The Nix IV
Another screech of metal. This one the Nix grating along the top of the Cherokee. It crunched into the rear door, still open for unpacking the supplies inside. Screams from the house. Horror but not terror, but I knew those would switch if my wife made it onto the porch.
Amber sucked in air beneath me, sobbing and doe-eyed. We rolled to the side and I hauled her up, guiding her toward the porch. “The house, walk, do not run.”
I scooped up the seven iron, now boomerang bent, and was right behind her as she stalked toward the house. She was accelerating. I expected as much but thought it would work out. Jill would reach the door at the same time, and they would prove all the more tempting a target.
Nix were unpredictable, and I needed my chance. I didn’t think I’d get a second. I was hoping hunger would work against it. The shrieks at the front door drew the metal insect, and as it coiled to launch, I wound up. The swing was clean and the iron rammed into the flying Nix, driving it into the porch foundation. Those damn hooks snatched the golf club from my hand though and pulled me half over the stair railing.
As I reached for purchase, the glint of the rings registered. I almost laughed, having forgotten about them. The Nix was already scrambling up the rail, but my weapon was at hand, a reflex defense. The rings touched and I drew the superheated monofilament between them, catching the lead section of the Nix as it crested the railing. A single twisting loop and the battle was over as the alien was sheared into several erratic sections.
The filament retracted and I walked to the car and lowered the garage door. I would check the rest of it in a few minutes, but for now, there was no need to risk it. My family crashed into me and we held each other for long minutes as the adrenalin drained away.