CHAPTER ELEVEN

My bullet hit the demon in the middle of the chest. Charleston’s bullet hit beside mine. The demon lowered its head like a bull charging. We raised our guns as if we’d practiced the move and aimed for the head. If it had been a human-sized target, I wouldn’t have risked it, but the demon’s head was as oversized as the rest of it, bigger than the chest on an average man. I knew I could hit that, and I knew my boss could, too.

What we didn’t think of was that a skull hard enough to hold horns would be harder than normal skull. One of the bullets ricocheted right past us and into the wall. We ducked and I went to one knee. I yelled, “Top of skull is too hard.”

I had time for one more shot, so I aimed at a leg. It was a big enough target to risk taking the shot. If we couldn’t kill it before it reached us, maybe we could bring it down to us.

Charleston was emptying his magazine into the body that he could aim at around the horns and that hard head. I hit the leg because the demon stumbled and slowed down enough for me to have time to shoot it in the foot. I thought, A foot with the horns and claws, it should be a hoof, and just like that it was a hoof. But the other foot was still a foot, and hooves and feet don’t move the same. The demon fell right at us, horns and all. Charleston and the others ran, but I was still kneeling, so I tried to roll out of the way. I almost made it.