White Space

Too late. The glass on Tania’s side exploded in a hail of gummy fragments. Two arms—long, lean, impossibly strong—thrust into the cabin. Both unfurled hooked claws. One latched onto the rifle, yanking it from Tania’s hand; the other lashed out.

“OHHH!” Tania shrieked. Bright red blood jetted from her right shoulder. She tried twisting away, but that clawed hand only dug in, slashing deeper, and gave her another mighty yank, tearing her halfway from her seat.

“No!” Rima lunged. Snatching double fistfuls of Tania’s parka, she braced herself, planting one boot against Tania’s seat, the other against the transmission box, and heaved. “I’ve got you, Tania! Pull, Tania, pull!”

“I c-can’t—aahhh!” Jammed against the shattered window, unable to pull free, Tania screamed again. Her shoulder harness had snapped. The only thing saving her from going through altogether was that the window was just a touch too small. “I can’t, Rima! It’s too strong, it’s too—”

Going to lose her, going to lose her! Or whatever had her would tear Tania apart a piece at a time. Frantic, Rima tried to think of what to do, something she could use. The rifle was gone. There was the dropped hammer, but she would have to loosen her grip on Tania to find it, and patting around the foot well would take precious time she didn’t think they had. So what else was there? More tools in the equipment lockers in the passenger cab? Maybe, but there was no time, no time!

So she let go of Tania and did the only thing left.

3

EVERY STEP BROUGHT a blast of fresh agony, but after the first five steps, the pain wasn’t worse, just constant. The important thing was Casey was on his feet, and he’d found the shotgun. Ahead, he saw the things swarming over the snowcat; heard the explosion as the glass let go and then a scream. Why weren’t they moving? He was still too far away to do any good with the gun, and he couldn’t afford to waste shells, especially since he didn’t know how many he had left. Tania took two shots, maybe three, in the church. He was pretty sure there was a round in the chamber; he’d racked the pump, but he didn’t know all that much about guns. God, he didn’t even know how to check. How many shells did a shotgun hold? What if there was no shell in there at all?

Just got to hope there is, and that I’ll have time to get close enough for one good shot. To do that, he’d have to get right on top of them, because he was pretty sure that shotguns weren’t as good as rifles, didn’t have the range, and he didn’t much trust his aim anyway. If he could just get there in time.

Then, he heard the snowcat’s engine grind, and felt a burst of elation. Yes, yes, come on, Rima; get it going, get it—

The cat turned over once, twice, coughed, and then revved to a howl.

“Yes!” Casey cried, ignoring the fresh lancets of pain that stabbed at his chest. He pumped his fist. “Hit the gas, Rima, hit the gas! Go! GO!”

4

WITH THE CAT still in neutral, Rima stamped on the accelerator. The engine responded with an earsplitting clatter, followed by a bark that ground and gathered itself in a whooping crescendo shriek—and then she slapped the transmission lever with all her might. The cat dropped into drive and surged forward, its treads ripping snow with a great, shuddering roar.

Through the shattered window, above the clatter and squeal of the cat’s treads, there came another, new note: a high, shrieking wail as the thing that had Tania lost its balance on the running board. Too late, Rima thought, Oh God, don’t foul the treads! She held her breath as the cat lurched, that side bumping up and then crashing down—

5

ON THE SNOW, now no more than seventy yards away, Casey watched as the cat swung round; saw clearly—and heard—the moment when the man-thing was reeled, squealing, beneath the cat’s treads. Its shriek abruptly cut out as if hacked by an ax.

Yes, yes! But where were the other two? Shaken off? Run away? No, they wouldn’t leave; he knew that. So where? His eyes raked the snow and then sharpened on the cat once more.

“Rima!” God, could she hear him over the engine roar? He was running as fast as he could, but he was still managing nothing more than a staggering stumble that was slow, much too slow! “Rima, the roof! There’s one on the—”

6

GOT YOU. EASING back on the gas, Rima felt the growling cat grind to a halt. She was shaking all over. I got you.

Tania moaned, and when Rima got a good look, that fleeting sparrow of triumph fled. The other girl’s parka was scarlet. More blood was spurting from Tania’s right shoulder, the entire arm only just hanging on by a thread of torn flesh and splintered bone.