was Cletus. "Maybe you ain't no traitor after all."

Bryan turned his head and spat out the foul tasting substance that had somehow gotten into his mouth. "Yeah. I tried to tell you that," he said after a moment. "But you wouldn't listen."

Cletus grinned, his chipped and yellowed teeth peeking through his thick beard. "Maybe so. I ain't ever been the most trusting of people," he said, holding out his hand to help Bryan to his feet. "But you can bet I'm listening now."

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Whew!  Did Bryan fall in with a bad crowd? Is he in deeper trouble than before?  Who knows?

Well, I do.  I guess.  And I promise to let you know the answer to to those burning questions if you'll just hit that vote button...  Yeah, I know.  I have no pride.