by Crae, Edward
Saying a silent prayer for the poor people that lay in pieces around him, he stepped back onto the trail. He would find this Dan and his group if he could, and warn them that this vile man was looking for them. He would not allow another slaughter like this. Not again. If he could have made a difference, he would have stopped it. But one man with a cheap 9mm handgun was no match for a whole company of armed men. He would have been shot dead in an instant.
He hoped Dan and his group were armed.
Toby awoke in the middle of the night. Something had bumped up against the outside wall and knocked a picture to the floor in the kitchen. No one else had been awakened, so Toby decided to investigate himself. He could easily look outside through the window, and maybe even shoot whatever was out there. He would take care of it.
He padded silently into the kitchen and went to one of the windows. The glass was smudged and dusty, though, and he couldn’t see anything. He leaned his rifle up against the wall and pushed up on the window to open it. It went up roughly, with a few loud squeaks and bangs, but still quiet enough not to wake anyone else. He stuck his head out, peering into the shadows below.
There was the sound of rustling weeds, and some strange hissing that reverberated and jingled. He remember the sound distinctly. Dan had described it as Satanic jingle bells. He leaned back in and closed the window quickly. He had no desire to face a creature that he had seen up close in Maynard’s basement.
It was a stalker.
“Shit,” he whispered.
Should he wake up Dan? Should he just forget about it? The thing was sniffing around the house, sure, but it wasn’t really doing much. Its only hope of getting in was climbing onto the porch. If it did that, it could definitely break in. Windows were just glass.
He decided to go out on the porch and investigate further. If he sensed danger, he could always run inside. He would leave the door open so he could do so.
“Alrighty,” he said, grabbing his rifle.
He quietly opened the front door, making sure he didn’t wake anyone else. Toni mumbled a little and rolled over onto her side, but she remained in lala land. Toby stepped out onto the porch, leaving the door open, and crept to the top of the steps. He crouched, leaning up against the thick beam that held up the porch’s roof. There were no sounds other than the wind, and the slight rustling of the weeds; probably also the wind.
Though he wasn’t in any immediate danger, he still felt the pit growing in his stomach. There was definitely some fear there, slowly growing the longer he stayed outside. However, his curiosity once again proved stronger than anything else, and he decided to step down onto the sidewalk. He crept down the stairs, gripping his rifle tightly.
He pulled back the bolt handle, letting it snap forward and chamber a round. Then, he switched off the safety and held the rifle military-style as he turned this way and that. Then, he heard a crunching sound to his left. He turned quickly, crouching and raising the rifle up to his shoulder. He didn’t have an IR scope, but he was sure that he could hit anything if it got close enough. But would a .22 LR even do anything?
Probably not.
The crunching became louder, and something stepped into the moonlight. It was the stalker, crawling on all fours, it split-jawed head looking left and right. Oddly enough, its eyes seemed to be damaged, and it appeared to be blind. Toby’s fear subsided somewhat. He watched the creature as it sniffed around fruitlessly. Toby realized that stalkers didn’t have a very good sense of smell. Not like the shamblers, who navigated purely by smell.
He wondered if the creature was even dangerous at all. Even a blind lion would be timid, he guessed. No see, no kill. Right?
Suddenly, a shambler shot out of the shadows, screaming and growling as it sprinted in Toby’s direction. He about shit his pants, and leaped up to jump onto the stairs. There was another shambler there on the sidewalk!
“Fuckity fuck!” Toby shouted. “Daaaaaaaan!”
He sprinted in the other direction, away from the house. He heard the shamblers follow him, growling and gagging as they bore down on him. The jingling of the stalker got louder and louder as the creature closed in. Evidently it also navigated by sound.
Terrified and almost out of breath, Toby turned down the long driveway. But he stopped in his tracks, seeing the shadowy forms of a horde of shufflers coming toward him. He skidded to a stop, desperately searching for a way out. Behind him, the shamblers and the stalker closed in. He was trapped.
Toby dropped his rifle, defeated. He reared his head back and screamed as loud as he could. But he knew Dan and the others wouldn’t reach him in time. He was done for.
There was a sudden ring of steel, and a splatting sound. It repeated over and over again, and Toby looked around. The shamblers and the stalker were all dead, their bodies severed and dismembered. Ahead, the shufflers began to fall one by one, their heads sliced off, or their torsos cut in half.
What was happening?
Toby turned around to run back to the house. He bent down to retrieve his rifle, and then ran a few steps. But in the darkness, he saw the tall and lanky form of another creature standing there, its tentacles writhing and striking out at the horde of shufflers. Toby looked up in terror, seeing the black, glossy eyes, and the long, transparent fangs in its grinning mouth. He saw a creature like this at Maynard’s cabin. It had killed Maynard with one of those tentacles after it had escaped from the basement zoo.
The demon. The overlord.
Toby pissed his pants.
“What the fuck!?” Dan shouted as he was wakened.
Everyone jumped up and grabbed their weapons, sprinting out the open door as they heard Toby’s screams. The sound was coming from down the long gravel driveway, and they all went in that direction. Dan led the way, his rifle loaded and ready to go.
