Across the Deadzone

Chapter 11: Ophelia

I gripped my machete tight in my hand, my whole body tense and alert.
Compared to the sweltering days, the nighttime air was surprisingly cool. Goosebumps erupted on my skin, but I didn't move to rub them down.
Whatever beast had been terrorizing Hemmington had stopped its attack on the wall, at least for now. I glanced over the edge of the cliff with its rickety fence, three of my companions at my back. There was nothing but rock and a twisting road leading down to the desert floor. The creature was nowhere to be found.
Although that should've come as a relief, the fact that it had disappeared just as we came outside was strangely unsettling.
"See anything?" a woman asked in a cautious whisper. I shook my head frustratedly.
"Maybe... maybe it was a false alarm," another person offered. He sounded like he was barely older than seventeen. My eyebrows pinched together. That didn't make sense.
With dawning horror, I realized what was happening. It wasn't a false alarm or a freak occurrence. It was a trap. And we'd stepped right into it.
"We should-" I started before getting cut off by a bloodcurdling scream. I spun on my heel, my machete held at the ready, only to be met with the sight of the young man hitting the ground. His neck had been snapped, so that I could clearly see his open eyes, still filled with terror, mouth open in a silent scream. His stomach had been pierced straight through. Blood pooled over the orange stone, the red a stark contrast to the paleness of the rock, even in the dark.
Subconsciously, we all immediately huddled with our back pressed together, weapons raised. All except one woman, who crouched beside the dead man, wailing, and calling, "My son! Please, somebody help my boy! Please!"
"Get over here, or it'll get you next!" someone whisper-yelled, although we knew that was pointless. The woman kept on with her heart wrenching wails. We tried to ignore her.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a head poke out from the wall. It was Wystan. I just knew. Maybe by the way his hair fell, or how the darkness encased his form, it was all too familiar to be someone else. His eyes widened in shock, and maybe recognition. "Get back inside," I hissed in his direction, but he seemed frozen. With a low growl, I resisted the urge to run over to him and push him back inside. I couldn't do anything about that now or I'd end up like the other guy.
"Did anyone see anything?" another man asked from beside me, his voice tight. Nobody responded. Nobody moved. Everything was silent.
There was a flash of amber and the woman lay dead beside her son. Her torso had been stabbed in the same way, adding to the sea of blood.
"It's above us," I muttered to myself, turning slowly so I was facing the cliff wall. Sure enough, there it was, clinging to the wall. It looked like it might've been a scorpion in its past life, but now it sported four claws that were probably sharper than any blade ever made, and a grotesque growth that resembled a stinger. This thing didn't even need poison. Its body was lined with thick, amber-colored armour. Oh, and it was about the size of a rhino.
By now, the others seemed to notice where the threat truly was, and had turned around to face it.
A short man with snow blond hair aimed his gun- the only one we had- and fired. The blast rang through the air, making my ears ring.
The bullet ricocheted off, causing nothing but a pinprick of discomfort for the creature. Still, it let out an angry croak, scuttling down the wall toward us. We backed up until we were pressed against the fence, which groaned pathetically under our combined weight.
The monster's beady black eyes glared at each of us in turn. Making another angry croak, this time much louder, one of its massive claws reached for the man with the gun. The one who'd shot it. The man tried to dodge it, but the scorpion was too fast.
He dropped his gun in shock, just as the scorpion snapped him up. The crack of his bones echoed in my ears like claps of thunder.
While it was distracted, I dropped my machete and dove for the gun. It clicked its pincers as if surprised that a puny human had been so ballsy.
I rolled away as it brought its tail down on the spot I had been just seconds before. The stone cracked and I gulped, imagining what that kind of force would've done to me.
Enraged that I had gotten away, the beast let out its loudest noise yet: a roar that rattled around in my skull. It advanced on me, and I aimed the gun. I squeezed the trigger, the bullet striking the thing's leg. I'll admit, that wasn't what I'd been aiming for, but in my defense, guns had never been my thing. Too loud. And they sent off too many vibrations.
It cried out but didn't stop. My blood pumping fiercely in my ears, I fired again. With his lightning-fast reflexes, the scorpion managed to slice its claw across my arm before the bullet even reached it.
The monster collapsed inches from my feet, its body and legs spasming. I fired another bullet, right into its head and it stilled, falling silent.
I looked up, my hands shaking as they gripped the gun. The rest of my companions were staring at me as if they'd never seen anything like that before, their eyes wide in awe. Or shock. I couldn't tell.
As the adrenaline rush faded, I finally felt the blood running down my arm- the same arm that had been bit by the Rubble Creeper- and the white-hot pain that came along with it. I dropped the gun, clutching my arm as the blood dripped down my fingers and onto the ground.
Wystan had snapped out of his stupor. I could sense him at my side. Then felt his arm on my good shoulder.
"I guess we're having scorpion for breakfast," I heard him say under his breath.
"Come on," I said to everyone, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "Before anything else smells the blood." Wystan steered me inside, the others queuing up and following behind us.