I had only Maria to assist me, her friends presumably in the process of rescuing Rebecca and Timmy.
She tried to bite Mr. Rapchuck, but he only punted her across the carpet like a soccer ball.
His grip tightened. Already I could feel my exoskeleton cracking in places where Mother had damaged earlier. Although the man probably wouldn't survive the acid from my bloody wounds, I did not doubt he had the ability to kill me first. "You have two choices. Leave now, or continue your present course of action, and I present your lifeless body to the congregation, claiming that I slayed you with the word of Jehovah."
Heroes in movies sometimes reply to things by spitting in the villain's face. The result of my effort? Well...a little more dramatic.
Mr. Rapchuck screamed as sulfuric acid ate away his skin.
"Sorry!" I blurted.
Instead of dropping me, the man just banged my head against the wall again, grinning as his hand tightened around my throat.
As I stared, trying to pull his hands away, swarms of tiny worms squirmed into his burn wounds, re-solidifying parts of his face with hundreds of stringy off white threads. "How do I look?"
I shuddered, glad I hadn't attempted to bite through his skull with my inner mouth. "Not good. Is there a real human being in there somewhere?"
Rapchuck smiled and slowly shook his head.
I clawed at his arm, but it only reformed itself with more worms.
He punched my head several times in a rapid machine-like succession.
The man probably would have kept on doing that, had the children not come running out of the bedroom.
Rapchuck dropped me like a hot stone. "You're not supposed to be out!"
I took this opportunity to slash at his chest.
Although wounded, the worms did their work, and his body reformed like I hadn't done anything. Already, the flesh of his face looked like a normal human's, the damage gone. His suit, however...
The man grabbed me around the throat again.
Newt took that opportunity to race to the door opening switch.
Rapchuck turned his head, caught between the impulse to kill me, and the impulse to grab the girl.
The deafening sound of a pistol report.
Adam stiffened, grinding his teeth together as he turned to look at his assailant: Mr. Butler, apparently recovered from...whatever had overtaken him.
"You should not have done that."
"You're done controlling me!" Dave growled.
"You are not the one to make that decision." Rapchuck raised his hand like a magician casting a spell, clenched his hand into a fist.
Dave screamed, collapsing on the floor.
The moment Mr. Butler started shooting, Newt had the door open, running out into the hallway with Timmy and Landon at her heels. Rapchuck turned his head, intending to recapture them, but I jumped and knocked him to the floor.
Only a second after I had him pinned, he hurled me across the room, then pounced on me, beating me with his fists.
Mr. Butler, appearing to have undergone another personality change, suddenly got out of the fetal position, making dolphin clicks to the man beating me.
Rapchuck pressed me to the floor, making clicking noises back to him.
"Yes, sir." Mr. Butler marched to the door, I assume to recapture the children, but the moment his hand reached for the door panel, it already opened.
In the hallway, facing the threshold, Noah and Tyrone appeared, each gripping a struggling child by the scruff of their neck.
Only two. Rebecca, to my great relief, had somehow managed to escape their clutches. I sincerely hoped she would stay hidden, instead of making a rescue attempt.
The two men pushed Timmy and Landon into Mr. Butler's hands.
"Thank you," Noah said like merely giving Dave a coat to put in the closet. "Make sure they do not escape?"
"Yes, sir." Dave dragged them back to the bedroom.
Rapchuck frowned. "What about the girl?"
"Actually," Noah said. "We do not need. Not presently. At any rate, still, she will not be difficult to find?"
Rapchuck grabbed my jaw and part of my upper mouth, attempting to tear my face open.
Noah raised a staying hand. "No need for that. We can make use of Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik alive."
A muscular young guy with a goatee and a crew cut stepped into the room, bearing a cattleprod. A stern, bony sort of brunette woman followed him, armed with a second cattleprod, and the type of shocker leash they'd used on me in the lab.
These two strangers moved deceptively fast, especially the female. In between their electric devices and the two worm infested humans, I found myself unable to escape, and when I fought back, either Noah, Rapchuck, or a human with a cattleprod would `correct' me, and soon I had the shocker leash fastened around my neck.