“He’s down this way,” Dan said, running toward the continuing screams.
Then, the group came upon the carnage. A horde of shufflers was coming up the driveway, but there were the dismembered bodies of other creatures lying about.
“What the fuck?” Dan said.
“Uh oh,” Jake said. “They’re all cut up. Either there’s a ninja around or another creature.”
Drew and the others formed a line and began firing into the horde of shufflers. “Find him!” Drew said. “We’ll hold them off.”
Dan and Jake broke into the woods, following the new screams. There was another growl ahead, then the squealing sound of a creature being killed. Whatever was up there was strong enough to kill stalkers without much effort. Dan could only think of one thing that powerful.
Robert?
“No fucking way,” he said.
Shamblers bounded toward them from the sides. Dan fired a few shots, catching a creature square in the chest. Jake finished off another one with a chop from his machete. The remaining three creatures suddenly fell forward as they ran, tumbling into useless piles of twisted flesh.
“Jesus Christ!” Jake yelled.
They stopped, listening for the movement ahead. Toby’s voice was faint, but it was up there somewhere. Dan switched on his gun light, walking forward as he swept it from side to side. He saw nothing but shadows and trees. Toby’s voice seemed to be coming from the left, back toward the radio shack. Dan looked at Jake, and the two bolted toward the small building. Toby’s voice was louder now, and though somewhat strained, he sounded alright.
“Toby!” Dan shouted.
“Over here!” Toby called back.
Dan and Jake reached the shack, searching around with their lights. Dan shined his light upward, and Toby was there on the roof.
“Toby,” he said with relief. “Are you alright?”
“I’m okay,” Toby said.
“How did you get up there?” Jake asked.
“The monster put me up here,” Toby replied. “But she left.”
The monster?
“What monster?” Dan asked, looking at Jake. Jake shrugged.
“The lady,” Tob
y said. “She said she lived here.”
Toni’s revolvers were blazing. She fired her last few rounds, then ducked near a stump to reload. Bill came over and guarded her as she fumbled for bullets. All around her, the group—all of them—fired a wall of lead into the horde, dropping them like flies. They seemed to be never-ending, and came on more aggressively by the minute.
“We’re gonna have to get back to the house,” Travis said, firing his last shotgun shell. “I’m out of ammo.”
“Go on!” Bill said. “I’ll cover you.”
“Dad, go!” Linda said, walking backwards as she fired. “We all go or we all stay.”
Bill grabbed Linda by the arm. “Just go,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
Travis, Max, and Eric joined them, firing into the crowd as they backed away. Grace came up behind them, a shotgun in her hand. Toni finished reloading and stood, cocking her hammers back. There was another ring of steel, and several of the horde fell amidst the gunfire.
“What the hell is that?” Bill said. “There’s something in there killing them.”
“Who gives a shit?” Travis said. “Let’s go!”
Gathered in a line, the group backed away toward the cabin. The horde still came, shuffling along slowly. The shamblers among them seemed to be distracted and hung back, only to be cut down by some invisible threat. Toni could see the ghostly shape of something tall and thin. It appeared like the ghoul she and Cliff had found frozen in the scrapyard, only taller and more sinister. There were few details, and she wasn’t interested in them anyway.
“Faster,” she said, firing into the front line.
Dan and Jake helped Toby to the ground. They led him back toward the house, directing him upward onto the porch.
“Get inside,” Dan said.
“They’re coming,” Jake said as the rest of the group appeared in the shadows.
“Let’s go!” Dan shouted.
Travis appeared first, his shotgun gripped tightly. “Did you find Toby?”
“Yeah,” Dan said.
The others came into view, and Dan waved them in. When the last of them were safe, he and Jake mounted the porch and fired a few final shots into the crowd before ducking into the cabin and slamming the door. Eric was there immediately with one of the couches, pushing it up against the door to secure it.
“We need to block the windows,” Bill said. “Or they’ll just walk right in.”
“There are materials near the kitchen table,” Dan said. “Grab some shit and let’s start boarding this place up before they find their way onto the porch.”
The others went to find the stack of boards, and Dan kept watch at the window. It would take a few minutes for the creatures to find their way up, probably quicker once the hammering started. Though Dan was confident they could barricade the windows against the shufflers and shamblers, he could only think of what had happened to Toby.
Somehow, there was another creature out there like Robert, and it had saved the boy’s life.
Chapter Five
Nathan stumbled through the dark, squinting to try to see some details of his surroundings. He had fled quickly once the big man and his cronies departed, and had not paid much attention to which direction he was going. Everything looked the same, and only the dim light of the moon distinguished the clear paths from the thick brush.
There was a strange smell that gradually gathered around him, like mold or mildew mixed with rotting organic material. He followed the scent, hoping it whatever was filling the air with its odor was dead. Gradually, as the scent became stronger, he began to see what looked like corpses on the ground. They smelled of fungus, and Nathan realized they were the bodies of the moldy infected. There were at least six of them, all arranged randomly, and riddled with bullet holes and stab wounds.
