Coyle and Fang: Curse of Shadows (Coyle and Fang Adventure Series Book 1) by Robert III (great books for teens .txt) 📗
- Author: Robert III
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“All right, men,” Sykes said. “Get a hold of yourselves. You two, get on either side of the door. Now, I’m going to open the doors, and the both of you—”
A faint voice jumped through the transceivers, but static drowned out anything recognizable.
“That sounded like Coyle,” Poes said.
“Can you be sure? How could she still be alive?” Bolt asked.
“Come in,” Sykes said through his transceiver. “Come in, Coyle, can you read me?”
They listened intently for a few seconds and heard no more.
“I’ll try to find her. She may be somewhere above,” Poes said. “As soon as I find something useful, I’ll try to relay the information.”
He turned and sprinted back down the stairs into the darkness. The men watched his light float away down the hall until he disappeared around a corner.
“Shouldn’t some of us go with him?” Quolo asked.
“We can’t afford to lose any more men.” Sykes shook his head. “It’s too dangerous.”
All of them jumped when something slammed against the door. Louder groans filled the air, and someone crashed against the other side of the door, causing the men to step back.
Sykes held his position, pointing his weapon at the door.
“Be ready, men,” he said.
But the noise stopped as if nothing had happened. Not a single noise was heard from inside the bridge. Sykes turned and nodded his head, reaching for the handle.
The glass doors exploded, sending shards into the soldiers. Long, pale, twisted hands reached out and dragged a screaming soldier into the bridge. Dozens more of the creatures shot out from the opening and clawed at the other soldiers. Misshapen claws tore away leathers, masks, goggles and limbs, leaving jagged wounds. The creatures emerged from the bridge, revealing their horrible, twisted maws and limbs searching for the men.
Sykes shouted and the soldiers opened fire, darkening the room with gun smoke, muzzle flashes and splintered wood. But the pale ghouls crawled through the eruptions of gunfire, overpowering the screaming men and dragging them to the floor.
A dense fog of spent munitions arose, making it difficult to see anything or anyone. Sykes shouted a retreat, and the men huddled together away from the bridge.
“Reload!” someone shouted. Most of the men leaned against the walls, cycling through their ammunition, eyes shifting between the weapons and the clouded end of the hall where their buddies were screaming.
Ghouls lunged from the haze. Arms of ragged flesh and bone pulled men to the ground and tore them to shreds. Jagged teeth bit and chewed whatever got close.
Quolo shot a creature. It turned and faced him with a bloodied arm hanging from its jaws. He fired again, the bullet tearing its head open, and the thing dropped. He shot another in the shoulder. Streaks of red sprayed out, but the creature lunged and sank his teeth into the neck of a struggling man. He fired again and again before a bullet sank into the creature’s head, stopping its attack. Something crashed into him. He spun. The gun was knocked out of his grip, and he fell to the floor. Sharp teeth clamped down on his face, but his goggles and helmet kept his skin from being torn.
Another tore at his leg. Still another bit into his arm. He slammed his fist and kicked with all his strength. He made an effort to stand, to get away, when someone crashed into him. They rolled down the stairs and landed in a heap. Quolo made a fist, rearing back for a punch.
“No! I’m on your side,” said a soldier, and they lifted themselves up.
“We need to get out of here,” Bolt said as he reloaded his pistol. “We’re losing men.”
Sykes looked around at the pandemonium. Body parts lay strewn across the floor, soldiers fired blindly at the creatures, and screams from both sides made his blood curdle.
“Fall back to the hanger! Everyone, fall back!” he yelled.
They ran, shuffling and limping through the vacant halls. Some of them kept their weapons trained behind the group, firing at the stray ghouls who managed to follow. They found the hangar bay and fixed the doors behind them. Most of the men were savvy enough to reload their weapons. Some collapsed to the floor, their wounds bleeding profusely.
“Chief Sykes here.” He clicked his radio. “Someone read me! It appears there are creatures of unknown origin. No sign of crew or passengers. We have wounded here, some grievously. Expedite medical supplies! Come in! Come in!”
“What are these horrible creatures?” Quolo asked. “And where did they come from?”
Chapter 20
Starboard ballroom
Dawn’s Edge
Moreci listened to the pleas of Chief Sykes coming over the radio.
“Sounds desperate,” Moreci said, looking at the waning landscape below.
“These poor souls have no idea what they’re facing,” Veiul said.
“I disagree,” Moreci said. “Every person knows they face a reckoning at some point. I’m only hastening the introduction with their true form: monsters.”
“The Hindus would say it is karma,” Veiul said.
Moreci nodded. “It appears the bombs took out three of their pods,” Moreci said. “The two detectives and our estimable constable. Pity that. She was an interesting one. I would have liked to change her into something more passable than human.”
Veiul glanced at Moreci. “I’m more than that woman could have ever hoped to be.”
“You are resilient. That’s for certain,” Moreci said. “And she’s dead, so the point is moot.”
“I’ve proven my caliber through the defeat of both Coyle and Fang,” she said, clenching her fists. “Neither of them is here, and yet I am. If anyone deserves to be changed into a higher form, it’s me.”
Moreci studied the fire in her eyes. She was always one for her passion of work.
“You have achieved your highest form, my dear. You are an apex predator, and by my side, we’ll capture whatever comes our way.”
A knock on the door interrupted them. “Come in,” Moreci said.
An appallingly frail man stepped inside, bowing before speaking.
“Sir,” he said.
“You
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