by Casey Eanes
Kull lay back against the back of the truck bed and pushed against the log with his feet to steady himself from the jarring ride. This is going to be a long ride. He tried to find the most comfortable position he could as he listened to Wael explain to him the “truth” of the Exiles. After several minutes of being lectured to, Kull’s attention drifted towards the eerie dance of firelight on the horizon. He buttoned his jacket as the cool air continued to envelope the convoy. He thought of the events of the past few days.
I can’t believe this. I’m sitting in a logging truck with the Mastermonk debating history.
Kull turned back, only to hear Wael still talking. Frustrated, he broke in, “It just doesn’t make sense to me! You claim that the morels are the remnant of the Exiled army, but I seriously doubt it. Why would anyone want to bury this truth from us? Where is the gain?”
Wael did not answer, but Kull could feel a sudden rift grow between them. The monk simply leveled his gaze out over the open tailgate of the truck and was silent. He lifted his finger and tapped at his ear and then held it to his closed mouth.
Quiet, the motion spoke.
Kull chose to ignore the gesture, “Well? It still makes no sense.”
Wael laid back and rested his head on the truck bed and closed his eyes. It was as if a door had been slammed in Kull’s face.
Kull’s mind danced as he tried to avoid any further thought about the morels and Wael’s unwillingness to discuss them further. Every kid grew up with horror stories of the monsters and was warned not to venture out alone, especially at night. No one he knew had ever seen a morel, but then again, he never really asked too much about them back home. They just didn’t seem plausible to him. He imagined if someone did see one they would probably just keep quiet in hopes they were having a hallucination. It would be preferable to be crazy than to live in a world where the wretched things actually existed.
The truck slowed and turned off the road as it tried to avoid a terribly broken stretch of shattered pavement. Kull reached out to brace himself as the truck’s loose suspension did little to dampen the impact, jostling his teeth until he felt they would jump out of his mouth. The driver crudely down-shifted the vehicle, causing it to release a painful grunt within the transmission. The gears reengaged with a loud clank, and they were back on the main road, the diesel engine roaring as if it were cursing about the reckless steering. Kull wondered how long it would take until he could finally get out of the old truck. His whole journey had been one long truck ride, and between the choking smog hanging in the air and the eerie burning landscape, Kull decided he had enough truck rides for one lifetime.
At this rate, I could have walked to the Groganlands faster. He looked up from the truck bed, hoping to see some glimpse of stars in the night air, some brief burst of light to help him take his mind off of how terrible he felt. Dense, smoky fog was all that greeted him, hiding the night sky. Frustrated, Kull held his knees to his chest and shivered, praying for an end to this leg of the journey. He thought of his father, and then his mother. His hands reached for the pendant she had given him. He sighed and closed his eyes. Soon he felt his consciousness loosen, and he drifted off to sleep as the desert night overtook them.
The truck jolted and sent Kull face first into the timber across from him. Pain thundered him awake, and he felt sick due to the small amount of deep sleep he earned. He lifted his head and glanced over at Wael to see if he was asleep, but Wael was not sleeping. Wael was not even sitting down. Wael was crouched, looking out the back of the truck, with wild, wide eyes that registered only one thing: fear. Not a sulking, hand-wringing type of fear, but the primal type that rushed from the gut in order to keep you alive. Kull’s groggy mind struggled to make sense of the sight of the monk gripping his ironwood staff, accompanied by Rot’s vicious barking, the ridge of his back arched up like a banner, his white long fangs tearing into the night.
What...
Kull’s head snapped back to the edge of the tailgate. Out in the midnight were the red pinpricks of light, reflecting the truck’s red tail-lights. It was what Kull could only have guessed was some pack of wild animals; their eyes glowing like red, dancing flames. The number of dots grew with each passing second. They were being chased. Hunted. Wael banged his staff on the back of the truck and yelled at the driver in a panic.
