Read Online Snowblind by Michael McBride - Free Book Online Page B

preparing to shimmy through the tunnel into the mountain. Coburn shrugged the strap of his backpack off of his left shoulder, transferred his rifle to his right hand, and was just about to follow Baumann into the dark hole when he was overwhelmed by a sudden sense of dread.
    Something wasn’t right here.
    “ rrrRRaaAHHhrrr! ”
    A roar from behind him made the entire structure shiver.
    No…something was definitely not right.
    “Wait…” he said.
    Every step of the way they’d done exactly what their hunters wanted them to do.
    His backpack slid from his arm and fell to the floor with a thud.
    Baumann thrust his rifle into the tunnel and scurried in after it.
    Their pursuers had made a grand production of drawing attention to themselves with all of the roaring and grunting and movement.
    Coburn’s Remington fell from his grasp and clattered to the hard earth.
    Whatever was out there had hidden from them this entire time. The only reason they would choose to reveal themselves now would be…
    “Todd…no!”
    …if they wanted to be seen.
    Baumann kicked at the ground, propelling himself deeper into the blackness.
    They were being herded.
    Like they had been from the very start.
    “Todd! Don’t go in there! That’s what they want us to do!”
    He dove toward the sound of his old friend’s passage and managed to grab him around the ankles.
    “ rrrRRaaAHHhrrr! ”
    A deafening roar erupted from directly behind him in the small doorway leading back into dry storage.
    The sound was still echoing in his skull when it was pierced by another one. Louder. Filled with agony.
    Baumann’s scream.
    “No!” Coburn shouted.
    Baumann’s feet were wrenched from his grasp with such force that Coburn was left holding an empty pair of boots.
    The screaming grew louder even as it became more distant.
    Until it abruptly stopped.
    And silence crashed over him like the floodwaters from a broken levee.
    Thump-thump.
    Thump-thump.
    Thump-thump .
    His pulse pounded in his ears.
    The sound of someone crying far away reached him. It took a moment to realize that he was the one making the noise.
    He dropped the boots and scurried away from the hole.
    Silence.
    Darkness.
    Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump .
    He scooted backward and pressed himself up against the stone-lined wall; one egress to his left, the other to his right. He swept his trembling hand across the dirt until he found his rifle and drew it to him.
    Pull-jack-chamber-slam.
    The crack of the bolt engaging echoed into infinity.
    Again, silence.
    THUMP-thump-THUMP-thump-THUMP-thump .
    He shouldered his Remington and alternately pointed it at one hole, then the other. Mere degrees of blackness delineated them.
    An overwhelming stench. Like he had smelled right before Shore was killed. Not body odor…smegma. He had to fight back the vomit rising from his gut.
    Heavy breathing.
    His? No. Not breathing…
    Sniffing.
    Coburn held his breath.
    THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP-THUMP .
    It sounded like there was a dog in the dry storage room. No, not a dog. Something much, much larger. A bull. Deep inspiration. Savor. Sudden expulsion of air. Again. Faster. Faster still.
    Cold tears ran down Coburn’s cheeks.
    Movement to his right. More of a sensation of movement than an actual physical sight. A shadow passing through a pool of tar.
    More sniffing.
    The sound aligned with the movement—
    Coburn pulled the trigger and heard a wet spatter a millisecond before the report nearly deafened him. In such close quarters, the noise caused physical pain.
    “ rrrRRaaAHHuhh-rughrrr-gluttle! ”
    An earsplitting roar knifed through the ringing. Guttural. Gurgling.
    Pull-jack-chamber-slam.
    He felt warmth soaking through his boots as he fed more bullets from his pocket into his magazine and pulled his knees closer to his chest.
    “ rrrRRaaAHHhrrr! ”
    Something slapped at the ground in front of him. Frantic. It brushed against his foot. He managed to tuck his legs even more tightly to him. A