ELEVEN

Baxter hadn’t thought in a million years he would ever have to fire his AR-15 at a moving target again. The fact he still kept it in his basement had to do with why he’d left the Marines years ago though. He would never forget that night he’d been playing ball at the base, just carefree for one evening. It had been quiet for weeks that night and the troops had finally been able to let their hair down. Their guns were left back at their quarters and that evening they only were thinking of batting baseballs as hard as they could. That evening they were just having fun.

Their enemies were numerous, making short work of the guards and entering their base. Relentlessly they slaughtered the troops in a hail of bullets. They lacked the arms at hand to defend themselves. The only reason Baxter survived was that he took cover under one of his fallen comrades. The event left him with a bad case of PTSD and his honorable discharge.

His dear wife June had to go through so many nights of him waking up screaming in the middle of the night… So many days of violent mood swings… Still, with a lot of good therapy he’d managed to lead a pretty normal life again. A relatively quiet life as a sheriff in a sleepy small town. But one thing remained to always remind himself of his past. The fact he always wore a gun, practiced his shooting and never got rid of his old guns. He’d sworn he would never be caught unawares ever again. Never again would his loved ones fall victim to a cruel enemy because he wasn’t armed or vigilant. And now, fighting these uncanny creatures, he was going to prove that.

The creature’s mandibles snapped at him, his AR-15 empty. He hit its head with the stock of his rifle as hard as he could, imagining it was one of the baseballs he used to take swings at in the Marines. The only result was a dull thud. He hit it again, then turned around the rifle again. He prodded at the creature’s eyes with the barrel. That made the Otherworldy thing back off a little, its eyes apparently its weaker spot. That gave Baxter just enough time to slam a new clip in the rifle. When the creature tried to attack again he opened fire again, making sure he took aim at the things eyes.

The bullets ripped open the creature’s eyes, green muck spraying from its sockets. Some of it got on Baxter’s face. He didn’t have time to be disgusted though, he had to keep firing. The monster seemed to screech, feeling some level of pain from the wounds. It distracted the creature enough for Baxter to run away from it.

The bigger creature was skittering towards him as he ran as fast as he could to keep both monsters at a distance. He managed to reach his goal without getting slaughtered; a big tree. Quickly he climbed it, all the way to the top. The creatures gathered around it, snapping their mandibles, slashing at him with their forelegs. He was too high up for them to reach though. From his safe vantage point he fired this rifle again. He could see the smaller creature’s eyes had grown back again. He decided to target them again.

He wondered how long it would be until the last of his ammo would run out. What would he do then? He couldn’t stay up there for the rest of his life. Would the creatures maybe get tired of trying to get him? What exactly was the boy up to with the grenades now? He seemed to have a plan. That kid was an impressive young man, that was for sure. Baxter had never met someone that fearless. Aside from the fearlessness the kid had this incredible energy, this vibrant lust for life he himself had lacked ever since that night in Afghanistan. It was this loss of joy his June longed for so much. He’d never been the man she’d married for so many years. That hurt him each day but he just couldn’t find his old self back again. Yes, the therapy had helped him get his life back in order, had alleviated some of the pain and improved his sleep. It hadn’t managed to give him back his lust of life, though. And as beautiful and sweet his June was, it just wasn’t enough to spark his energy again. As he was facing certain death at the jaws of those creatures though he understood he sure as hell was willing to fight for his life though. So he must still feel enough love for it. That strengthened him.

The creatures were done waiting. But instead of just leaving, they skittered up against the tree, almost defying gravity. A dry click as he pulled the trigger announced Baxter had fired the last bullet.