“MORELS!” Wael ran the length of the truck bed with quick strides and slammed his hand on the back of the truck’s rear window. The driver shot a furious glance at Wael in his rearview mirror, but soon realized the desperate situation. He sent a violent jerk through the truck as he hammered down on the gas, forcing Kull to grab Wael by the shoulder. The truck began to shake as it smashed over ditches and shattered pavement. Wael yelled through the chaos, “Whatever happens, stay near me!” His eyes tightened. “Now you can decide whether the morels are real or not.” Wael loosed his grip and made a move that Kull did not expect. The monk pulled a knife from his belt and began to cut through the thick ropes holding the massive lumber to the truck bed.
SNAP. One rope dangled in the wind.
Kull held his breath as he forced himself to look back out at the pack of savage creatures chasing them. The creatures were barely humanoid, sunken faces painted in the red of the tail-lights, and even over the din of the engine Kull could hear their labored, jagged gasps for air. Their elongated arms swiped broken, jagged claws through the night air as they tried to grab hold of the truck.
SNAP. The massive rope was now loose and flew off into the darkness. Wael ran to the front of the truck bed and screamed at Kull.
“Kull! Help me!” Without thinking, Kull joined the monk in pushing against the gigantic timbers. “Kull, help me push them out!”
Instinct and a raw surge of adrenaline propelled Kull as he threw his shoulder into the back of the giant log, pushing against the truck cabin with his legs. At first, the mountainous log would not budge, but a quick jolt from a pothole seemed to loosen it. With another heave between them the log slid an inch, then another. Inch by inch they fought to move it, until finally it crashed out into the night, trampling over several of the morels pursuing them at an unbelievable pace.
Kull could hear the cracking sound of the wretched creatures’ bones as the log bounced on top of them and rolled off to the side of the road. They writhed in pain, clawing at one another, screaming in agony. Fear filled Kull’s heart as he stood dumbfounded at the sight. They are real. Gods above. They are real. Wael called out to him.
“KULL! Focus!”
Kull’s mind snapped back, and he moved in place behind the second log. A hulking morel lunged for the bed of the truck and Wael’s ironwood staff smashed against its jaw in quick succession. The blow sent the creature spinning to the pavement, but as soon as it hit the ground it rebounded, continuing its dogged pursuit. Its jaw was shattered, hanging uselessly from its battered maw, but still it ran after the truck with its blood red eyes glued on the monk.
Wael screamed over the din of Rot’s deep barks and the morels’ shrieks, “Kull, hurry! We need to push out the second log!”
In a panic, Kull pressed himself against the tree trunk as hard as he could. The second log was larger than the first, and it felt as if it had been bolted down. His legs strained as he drove his weight against the giant timber. The log finally started to give way when the driver slammed on the brakes. The log reversed course, sliding down on top of him. He flung his body to the other side of the truck bed, but not until it came hammering down against his foot.
“AGHHH!” Kull screamed in agony as fire shot up his leg. “WAEL! My leg!”
In an instant Wael was there, pushing the giant log from him, wrenching it away from his pinned ankle. Somehow, the log barreled out into the darkness, trampling into the pack of pursuers, releasing another chorus of ear-splitting shrieks. Kull looked down at his foot in revulsion, pin pricks of light shooting across his eyes. Blood poured out from the shattered place that was once his ankle.
Kull blinked
and stared back out into the darkness, rage fueling him. With the truck bed empty, he felt much more exposed than before. Wael sat him down and whispered. “Stay still.” He watched as Wael ran back to the edge of the tailgate where Rot was keeping guard for any intruder that dared jump into the truck. How had he pushed the log out so quickly? Rot stood now by his master’s side with his long fangs bared, both waiting for the night demons to mount another attack.
The morel with the broken jaw somehow avoided the second log and was only a few feet behind the truck. Its eyes never shifted from Wael. Kull’s stomach flipped as he saw the creature snap what was left of its jagged teeth together, a twisted ribbon of a shattered smile growing over its fractured face. It made a huge leap into the truck, clawing out for the monk. Wael threw his staff out to the beast, but it countered, landing on the tailgate of the vehicle. The creature slashed his claws across Wael’s chest, releasing red blood across his white linen garb. Wael pushed against the beast with his staff as it clawed at him, pale knives slicing for his face. Rot charged, lowering his head like a bull, and sunk his fangs into the ankle of the morel. The beast bellowed in pain, falling to the floor of the bed as Rot pulled the morel off of his master and back deeper into the back of the truck. It clawed for Rot, but Wael hammered his staff deep into the creature's skull with a sickening THUNK. It blinked, twitched, and was gone.
