“You know I’ll always come back to you,” he whispered. “Nothing on his earth could keep me away.”
She sniffled and kissed him again, releasing his jacket and taking his hand.
“What about the others?”
“Adam went back for Ray. I don’t know what’s going to happen from here.”
She nodded, squeezing his hand and leading him back to the cave. The others waited expectantly, hoping he would volunteer whatever he knew about the other two. For the first time, he honestly didn’t know whether one or both would come back and chose not to answer their unspoken question.
“Now is the time we’ve been preparing for,” Phoenix said, hoping his voice sounded stronger than he felt. “The Swarm will be here soon. I can feel it.”
“What are we going to do?” Mare asked. “Adam and Ray are gone, and no one knows where Norman is. That just leaves the nine of us against an army of monsters. And what about Richard and his men?”
“Two of them will come back,” Jill said. “That much I know. I think Ray will be one of them. I remember seeing something…something about his eyes…like they weren’t even there.”
“All we can do is ready ourselves,” Phoenix said. “We won’t get another chance.”
Phoenix walked past them to the rear of the cave and grabbed two of the jugs of gasoline they’d siphoned from the semi. Passing them to Mare, he grabbed the two remaining and headed out into the storm with Mare right behind. They followed the face of the mountain to where it ended at the road. Climbing the hill of sand and snow, they both uncapped the jugs and sloshed the gas all over the fence they’d erected from the top of the semi, throwing arcs of fluid as high as they could. Setting the empty containers against the base of the barricade, they headed back into the cave. Phoenix reached right into the pile of coals with gloved hands and exhumed one that still glowed bright orange. Juggling it from hand to hand, the heat both delightful and painful at once, he rushed back up the hill and pressed the black rock against the fence. He held it there, waiting, and when he was just about to give up and grab another, a faint blue flame raced along the gas-darkened wood. The fire grew higher with each passing second, the flames turning yellow and then finally orange as they ate into the grain and expanded from the sections of fuel to the bare wood.
The others gathered around him, watching as the entire wall of wood started to burn, ten-foot high flames chasing a thick black cloud of smoke into the sky.
“What now?” April asked, pulling Darren’s arm around her.
“We wait,” Phoenix said, finally turning away from the fire and heading back down to the beach. He took his post behind the dike, barely able to see over it. The others lined up to either side, watching the far horizon where the bonfire still burned on the distant island, wavering in and out of the sheeting snow.
IV
The Great Salt Lake
“OH, MY GOD. OH, MY GOD. OH, MY GOD,” KEVIN SAID. HE’D RUN THE snowmobile’s tank dry without even noticing until the engine seized and he coasted to a halt. His hands were shaking so hard that he was pouring more of the gas onto the side of the tank than in it. “Jesus… Jesus Christ! Did you see that? He just…just cut that kid’s eyes out.”
Jerry was using the opportunity to fill his tank as well, though with slightly more precision.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“God! There was so much blood and his eyes, man, they just popped right out of his sockets.”
“Shut up.”
“What the hell are we going to do?”
“I said shut up.”
“What are we supposed to tell the others? I mean, they’ll never believe us. It’s just so…so…”
“Shut up!” Jerry shouted, his voice echoing off into the pine thickets.
Kevin flinched as though he’d been slapped. His mind was reeling. There was a part of him that was convinced he couldn’t possibly have seen what he saw. There was no way a man could drive a knife into another man’s eyes and gouge them out. It was sick. Barbaric. He’d never witnessed anything so horrific in his life. All he wanted to do was just get on that snowmobile and drive as far and as fast as he could.
“What do you think he’ll do to those people?” he whispered.
“None of our concern,” Jerry said.
“He’s going to kill them all, isn’t he?” Kevin’s voice rose an octave, his breathing bordering on hyperventilation.
“Why do you think we went there in the first place?”
“I thought we were just going to take back the kid before they could hurt him.”
“How did you think we were going to do that, huh? Didn’t you think about that when we all got guns?”
“I didn’t think we’d actually use them.”
“What? And just wave them around? How naïve are you?”
“But, I thought—”
“But. But. Shut up.”
The gas began to overflow from the tank. Jerry shook the container to see if there was enough gas left to try to salvage before tossing it into the shrubbery. Capping the tank, he brushed several inches of new accumulation from the seat and plopped down.
“Don’t leave without me!” Kevin said, now on the verge of tears. He couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t think. The world was spinning around him. A week prior he had just started his new job in social services. He’d been groomed to liberate children from bad situations. He’d hunted deer twice with his uncle, so he was no stranger to firearms, but he’d never once considered the prospect of raising one against another human being. The contents of his stomach revolted before he even knew they were coming, spattering his legs and the seat.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Jerry said, revving the engine of his speeder. The last thing he wanted right now was to have to babysit a grown man. The time had come to just suck it up and save their own skins, and he was saddled with the biggest pansy on the planet. He would be better off leaving this guy before he had to tow him like an anchor. That was the way of the world anyway, wasn’t it? Only the strong survived. Let this sissy get dragged down like a wounded gazelle. They would both probably be better off. He was about to just pin the gas and speed off when he heard a high-pitched roar, like the winds before a tornado.
