If the windows had not already been shattered, I had no doubt that the concussion of the 750 grain bullet would have done the job. The enormous slug impacted the monster at nearly 2,800 feet per second. Stone fragments imbedded themselves into the seats, hot fluid sprayed the interior of the van, and I yelped in pain as some splashed on my unprotected arm. The back seats caught on fire. The gargoyle flinched as the massive chunk was torn violently from its arm. It did not, however, let go.

"Get off my van!" I had four more where that came from. I worked the heavy bolt, ejecting the smoking brass case and shoving another huge armor-piercing round into the chamber. I elevated the muzzle slightly and fired again. The gargoyle fell from the van as the second bullet pulverized its face. It pulled the rear doors clean off of their hinges. Monster and metal fell, clanking and clattering down the asphalt, pieces flying everywhere. We kept accelerating.

"Damn! That was loud!" Ray exclaimed.

"Julie, are you okay?" I shouted.

"Fine. Hang on." She pumped the brakes, and somehow managed to keep the van on the road as we careened around a corner. The van was not a sports car, but it did manage to stay on all four tires. She accelerated out of the turn. "If I can build up speed I can lose them, but the roads are too curvy. If I push it we'll end up in the trees."

"Is there a straightaway around here somewhere?"

"Son, you're in rural Alabama. Just how many straight roads do you think you're gonna find?" Ray asked rhetorically.

I swore, climbed over the center seat, and positioned myself in the back cargo space. I scanned the skies through our new gargoyle-supplied sunroof.

"I don't see them," I shouted over the roar of the wind. I held on as Julie slalomed our boxlike van around another bend. "Ray, pass me that OD green case. The stubby one," I ordered. If we couldn't outrun them, we would outfight them. I spotted a huge black spot in the clear sky, heading right for us.

There had to be some sort of explanation for how the creatures were able to fly so fast. They were huge. They were heavy. But they flew like birds. When this one folded its wings and dived, it came out of the sun like a Stuka dive bomber. I yelled a warning as I planted the rifle against my shoulder. The.50 weighed thirty-two pounds, most of that towards the muzzle. It was designed to be fired from a prone position with a bipod. I was about to use it while kneeling in the back of a wildly moving vehicle. Not the best recipe for success.