Shea looked over at Fallon as he lowered a bow, his face cruelly victorious.
“You’re right, the eye was a good target.”
“Nice shooting,” Trenton said, appreciation in his voice.
There was a rattling hiss that seemed to echo from everywhere, the mist bouncing the sound so it wasn’t clear where it originated.
“You will pay for that,” the bashe said, his voice full of rage. “I will swallow you whole and then spit out your bones. I will crush the life from your insignificant bodies.”
“It’s coming back around. You need to be standing in the exact right place when it strikes,” Shea told Wilhelm. “It needs to come from slightly above. If it closes its mouth on you, I’m pretty sure you’ll be dead.”
Worse, like the snake it resembled, the bashe was ridiculously fast. Until now, it’d been testing them and not displayed the speed it was capable of. A typical snake could cover a significant distance when striking, and this one was no different. That last attack had shown them exactly how quickly it could strike. The only reason they’d evaded it was because of Fallon’s lucky shot and the movement of the mist just before it appeared.
“You should cut me loose,” he told her. “Given the size of that thing’s mouth, you’ll be standing in its way if you’re still tied to me.”
She was already shaking her head before he finished. “I do that, and there’s a good chance you’ll be lost to us. There’s no reason to think it won’t lose interest in you and come after us in that event. We do this together. It’s our best chance at survival.”
Keeping their footprint small and tight would insure the bashe came after the proper target. The downside was, if the bashe won this little battle it could snap them all up in a single mouthful.
It was the story of Shea’s life. A little good wrapped in a whole lot of bad.
In the end, the place they chose to make their stand was the best location Shea could find on short notice. Cliffs hemmed them in and the large boulders along the narrow space remaining meant the bashe was limited in the direction from which it could attack. With several boulders positioned at their backs and others strewn randomly in front of them, Shea was fairly certain the bashe would have to come from the front and to the right of them.
That was how Wilhelm came to be standing slightly to her right, with Trenton and Witt in front of both of them, shielding them from view.
They were silent as they waited, fear putting all of Shea’s senses on heightened alert.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and her skin tingled, sensitive to the slightest brush of air. That internal beacon that constantly buzzed telling her which way she needed to travel to escape the mist, beckoned, a warm glow in an otherwise fuzzy world.
Waiting, she’d found, was always the hardest part—it was the time where thoughts preyed on even the most disciplined. Wants, desires, and wishes for the future all began crowding in. Once the action started, adrenaline and fear blanked your mind leaving only your body and instinct to take over.
“Here it comes,” Trenton murmured as the mist swirled and moved like a living thing.
They tensed. Act too soon and they’d tip their hand and miss; too late, and Wilhelm would never get into position in time.
The bashe snapped toward them, impossibly fast. Trenton and Witt moved, pulling Shea and then Wilhelm into position.
The bashe’s jaw unhinged, its mouth stretching impossibly wide, the two sets of fangs on top and bottom curved back like a real snake’s.
Wilhelm stepped forward with his left leg, his right hand back by his ear, the spear parallel to the ground. In one smooth motion, he completed his step, his arm shooting forward and the spear arcing through the air in a graceful line.
Unlike with an arrow shot from a bow, with a spear there was no way to attack from a distance with any degree of precision. It also wasn’t meant to be thrown, which was why the bashe was only steps away when Wilhelm launched his weapon.
It landed exactly where they wanted, penetrating the exposed soft roof of the mouth. It sank in nearly a foot, the speed of the bashe’s strike working with the spear’s advance, impaling it further onto the spear, forcing it into the brain.
Still, that didn’t deter its strike.
Time seemed to slow to a standstill as the bashe’s still open mouth came closer and closer.
Trenton, Fallon and Witt jerked on the rope, helping Shea yank Wilhelm out of its path. He stumbled back, as it hit the dirt with a thud, already dead.
CHAPTER FIVE
The bashe’s head and body thrashed violently in a death convulsion. It whipped into Trenton, sweeping him off his feet and sending him flying, taking the rest of them with him. Shea’s arms jerked, her shoulders protesting as she was yanked forward before falling hard.
Trenton landed with an oomph. The bashe rose and fell around them, its body a spasming riot as nerves repeatedly misfired.
Trenton groaned once the beast had finally stilled, and gingerly sat up. He cradled his arm to his side. “I just got these ribs healed.”