He looked up at the trees, but the upper canopy hardly jostled. Yet still the sound grew louder, reminding him of the noise of a football stadium from afar. To his left, Kevin had stopped whining long enough to drop the gas can and scan the horizon, the same puzzled look on his face.
“Can you hear—?” Kevin started before Jerry hushed him.
Jerry killed the engine so he could better hear, amplifying the sound tenfold. He rose and stepped back down into the snow. The earth trembled slightly as though from distant aftershocks. His reflection vibrated in the side mirror of the snowmobile. Far ahead, the higher reaches of the trees shivered off their snow mass to reveal brownish-green needles that hung down like noodles.
“Get on your snowmobile,” he said, backing toward his own.
Kevin stared at him, uncomprehending.
“Get on your damn snowmobile!” Jerry shouted, leaping on and cranking the engine, which screamed and fired a flume of snow from the rear.
It hadn’t been the wind.
Not even close.
As the sound grew louder, it was clearly decipherable as hissing. And it was coming closer with each passing second. The ground now positively rumbled as Jerry spun the snowmobile and sped in the opposite direction.
Kevin had heard Jerry’s cries, but he was paralyzed by fear, terrified by the line of trees in front of him. They shook off more snow, dropping it to the forest floor. The darkness of the underbrush wavered as though ripping itself apart before golden dots appeared, filling every available iota of space until the entire area positively glowed.
Kevin screamed, finally willing his legs to move. He leapt onto the snowmobile and cranked the ignition. The engine sputtered, drawing new life from the gasoline and releasi
ng a roar, but he never even had time to throttle it.
Hundreds of bodies tore through the undergrowth, the headlight glinting from claws and teeth, shimmering on the outline of slick black scales. They poured over him, burying the entire snowmobile. The windshield shattered and Kevin screamed, but the sounds were drowned out by the hissing. Talons ripped through his skin to the bone, peeling away layers of flesh to be snapped up by greedy jaws and torn away. The pain was excruciating, though mercifully brief. His windpipe opened and his lungs were torn through fractured ribs, his skull shattered like impacting a solid wall at high velocity.
When the Swarm passed over, there was nothing left but an idling snowmobile with a shattered headlight and grooves carved into the metal. Stuffing protruded from the shredded vinyl seat, a trail of blood and jaggedly broken bones coating the footprint-riddled snow for a good twenty yards behind it.
Jerry pushed the speeder as hard as he could, but each time he looked into one of the side mirrors, the eyes had grown larger. Trying to stabilize the rudder with one hand, he unslung the shotgun from his back and fired blindly over his shoulder, again and again until the chamber was empty and he threw the gun behind him into his snowy wake.
He lowered his head behind the glass and tucked his knees into the sides of the seat to streamline himself, but even that wasn’t enough. Baring his teeth, he growled as the hissing overcame even the sound of the motor. The rear of the snowmobile kicked to the side as it was battered from behind, the final warning he would be given. Claws tore through his jacket, looping under his skin like fishhooks. The snowmobile raced away from beneath him, slamming into a tree trunk, but he was already flat on his back in the snow, surrounded by a wash of his own shredded flesh and spatters of blood.
V
Mormon Tears
ADAM HAD TRUDGED HALFWAY BACK TO THE BEACH WITH PHOENIX BEFORE turning back. There had been a part of him that knew he had potentially sent Ray to his death and had willingly accepted it. With so many people dying all around him, he had allowed himself to become anesthetized to it. But there was a part of him—the better part—that wouldn’t allow it. He’d warred with his conscience while Ray’s screams echoed like gunfire in the confines of his skull. It felt as though each agonized cry stripped away part of his humanity. Phoenix had told him that it was his destiny to lead them, and he’d grown to accept it. Rushing in to try to save Ray would jeopardize his life, and should he fail, the lives of those entrusted to his care as well. He tried to convince himself that his decision to abandon Ray was in the interests of the greater good, but what it all boiled down to was the fact that he was scared. Scared of being killed. Scared of letting down those who counted on him. But most of all, he was scared of failure, which meant more than just the end of their lives. It meant the end of their race.
Was their species worth saving if one life could be deemed inconsequential versus the greater good? Regardless of the personal consequences, he couldn’t allow life to lose meaning. It was far better to give his life in the attempt to save another, even if in vain, than to turn his back on a single soul that just might be within his power to save. The thought that he had even considered doing so sickened him, but perhaps there was still a chance to atone.
Though the snow was well past his knees and he had to use his hands to push off and propel himself forward, he scrabbled toward the island, ears tuned to what he hoped would be the continued sound of screaming. There was only the wail of the wind and the unheard noises beneath. The silence terrified him. If Ray’s cries had fallen quiet, then that could mean only one thing.
“Ray!” he shouted against his better judgment, expecting to be barraged with a flurry of bullets. He couldn’t see a thing through the storm ahead, and looking back could only weaken his resolve. The wind had already buried their tracks, so he didn’t even know if he was heading in the right direction.
