Behemoth Risen by Eddie Generous

Author:Eddie Generous [Generous, Eddie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severed Press
Published: 2021-01-12T07:00:00+00:00

12

An idea stopped Graham dead and Gray nearly tumbled with the stalled motion. She’d been helping him hurry back to the hovel. They were just about out of food and water from the scavenged packs—neither ate much beyond the bare need for energy reserve replenishment—and had to get someplace else, sooner than later, but now was not the time.

“Come on,” Gray said.

“Dealand’s Bible. What if it has a reverse ritual?”

Gray’s eyes widened and she looked across the knoll to the bloody pack and the things they’d tossed from it, including that book. They hadn’t even considered a backup plan of supernatural ilk. She gave a look to the direction where Behemoth was making noise. It sounded as if the beast was moving the other way, so she took her chance to break for the book. Her feet slipped on the morning dew and her hand slammed into the grass, steadying her, keeping her partially upright. Her feet continued kicking and then she was on the move with a little bit of speed behind her. Graham watched until she had the book, and then he began ambling in the direction of the hovel, gun barrel pointed to the ground.

Book in hand, Gray scanned the woods for Behemoth and saw nothing, heard nothing. This was somehow worse, the unknowing. She spun on her heels and sprinted. Behind her, a tree snapped. It was tall enough that the action of cutting air rang high-pitched like a dropped bomb. The long limbs reached her vicinity and swatted at her, causing her to veer from the hovel.

Graham was nearly to the tree with the conveniently protective root structure when he had to dive to his right after a glance upward. The treetop nearly hit him and then, flung from one of the lower branches of the tree’s upper portion, an eagle’s nest crashed next to him. Almost instantly, a mean looking shadow swooped close and then whooped a siren cry as it stretched its talons. Graham continued rolling and the bird missed him. The nest had lost its cargo and two scruffy gray birds wailed from the dirt nearby. Graham gave a glance up to the looming shadow and then another to Behemoth’s direction. The beast was coming their way. He got to scrambling then.

Gray was back to her feet and winced when she saw the eagle taking aim at Graham anew, but resumed running when he managed to roll out of the way. Behemoth was nearer than before, but still far enough away—she was almost certain the beast’s sight was sub-par and that it worked with other senses—that she felt better running upright, gaining distance rather than staying low and being out longer was the way to go. She got around the top of the felled tree and discovered Graham standing with his hands to the sides of his head, .44 Smith and Wesson pressed to his cheek.

“It’s ruined,” he said.

The falling of the tree had shaken loose earth and filled the hovel. Frantically, Gray scanned the knoll and the forest surrounding them.

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