Monsters of Men Read Free Page A

back if I were you,” the Mayor calls to me–
    I pull a little on Angharrad’s reins–
    But my eyes are still on the battle and the men running cross the clearing in front of me and the men behind ’em ready to do the same and more men behind them–
    And me and the Mayor waiting at the back of the pack–
    “AIM!” screams Mr Hammar with his voice and his Noise–
    I turn Angharrad and ride back to the Mayor–
    “Why ain’t they firing ?” I say as I get close–
    “Who?” the Mayor says, still studying the Spackle. “The men or the enemy?”
    I look back–
    Mr Hammar’s not fifteen metres from the horned creacher–
    Ten–
    “Either one,” I say–
    Five–
    “Now, this, ” says the Mayor, “should be interesting.”
    And we see the Spackle on the horned creacher bring the two torches together behind the u-shaped thing–
    And WHOOMP!
    An exploding, spilling, tumbling, churning flood of fire looking for all the world like the rushing river beside it comes whooshing out of the u-shaped thing, way bigger than looks possible, expanding and growing and eating the world like a nightmare–
    Coming right for Mr Hammar–
    Who pulls his horse hard to the right–
    Leaping outta the way–
    But too late–
    The fire swoops round him–
    Sticking to Mr Hammar and his horse like a coating–
    And they’re burning burning burning as they try to ride away from it–
    Riding straight for the river–
    But Mr Hammar don’t make it–
    He falls from the burning saddle of his burning horse–
    Hitting the ground in a jerking pile of flame–
    Then lying still as his horse disappears into the water–
    Screaming and screaming–
    I turn my eyes back to the army–
    And see that the men on the front line don’t got horses that’ll carry ’em outta the way–
    And the fire–
    Thicker than normal fire–
    Thicker and heavier–
    Cuts thru ’em like a rockslide–
    Eating the first ten men it touches–
    Burning ’em up so fast you can barely hear ’em scream–
    And they’re the lucky ones–
    Cuz the fire spreads out–
    Sticking to the uniforms and the hair–
    And the skin–
    And my God the skin of the frontline soldiers off to each side–
    And they fall–
    And they burn–
    And they scream like Mr Hammar’s horse–
    And they keep on screaming–
    Their Noise rocketing up and out over the Noise of everything else–
    And as the blast of fire finally dissipates and Mr Morgan is yelling “FALL BACK!” to the front lines of soldiers and as those soldiers are already turning and running but firing their rifles as they go and as the first arrows from the Spackle bows start arcing thru the air and as the other Spackle raise their white sticks and flashes come outta the ends and the men hit by the arrows in the back and in the stomach and in the face start to fall and as the men hit by the flashes from the white sticks start losing bits of their arms and their shoulders and their heads and falling to the ground dead dead dead–
    And as I grip Angharrad’s mane hard enough to pull out hair–
    And she’s so terrified she don’t even complain–
    All I can hear is the Mayor next to me–
    Saying, “At last, Todd–”
    And he turns to me and he says–
    “A worthy enemy.”

{VIOLA}
    Me and Acorn are barely a minute away from the army of the Answer when we pass the first road and I recognize where we are. It’s the road down to the house of healing where I spent my first weeks in New Prentisstown, the house of healing where Maddy and I snuck out one night.
    The house of healing where we took Maddy’s body to prepare it for burial after Sergeant Hammar shot her for no reason at all.
    “Keep going, Acorn,” I say, pushing the thought away. “The road up to the tower has to be around–”
    The dusky sky suddenly lights up behind me. I turn and Acorn does, too, and though the city is far away and behind trees, we can see a huge flash of light, silent from this distance, no rumble of an explosion, just a