Meanwhile, Maria had been assisting Newt with her escape, Ruth and Aquila likewise busily attempting to free the other two children.
During the course of my struggling, a gun went off, a Ss'sik'chtokiwij shrieking in agony.
Ruth.
My heart nearly broke when Aquila rushed out of a room alone, sneezing and sniffling as she crawled into an open floor vent alone.
Mr. Rapchuck grabbed the part of the leash next to my neck, yanking up hard. "You've just been volunteered for a little parade. Don't make any sudden moves, or you'll wish you hadn't."
I got unceremoniously dragged out of the room like a rabid pit bull on a chain.
Outside the door, the crowd from Noah's place of meeting had gathered, many either staring or clapping at the spectacle. A few people in the back didn't look completely sold on the idea, perhaps because they had seen androids doing the same thing to me earlier, but these were a minority.
The people wore button shirts and t-shirts and polos, jumpsuits, dresses, jeans and slacks, reflecting their varying responsibilities and roles in the base. A few had cameras, recording video and taking pictures.
Some chanted the prayer they'd been taught. Others crossed themselves or made a five pointed star over their chest as I passed them.
I recognized one Korean man as being part of Noah's original house church. Stocky, fat faced, still wearing a tuxedo.
Briefly, we passed in front of the female singer from Noah's praise band. The woman, once clad like a normal human being, now wore a perverse sort of costume, apparently to entice Ss'sik'chtokiwij and emphasize her role as an offering to Ssorzechola:
Like a jumpsuit, but one where the neck and most of the chest lay exposed, as well as parts of the arms. The design, with its mesh armpits and vinyl pieces, had been sown together to maximize the output of sweat and other scents. A small portion of fabric remained to conceal the indecent parts of her breasts, but the V shaped opening had been cut wide enough, and deep enough, that you could see her belly button and a triangular portion of her underwear. Holes had been also cut to expose the meatier parts of her legs.
The woman had also painted a design on her face, one resembling a photo negative of a socmavaj. She'd even shaved her head.
I looked around to see if anyone had donned similar costumery, but to my relief, she seemed to be alone in her madness.
Noticing me, she half sang, half chanted her Ssorzechola hymn, rattling her tambourine.
Noah chuckled. "Behold, Portia! The Lord Jehovah is with us. Even the angels submit to us!"
She made the sign of a five pointed star across her chest, then dropped to her knees in reverence. "Stigmazas sudnohis shoatzes sqituros saewbos sogtazzi."
It seemed Noah had promised to take back the processing station that day.
Out of the forty or so people lining the hallway, only about six appeared to be actual believers, evidenced by constant chanting and song, their unbuttoned or open shirts, and strange symbols on their faces, necks, or exposed chests.
Behind me, Dave pulled along the two children, one hand clamped around each child's wrist. I supposed, if they wiggled free in that crowd, they wouldn't get far.
A few feet down the corridor, Noah called everyone to attention. Someone plugged in the microphone system, allowing him to project his voice. "We are going down to Processing Station now. Again, it is only dangerous to unfaithful, so if you are doubting, please kindly stay behind? You have been warned."
A couple people made themselves scarce, but the rest murmured and kept following.
It did resemble a parade, Noah at the lead, I, Rapchuck, and the cattleprod bearers behind him, Dave and the children behind me, with the devout trailing close behind. Quite the spectacle.
The children defense shouted and yelled for help a few times, but Landon's father just blew it off by saying, "You know how kids are. They scream their head off when they can't get what they want," as if it were nothing more dramatic than a pair of spoiled brats in a candy store.
At the rear, standing at a wary distance, I spotted Kumar and his friend Jim. No sign of little Calvin anywhere.
We processed down the narrow hallways, to the tune of their ridiculous song, repeated over and over with mindless energetic zeal that would shame a Hare Krishna. I frequently considered eating them just to stop the annoying noise.
I probably would have, too. My very presence in this procession nonverbally endorsed a religion I did not agree with. Of course, with their electric toys and unnatural strength, not much I could do.