Inside a clearing, there was a circle of stones—probably an old campfire—and the body of a filthy but recently living man. He dared to pull out his flashlight and look the man over, seeing that he had been bitten in the arm and throat. He had likely died of blood loss due to the giant gash near his jaw.
“Jesus,” Nathan muttered.
He shined his light around, trying to make some sense of the scene. It looked like this man had been attacked by a group of moldies, and had fought them off until being mortally wounded. He searched the man’s pockets, finding a cigarette lighter, and a half a pack of generic smokes. He pulled one out, lit it, and squatted down to rest.
He looked around in the darkness, smoking the cigarette as he gathered his thoughts. All around him, the black was like an abyss of horror. He was definitely lost, but at least he had found some signs of life. But no matter how desolate he felt at the moment, he was glad he had not been spotted by the evil dude with the barbaric weapon.
Even from the distance he was at, the broken gear was visibly covered in dried and caked on organic material. He could imagine how badly it smelled. Even worse was the thought of what kind of man could carry the thing around and not be bothered by its smell.
He had never conceived of anything so vile. In his twenty seven years of life, Nathan had been mostly sheltered. Though his brother David had seen the horrors of war in the Middle East, Nathan chose instead to use his God-given speaking talents to teach. Teachers never saw this kind of thing; they only taught about it in history class.
Now Nathan was living this new nightmare, cold, desolate, and alone.
His life had changed greatly when Michael was killed. The two of them been the best of friends during their relationship. They were two men on a mission to educate in a world where education didn’t matter so much anymore. The new goals of society—compliance and silence—were golden. Then, on one horrifying nightmare of a day, Michael was taken from him. Michael, his partner in crime, the better half of their dynamic education duo…
Gone.
Nathan fought back the tears. This was no time to weep. It was time to survive, and if he did he would likely suffer more and more losses until finally he too was taken. But not today.
He went back over to the man’s body, turning him over to rummage through the rest of his pockets. They were empty, but there was a knapsack nearby. It was bulging with items, and Nathan hoped there was some food in there somewhere. There was a machete strapped to its side, along with a baseball bat riddled with headless nails. He took the machete, but left the bat, not wanting to travel with something so barbaric.
Inside the larger pocket were a few military MRE packets. He tore one open and devoured the virtual food quickly. Fortunately there was a small canteen of water to wash it down. When he finished, he searched some more. There was a box of .38 rounds, but no handgun. He switched on his flashlight and searched around. There had to be a gun somewhere. Why would the guy carry around bullets if he had nothing to shoot them out of? Besides, the corpses had bullet holes.
There, by the dead fire, right inside the ring of stones, was a small revolver. Nathan smiled. He already had a gun, but two was better than one. He stuffed the revolver in his coat, then sat down on the nearby stump. He could probably sleep safely here, he realized. The smell of decay would likely chase away the infected, as they wouldn’t be able to smell him personally. Maybe if he rubbed a little of the gore on his…
Never mind.
He shook his head. No fucking way he was walking around covered in guts and half-digested flesh. He would make do with the presence of gore on the ground. He would be safe. Finishing the smoke, he stamped it out and removed his pack, laying it on the ground to use as a pillow. He zipped up his coat and crossed his arms, curling up into the fetal position.
It was still cold, but at least he was warm enough to stay alive—if he could stop his teeth from chattering, that is. Then he realized, it wasn’t his teeth that he heard. Somewhere in the distance were gunshots, and the moans of many infected. They were far away, however—too far for him to worry about. Maybe this Dan guy was nearby, fighting for his life.
He didn’t really care
at the moment. He just needed rest. Lots of rest.
Despite the sense of doom he felt in the pit of his stomach, he closed his eyes and forgot all about the world around him.
Dan pounded in the last nail he could find and stepped back as the banging began on the other side of the boards. The small horde had mounted the porch and its ghastly members were pounding and scraping against the front of the house. The glass began to break on the other side of the boards, but their work had paid off. The barricades seemed to be holding well, and soon, he hoped, the infected would get bored and wander away.
Drew came in from the kitchen carrying the other hammer. He nodded to Dan, indicating he had finished boarding up the lower kitchen windows. Everyone else huddled at the back of the living room, hoping desperately that their barricade would hold.
“Cliff,” Dan said. “Maybe take your rifle upstairs and keep watch at one of the windows.”
Cliff nodded. “Good idea,” he said. “Those stalkers can climb.”
“What about the thing Toby saw?” Grace wondered.
Dan shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “It didn’t kill him. I don’t know why, but it helped him get to safety.”
“She was nice,” Toby said. “But sad.”
Dan wasn’t sure what he meant. The only other creature he had ever seen like the “lady” was Robert. He was a sociopath, and he had said that only sociopaths were fit for the blessing. “I can’t see how anyone who mutates like that could be helpful.”
“It’s possible, man,” Travis said. “If what the Robert guy said was true, then sociopaths are all mutated this way. But not all of them are bad guys, or were bad guys. It’s just a personality type. Pretty common, too. Maybe she was a lawyer or just a survivalist.”