Wael looked at the dog as he gasped for air. “Good boy, Rot,” he said.
The truck took another sharp turn and bounced so hard that it threw them all into the air. They landed with a shattering smash, the blow sending a new bolt of lightning up Kull’s ankle. Wael and Rot somehow stayed upright through the chaos, remaining balanced precipitously on the edge of the truck bed.
Wael never turned his head to look back at Kull, but instead kept his gaze fixed on the remaining six morels still barreling in on them. The truck seemed to be getting slower and slower until the driver nearly came to a complete stop. Wael did not relent as they came, but swung at the pack as they would lunge at the truck bed snarling, teeth flashing, delirious in their pursuit for flesh. Two morels flanked the truck and jumped into the bed from the side. He can’t see them! Kull reached out as if he could just tap Wael on his shoulder. Everything happened so fast, Kull could not even scream to warn him. One lunged, but Wael ducked gracefully, sending up his foot in the air, hammering into the creature’s nightmare of a face, flipping it back over the truck’s tailgate.
The other morel had caught sight of Kull lying in the corner of the truck bed. The fiend bounded after him as swift as lightning, and Kull froze as its dagger-like claws clicked across the metal floor. It bore its fangs and released a deafening scream. Kull swung and smashed his fist into the beast’s jaw, but it snapped and bit at him like a rabid badger. Kull let out a primal scream. The beast let out a low, guttural growl, a purr, gloating in its newfound meal. It swiped and grabbed at Kull as he batted away at the claws slicing to grab him. It was as if Kull was punching his fists into a thicket of butcher knives, the sharp claws flying through the air, plunging closer and closer into him.
The pain of his leg was distant now, and Kull felt time slowing. I’m going to die. Kull knew it was coming. One quick swipe would relieve him of all of this. It was only a matter of seconds. He looked out desperately for Wael, but he was not there. The morel’s teeth clicked, and a long, black snake of a forked tongue flickered out at him.
He must be dead and I will be next. The thought locked in his mind with a dreaded hopelessness. Kull closed his eyes, resolving in his heart that his last sight would not be the monster diving in on him. Behind his eyelids he prepared himself for death, thinking on his mother, his father. Adley.
The sound of bones crunching broke through the darkness behind his closed eyes, but Kull felt no pain. His eyes flew open to see the morel’s face, inches away, pull back and flop onto the truck bed like a rag doll. He tried to look around and make sense of what was happening. A blur of black, matted fur stood over the creature, his one good eye blazing with pride.
The morel’s horrid body quivered uncontrollably on the ground, and Kull noticed the twisted section where Rot had just severed its spine.
The pit of Kull’s stomach churned under the pain of his crushed ankle, but he pulled himself to the back corner of the truck bed, inching himself away from the corpse of the monster that nearly killed him. The crushed leg left him lightheaded and dizzy, the fog of the pain overwhelming. Kull tried to fight out of it, forcing himself to push through the daze, feeling the gears below the old truck churn. We’re moving. We’re moving again. The driver reengaged the transmission and downshifted, punching down on the gas and setting a small bit of distance between the truck and the pack, whose rank and file had only increased. Aleph above, there are still more of them. Relief rushed in when he saw Wael still holding his position on the tailgate. Where had he gone?
The fight on the back of the truck raged on as another morel managed to jump onto the side of the truck, throwing itself into the bed. It lunged at Wael, but was quickly met by the swift blade of his knife. He impaled the beast and flung it over the opposite side of the truck. Another jumped and clung to the edge the tailgate. Wael gave no ground. Kull counted out in the darkness. How many are there?! He could clearly see that there were nearly a dozen of them still left, still hunting them down. Wael was good, but this was a game of numbers, and there was no way they could keep this up.
