Shea's heart leapt at the sight of the overhang where they planned to make their stand. The space carved into the side of the hill created a large hollow that was easily defensible.
Reaching it, the men spun around, placing the overhang at their back and facing their enemy. Shea, Eamon and Buck did the same, holding their weapons at the ready and watching as the last of their party came into view.
"Come on, you lot," Eamon shouted. "Get into position."
Sweat dripped down Shea's forehead, and she urgently wished for something to drink. A rustle of bushes caught her eyes. She watched as shadows snaked through the trees.
She screamed, "Run."
Revenants burst from the trees, latching onto legs and dragging their prey, screaming, back into the shadows.
"Don't break formation," Perry roared as several men moved toward their fallen comrades. "Grieve later. Raise your sword and avenge your comrades."
There was a long drawn out scream that only broke long enough for the man to draw breath.
"Why don't they kill him?" Clark asked.
"Intimidation," Shea said, scanning the trees for movement. "They're trying to get in your head and scare you. It's not easy listening to a person you know being eaten alive."
"How many do you think are out there?" a man asked.
"Fifty, maybe more," Eamon said.
"Here they come."
Revenants crept from the cover of the underbrush, their heads lowered and teeth gleaming white as they darted up to the line of men, testing their defenses. They wove back and forth, avoiding the slash of steel.
"Stay on line," Perry screamed as several men started to rush to meet the revenants.
"Come on, you demon spawn," a man shouted on their left.
The revenant tormenting him slunk back and then lunged, never coming into range, and letting out an eerie cackle when the man hacked at him uselessly.
"Where are the rest?" Shea asked, softly.
There were only ten or fifteen of the beasts in the clearing with them. From what she knew of the beasts, they enjoyed fresh prey and wouldn't miss this, especially after their pack mates had been slain.
So, where were the rest?
A set of teeth closed around her boot, yanking her feet out from under her and dragging her off the line. It shook its head fiercely, trying to get at the skin beneath the leather. She kicked at it with her other foot, the blow glancing off its head but not deterring it at all. She'd dropped her blade when it grabbed her, and her hands scrabbled at the dirt searching for a weapon.
Getting nowhere with her boot, it dropped her leg and lunged at her torso. She raised her hands protecting her face and neck. A blade pierced its eye, freezing it in its tracks. Shea followed the blade to Eamon who planted a boot in its side, pushing it off his sword.
"Stop wool gathering. I don't have time to be babysitting," he snapped, keeping a watchful eye out as Shea climbed to her feet.
She turned to get back on line, glancing up as she did. Her eyes widened in disbelief at the revenants amassing on the ledge above. They were preparing to jump on the men below.
Guess she'd found where the rest of the little bastards went.
She pointed up, yelling, "Behind you. Cover your backs."
As if on cue, half the men pivoted while the rest stepped forward swinging their blades to meet the ones on the ground. Arrows flew, picking several of the revenants above off, but there were too many.
Shea swung her sword as one leapt, catching it in the throat. It went limp as it landed, taking her back to the ground. She cursed and wiggled out from under its dead weight. An ululating cackle sounded to her right. She pushed harder as another revenant peered around its dead companion. The weight on her doubled as its saliva dripped onto her face.
She whimpered, her hand creeping to her waist and pulling her dagger. The beast leapt, and she brought her arm up. It screeched as it buried itself mouth first on the blade. She angled the dagger into the soft tissue of its palate and then into its brain.
Great, now she was pinned under two of the damn beasts.
The sounds of battle continued around her as she grunted and shoved her way out from under the dead revenants. Bit by bit, she shifted the combined weight until she was finally free.
She reclaimed her sword and looked at the carnage. Bodies, both revenant and man littered the ground, and the previously tight lines had degenerated into a free for all as men defended as best they could.
This wasn't going according to plan, but that was the way life went out here. You start with one idea and then something happens that totally fucks everything up.
Eamon, Buck and Clark had formed a group and were fighting the beasts as a unit, relying on each other to watch the other's back against the devious things. It looked surprisingly effective as they killed one beast after another.
Shea turned her head, looking around the clearing. There had to be something that might make a difference. She reviewed what she knew of the beasts. They were pack animals and might or might not be afraid of fire. Not that it mattered, because she had no way to make fire.
Shapes moved in the trees beyond the clearing. Darting in and out of shadows with only the occasional reflection of light glinting off their eyes. She'd thought this was the entire pack.
She'd been wrong.
As the humans fought the beasts in front of them, the rest waited until their prey had spent its strength and thought victory was close at hand.
"Back, back. Reform the lines," Shea screamed.
It was a lost cause. Shea knew that even as the words left her mouth. The fury of battle had left the men disorganized and slow to react. Even as some tried to fight their way to place their backs against the cave mouth, the remaining revenants surged forward, cutting them off while their pack brothers streamed from the trees.
Shea felt her breath still in her lungs as the revenants formed a black wave against the ground. There must be nearly a hundred. It was going to be a massacre.
Men streamed past her to form hasty lines. Eamon appeared at her side, his eyes wild with adrenaline, and his teeth bared in a macabre smile. Buck let out a loud war holler right beside her and raised a weapon coated nearly black from the beasts' blood.
"Tough fuckers, aren't they?" Buck yelled.
Eamon's eyes glinted as he leaned slightly forward, anticipating the impact from the revenants sprinting towards them.
"Don't mind him, boy," Buck said, without taking his eyes from the beasts. "When he gets in battle mode he gets fixated and doesn't talk."
Shea hadn't been concerned much about Eamon's silence but rather about their current problem.
"They'll write stories of this battle."
Shea's eyebrows flew up. "Only if someone survives to tell it."
Buck chuckled even as he swung his sword down in a two handed chop severing the head of a leaping revenant.
After that, they were too busy to talk as they hacked and sliced at any body that came near. Clark joined their little group and, together, they rotated constantly, protecting each other's backs.
Shea lost count of how many revenants had attacked and been turned back. Her arms felt like lead weights and each time she lifted her sword it got harder and harder to lift it again.
She fell into a rhythm, lift, slash, lift. Again and again. Until she reached a lull in the fighting. She looked up and realized she was all alone. The others were several feet away.
Between her and them a revenant lifted his head from his latest prey. Blood dripped from his face as he stared at her. He was huge, bigger than any other revenant in the pack and had scars all over his sides and legs, an ugly looking slice on his muzzle and another next to his eye where his enemy had missed.
The monster lowered his head, his lips pulling back in a crazy grin as if to say come and get me. He leapt over his snack. Nearly two hundred pounds of pure muscle barreled into her.
She protected her body with one arm, feeling the pressure of his fangs against the cloth and leather, and stabbed into his side with her other hand. Blood coated her hand as she pulled it away and stabbed again. It had little effect on the beast as he snapped his head side to side nearly tearing her arm from the socket.
She screamed at the pain and sunk the blade in again. A hand caught hers and guided the blade below the ribs then helped her plunge it in deeper, finding the heart and giving the blade a twist.
The light faded from the revenants eyes as his body softened on top of hers.
Hands grabbed the revenant and lifted it off her.
Shea blinked dumbly at the dead beast. Barely able to process that she wasn't dead. That somehow she was still breathing. Her arm throbbed. It was good to be alive, to feel pain.
Blood and gore coated her from head to toe. It was in her hair, on her face, ground into her clothes. She looked like someone had slaughtered a dozen pigs right on top of her.
"On your feet, warrior," a voice above her barked.