He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Ray was dead. How had he allowed himself to be talked into such a foolish scheme in the first place? They should have taken their stand as one, rather than sacrificing Ray. And for what? To buy them just a little more time? Was that the value of life?
The thought drove him harder, every muscle screaming in protest, his lungs unable to keep up with the oxygen demands. Mucus froze on his stubbled upper lip, his teeth aching from the cold. A small voice in the back of his mind pleaded for him to just lie down and rest for a few minutes. Just a couple lousy minutes for his body to recuperate. Maybe just close his eyes for a few precious seconds…
“No!” he bellowed, his eyes snapping open by will alone before he could pass out into the snow. There was no time for weakness. He bit into his lower lip, the genesis of pain focusing his attention, the resultant blood creeping from the corners of his mouth.
Barely able to keep his eyes open against the furious snowflakes, he fought onward. A gentle sound materialized beneath the storm, not the tormented wails he had expected, but a soft mewling.
“Ray?” he said, veering to the right and hurrying toward the sound. A dark shape appeared against the endless white, a hunched body that took several steps forward before collapsing into the snow. Trying to rise on its legs alone, the shadow stumbled, only to fall again. “Ray!”
Adam ran toward the younger man, who toppled face first into the accumulation, only this time he didn’t even try to get back up. His hood hung loosely to the side, his hair thick with ice, minus one bloody swatch of bare skin. Grabbing him under the arm, Adam eased him to his knees.
“Talk to me, Ray! Are you hu…?” His words died when he saw Ray’s imprint in the snow beneath him. It was pink with blood. “Jesus.”
“Please,” Ray whispered. “Just kill me.”
He turned as though to look at Adam, blood pouring down his cheeks from sockets black with clotting blood. A layer of frost was already forming on the congealing fluid.
“Oh, God, Ray…” Adam said, barely able to keep from turning away in horror. He slid his left arm beneath Ray’s right and wrapped it around the poor kid’s back until he could grab a handful of jacket under Ray’s left arm. Helping him slowly to his feet, bearing an inordinate amount of weight on his shoulders and legs, Adam started back toward the shore. “I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. Please forgive me…”
Ray coughed out a mouthful of blood and tried to look at him. Warm fluid poured down into his throat from his sinuses. “You shouldn’t have come back for me.”
“I shouldn’t have let you do this in the first place.”
Ray tried to laugh, but the pain was too great. “You wouldn’t have been able to stop me.”
“I can’t believe…I can’t believe they did this to you. I’m so…sorry.” The words sounded hollow even to Adam as he spoke them.
“I kind of had it coming.”
“Not this. There’s nothing you could have done to deserve…this.”
“I stabbed Richard in the gut.”
“Is he…?”
“No,” Ray said, gently shaking head. “It only pissed him off.”
“So he was the one who did this to you?”
Ray said nothing.
“I’ll kill him,” Adam said. The statement was so matter of fact that it startled him. In his military experience, he’d always known there might come a time when he would find himself in a position where he would have to take another man’s life to save his own, but as a physician, the odds were definitely in his favor of staying away from the heaviest combat. He had never actually imagined that he could ever lust for a man’s blood, though. He was in the practice of saving lives. The urge was contradictory to his very nature, but this wasn’t just a man. Richard was the embodiment of evil. What kind of person would gouge out a man’s eyes and send him out blindly to stumble to his death in the snow?
“He sent me ahead to warn you,” Ray said. “He said he was going to kill you all.”
“Then we’ll be ready,” Adam said, his jaw jutting forth. “We’ll be ready all right.”
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They continued to the west—or at least what felt like the west—the distance seeming interminable. With each labored step, Adam feared that rather than approaching their camp, they were wandering farther onto the lake, paralleling the shore. If that were the case, then they could end up walking forever, or at least until they passed out from exhaustion, never again to wake. He looked back over his shoulder, but here was no sign of the island. The only sound other than the wind was a metronomic thuck…thuck…thuck…almost like the sound of someone chopping wood at a great distance.
He was just about to alter their bearings when a light flickered into view ahead and to the left through the worsening storm. The massive flakes flew sideways in an attempt to steal it from sight, but Adam knew exactly what it was. More importantly, though, he knew what it meant.
They had set fire to the wooden barricade.
The battle was upon them.
VI
The Great Salt Lake
THREE MEN REMAINED WITH RICHARD, THOUGH THEY DID THEIR BEST TO keep their distance. He sat on his rock by the fire, holding his knife in the flames. His glove burned and the skin on his hand was starting to blister, but he couldn’t feel it at all with the horrendous agony in his abdomen and the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through his blood. Were it not for the all-consuming rage, the pain would have driven him to unconsciousness. He held the seething wound closed with a blood-soaked glove, his innards fighting to squeeze out like canned cheese. His clothes were sopping with blood clear through to the skin, drenched from his chest all the way down to his shins.
He was going to kill them for what they’d done to him. He was going to shoot each and every one of them in the knees or the stomach and watch them die the slowest, most wretched death he could imagine. Watch them bleed out into the snow, the color slowly draining from their faces, their eyes sinking into darkness. He wanted to hear their cries, but more than that, he wanted to hear them beg. Not just for their lives, but to be put out of their misery.
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