You can understand my relief at reaching the end of the hallway, and the muddy ground beyond the large sliding pressure door.
Still rainy. The open air and the pattering of water droplets served to dampen the sound of the incessant singing, though by now they had repeated it so many times that I could hear the song, even if they only mouthed the words.
Not only I complained about the music. Besides the children, the people who followed behind us also had become quite fed up, alternating between shouting for them to be quiet, and talking loudly over them. A heavy set woman with black curly hair got especially loud in this regard, but her complaints accomplished nothing.
At long last, Noah's pilgrim throng passed the gates of the atmosphere processor, marching down the maze of catwalks to a staircase near the elevators.
At this point about a dozen people lost their nerve, remaining at the guardrails to observe our progress from a safe vantage point.
Not a bad idea. Already I spotted grown Ss'sik'chtokiwij or larva crawling up the sides of pipes and motor boxes on the sides of machinery. These humans had a better chance of escaping alive than the dumb sheep heading in.
Noah could have used the elevator, but I suppose there's safety in numbers. A couple people complained that they should have taken the elevator, but someone else said it moved too slowly.
When we had descended two floors, a pair of adolescent Ss'sik'chtokiwij watched us.
Although drooling at the sight of so many humans, especially the enticing one with the tambourine, they only craned their heads like the dog on the RCA Victor logo, probably because my imprisonment frightened them, and the song gave them a warning: "Ask for permission, or you'll be next!"
Kumar and Jim still stalked behind us.
The floor numbers went down as we descended, the ground floor entrance at Gate 10.
Considering how I could climb walls, and we had an elevator just a few feet away, I found our progress painfully slow.
Not just the stairs, the landings too. Each one, roughly the length of their housing units. People got winded and stopped too many times on those slatted floors, leaning on the machinery stations.
I felt scared for the humans, sick of the annoying song, and I began to understand the agitation a human feels when forced to stay at the house of a relative they don't get along with.
A handful of people quit following us a floor down. When we descended another staircase, more would have followed suit, but a Ss'sik'chtokiwij jumped out of hiding, attacking a straggler, and the others became hesitant to leave after that.
Our nonhuman audience grew in size, Ss'sik'chtokiwij larva adding to their number. The pilgrims became so alarmed that Noah barked, "Do not be afraid, only believe!" And then he addressed the Ss'sik'chtokiwij by saying in our tongue, "These are not for you, but Ssorzechola graciously offers the humans upstairs, who have followed us into the building."
He gestured for them to climb that way, smiling like a used car salesman. "Enjoy!"
To mine and everyone else's astonishment, the Ss'sik'chtokiwij actually took him at his word, climbing the scaffolding to the upper floors.
"You see?" Noah cried. "Your faith has driven them away!"
"You only sent them upstairs to kill everyone else," I said loudly enough for everyone to hear.
Noah only laughed. "He tests your faith. I would not listen to him, if I were you."
Rapchuck gave me an electric shock for good measure. "Stop trying to escape!" I had actually done no such thing.
We continued onward.
Someone got tired of all the walking, pushing a button to summon the elevator, but by the time the slow moving doors finally opened, everyone had reached the next floor.
The Ss'sik'chtokiwij got bolder.
On the fifth floor, one actually leapt at Portia, but Noah stood in its way, speaking in Ss'sik'chtokiwij. "These humans are Ssorzechola's. You must go to the upper floor. Those you may eat."
The adolescent had blotches like cow spots on her exoskeleton. "I was just up there. They're either gone or taken already. I must have one of yours."
Noah sighed and nodded. "Very well. But I must ask Ssorzechola first."
Calling the singers to be silent, he faced a wall, addressing it like someone was there, in my language: "Mighty Ssorzechola, this descendant of your grandmother requests one of our flock. What shall I tell them?"
He paused, as if Ssorzechola spoke to him.
"Yes, that actually makes sense."
He faced Cow Blotch. "You may have one of these," again, not in English. "But you will only take what I point at. It is part of the game. If you do not do as I say, there will be no more humans. You will never see another group this large again."
