Chapter Thirty

The rifle went off, the bullet just missing Marnie and the Melon Head. Instead, it kicked up a divot of dirt and leaves. Vent looked like he was going to try again. Chuck ditched the fireworks box and grabbed the rifle out of his hand.

“Get her off me!” Marnie screamed.

She had one hand on the throat of the snarling Melon Head, the other trying to push her off. The Melon Head snapped her jaws open and shut, eager to get a piece of Marnie’s face in her dripping maw.

Mick jumped on the Melon Head’s back and locked his arm around her neck while pulling her back. They rolled off Marnie. Mick couldn’t believe the strength of the Melon Head. She was under five feet and thin as a starved dog, but it felt like she was made of solid muscle. He tightened his chokehold. She threw her arms back, swatting at his face and trying to claw at his eyes. Her fingertips were black with filth, her long nails he was sure filled with infection should she dig them into his flesh. She used her legs to push him onto his back. He struggled to maintain his hold on the howling she-beast.

He was really worried she was going to get away when Chuck and Vent each grabbed an arm, helping to pin her down. She headbutted Mick, clipping his cheekbone. The sudden shot of pain blinded him for a moment. When he recovered, he saw Marnie standing over the Melon Head. She was holding a lit M80.

“I’m sorry,” Marnie said, jamming the M80 in the Melon Head’s shirt. “Let her go and get the hell away!”

Chuck and Vent dropped her arms. Mick pulled his arm from her neck and rolled as far as he could go. The Melon Head sprang to her feet, howling with what sounded like terror. She clawed at her shirt. Mick was sure the lit fuse burned like hell.

The Melon Head had just turned to run away when the M80 went off. She was jolted off her feet and went stiff as a board as she fell backward, her arms splayed out. She hit the ground hard, knocking the base of her skull against a gnarled, exposed tree root. A crimson stain blossomed on her shirt.

Mick got to his feet and stood over the motionless Melon Head.

“Is it dead?” Vent said, standing on the other side of the body.

“If she keeps bleeding like that she sure will be,” Mick said. He gazed at Marnie. “That was pretty badass.”

She didn’t look like she felt the same. “God, that’s awful.”

She was looking at the hole in the wild woman’s shirt, the edges blackened by gunpowder. Within the hole, they could see right into the Melon Head’s exposed guts.

“She was gonna eat your face off,” Mick said.

“Yeah. I know. But….”

“We better get moving. Daylight’s not staying around longer today just for us,” Chuck said.

They trudged on, Mick hoping there were other Melon Heads who’d witnessed what they’d just done. Run and tell everyone else that we’re not to be fucked with! The rest of the way wasn’t going to be easy. In fact, it would most assuredly get worse and worse. But it felt good to draw first blood.

Mick kept checking the crudely drawn map. They followed a narrow game trail that was rife with briars and low-hanging branches. The gnats got thicker the further they went. He had to keep his mouth closed tight to avoid sucking in a hundred of them. They were biting the hell out of his face and ears. No matter how much he swatted at them, they wouldn’t leave. Marnie looked especially miserable. She was terrified of bugs. He gave her credit for not losing it. Instead, she kept plowing through them, keeping close to his back.

They wound their way through the game trail until they were plunged into a false twilight. The air was cooler, going on cold, in this part of the woods. It was like swimming in a lake and coming across a cool current, dimpling your skin with goosebumps for that brief moment you sluiced through the unseen wave.

“At least it’s too cold for the bugs,” Chuck said. “I know all the tree cover would lower the temperature, but this seems almost supernatural.” He exhaled and produced a short-lived trail of vapor.

Mick looked at the map. “Dredd said it doesn’t last long. Just stick to the trail.”

It was dark but not too dark to make their way, though it would be easy for the Melon Heads to hide in plain sight. Mick felt as if hundreds of eyes were on him. The back of his neck tingled, anticipating a Melon Head to reach out of the gloom and grab him. He wanted to set fire to everything, both for the heat and the light.

Mick spun around at the sound of pounding feet on the loamy ground.

There was a brief flash of light as Vent’s rifle went off. Mick saw a bulky Melon Head wielding a heavy branch throw its arms out and fall to the ground.

“You get him?”

Vent and Chuck approached the fallen Melon Head with care. “He did,” Chuck said.

“Are you sure?” Marnie asked.

When she went to see for herself, Chuck stuck his arm out. “Don’t look, Marnie. It’s bad. He got it in the face.”

“I wasn’t even aiming,” Vent said. He sounded like a kid who just got in trouble for breaking a window.

“Just imagine what will happen when you do aim,” Mick said. It sounded callous, but he needed them to be ready for anything, not filled to the gills with guilt every time they took a Melon Head out. Yes, the Melon Heads were still people and even hardcore soldiers had a hard time killing the enemy, but it was now a matter of us or them. They were going to see a lot worse than a Melon Head with its face blown off. If they were lucky.

“I don’t like it here. Let’s get through this as fast as we can,” Marnie said, pushing Mick in the back to get him moving. He was happy to oblige.

They heard more heavy footsteps, except this time it was almost impossible to determine where it was coming from. Mick’s mouth went dry. “They’re flanking us.”

There was definitely more than one Melon Head in the darkness with them. And now they weren’t even trying to be sneaky. Why bother when they had the deep shadows on their side?

