Tierant - Shredded apart

“Here! Use this!”

Claire spun, saw that Mr. X was positioning itself for its killing strike—and saw the silhouette high
above, on the walkway over the train. A woman’s voice, a woman’s shape, the shadowed figure
throwing something—

· Who?

—that clattered across the concrete, landing be-tween her and Mr. X. It was metal, it was
silver—she’d seen them in movies, it was a machine gun—and Claire ran for it. Another final hope,
another chance, however slim, that she and Sherry would survive.

She reached the weapon, dropped, saw X pushing itself toward her, the thunder of its steps shaking the
ground and she scooped up the heavy gun, kicking against the floor and rolling onto her back, her shaking
hand finding the trigger, her body moving to accommodate the weapon. Stock on the ground, arms
twisted around the cold metal, aiming—

· Please... Please...

The monster was only a step away when the spray of bullets crashed out of the gun, a clattering, rattling
string of tiny explosions that shook Claire’s entire body—and whammed into the gut of the beast, the
sheer force of so many rounds stopping it in mid-stride—and pushing it back.

· Tattatattatatta—

She felt the vibrating metal trying to shake itself free of her grip, so she held it tighter, the butt of the
weapon tapping against the floor at a manic pace. The bullets were still pounding into the creature’s
abdomen, so fast and so many that she couldn’t hear her own gasping cries of fury and pain and
exaltation.

Mr. X was trying to move forward, but a strange thing was happening, a strange and beautiful
thing. Its gut was being shredded by the endless stream of rounds, its midsection gaining depth and
texture, black fluids coursing down its lower half from the ragged, growing wound. X’s mouth was open,
an empty hole like its eye socket—and like the socket, thick liquid was pouring out, obscuring its pitiless
face.

· Tattatattatat—

Claire held on, directing the hail, watching the creature try to stand against the pulsing, crashing spray.
Watching it bleed. Watching as it seemed to—condense, its massive body crumpling, its torso sinking
down.

The bullets still flying, Mr. X raised its arms—

-and split in two.

Claire took her finger off the trigger as X’s upper body toppled to the cement, a wet slap of heavy meat,
and its legs collapsed, falling to one side, more strange blood gushing from both halves. Pools of shiny
black grew around the massive pieces of its broken body, forming stinking puddles.