“You should have taken us down there instead of up here,” Thorn yelled. “This is a colossal fuck up, Lionel.”
“With all due respect, sir, had you not come, that would have been the plan.” Drake tapped the pilot on the shoulder and said, “As soon as me, Anders, and Peplow are off this chopper, you start circling again.”
The pilot gave the thumbs up and prepared to lift off again.
“You cannot leave me here,” Thorn protested.
“And I cannot wheel you down there; you wanted to see this shit go down; I’m going to give you the best view in the house.”
The security detail jumped out of the chopper and scampered away from the blades, watching as the helicopter rose into the air.
Drake led the way, kicking in the door to the stairs leading down into the prison and directing his men to follow. “Bits, an update,” Drake yelled into his wireless headset, trying to compete with the sound of the departing helicopter.
He pressed the earpiece tightly into his right ear, but the only thing he heard was static. “We need to move. I think the other group might be in trouble. Eyes open, men. I cannot confirm where these nasty fuckers are until Bits or Bytes fill me in.”
They tore down the stairs, watching for any movement, hoping that the way ahead would be clear.
***
Salem flinched as the tranquilizer gun fired louder than expected. Following the path of the dart, she saw the Wenlutah dodge it in mid-stride, pressing its body lower to the ground, its grasshopper-like back legs bulging with muscles as it prepared to jump.
“Shoot that fucking ugly bitch,” Chalmers screamed as he unhooked his safety harness and turned towards the Madison’s side of the helicopter.
The Wenlutah sprung as the second dart exploded from Madison’s gun. The shot caught it in the antlers and deflected away to safety.
Salem screamed as the creature’s jaws clamped around Madison’s leg. Using its front legs, it gripped onto the helicopter and began to pull itself up, its weight sending the craft into a spin.
The sound of metal-on-metal tore through the morning air as the helicopter’s rear blades caught the top of the guard tower at the far end of the island.
Chalmers turned, wide-eyed, to face Salem. “Do something,” he pleaded as the helicopter spun wildly, the nose beginning to point towards the wharf.
For the slightest moment, Salem felt herself caught in the grip of fear, feeling as though she was Rebecca once more. It was the sound of the pilot screaming that they were all going to die that snapped her back.
She let loose a scream of rage and threw her hands up in the air, feeling the world around her begin to slow down.
Every little detail became astonishingly clear as her senses tuned into the slowed down surroundings.
Salem unbuckled her safety harness and did the same for Bits and Bytes. She then moved through the spray of blood that lazily drifted up from Madison’s leg as it was torn loose by the Wenlutah, the crimson fluid landing gently on her face.
Moving to the front of the helicopter, she unbuckled the pilot and watched for a moment as the ground drew steadily nearer.
As she dragged the pilot into the cabin, she had time to notice Drake and his men just past the guard building, guns raised as they went after the Rake, who was on all fours in mid-stride, a cruel smile on his face as though enjoying the thrill of the chase.
Raising her hands, palms out, Salem made a pushing motion and watched as the four men went flying out of the door of the helicopter. She controlled their movement on the way down, ensuring that they landed in a safe place well away from the impending impact.
While time moved slowly, it did not entirely stop. The ground now seemed impossibly close, and in the time it had taken to get the men out, the Wenlutah had torn open Madison’s belly with blood-soaked claws.
With Madison’s fate sealed, there was nothing to be done but get clear of the earthbound chopper. Salem leaped out the door and drifted to the ground, moving quickly away from the aircraft and over beside her fellow passengers.
With one long exhale, the world returned to normal speed.
***
As they went through the main doors of the prison, Peplow yelled and pointed. “Right there.”
The Rake came around the side of the building and made for the path leading down to the wharf. Drake fired one of his darts, but the speed at which the creature moved made it a target that was impossible to hit.
Anders shouldered his rifle and reached into his holster, pulling out a handgun.
“What are you doing, soldier?” Drake demanded.
“If you two want to try and trank that thing, go right ahead. I’m opting for Plan B.”
“Those are not your fucking orders.”
“Frankly, Drake, I don’t give a flying fuck. Thorn can keep his money. All I want to do is get out of here alive.”
Peplow made as though to follow suit, but he thought better of it. “Let’s get after that thing.”
Drake continued to glare at Anders, but he nodded. “You do not fire those live rounds until absolutely necessary. Let’s go.”
The men raced down the path in pursuit of the Rake, who appeared to be slowing down to let them catch up.
“Looks like he wants to play,” Peplow said.
The men closed the gap, and as they rounded a corner that brought the wharf into view, they all stopped, mouths agape as the second helicopter crashed into the ground and exploded in a massive fireball.
Just keeps getting better!
The way you contrasted the visceral gore of the Wenlutah's attack with the silent, slow-motion grace of Salem’s awakening was breathtaking. That image of her moving through the 'lazily drifting' blood spray is hauntingly beautiful. It really feels like she’s finally shed her past to become something entirely new.