Chapter 7: I want an 8 Ball

Chapter 7: I want an 8 Ball

Shit! James pounded the steering wheel. Shit shit shit shit!

Serenity whipped about, trying to keep all the gremlins in view. They were all over the car. Slamming their fists against the windows, head butting them, causing small cracks to spider into existence.

Theyre going to get in! she shouted. Go faster!

I cant go faster! he yelled back at her. The cars fucked!

He tried swerving from side to side to dislodge gremlins but failed. All the while the chittering cry went up from the car roof, some six or seven of them keening into the New York City dusk.

Fuck this! Cover your ears! Serenity pointed the gun straight up.

What? James stared at her. Wait!

She started firing. Not madly, but careful, deliberate shots at different parts of the roof.

James let go of the wheel and covered his ears. The sound was deafening in the small space.

Some of the chittering stopped. Several small bodies fell away, but there were hundreds to replace them.

James leaned over the wheel, trying to see past the dozen gremlins pounding on the windshield. Already cracked from the crash, it was weakening by the moment.

Think, think! he yelled at himself. They couldnt go faster, and for all he knew the car was about to die. They couldnt get out of the car - theyd be immediately swarmed and torn apart. Drive into a canal? Drive into a wall and knock the gremlins off? No, too many running alongside. Then?

He searched the shops up ahead.

There.

Buckle up!

He sawed the wheel to the left. The Camry curled around, rear wheels squealing, and they drove straight into the front of a boutique cupcake shop.

The front wall was of glass, floor to ceiling, and it exploded around them, a cacophony of glass, gremlins screaming, and they plowed through gleaming stainless-steel tables and chairs, bounced off the counter, and hit the rear wall.

Out! he shouted, shoving his door open. Out!

He swung his skillet as he emerged, catching a leaping gremlin like a ping pong player would a ball, and staggered away. The car was slicked with black blood, the broken glass and impact having knocked almost all the gremlins but those on the trunk right off.

But more were swarming into the cupcake store.

Serenity started firing.

Bambambambambam.

Gremlins toppled but there were too many. James looked around desperately, saw a narrow hallway going back to bathrooms. This way!

He swung his skillet, crushed a skull, and then his aura flickered gray, and a gremlin released his leg even as its talons scored his flesh.

James leaped clumsily over the crumpled hood, sweeping broken glass before him and ran down the short corridor. Doors off each side, but he ignored them. Theyd be trapped and killed, and he didnt want to bet his life on the hope that the gremlins couldnt dig their way through wood with enough effort.

Serenity dropped a spent magazine, slammed another into her Glock. Retreated into the hallway, picking her targets.

James ran to the end of the hall. It was only some six yards deep and ended in a service door. Tried the handle.

Locked.

Fuck! he slammed at the handle with his skillet.

Bambambambambam.

Serenity backed into him. What we doing?!

James gave up on the door, turned, and his heart sank.

Gremlins were flooding into the cupcake shop. There were easily fifty of them making their way slowly over toppled tables and the ruined counter, the orange streetlight picking them out and making them look even more ghastly.

But they were moving slowly now, grinning.

They knew they had their prey trapped.

Reload, said James, stepping forward, skillet in hand. Ill buy you time.

James sucked in a deep breath. No time for regrets. More stamina, agility, strength, all of it would have been golden right now.

But there were hundreds still in the shop ahead. He could still hear the keening sound that some gremlins were making outside the shop.

Hey assholes, enough already! You got this situation covered!

Gremlins came at them, filling the corridor.

James moved forward to give Serenity room, swung his black iron pan. But he was starting to flag. The thing was heavy, and the handle was just a fraction too short for an easy two-handed grip.

He knocked two gremlins back before the first got past him and slashed his thigh.

His aura flared, but brighter this time, and the gremlins fist charred to the bone. It screeched and fell back.

Serenity started firing. The corridor was an explosive echo chamber. Seventeen more gremlins dropped.

James dropped back, summoned his sheet.

Aura: Lead

Aura Strength: 2

Didnt look impressive, but hed take it. Arete was now at 18. Was there a threshold for crossing to Aura Strength 2? He wanted it to be 15, for it to work in multiples of something, but hed no idea.

Serenity ran out of bullets. Immediately set to reloading, her fingers dexterous and nimble in the dark.

Im up. James pushed himself forward, skillet at the ready. The pile of dead gremlins was now knee high in the center of the corridor and tapering down in both directions. James took a deep breath and set to swinging.

Time ceased to have meaning. Bouts of gunfire alternated with his ever more desperate attempts to fend off the gremlins while Serenity reloaded.

But Aura 2 was no joke. Where before the gremlins reacted as if theyd touched a hot stovetop, now whatever part of them hit him burned right down to the bone. With claw attacks that meant the loss of a limb, but the stupid fuckers who bit him died on the spot.

But they were still wounding him. His legs were a mess of lacerations. His blood slicked the floor, and he kept slipping on it. Bites pocked his arms, had punched through the bandages. He felt woozy, hazy with pain, the skillet a hundred pounds, but fear and desperation urged him on.

Leveled up! crowed Serenity. Agility sixteen!

How many bullets? he shouted hoarsely.

Last mag.

Night had fallen outside. Orange streetlight glinted off shattered glass and stainless steel in the shop, while before them hundreds of crimson eyes floated in the gloom, split by vertical slits.

Not good.

Not good, she agreed.

The gremlins had crept over the mound of the dead, had paused as if listening to their conversation, and now grinned and crouched to leap.

How many had they killed? Over a hundred of them, easy. James stomped on the wounded before him, kicked the corpses away.

I want a beer, he croaked.

Fuck beer, said Serenity, standing up behind him. I want an 8 ball.

The four lead gremlins shrieked and leaped.

James swung the skillet in a great arc. Batted all four aside, then kicked a fifth as it rushed them. Serenity shot a sixth. James reversed his swing, knocked another back, stomped those whod survived the original leap. Serenity shot three more, trying to conserve her bullets.

James staggered back, swung his skillet. Why hadnt she had a baseball bat at home? A fucking machete? A chainsaw?

They killed, and they killed, and then Serenity put her gun up.

No more bullets!

The gremlins seemed to understand; they hissed with laughter, malicious and childlike, and then rushed forward.

Fuck this, said James. See you in the next life, Clarice!

And he charged headlong into the seething mass of talons and teeth.