The Ss'sik'chtokiwij reluctantly nodded.
Then came the `game:'
"This Ss'sik'chtokiwij has spoken to me," Noah announced in English. "He says that he can smell the faithless in this gathering. I have implored him not to, but he will not be satisfied unless he can take one of the heathens from our midst. He hungers for a spirit and soul to devour. He cannot be dissuaded."
The Rubenesque looking woman with the curly black hair lurked near the staircase we'd just descended, smoking a cigarette, her face fixed in a permanent scowl. Sweat discolored her faded t-shirt bearing the image of a Hawaiian turtle.
A chubby man with glasses stood next to her, perhaps her boyfriend or husband.
You could tell the woman wanted to get out of there, run back to base, and the false prophet seemed to sense this. Noah pointed to her. "There! That's the one, isn't it?"
In my tongue, he added, "You can have that one."
The woman screamed as the Ss'sik'chtokiwij ripped her open, blood and bits of meat gushing through the slatted floor, to some floor below.
I tried to help, but Rapchuck jolted me with electricity.
"You must be vigilant!" Noah yelled. "You must not doubt, even for an instant! Or one will come for you next!"
The plump Korean guy from Noah's house church dropped to his knees, begging to be spared.
Noah put his hand on the man's head. "Blest are you, Moses Hong. You have chosen life! Stand with me, and you will not be harmed."
"This hardly seems sporting," the Ss'sik'chtokiwij with the dead woman remarked.
"You have no right to complain," Noah answered in like tongue.
We descended two more floors. The Ss'sik'chtokiwij seemed awed by the humans claiming they were prey for a stronger family member, or distracted by Noah's lies about there being more food upstairs.
The large Ss'sik'chtokiwij did not accept Noah's suggestion to go upstairs, so Noah again constructed a narrative. "The angel has spoken. Once more he has found unbelief among this group."
Moses, and other dedicated followers immediately dropped to their knees, chanting, "Stigmazas sudnohis shoatzes sqituros saewbos sogtazzi."
The dead woman's companion smoked nervously, sweat dripping down his glasses, possibly due to fear. The armpits of his t-shirt, depicting a bikini clad cartoon cat, looked damp. If anything, I thought he'd be picked, due to the enticing aromas.
Noah made a show of searching the faces of each and every person there, as if seeing into their soul, then picked out Kumar's friend Jim. "There." And in Ss'sik'chtokiwij, "This one you may have."
"Now wait just a damn minute!" Jim protested.
As the Ss'sik'chtokiwij leapt, Kumar tried to shoot it, but Dave let go of the children, drawing his weapon. He fired a warning shot at the ceiling. "Try it again, and I drop you."
No longer in Mr. Butler's clutches, the children ran, but another adolescent Ss'sik'chtokiwij dropped onto the staircase we'd come from, forcing them to return to the safety of the group.
I wished for anything that I could help.
Kumar turned to face Mr. Butler. The Ss'sik'chtokiwij that killed the Indian's friend tossed him aside like a rag doll, resuming its feast.
"Be glad it didn't pick you," Dave growled, confiscating Kumar's pistol.
Kumar got up from the floor, his face reflecting grief and furious anger.
Noah handed the gun back to Kumar with a smile. "This weapon cannot save you. The weapon you need now is prayer."
"Tell me something I don't know. I can only hope, if he's still in that body you're wearing, it will be enough to save the friend I once knew."
"Actually, I was always here. You just did not want to see it."
Kumar had no reply to that.
We exited on the bottommost floor, marching into Grandmother's dwelling.
The Pale Ones' spaceship had actually grown during the period of months in which the atmosphere processor had been installed. The organic metal that composed the vehicle expanding, engulfing the humans' constructs like an amoeba devouring a smaller organism. Even the staircase railing looked like part of the ship now, the corridors leading away from it nearly indistinguishable from the wrecked vehicle.
We passed through a hallway where only bits of human architecture remained visible, a railing and floor grating here, part of a ceiling someplace else.
