He remembered Mildred once commenting that most mutations were random, sometimes not a case of evolution, but devolution. Perhaps the screamwings were some species of hunting bird that had regressed to their reptilian roots. Like snakes, the screamwings had no conventional organs of hearing, but relied on supersensitive nervous systems to detect sound vibrations in the air and ground.
The creature crouched there, turning its head jerkily back and forth. Ryan saw its rear claws tear small scratches in the steel of the SIG-Sauer. It took all of his willpower to hold the blaster steady. He had no idea if a shriek from the thing would draw the flock to the clearing, or if it would decide to take an experimental bite out of his hand.
The screamwing opened and shut its jaws with a clashing of teeth, looking almost evil.
Then it launched itself from the barrel of the blaster, the point of its tail brushing the patch over Ryan’s left eye, a puff of air fanning his right. It took all of the man’s self-control not to flinch. Not too long ago an accident had taken the sight from his good eye, and he had been rendered completely blind. Though he had recovered his vision, he was still overly cautious about risking it again. Fortunately the screamwing showed no further interest in him. It flew in a rapid circle around the clearing, then flapped from sight.
Ryan lowered his arms, trying to steady his nerves and bring his breathing back to normal. He heard the shrieking and leathery slap of wings from the road, and an occasional muffled thud as if the little demons were trying to batter their way into the wag.
Since the wag carried three-inch-thick armor plate, he doubted the screamwings could inflict much damage, but the vehicle’s six tires were another matter. If they found they liked the taste of rubber, he and his friends would be stranded in the hills.
Then, over the shrieks and flutterings, came the staccato hammering of J.B.’s Uzi.
Mildred tensed. “They may need our help.”
Ryan nodded curtly. “Let’s move. Doc, take the point. Your blaster has a wider spread.”
The three went as quickly as they dared through the underbrush, eyes scanning the area all around and above. When they reached the perimeter of the brush, they sank to their knees.
The surface of the wag was acrawl with scaled black bodies, snapping teeth and beating wings. Though the engine had been silenced, the little predators had still zeroed in on the vehicle as the source of the vibrations. Another group swirled, swooped and screamed above it.
J.B. had one of the shuttered gun ports open just enough to accommodate the barrel of his Uzi. He was firing it in short bursts, not really aiming. Some of the creatures fell, dropping with thrashing thumps to the blacktop, where they were set upon by other members of the swarm.
A screamwing soared toward Doc, gliding on the air currents. Ryan unlimbered the eighteen-inch panga at his waist and sliced the creature in two with a single upward stroke. So razor keen was the edge of the blade that it met almost no resistance when it cut through the creature.
Unfortunately it had time to voice a thin scream before its hindquarters and torso parted company. Drawn by the sound of pain, a clot of screamwings detached themselves from the mass circling the wag and fluttered in the direction of Ryan, Doc and Mildred. Doc triggered the Le Mat. Deadly 18-gauge grapeshot ripped a huge hole through the swarm. Small bodies rained to the ground, blood and viscera spraying in all directions. The survivors swerved and rejoined the rest of the circling flock.
“By the Three Kennedys,” Doc whispered. “Archaeopteryx. The earliest known ancestor of the modern bird.”
“That’s what the screamwings are?”
“Except the archaeopteryx was believed to have feathers. These things are more reptile than bird.”
“Reptile or bird,” Ryan replied, “they’ve got us in a bastard fix.”
Ryan quickly considered and discarded several plans. Even if he, Mildred and Doc could brave their way through the gauntlet of deadly demons and get back inside the wag more or less intact, the single-minded predators might very well cling to it forever, or until they died of starvation. The only option seemed to be waiting them out, hoping the screamwings would tire of trying to chew armor plating and seek out more palatable prey.
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