James Axler – Rat King

“They haven’t got a hope,” he said flatly.

Mildred furrowed her brow. “What do you mean, John?”

J.B. pointed to the lizard. “You see the scaling on that? It’ll be like the

armor on a war wag. Those homemade blasters are powerful, but they won’t have

the ammo to get through. Either ordinary lead or the collection of junk that

goes in that giant bastard’s blaster? Not enough.”

“You’re right,” Mildred said flatly, following his reasoning. “They need

steel-tipped—”

“Or some good plas-ex to pitch down its throat,” he added with grim humor. “None

of the calibers will be strong enough, and the shotgun blast may itch it a

little, but otherwise it’ll just ricochet off—”

“Right, so heads down,” Mildred shouted as she saw Tod draw a bead on the

lizard.

The giant leveled his blaster, then raised the barrels slightly, sighting along

them to line himself with the lizard’s head. It turned its eyes to him,

impassive as he pressed the trigger and took the bucking recoil as though it

were nothing more than a feather.

The lizard raised its head and screeched, turning to one side so that the load

of metal and scrap discharged by the homemade shotgun hit the scaly, armored

skin and flew off at a variety of angles, showering the ground around with hot

metal. There was a very slight scorching on the scaled skin, but otherwise no

damage.

Ryan saw Tod mouth a curse before the lizard turned to him, flicking out its

lengthy tongue.

In order for him to get within a truly effective range, Tod had also moved

within reach of the lizard’s tongue. He was too stunned by the ineffectiveness

of his blaster to move quickly, which was his downfall.

The tongue whipped across the space between them, the venom hitting the giant

before the tongue itself as droplets shot off the end, propelled by the speed at

which the snaking pink rope moved.

Tod screamed as the venom hit him, eating like acid through his patched denims

and dissolving his skin. One drop hit him below the left eye, stripping the skin

away on his cheekbone, leaving raw and bloody flesh. The eyeball caught some of

the vitriol and seemingly dissolved, the aqueous humor running down onto the

exposed and bleeding mess of his cheek.

The scream stopped with a choke as the tongue curled around his head, muffling

and choking any resistance. He was pulled forward and onto his belly as the

lizard began to retract its tongue, dragging him toward it, his legs kicking in

the dust, arms flailing at the tongue that encircled his head.

The fact that Tod was such a big man made the lizard slower than usual in

retracting its tongue. Slow enough to allow Tilly to run at it with a piercing

scream, wielding one of her knives. Mac and the two mutie sec men covered her

with blasterfire that pinged off the lizard’s skin as though they were insects

buzzing against it.

Ryan thought she’d go for the weak spot on the lizard, but he became instantly

aware of the bond that existed between Tilly and Tod as she headed for the

tongue wrapped around his head, hacking at it with the knife, trying to free

him, regardless of the fact that the acid had to have already brought him close

to death, his arms and legs becoming more and more feeble in their thrashing;

regardless of the way that the venom ate into her own rags, scarring skin that

was already raw and weeping from old burn wounds.

The lizard made a rumbling sound in its throat and moved one large foot, the

claw coming loose from the soil in a shower of dirt and dust. It was in pain,

and concentrated entirely on that which was causing the pain: Tilly.

Mac and the sec men had no ideas on how to tackle the lizard. They just kept

blasting ineffectively. But the fact that its attention was focused on the two

human objects occupying its immense tongue meant that there was an opportunity

for someone with a better idea to act, providing they could move swiftly.

Like Jak.

Ignoring the whining slugs from the sec men’s blasters as they rained around him