Placing the crossbow aside, she nodded, pulled a butane lighter from her pocket and tested the flame to make sure it was at the maximum setting.
Swinging open the door to the cab, Ryan assumed a firing stance behind the barrier. “Range,” he demanded, resting the Kalashnikov on the dashboard, the barrel sticking through the smashed windshield.
“Close,” Jak said, a hand resting on the tunnel floor. “Can feel coming.”
Moving with a purpose, the rest of the companions shifted some of the loose rocks into a crude wall on either side of the chassis, and crouched behind the cover, checking the found weapons again to make sure they would function.
The scuffling sounds grew louder and when the voices became clear, Ryan pulled the switch, bathing the runts in the bright clear light.
They screamed and covered their faces, many dropping their weapons and backing away. However, towering amid the rants was a monstrous creature of some kind, abnormally large. Its slick skin shone with moisture, and a writhing nest of tentacles reached out from below its miniature snarling face. The eyes were mere slits, the mouth filled with needle-sharp teeth.
Now he knew what had been inside the temple of the runt ville. The runts had brought along their god to finish them off.
“Fire!” Ryan shouted, triggering the longblaster in a chattering spray. The word echoed down the tunnel, and the runts shouted in rage, shaking their spears as the big mutie moved forward with a grinding noise, the tentacles grabbing hold of the support columns and pulling its massive body along across the floor.
“Go for the face!” J.B. shouted, firing the blaster steadily, the big bore .45 booming in the underground tunnel.
The two Kalashnikovs stuttered in strident fury, the twin streams of 7.62 mm rounds stitching the god across its lumpy body. Greenish blood pumped from the puckered holes and the beast roared, extending a forked tongue toward the companions.
The ropy muscle hit the grille and wrapped firmly around the exposed metalwork. As the wag started squealing into movement, Doc lunged and the tongue dropped to the ground, sliced in two, green ichor smeared along the man’s slim sword. A greenish froth filled its mouth, and the mutie howled in rage. Spurred on by the awful pain, the lumbering creature dragged itself toward the norms even faster.
Out of ammo, Ryan and Jak dropped their exhausted clips and slapped in spares, while Mildred put an arrow into the mutie’s left eye, the shaft disappearing into the gelatinous hide with no appreciable effect.
J.B. snapped off two fast rounds from the Colt, the thunderous discharges illuminating the passageway as bright as day. The .45 slugs scored deep grooves across the beast’s head, removing a chunk of slimy flesh the size of a dinner plate. The creature rumbled in pain and redoubled its forward speed.
Rushing toward the mutie, Mildred lit the fuse of the Molotov and threw the bomb.
“Too high, madam!” Doc admonished, a deadly gren balanced in his grip. He debated throwing it now, then realized her target and braced himself for the results.
Tumbling through the air, the glass container smashed to pieces on the ceiling directly above the mutie, pouring its contents of liquid fire upon the beast. Coated with flames, the creature rose upward, bellowing a wordless scream. In blind rage, it threw itself to the right, slamming into the tunnel walls as it tried to shake off the fierce orange thing eating its flesh. The passageway shuddered, loose debris raining to the tunnel floor as the mutie tried again and again to pound out the flames. The runts rushed forward to help, only to have their god crash them under its burning body. A retched stink filled the air . Green blood welled from its mouth, pouring onto the floor and then, incredibly, catching fire as the flames dripped onto the life fluid.
Retreating quickly, the companions stopped firing and watched as the subterranean god began to fry inside and out. The light and heat grew into a hellish bonfire, and still the thing struggled to reach its tormentors. Soon a devil’s skull with bulging eyes stared at the tiny humans, its stump of a tongue stabbing outward but failing to hit the mark.
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