Behold the Scalded

Chapter Twenty-Five

Like a slow-motion movie, the spark from the hunter's gunshot captured my attention. I thought I saw the bullet exit the barrel and head straight toward me. My eyes widened at the expectation of what was about to happen and what I was about to endure.

Within that slow motion second, I braced for impact. And when the bullet met my cheek, I imagined the splatter of blood as the projectile ripped the flesh and split it in two. The impact knocked me back and I stared at the brightening sky.

I imagined the turmoil Lilac must have gone through just before collapsing, the fight and pain Hermit sustained as he squirmed on the floor in visible pain, cradling his arm while blood continued to saturate the poorly applied bandage on his injured shoulder.

I envisioned the fear on the faces of the protesting teens and the trauma they would suffer from the sights they'd seen. But most of all I thought of the many lives that were lost at the beginning of this catastrophe. I couldn't just wish those lives back, I didn't have the power to bring Hermit's wife and daughter into his arms, and I had no control over my parents to make them return.

Some things were out of my power, yet there was one thing I could control.

The thought of dying on the grassy side of the radius brought a fear to the center of my gut. The sadness that accompanied the regret I had for letting down my companions fought for the same space. But worst of all, the anger. The hot, seething, raging anger took over and brought heat to the surface of my skin and to the tips of my extremities.

As my emotions bubbled to the surface all at once, the burning pain emanated from the center of my chest and out of my mouth as a scream. My back arched and every fiber of me exploded with an invisible energy.

My vision expanded as white and bright as a thousand suns. My eardrums rang like bells and a creeping static crackled in the distance. I straightened my back to sit upright as the far away trees parted and continued to do so in my direction.

Massive trees toppled to the side, splitting and parting to make a path for the immense figure moving between them. The top of the inky creature rose far above the tallest of trees and overlooked some of the nearby buildings.

The creatures had to curve their necks like question marks to roam the halls of the asylum, but this one at its current size would double over twice to fit inside the same space.

It wasn't until it emerged from the forest that it became apparent, this beast was not alone. Two typical sized Scorchers accompanied it, slick and slithering at its' sides.

By studying their demeanor and actions, I immediately recognized one of the Scorchers exuded the characteristics of grief and the other fear. Their presence oozed with it. And the colossal one in the center was full of utter rage. Ready to use its curved claws to dig up the very land it stood on if desired.

The ugly scowl on its dripping face told the creature's emotional makeup. Even more so as it swiped some of the trees up from their deep roots and tossed them aside in a rampage.