The Rain (Book 2 - The Constant Fight)

Chapter 8 - Mise à mort des douleurs et des flammes

A/N - I suggest you listen to the song on repeat throughout the chapter

James was still hunched over Michael's pale, cold body. His blood had stopped pumping out of the gaping wound now and instead covered the white floor around them and soaked his fathers shivering skin.

Courtney faced the shelves that were pressed up against the windows. There was only a small space of glass, about one metre wide that if broken would allow one dog to get in at a time. She could see at least five scrambling over each other through the pane of glass but she could hear loads more beyond.

The pipe shook in Jeanette's hands, her knuckles turning chalky white. She wasn't gripping the metal out of fear, no, she was squeezing it out of anger. Over James's whimpers, they could hear the glass cracking and they prepared themselves.

Courtney glanced over her shoulder and realised that even though James was mourning, he didn't have a weapon. The only weapon she had was her blade, she'd left her gun on the counter. She spun on her heel and dashed around Michael's body, snatching her black gun off the counter and turning round. She paused beside James, her back to the pane of glass. Just as she picked up James's limp hand and placed the knife in his palm, the glass smashed.

A brown dog had broken the bottom of the glass door, its muddy paw was the first thing to break through. Jeanette lifted the pipe above her head, ready to bring it down when the mutt's body would come into view.

Courtney's body faced Jeanette's while her eyes were on the gun. She unloaded the magazine, pulled the slide back and re-inserted the clip, crossing her fingers that it would work. She switched the safety off and prayed, if her gun didn't work, then they were screwed. Her hand went up to her necklace, clasping the cross tightly in her palm until she felt it digging into her fingers and she had not choice but to let it go.

Luckily for Jeanette, the door was split into two sections, both glass. It meant that the number of dogs that could squeeze through would be limited. The paw scrambled around the floor, scraping its sharp claws against the ground and dragging shards of glass back and forth. The hound growled in what Jeanette could only assume would be frustration. And before she could blink, the bottom glass pane smashed, and the dog came crashing through.

Courtney threw her hands up and looked down the barrel of the gun, aiming at the mongrel's head. Just as she was about to pull the trigger, the lead pipe came slamming down on the dogs head, the metal pounding into its skull. The dog whimpered and its face hit the ground, bum in the air. Jeanette struck again, bringing the pipe down on its head again. The skull smashed open, and if the dog wasn't dead now then it sure would be in a lot of pain. Courtney averted her eyes at the sight of blood and brains all over the floor.

Jeanette could see now, there were at least fifteen dogs outside. Panic swept in. There was no way they could take them all out. A dog that had no one colour came barging over its dead friend. Baring its teeth at Jeanette and getting in the position to pounce. She didn't hesitate, she swung. Like a baseball player, she hit her target. The dogs head snapped to the side and the sound of multiple bones breaking met her ears.

"There's too many!" Jeanette screamed back to Courtney over her shoulder as she lifted the bloodied pipe, ready to swing again. "We can't take them all!" She shouted, bringing the pipe down once again, hitting her mark and delivering yet another lethal blow.

Courtney looked around the shop to find some type of escape route. Her eyes froze on the storage room. The door ajar. "Get James to the storage cupboard!" She yelled running forward and stuffing her gun into her waistband. She stood by one of the shelves that blocked a window by the door. She knew it was a risk but it would buy them some time. She pushed with all her might and finally after Jeanette brought yet another dog down, the shelf fell on its side, blocking the bottom half of the door yet leaving the top exposed.