Chương 15: Not From the Speaker

Jack reached the glass door with the handgun in his grip and scanned the red sand outside. Nothing yet. No Red Sand Badgers. But the countdown had already started, and sweat was gathering in his palm. The gun was useful. His aim, less so. If he wanted any chance of making it through this, he had to throw them off first—confuse them, scare them, and ideally make them fall into the pit before they ever reached the store. That was when an old memory clicked into place.

A while back, he had downloaded a long recording of hawk calls and played it through a Bluetooth speaker to scare off the pigeons that kept camping out around the store. Whether Red Sand Badgers cared about hawks was another question. At this point, Jack was willing to find out.

"Screw it. Let's see what happens." Jack ran upstairs, grabbed his phone and the Bluetooth speaker from the second floor, then hurried back to the entrance. He opened the door just long enough to set the speaker outside against the wall and connect it to his phone. As soon as that was done, he ducked back into the store and shut the door again. But that still was not enough. Vane had said Red Sand Badgers hated loud noises. Using the gun would waste bullets.

He needed something louder, more sudden, and with a wider effect. Jack charged into the storage room and started tearing through the clutter. He checked under the shelves, dug through the junk boxes, and kicked aside a plastic bin in the corner. Rolls of tape, old wires, and a mess of random holiday supplies spilled across the floor. Jack was just about to curse when his gaze caught on something. In the corner, buried under the mess, was a whole unopened pack of firecrackers.

"Oh, hell yes." He grabbed the firecrackers, shoved a lighter into his pocket, and ran back toward the door. Just as he reached the entrance, he stopped again. Jack turned and looked toward the freezer. Scaring them was not enough. It would be even better if he could lure them into the pit first. A few minutes later, Jack returned to the door holding several chunks of frozen meat. He took a deep breath.

"Here goes nothing." Jack pushed the door open and bolted outside with the frozen meat. At the edge of the pit, he dumped everything in and ran back before he could think too hard about what he was doing. He had barely shut the glass door behind him when the system spoke.

"Targets have entered visual range." Jack looked outside at once. At the edge of the distant sand dune, ten reddish-brown figures were charging toward the convenience store. Jack swallowed and pressed the play button on his phone. A sharp hawk cry burst from the speaker outside the door. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. The Red Sand Badgers' charge broke apart at once. The two in front skidded to a stop.

The ones behind slammed into them, turning the whole group into a tangle of reddish-brown bodies and snapping jaws. Several jerked their heads up, ears twitching as they searched for the source of the cry. One bolted sideways for several yards before stopping short and dropping its nose to the sand, sniffing wildly. For one glorious second, Jack just stared.

"It worked." Then the second passed. The Red Sand Badgers were already recovering. The Red Sand Badgers staggered for a few more moments, but the panic was already draining out of them. One by one, their heads lowered again. Their noses worked over the sand, following the scent back toward the store. The hawk cries still screamed from the speaker. The badgers no longer cared.

"Oh, come on. That only bought me a few seconds?" Jack snatched up the firecrackers, lit the fuse, and hurled the whole string outside. The firecrackers hit the sand and bounced once, smoke hissing from the fuse. Then the first crack split the air. A rapid burst of explosions followed, sharp and dense, like a string of tiny gunshots going off across the sand. The Red Sand Badgers had barely recovered before the firecrackers threw them back into chaos. Two of them were already near the edge of the pit.

The sudden cracks sent them twisting sideways, and both tumbled over the rim in a spray of sand. A third tried to brake too late, claws gouging deep lines into the crumbling edge before its hind legs slipped out from under it. Sharp cries rose from the bottom of the pit, followed by frantic scraping. Jack stayed behind the glass door, watching with his breath held. For one brief moment, he thought the opening had finally come. Then the badgers in the pit stopped. Their heads snapped toward the same spot. The meat.

The frozen chunks had already begun to thaw under the heat, and the smell of blood and raw flesh was spreading through the bottom of the pit. Even through the smoke and the last few bursts of firecrackers, the Red Sand Badgers locked onto it almost instantly. The first one lunged. The other two followed. Above them, the remaining badgers froze along the rim. Their noses twitched. Their bodies went tense. The firecrackers were still popping across the sand, but the meat had already stolen their attention.

One jumped down. Another followed. Then another. Within moments, the bottom of the pit was packed with reddish-brown bodies. All ten were down there. They crowded around the meat, tearing and snapping at it, growls mixing with the scrape of claws against sand until the pit turned into a writhing mess. Behind the glass door, Jack's heart hammered against his ribs. This was it. Jack moved before he could talk himself out of it. He grabbed the handgun, shoved the door open, and burst outside.

Firecracker smoke still stung the air. He ran to the edge of the pit, lifted the gun with both hands, and aimed at the writhing mass below. Then he pulled the trigger. Bang! Bang! Bang! He emptied the magazine in one breath. The last gunshot had barely faded before the pit erupted. The Red Sand Badgers scattered from the meat in a frenzy, slamming into one another and clawing for the walls. Sand poured down around them as their claws tore through the loose slope, turning the bottom of the pit into a writhing mess.

Jack did not wait to see what happened next. He ran. Faster than when he had thrown the meat. The handgun was empty. If even one Red Sand Badger climbed out and charged him, he was not sure he could get the door shut in time. He sprinted back into the convenience store, slammed the glass door shut, and sagged against it, gasping for breath. It took him a while before he could make himself look outside again. The pit was still in chaos.

Several Red Sand Badgers had already clawed their way out and were stumbling across the sand, no longer interested in the meat. Others scrambled over the far side and scattered the moment they hit open ground. Two were moving badly. One dragged a hind leg behind it, nearly collapsing after every few steps. Another fled with dark blood staining the reddish-brown quills along its side. Jack stayed pressed against the door and counted. One. Two. Three. … Nine. Only nine made it out.

Jack stayed pressed against the door for another few seconds, staring at the pit. One reddish-brown shape still had not moved.

"Did I actually hit one?" His pulse kicked up again, but he still did not open the door right away. He reloaded first, then waited until the last fleeing Red Sand Badger had disappeared beyond the dunes. Only then did he step outside. The dead Red Sand Badger lay at the bottom of the pit, half-buried in loose sand. Dark blood had soaked into the ground around it. Jack stood at the edge and kicked a small stone down. It bounced once, struck the badger's side, and rolled away. No reaction.

Jack finally let out the breath he had been holding. It was dead. Actually dead. For a moment, he just stood there, staring. Ten Red Sand Badgers had come for revenge. He had killed one and sent the other nine running. Sure, the whole thing had been messy. Terrifying. Possibly the least heroic victory in human history. But it was still a victory. A laugh was already rising in his throat when a sharp cry split the air above him. Jack went still. The sound was high. Clear. Alive.

And it had not come from the Bluetooth speaker beside the door.