As our group wound deeper into Grandma's place, I thought about the weapons room, and the explosives. If I only I could get a hold of some of those items...
Noah stopped when we entered the `basement,' calling for silence. "We have just entered Abode of Angels. As I look around me, I see...Not many of you are predestined to survive. This will be trial by fire." He waved his hand for dramatic emphasis. "Pray to the Lord Jehovah, the Lord Ssorzechola, that your faith is enough to save you."
The chants and singing started up with new urgency.
Hissandra's head appeared out of the darkness of a nearby tunnel. "Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik?" Her tone bore a note of astonished disbelief.
I shook my head. "This is all aunt Ssorzechola's doing."
She frowned. "I do not understand."
"She wishes to do you and Grandmother harm. These humans are her tools."
Her jaw dropped. "Mother had a sister?"
I sighed. "I do not advise speaking to her. She is no friend of Ss'sik'chtokiwij."
"So she is like you," Hissandra scoffed.
"No. She is far worse."
"This I must see."
I growled in frustration and anger. "Don't you understand, Hissandra? She wishes to kill both you and Grandmother so she can have all the humans for herself!"
"Then why did she send all these humans down?"
"It's a trap!"
"I do not believe you. Where is she?"
I refused to tell her, but Noah answered, in our language. "She is in Unit 220. You should not listen to Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik. She cares only for humans, and has killed many of your sisters, as you well know. Ssorzechola would be happy to meet you. Why don't you go up to the base and speak to her?"
"Numbers are meaningless to me," Hissandra said.
"Ah, then I will send an assistant with you."
He touched Moses on the shoulder, switching to English. "My dear faithful friend, please show this Ss'sik'chtokiwij to Unit 220."
The man's eyes widened in shock, his expression a mixture of misplaced zeal and terror. "It is an honor to serve my Lord!"
"I will instruct him not to harm you." But in Ss'sik'chtokiwij, Noah told my sister, "This human will lead you to 220. Obviously, he will be of no use to you dead, so preserve his life until then?"
Hissandra nodded. "As much as I dislike it, I have to agree."
"I think you both can communicate with gestures?" He explained a few basics, such as `Go here,' `Come,' and `No, not there,' then instructed Moses to limit his signage to these basics.
Thusly briefed, the two started off in the direction we came.
"Wait!" Landon cried. "Where is he going?"
Timmy scowled. "No place good, I'm sure."
"If he's going back, I want to come with."
"What about your dad?"
Landon shuddered. "I don't think he's my dad anymore."
"Who's not your dad?" Dave gave him an unpleasant smile.
The children backed away from him, and closer to me, since, I suppose, I happened to be the thing that be the least likely to kill them.
Being careful not to be overheard, I whispered to Timmy. "Listen to me carefully. If you want to live, you have two options. You can either run, and take your chances trying to reach the surface on your own, or you can stay by my side."
Timmy placed a trembling hand on my shell. I sniffled with emotion.
Moses disappeared down a tunnel with Hissandra, and Noah motioned the group forward.
Soon, we arrived in Grandmother's egg laying chamber, another place where humans definitely did not belong.
Grandmother had changed slightly since I had seen her last. An enormous clear sac, full of eggs, hung from her rear end, a sac with a tube-like appendage, which, from time to time, secreted a large spheroid, oozing with slime.
She snickered when she saw my electric leash. "Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik! This seems a common mode of decoration for you. Are you enjoying yourself?"
"I'm having the time of my life," I replied sarcastically.
Grandma only chuckled, peering at the gathered humans with curiosity. "Oh lovely! More dinner guests! Thank you, Sh'kassk'dwuissueblik!"
"Actually," Noah said in Ss'sik'chtokiwij. "It is I who am responsible. I bring you these humans as a gift from Ssorzechola."
"My dear daughter! Wonderful!" Grandmother crept forward, a challenging task for a Ss'sik'chtokiwij with parts fixed in a stationary position.
The faithful believers immediately dropped to their knees, bowing to Grandmother as they sang and prayed "Stigmazas sudnohis shoatzes sqituros saewbos sogtazzi" over and over again.