Kull forced himself to stand, repositioning himself to avoid any pressure on his crushed ankle. Nausea swept over him as the hot iron rods of pain shot up his leg. Any adrenaline he had was fading to a trickle. Wael’s staff flew through the night, ricocheting with deafening cracks and concrete thuds against bone, claw, and flesh. The tattered remains of the morel Rot gored still lay in the truck bed in a crumpled heap, a bouquet of decay. The smell, the shrieking din of the beasts howling in the night, combined with Wael’s endless fighting made Kull want to give up. It’s hopeless. Kull could see that Wael was losing energy, gasping for breath with each volley. It would not be long now until they joined the rotting pile of flesh beside him.
Kull saw a sudden movement in the back of the truck bed. He rallied himself. This is it. Go down fighting! He turned, expecting his last sight to be the claws of another undead morel, but instead he saw the eyes of his father standing there in the darkness. Kull could feel his chest tighten as his heart thumped with a deafening cadence. I’m hallucinating. I must be.
“Kull.” It was his father’s voice.
Kull stared at the vision and could only whisper. “What?”
His father pointed, and as Kull followed the finger, his eyes landed on the small pack he had lodged in the back corner of the truck bed. My rifle. How could I forget? Without looking back at his father, he lunged for the weapon, heaving himself to it. His fingers fumbled in the dark, pulling the rifle up by its stock. His eyes lined down the gun’s sights, right onto the head of one of the beasts. A female. She had once been someone’s friend or even mother. Kull could see the remnants of the humanity that had long since passed, illuminated from the red glow of the tail-light. She might have even been beautiful once. The monster’s loose, pale skin and sagging distant face all reminded him of his mother during one of her deeper sick spells. I can’t do it. That thing is human. The image tortured Kull as he tried to dismiss the thought that he might be taking down what had once been someone’s mother. What if it really was just a sickness, some virus that did this to once normal people? Maybe they could be saved?
Kull’s finger eased on the trigger until the beast woman leapt onto the tailgate, bearing her ragged, blood-stained teeth. As much as she made him think of his mother’s frail frame, none of that mattered now. She was inches from Wael’s back.
He steadied his breath and squeezed the trigger without another thought. I go down fighting, he thought to himself. The shot hammered out into the night like thunder, and the bullet met its mark, knocking the female back, her dead body bounci
ng and rolling on the broken pavement, trampled under her cursed kin. Kull reloaded. He quickly counted nine left. Lifting up his weapon, he aimed again at one of the monsters. This one was an elderly male...or used to be. It ran so fast that it was unnatural. He forced the idea out of his mind and pulled the trigger.
BANG.
Nothing happened. He had missed, and the morel boarded the truck in one swift motion, flailing for Rot. Its claws cut a red path through Rot’s fur before pulling back its arm for another blow. The dog yelped, but clamped its powerful jaws on the fiend. Kull heard maddening shrieks as he fumbled for another bullet. Wael was busy grappling with two morels at once. They managed to attack the monk in a wicked display of unison. The older morel was on top of Rot, trying to avoid the dog’s powerful fangs, but Rot clamped down on the monster’s arm like a vise. The sound of popping bones echoed in the bed as Kull steadied his aim and held his breath for one more shot.
BANG.
The creature did a back flip as the bullet seared through its skull. Kull looked to Wael again as he steadied his stance, blocking the two he fought with his staff, but stabbing them in quick succession with swift swipes from his blade. They went down in an instant. Wael held up his hand and he mouthed over the noise “Hold!”
Wael whistled at Rot, and the two of them leapt off the moving truck and into the darkness. In one bound, Rot cleared the distance between the truck and their remaining pursuers, clamping his massive jowls down on a morel’s neck while he was still airborne. The dog greeted his enemies with the happy snap of bone.
Wael landed on his feet and ran straight toward the last four pursuing them. He catapulted his staff from his hand as if it was a spear, and it bolted right through one of the creature’s chests. Rot moved on, beheading two more morels in quick succession. Wael grabbed the other end of the staff, unsheathed it from the Shambling’s husk, and calmly walked over to the last morel that Rot brought down. Kull could see Wael standing over it writhing from side to side, blindly clawing the air. Kull could not see what happened next as the driver continued to bounce down the road, leaving Wael and Rot wrapped in the midnight beyond the red glow of the vehicle.