Chapter 5

Just as the barricade was in danger of becoming completely overrun, the army arrived.

“Who’s in charge here? I’m Colonel Dwight Holleran and my orders are to take control of this Major Emergency,” announced the leader, as his men started to deploy.

“I’m Sheriff Embry and you’re welcome to it. We’re being overrun and I’ve lost a lot of good men. Is this all you’ve brought? You’re going to need heavy artillery against these things.”

The Colonel grimaced. “The roads are packed with people fleeing town. We had a devil of a job getting even these few men through. We’ve got some heavier stuff en route but God knows how long it will take to get here.”

The Colonel and Sheriff watched as yet another valiant Deputy was snatched up and devoured by the weirdos.

“Have you any useful intel?” asked the Colonel. “Have you managed to kill any or even slow them down?

“One dead. It ate a grenade. Shooting off tentacles slows them down a bit but doesn’t kill them. You can knock them over but they get straight back up.”

“Okay, call your men back and give them a break,” said the Colonel.

The soldiers quickly found they were faring no better than the police.

“Sir,” said a Private, approaching and saluting the Colonel. “The truck I came in had an old-fashioned bazooka in the gun safe. I believe it’s still functional.”

“Private, you’re a lifesaver. Do you know how to use it?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Then you have a go.”

The Private scampered off, collecting a colleague along the way, and the two returned carrying a box containing the bazooka and some grenades.

“Christ, that fucking thing looks like World War Two issue,” muttered the Colonel, mostly to himself but just about loud enough for the Sheriff to hear. “Why the hell wasn’t it decommissioned decades ago?”

“Just be thankful it wasn’t,” chuckled Sheriff Embry.

The Private shouldered the bazooka and looked to the Colonel for instructions.

“Fire at that bastard in front,” said the Colonel. “It’s already eaten one of our men.”

The Private aimed and fired. At such short range, he couldn’t really miss. There was a spectacular explosion as the grenade impacted the weirdo, and the weirdo was sent flying. Spontaneous cheering arose from the soldiers and the watching police deputies.

Then the weirdo got back up, tentacles writhing furiously, making a noise like steam hissing.

“At least it slows them down a bit,” said Sheriff Embry consolingly. “It bought us some more time to evacuate people. How many grenades have you got left?”

“Five left,” said the Colonel glumly.

The weirdos resumed their advance, unperturbed that they were facing the army now rather than the police.