Omen Operation by Taylor Brooke

its throat to a bare chest. Dark charcoal lines fanned out over its torso like broken glass, mimicking the image of veins.
    The creature was bruised. Its jaw clattered and clanked together, grinded back and forth.
    Julian fished around inside the backpack and tossed Porter a gun. Gabriel jumped forward and almost tripped to get in front of Brooklyn.
    There were two more. They came running in behind the first, howling and screeching. They cackled like a pack of hyenas, blood-thirsty and crazed.
    “Angel,” one of the creatures spat as they took a step toward Gabriel, “angel, the angel, the angel.”
    “If we run, they’ll follow us,” Porter said and took aim.
    “We only brought one gun!” Brooklyn heaved in breath after breath as they all took quick steps backward toward the double doors at the front of the theater.
    “You don’t need a gun!” Porter yelled.
    Brooklyn’s eyes were wide. She stared over her shoulder at Porter who ducked down and fired a shot at the one in the middle.
    The creature looked confused as the bullet tore a hole through its stomach. The thing didn’t bother looking down at its wound, but instead staggered forward, eyes pointed accusingly at Porter.
    “What do you mean I don’t need a gun?” Brooklyn screeched.
    Porter shouted, “Fight them! You’re stronger! Fight! ”
    She was frozen. The three beings in front of them moved like they were broken, quick and sharp. Their legs snapped forward. The one to the left, focused on Julian, opened its mouth, jaw sliding back and forth as tar-like saliva coated its lips. It looked like a woman. All Brooklyn could think about was the evening of her winter dance. How petrified she had been. How brave she had been.
    “Get behind Porter,” Gabriel huffed, shoving Brooklyn backward with her arm.
    Brooklyn didn’t have time to protest. Gabriel launched forward and cocked her leg back, kicking the oncoming creature in the chest.
    Julian was scrambling to dodge the flailing arms of the one on the left as it tried to grab him.
    Porter fired another shot.
    Brooklyn shrank back until she felt a hand latch over her shoulder. Warm, putrid breath dampened her cheek. The bony hand on her jacket was moist with sweat. She gasped when it gripped harder; swinging a clenched fist, Brooklyn knocked the tall, bulky creature back. Its whole body shook. The sound of its teeth gnashing together made her want to wretch.
    “Move!” Porter yelled. “Brooklyn, move to the right!”
    It was hard to focus on his words when she was falling to the ground, trying to kick the creature’s legs out from underneath it. The gun went off, and the creature turned. Its eyes, soaked in the same onyx liquid that they all seemed to share, stared at Porter. That creature, whoever or whatever it was, looked completely taken aback.
    Seconds later, Gabriel’s lean figure ran by in a blur. Her palms hit the ground; she vaulted herself into the air, legs wrapped tight around the creature’s face. She twisted and the sound of a strangled growl was followed by a loud snap.
    There was only one left. Its hands were around Gabriel’s throat before she could regain her footing.
    It was the same feeling from the kitchen that swelled inside Brooklyn—the same instinct that drove her to kill, to shove a knife under that woman’s chin all those months ago. That primal urge was what made Brooklyn place her hands against either side of the creature’s head and twist.
    Its body hit the ground. Brooklyn looked across from her, and was staring into Gabriel’s wide green eyes.
    Gabriel clawed at her throat to make sure everything was intact.
    Brooklyn turned in a quick circle and found Julian slumped against the wall beside Porter, trying to catch his breath.
    Three dead bodies littered the floor of the old movie theater lobby. The smell of their blood was rotten and sour.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Eight
     
     
    Porter’s hands were on Brooklyn’s hips. He turned her to face