She pulled out a club and beat it on the ground until the head twisted off, leaving a somewhat bent, high-tensile-strength shaft with a jagged end.

  Deep breath.

  Insane!

  Deep breath.

  Hero time!

  Gripping the pointy club, she raced straight at the creature, sighted the gap between two hard plates that formed part of his right lower calf, just above where his Achilles tendon would be if he had such a thing, and with all her considerable might, with a power driven by shocking speed, Shade leaped and stabbed the shaft deep into the red marrow. She bounced off the creature and to her relief felt no pain—it was like quickly touching an iron to test its heat.

  Sparks flew but they flew too slowly to reach her.

  The monster was as hot as the center of a volcano, hot enough to melt lead and copper bullets, but it was not hot enough to melt the golf club’s titanium shaft.

  The monster’s next step was a stumble, and while it was still plowing forward trying to catch its balance, Shade grabbed a second club and plunged it into a narrow gap on the top of its opposite foot.

  And then the magma beast . . . fell!

  It fell directly toward a policeman, who stared up, paralyzed with horror.

  Shade ran, grabbed the policeman, and shoved him out of the way, snapping ribs like twigs, but better that than being crushed. Too late she saw a policewoman still in her patrol car, and the magma creature crashed down on her like a rock slide, sending up showers of sparks and smoke. Shade heard a desperate cry, quickly annihilated.

  The monster was fast on his feet, but not so fast at standing up. He disentangled himself from the police car, crushed to half its normal height. A burning hand stuck out from the crumpled windshield. The beast stared quizzically at the two small shafts and pulled them out like they were splinters.

Monster, Chapter 22