Until the next flash of lightning from the chem storm threw the scene into brilliant, stark pink relief, halting the movement so that Ryan could make out what it was. “Bastard rat!”
It was one of the massive mutie creatures, identical to the ones that they’d run into earlier in the previous day. If anything, it looked even bigger.
The body was bloated, the fur clinging, sodden, to the five-foot-long body. The leprous tail twitched uneasily behind the mutie creature, and the blank golden eyes turned slowly toward the watching man. Common sense told Ryan that the rodent couldn’t possibly see him at that distance in that light, but his grip relaxed and he dropped clumsily to the floor of the bathroom.
He waited, crouched, steadying his breathing, aware that his heart was beating faster than usual.
There was something hideously malevolent about the soaking predator, waiting out in the storm.
Where was it going?
On an impulse Ryan moved fast out of the bathroom, heading to the main entrance. He hesitated a moment, then retreated to their bedroom. He leaned over Krysty and shook her gently awake, his hand pressed over her mouth to stop her from crying out.
“Quiet,” he whispered. “Just saw one of those mutie rats, heading toward where Dean, Doc and Jak are. I caught the bad feeling from you.” He took his hand away.
“Storm,” she said, starting to sit upright.
“Yeah. Bad one.” Lightning cracked through a narrow gap at the top of the solid sec shutters, like the slash of a razor-edged knife. “Going outside to recce. Soon as I’m gone out the front, slide the bolts across again. Keep safe. Get dressed. Wait for me comin’ back.”
“How about the others?”
“Who?”
“J.B. and Mildred.”
“Oh, sure. No point in waking them. No need. Just that feeling. Be back in five minutes or so.”
“If you’re still out there after ten minutes, I’ll be waking them and coming out after you.”
He nodded his agreement and bent down, kissing Krysty lightly on the cheek, feeling the cool softness of her skin against his lips. “Sure.”
THE WIND nearly whipped the heavy door from his fingers, tugging wildly at it. Ryan held on tight, easing it shut behind him. He stood still and waited to try to accustom his eye to the darkness and the turbulent weather, blinking as yet another dazzling flash of purple-pink chem lightning crackled across the forest, followed by rippling thunder. The noise was so deep and so close that it felt like his spine was vibrating in time with it.
The mutie rat had vanished, which was both good news and bad news: good if he never saw it again, bad because he now had no idea where the creature might have gone.
Ryan drew the SIG-Sauer slowly from its holster, thumbing back on the hammer, holding it steady in his right hand, alongside his thigh. He started to move cautiously toward the cabin.
He kept in close to the protection of the main building of the eatery, past the kitchens, catching the lingering scent of the marvelous jerky.
He paused at the end of the block, gathering a breath as he readied himself for the dash into the open, checking once more that none of the mutie rats was anywhere around. But the rain-swept clearing was empty of life.
There was a great temptation to turn on his heel and go straight back to the warmth and comfort of the dry bed. It was almost certain that everything was fine. Dean, Doc and Jak were snug…snug as… “Bugs in a rug,” he said to himself. Yeah, almost certain.
Almost.
He took a deep breath and moved into the torrential downpour, soaked through to the skin in moments. Ryan didn’t make the mistake of trying to run, head down. That way you could easily bump into something profoundly unpleasant and not ever know what it was that had laid you out in the dirt, hot blood gushing from your severed arteries.
Also, the footing was desperately treacherous, with slimy streams of dark mud, mingling with the leaf mold at the edge of the trees.
Ryan brushed rain from his good eye, flicking back his wet hair, keeping a good watch all around as he closed in on the dark cabin.