***
“They’re coming!” Deidre cried. She squeezed off a round from McCoy’s 9mm and a Sluagh hit the ground dead, its body reverting to its former human form.
The Sluagh had finally destroyed all of the poppets, but at a great cost to their numbers. Between the poppets and the battle with the demon, perhaps twenty to thirty of the evil fairies remained. With McCoy and Amanda gone, it was left up to John and Deidre to protect the Barachecks and destroy what remained of the horde. With the ammo that they had, it was going to be a tall order.
“Keep behind us,” John told the father and daughter. He looked toward the spot where McCoy and Amanda had gone, but he couldn’t really see anything in the gloom. Shapes, maybe, but it was difficult to tell what was happening.
“Can you make them go away?” Deidre asked Cynthia.
The young woman shook her head. “They won’t listen to me now. I’ve betrayed them. They’ll kill me just as quickly as the rest of you.”
“No one’s going to die,” Baracheck assured his daughter.
“I hope you’re right,” John said. He fired a round from his shotgun and managed to take down two of the Sluagh.
“How’s your ammo holding out?” Deidre asked.
“I’m down to six shots, I think. Maybe five. You?”
“One clip after this one.”
“Make them count, then.”
They eased backwards, across the field and toward the road. The Sluagh followed at a respectful distance, since they had seen that the humans’ weapons could actually kill them. John had hoped that since there were so few of them left they might flee back into the woods, but the little fairies seemed to be more determined than ever.
“Which way?” Baracheck asked when they reached the road. “Back to the truck or back toward town?”
“Neither,” John replied. “We don’t know if we could get the truck started. And McCoy and Amanda are out there somewhere. We’re not leaving without them.”
“So we just stand here and wait for them to attack us?”
John looked at the sky, which was beginning to brighten along the eastern horizon.
“What will they do when the sun rises?” he asked Cynthia.
She shrugged. “They want blood. I don’t think the light will stop them.”
“I wish we had that other shotgun,” Deidre said.
“So do I,” John agreed. “I lost it in the excitement. Maybe McCoy or Amanda has it, I don’t know.”
“There’s a fog rising,” Baracheck said, indicating the field. “I don’t like it.”
John looked out over the field. Sure enough, a white mist was blowing in rapidly from the direction of the woods. It was covering the field too quickly to be a natural occurrence.
“Something’s happening,” he whispered.
The Sluagh seemed to sense it too. They repeatedly glanced behind them, and they began to chatter amongst themselves in hushed but urgent tones.
“We should go,” Baracheck said.
John shook his head stubbornly. “I told you, we’re not leaving without the others. McCoy’s the only reason we’ve made it this far. I’m not going to leave him behind.”
Suddenly the argument became moot. The Sluagh, having come to some mutual agreement between themselves, charged the group. The deputies, caught off guard, were slow to raise and fire their weapons. Nonetheless, between the two of them they were able to drop nearly a dozen more of the creatures before they reached the group.
They went for Deidre first, avoiding John because of his size. Several of them managed to get under her feet and trip her up, sending her tumbling to the pavement. She struck her head on the hard surface and went limp.
One of then climbed on her chest and went for her exposed throat, but in a single stride John was there. He grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and pulled it off the fallen woman. It turned on him, clawing and biting, but then it seemed to get a whiff of something. Its expression went from rage to bewilderment and then, finally, to terror. Instead of trying to attack John, it began to struggle to get away from him.
John gripped the Sluagh tightly as it tried desperately to escape. Suddenly, a purplish fire sprang from his hands and engulfed the terrified creature. It gave a final wail as the flames consumed it, then it fell from John’s grasp. It hit the ground, little more than charred flesh and bones.
John stared dumbly at his hands. The fire was gone. The remaining Sluagh regarded him with awe and horror. Almost as one, they turned tail and scurried back up the road, away from town.
“Fairy fire!” Cynthia gasped, her expression unbelieving. She looked at John. “You’re Fey!”
John shook his head violently. “No!” he said. “I don’t know what that was, but I’m not anything! I’m just me!”
“You wield the fire!” Cynthia insisted. She shrank back against her father, who was eying John with suspicion.
John took a step toward them, palms out, and they both retreated. Baracheck defensively pulled his daughter closer.
“You’ve got to believe me,” John pleaded. “I don’t know what that was, but it’s never happened before. I’m as human as you. I grew up here, went to school. I’m not a monster!”
Cynthia looked into his eyes and seemed to relax a little. “Maybe not a monster,” she said. “But not human, either. Not fully.”
“It’s not possible,” John said, still looking down at his hands.
“Did you know your parents?” Baracheck asked. “You weren’t adopted, were you?”
“Adopted? No. My mother passed away several years ago, but my Dad still lives in town. Over on Greene Street. He’s as normal as anyone, and so was my Mom.”
“Still,” Cynthia said, “you have the fire. Humans don’t.”
John shook his head again. He didn’t have any answers. He didn’t feel any different than he had five minutes ago, other than being scared to death.
Deidre let out a low moan. John turned to her, cursing himself for having forgotten about his fallen comrade. He rushed to her side just as her eyes flitted open.
“Ow, my head,” she mumbled. She looked up at John. “What did I miss?”
John turned and looked at Baracheck and Cynthia, his eyes pleading.
“Nothing, really,” Baracheck said. “They were attacking, then something scared them off. Don’t know what.”
John shot the man a look of gratitude. He didn’t want anyone to know about this, least of all the people he worked with.
“Think you can walk?” he asked Deidre. “We need to find the others.”
“I think so. Anyone know where they are?”
As if in answer, an unearthly scream split the early morning silence.
It had come from the mist-shrouded field.