Call Me Ishmael

Chapter 23

Author's Note: Check with your physician before beginning any exercise program.  You can buy this book at Amazon, B&N, and at Smashwords for any other device.

As it turned out, Finnie did not need a weapon.  I learned in that moment that Finnie, herself, was a weapon.  Not just her fingernail; that was only the most obvious thing about her.  Her every sinew, muscle, bone, and thought, was weaponized and ready to deal with whatever danger she encountered.

She pulled the creature's index finger as high toward her head as she was able.  I held my breath.  There were now three fingers around her slim, perfectly formed waist, and I could just see the hairy thumb.  With one smooth, terrifying motion, Finnie snapped the finger back.  She did not snap it back as far as it would go.  She snapped it back farther than it would go; much farther.  She nearly tied that finger in a knot, and I know we all heard the loud pop as something deep inside fractured. 

The beast shrieked, and opened his ape-like hand.  Finnie dropped to what would have been the floor if the house were upright.  Her gown billowed delicately about her, and she landed crouched on one leg, the other poised behind her.  She looked ready to spring in any direction.

She did not pause for me to examine her pose more closely, although that would have been okay with me.  Instead, she put us into action.

"Come on," she said, "That's one upset monster out there."

The beast's roars progressed instantly from screams of pain to howls of fury, and the walls began to shudder from his blows.  One-handed, I guessed.

"I agree with you, Finnie," Niles said, "And I think King Kong may actually be on his way in.  Let's vacate the premises, post haste."

There was one other window at the far end of the room we were in, and we ran for it.  I dodged a few pictures and sconces on the wall, and there were numerous pieces of ruined furniture.  Niles, however, was correct; the gorilla, or giant bear with ape-like fingers, or Bigfoot, or whatever it was, was on its way into the building.  It ripped the far wall apart, and shoved its ugly face through the opening, snarling and gnashing its teeth.  Every second another bit of house came hurtling toward us, and it was clear he would be in with us, or us out with him, in a few twinklings of an eye. 

Finnie was in the lead, and I was close behind her.  Her gown moved like a cloud around her perfect form, and in any other circumstance, it would have been a pleasure just to watch her run.  As things were, it was hard to take the time to appreciate the finer things.  Splice and Niles were behind me, and Niles was having trouble.  I could not tell if he twisted his ankle, or if he caught his foot in something, or if he simply lost his boat-shoe.

He fumbled on his knees, and cried, "Leave me!  Oh, dash it all, please don't; is what I mean!"

Finnie paused at the window and motioned me through.  I pulled it sideways, which should have been up, and climbed out.  There was about a five-foot drop into a tangled jungle of vines and creeper.  Splice was right behind me.  I waited for Finnie, but Niles fell through first.

"She threw me!" he complained, "Finnie just jolly picked yours truly up, and threw me!"

I heard fabric tearing, and Finnie dropped beside us.  She carried the curtain from the window.

"What's that for?" I asked.

"I really like this pattern."

Somehow, we had been transported from the dry, desert wastes of the Swarm-dimension, to a hot, humid jungle.  The politically-correct, fashionable term may be rain-forest.  But this was a jungle, plain and simple.  It was an impenetrable forest, not a pleasant land full of charming people living in harmony with their environment, singing morning songs with parrots and munching on those insects whose poisonous secretions only exist to cure human diseases.  It was a jungle; and although I sensed the presence of a sun, somewhere, it was so dark we could barely see the trunks of the giant, slime-covered trees.  A thousand eyes stared from the undergrowth in any direction, but as soon as I managed to focus on them, they vanished.  I heard a thousand sounds I had never heard before, and any one of them, alone, would have been enough to move the rating of a PG-13 movie to an R.  They were ghastly.  And behind us, but closing the gap, was a seventeen-foot tall beast with a broken finger who wanted to discuss the matter.