"What's this? Dinner theater?"
"They think it protects them," Noah explained.
Grandma burst out laughing, clapping her claws together. "It is dinner theater!"
She then sniffed the man himself. "Does this gift include yourself?"
"Naturally. I would be pleased if you consumed me, I only ask you to spare six of my most loyal followers, so that this practice can spread, and more humans be gathered and brought before you."
Staring at the large group of humans, she gave Noah a nod. "You may keep six for this purpose. Tell me, how will I know which ones they are?"
"The ones kneeling are Ssorzechola's. You may take the rest."
As if on cue, a pair of the devout rose to their feet, but Noah shook his head at them, giving them that `You may be seated' gesture pastors do in churches. They obediently returned to their knees. The rest of the crowd gawked, speechless.
Grandma grabbed Noah by the throat, drawing him up to her mouth.
She sniffed, then hurled him to the floor. "You smell wrong! You're trying to poison me!"
Noah got back on his feet, marching boldly up to her face. "It is no poison. You may safely devour me?"
She backhanded him. "Your meat is diseased! Why are you trying to deceive me?"
"I do no such thing. But as an act of good faith..."
A muscular red haired gentleman had been lurking next to a wall. Noah dragged him before Grandmother, the victim's freckled face paling as she breathed on him.
The man screamed and struggled against Noah, punching and trying hard to get away, but Noah overpowered him, ripping his plaid shirt in the process.
"Spirited," Grandmother purred. "I like it."
She rammed her claws through Mr. Freckly's back, yanking his beating heart out of his rib cage. I watched with sorrow as she popped the bloody organ into her mouth, savoring the chewy texture.
With a mouth full, she mumbled, "Tell your six to place their hands on the flaps of my eggs."
Noah relayed the orders in English. His `chosen' unthinkingly obeyed.
A seventh person, a little African man with a round head and hard bony facial features imitated them, but the rest of the crowd didn't understand, staring at the egg grabbers like they were crazy.
A pair of them (guarding me with cattleprods) did not join them, though, by their praying and tuneless singing, I could tell they wanted to. Rapchuck, looking unconcerned, did not sing either.
Grandmother made a few gurgling clicking sounds with her mouth, and socmavaj burst from a dozen eggs.
An overweight man with gray hair screamed as one affixed itself to his face. He knocked open thirteenth egg as he stumbled to the floor.
He hollered as the egg acid melted the flesh of his leg through his khakis, but the sound got muffled by the creature on his face. The displaced socmavaj from Egg 13 wiggled away from there, seeking an available victim.
A bosomy woman with ebony skin ran screaming to the exit, but the socmavaj quickly latched onto the thick bodied woman, claws digging into her tightly braided hair.
As a socmavaj came leaping out an egg near him, Kumar opened fire.
He killed it, but Mr. Butler got angry and shot the Indian in the shoulder.
Kumar attempted to fire back, but the chamber clicked empty. He dove through an archway, pressing his back against organic metal.
Another victim screamed and went down.
A balding white man attempted to deflect a leaping socmavaj with his hand, but the creature's tail whipped around his throat. Baggy eyes widened as an egg schlupped through the mouth of his slack jawed face.
Dave pushed his way past victims, forcefully dragging Kumar by his shoulders, back toward the eggs.
Using his good arm, Kumar struck him with the butt of his gun, but Mr. Butler caught hold of the gun wielding hand, squeezing until Kumar cried out in pain, dropping the weapon.
The two engaged in a prolonged fistfight while the other humans screamed and tried to save themselves.
A tiny coffee brown woman with arm tattoos attempted escape, but tripped over something on the floor, near the exit tunnel, landing right on top of an egg.
A tail shot out, snapping around her blouse. She tried to pull it off and get away, but far too late. The socmavaj already had its legs around her face and short stringy haircut.
Despite all this chaos, Rapchuck still wouldn't let go of my leash.
The fist fight kept going, Kumar knocking Dave sideways with a well placed punch.
Mr. Butler staggered backwards, bumping into an egg.