Mick handed Marnie the map and dug into the fireworks box. He took out a mortar and stuck it in the ground, loosely so it would take to the air. He lit it and backed away. “Get ready for the light show.”

The wick crackled, and seconds later the mortar zipped into the trees with a keening whistle. It smacked into a high trunk, just like Mick hoped it would, and exploded. A dazzling display of red and blue sparks rained down on them.

Within the sudden burst of light, Mick could see the Melon Heads that had managed to surround them. Most were crouching on the ground, stunned by the mortar that continued to birth an array of sparks. He counted five, one of them apparently a child.

“Come on!” He grabbed Marnie’s hand and ran, casting a quick glance behind him to make sure Chuck and Vent were doing the same. The branches around the sizzling mortar caught on fire. It couldn’t have gone any better. As the flames grew, the darkness shrank. The Melon Heads hadn’t bothered to look their way, their attention focused on what was going on above them. Mick wondered if some of them were momentarily blinded as well, especially if they had been hiding out here, waiting for them, their eyes fully adjusted to the dark. Now, it was a matter of getting out of this virtual chamber of horror and into the light.

Mick’s boots smacked into rocks and raised roots, but he managed to keep on his feet. Marnie’s palm was sweaty. He wasn’t about to let her go. He spotted a light up ahead, maybe fifty yards away. Mick whooped. “We’re almost there!”

Chuck huffed behind them. He’d never been much of a runner. And he was pretty banged up.

“Keep up with us, buddy,” Mick said.

“I’m…trying.”

All around them were fallen, misshapen trees covered in thick carpets of moss. It looked like something out of a fantasy movie. He spotted the first Melon Head poking its head out of a large knothole in one of the tree trunks, its extrication nauseatingly resembling Nature herself giving birth to a tainted offspring. The Melon Head slipped out, glided along the moss and jumped to its feet.

Leaves rattled overhead. Mick saw a shadow leap from one branch to another. He shot wildly into the trees as he ran. They had to get the hell out of there.

“Look out!” Marnie shouted.

Mick didn’t see the Melon Head slithering toward him like a snake until it grabbed his leg and pulled him down with a hard jerk that nearly dislocated his ankle. He kicked at it, but it moved too fast, disappearing back into the dirt and leaves.

More and more Melon Heads were emerging from their hiding places, blocking the way out.

“Vent!” Mick said.

A bullet zinged close enough to Chuck, it sounded as if a bee had zipped noisily by his face. He dropped to his knees. Vent fired again, though this time, the Melon Heads didn’t stand there like sitting ducks. They disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared.

Mick dragged himself along the damp ground, his ankle throbbing. He and Chuck exchanged a worried glance, and Chuck got behind Vent to watch for any Melon Heads coming up behind them. The fireworks box was open, some of its contents on the ground. Mick grabbed another mortar and lit it.

“Get out of the way,” he said to Marnie. She looked back and jumped to the side. Sparks burned his hand as he held on to the mortar until a split-second before takeoff. The mortar blasted forward in an unsteady line, hitting near the knothole. It bloomed into a cascade of fiery white that was so bright it hurt his eyes. A slew of Melon Heads exploded from their hidey-holes, whooping and yowling. It was like going into the primate house at the zoo and scaring the living hell out of them. They ran from the sparkling display. Vent tried his best to take them down now that he had good light, but they moved with such startling agility, he may have winged one at the most. No matter, the path to get out was now clear. Mick staggered to his feet and scooped up the box and ran. He didn’t need to tell his friends to follow.

There was movement all around them, but it seemed as long as the mortar continued to burn, the Melon Heads were too frightened to attack. It had just started to fizzle out when they hit daylight. They stopped to look back.

“Holy shit,” Chuck said.

In their panic to escape, they hadn’t heard the dozen Melon Heads trailing after them. The mortar burned itself out, which meant the rest were about to join their ranks.

“Guys, help me,” Mick said. He handed a mortar to Chuck and Vent, chewing most of the wicks off and spitting them out. He handed Marnie the lighter. “Light ’em up.”

She went down the line, wincing every time the flame took. Chuck’s was the first to go. It sailed to the left and then up, igniting somewhere inside the forest cavern. A curtain of sparkles rained down the exit. Mick’s went next, a straight shot that must have lanced a Melon Head, judging by the pained cry that echoed out to them. Vent’s took a wicked turn and didn’t make it inside, though it did dive into the ground just outside the exit.

Mick’s forearm felt as if he’d been stung by a nest of hornets. The sparks had burned a multitude of red dots into his skin. Chuck and Vent were flicking their hands, shaking off the pain. Mick grabbed Vent’s rifle and fired a few rounds into the blistering madness inside the cavern. He smiled when he heard the Melon Heads shriek.

“That should hold them.”

He hastily covered the box and was about to run when Chuck said, “Where’s Marnie?”

He looked all around. There was no way she’d go off on her own. “Marnie!”

Chuck and Vent started calling out for her as well.

“Goddammit, where did she go?” Mick said, his stomach filling with lead. If something happened to her….

“I don’t think she went anywhere,” Vent said, pointing at the ground. Her boot and gun were there, but that was it. “It looks like she was taken.”