Instead of continuing to attack, Kumar fled deeper into the tunnel.
With a yell, the curly haired man in the cat shirt chased a face hugger with a knife. His attack only resulted in acid burns and impregnation.
A couple people tried to close the flaps of eggs close to them, but all for naught, as a second socmavaj would just leap from the floor, or another egg, and latch onto their faces.
True to her word, Grandmother left the kneeling humans unharmed, even a seventh man who wasn't supposed to be spared.
One socmavaj wrapped around Noah's head, but it quitted him immediately, probably for the same reason Grandma had. As a substitute, it launched itself on a weathered, gray haired man, knocking his hornrimmed glasses to the ground.
The socmavaj, being rather indiscriminate, did not appear to recognize the distinction between the crowd and the ones imprisoning me with cattleprods. Two of my captors soon screamed, desperately trying to electrocute their quick moving foes.
The shocking only served to anger the face huggers. The two humans became egg receptacles.
"Wait!" Noah protested. "Those two were among the faithful!"
Grandma shrugged. "You said only to spare the six that were kneeling."
I'm certain she did this out of pride rather than for my benefit, perhaps to show Noah that she did not need him or his deal, that she would only go through with such an arrangement on her terms.
"Daddy! No!" Landon shouted.
I whirled around. Dave had a socmavaj stuck to his face, fleshy pink legs with one hand, a tail with the other.
It seemed the socmavaj could sense the man's inner humanity, preferring him to the hollow zombie holding my leash.
Mr. Butler didn't panic or fall over like the others, rather just froze in one place, grabbing its body like a mere Halloween mask he intended to remove from his head.
A lump moved up and down his throat. It reminded me of dangerous billiard ball regurgitation tricks I'd seen in videos.
The socmavaj swelled and trembled in violent spasms.
For the first time in history, someone had actually put an egg back in a facehugger.
The creature relaxed its grip, and the man set it on the ground with the gentleness someone might show to a pet cat.
The reverse impregnated socmavaj crossed the room at a slow loping gait, like a squirrel suffering from rabies. Worms trailed from its body as it scuttled along.
The children stayed close to me, trusting that I would be able to save them, but I feared I would only disappoint. Rapchuck, after all, refused to relinquish his hold on the leash.
In fact, when I yelled and attacked a socmavaj scuttling after Timmy, strong jolts of electrical current came coursing through my neck.
Out of desperation, I spat on my claws, reaching back and slathering as much acid as I could on the clasp attached to my collar.
I received severe electrical jolts for my troubles, but, as a strong willed dog can acquire a tolerance to Invisible Fence technology, I too endured electricity, for the sake of the children.
The leash broke, and I slashed a socmavaj in half with my tail just seconds before it latched onto Landon's face.
The boy screamed as acid sprayed him, but, in all fairness, he got off lucky.
Mr. Butler dropped to his knees, confused and disoriented, like whatever evil force that had overtaken him had departed.
For a moment, he behaved like someone in shock, gazing at the eggs with a glassy stare, but then, when more socmavaj scampered towards his son, he jumped to his feet, drawing the gun. "Landon! Get down!"
He opened fire.
Rapchuck picked up a cattleprod, jolting me with it.
Landon rushed to my defense, punching my assailant in the crotch and stomach, but it only resulted in the man grabbing the boy by the throat, lifting him off his feet. The boy's face slowly changed colors.
"Get your hands off my son!" Mr. Butler shouted, slamming his fist into Mr. Rapchuck's jaw.
Rapchuck's counterattack knocked Landon's father to the floor.
A waiting socmavaj jumped out and laid its egg in David's mouth.
This time, he couldn't regurgitate it.
I looked up just in time to see the sick socmavaj crouching in front of Grandmother, winding its tail like a spring.
What happened next...utterly inconceivable.
It actually latched itself on Grandmother's face, curling its tail around her head.
Grandmother let out a muffled shriek, flailing her arms in terror.
If Ssorzechola's worms were in that socmavaj, her mad plans would soon become reality.
I rushed to her side.
"Grandma!"