by Edward Crae
Having made a full visual sweep and finding nothing, he lowered his rifle and looked back at the camp. Travis and Toby were throwing more logs on the fire, Drew and Max were having some type of dramatic conversation near the Hummer, and Lena appeared to be trying to talk to Melanie through the boarded up window of her office.
Cliff turned back to Drew and Max’s direction, grinning as he realized that the two were probably discussing some action flick, or the latest video game. Drew’s wild arm gestures told it all. He was glad, though. Seeing Max opening up made him smile. He guessed that Drew was somewhat of another gamer or sci-fi freak. Max now had someone to talk to, someone who could actually blend in with just about any crowd.
Cliff was glad that Dan and Drew had shown up. They were a much needed addition to their chaotic group. Hell, since they came, Melanie had even stepped foot out of her sulking place. That was a refreshing change from her usual “rule the village” routine, where she constantly observed, berated, and put down everyone on a constant schedule. It was her thing.
He hated her.
“Cliff,” Toby called from below.
He looked down, seeing the boy standing there with a smile.
“Travis says we need to get more wood,” Toby said.
“Alright, little man,” Cliff said. “I can get some, or we can wait a few minutes for Dan and Eric to get back.”
“I could go outside the fence and grab some little stuff.”
“No,” Cliff said. “It’s too dangerous. Just wait and we’ll figure something out. Maybe Drew and Max could grab some if we need it right away.”
“But I wanna help,” Toby pleaded.
Cliff smiled. “Come up here, then,” he said.
Toby climbed up the scaffolding with a helping hand. When he reached the top, Cliff waved his arm toward the north.
“Help me keep watch,” he said. “It’s a big world, and I can’t watch it all.”
Toby smiled and stood firm, holding his hand above his brow and looking out over the forest. Cliff raised his rifle again and peered through his scope. He swept from side to side slowly, watching every movement; every swaying of the trees, every small animal that moved through the brush, and the strange, white shape that seemed to be moving toward Dan and Eric.
“Shit,” he whispered.
He increased the magnification of the scope, trying to zoom in on whatever was moving toward his friends. Though he lost sight of it for a second, he found it again when it was about a hundred yards away. It was one of the strange, slow-moving humanoid creatures, staggering through the trees with its head lolling in every direction.
And it wasn’t alone.
He saw another, a short ways behind the first, moving in the same direction. He went back to the first, moving his hand to the trigger. It was quite a long distance, and he wasn’t sure he could hit it, but he had to try. Kneeling down, he steadied the rifle on the top of the fence, just under the first layer of barbed wire. He took a few deep breaths, keeping the creature in his sights, then took the shot.
He could see the puff of debris explode out from a tree near the creature’s head. He had missed, but he was close. Damn close.
“Damn it,” he whispered.
“Do you see something?” Toby asked.
“Yeah, buddy,” Cliff said. “I think I can hit it though.”
He leveled his scope at the creature again, taking comfort in the fact that Dan and Eric were going in the opposite direction. He held his breath, waiting a few heartbeats, then fired again. The creature’s head exploded in a cloud of brains and glop, and it pitched to the side as it tumbled down. Cliff moved the rifle to the left, trying to find the other creature. It wasn’t visible anymore. It had probably moved behind a ridge.
He searched right, finding Dan and Eric facing the creature’s direction. Dan held his rifle up, as if lining up a shot. Cliff swung to the left again. He saw the creature just as its head was sheared off by Dan’s shot. It fell straight down, disappearing into the brush. Cliff sighed.
“Good shot,” he whispered.
Evidently, Dan had skills. Though he realized the man had issues, particularly with drugs—and taking things seriously—Dan seemed like he knew his way around a rifle. Cliff wondered if he had any military experience, or if he was just “one of those guys” who shot things in his back yard.
Either way, he was confident that Dan was a good addition to their group. He wasn’t afraid of anything that Cliff could see, and had no qualms about killing. Drew was the same way. He doubted either one of them had any experience before the shit hit the fan; they didn’t seem like that type. They just adapted quickly, he supposed.
That was a good trait.
Dan looked down at the odd creature that had been shot from a distance. He knew it was probably Cliff who had fired the shot. Very impressive from such a long range. It was identical to the pale white creature from the highway that he had dispatched with Drew’s crossbow. He didn’t have to look at the other corpse to know that it would be the same.
“This is something new,” he said as Eric walked up behind him. “Not quite a full mutant, but not a shuffler, either.”
“I’m not sure of the difference between your shufflers and shamblers,” Eric said, “but this thing gives me the creeps.”
“The shufflers are mostly wanderers,” Dan explained. “The shamblers are the aggressive ones that run. I don’t know what this is.”
“It’s almost alien looking,” Eric noted.
The big man was right. Though the thing’s head was mostly gone, Dan could see how it resembled the Robert creature; just not to the same degree of mutation. It was also quite obviously not sentient; at least to the point of speaking or reasoning. It just seemed to stumble around, much like the shufflers, or the newly discovered dead.
He poked at the creature’s skin with his rifle’s silencer. The flesh was tough and sinewy, with a ghostly white pallor. It was somewhat glossy, as if made of plastic. Veins showed through it faintly. Whatever this creature was, it had definitely been a fully functioning lifeform.
“It was coming from that direction,” Dan said, pointing toward a trail that led upward and to the west. It was narrow and worn, but a trail nonetheless. “Let’s find out what’s up there.”
Eric nodded, falling in step behind him. They passed the other creature, and the two wandering corpses, eyeing them nervously as they went by. The trail wound upward in a gentle incline, surrounded and shrouded by leafless trees that formed an archway above.
“This reminds me of the state forest by my old house,” Dan said. “Fall was always the best time to go hiking, I thought. I don’t like it so much anymore.”
“No,” Eric said. “Me neither. Not with those things wandering around.”
As they continued on, Dan saw a corpse lying on the side of the trail. They approached cautiously, keeping their rifles aimed at its head. As they neared, the body began to stir. It rolled over toward them, leaving a slimy patch of putrefied flesh behind. Its rotting mouth opened as its gnarled hand reached out. Dan put a single round in its forehead, and it slumped to the ground lifeless once more.
Dan glanced at Eric, whose expression was a look of nausea. “Another rotter,” Dan said. “I wonder what the hell is up here.”
Ahead, the top of the hill was open. The trees gave way to a clearing that was yet to be visible from their point of view, though Dan could clearly see some kind of weathervane in the distance. As they trudged on, the object gave way to the tower that held it. It was the white-paneled tower of a small church.
“Holy shit,” Dan muttered, wondering if Eric would find it amusing. He didn’t.
“What kind of church is out here in the middle of nowhere?” Eric asked.
“You hadn’t noticed it before?”
“No. But then again, I wasn’t really looking for one.”
Dan stopped, remembering the church in Oolitic. “The last time I was at a church, it wasn’t a very pleasant exper
ience.”
“I wonder if the pastor is still here.”
Dan continued on. As they reached the top of the trail, they could see the whole churchyard. There were headstones on their side, interspersed with dead trees. The headstones were old; decrepit and cracking. Some of them had been overturned, and there seemed to be fresh graves. Someone had been busy here. They stopped, scanning the area for any dangers. There were no creatures in sight; only the church itself. The main doors were on the left side, and there looked to be a small gravel parking lot with a narrow road going off into the woods.
“Alpine Baptist Church,” Dan said, reading the sign. “I wonder if there are supplies in there.”
“I’m not looking forward to finding out,” Eric said, “but I guess since we’re here…”
They crossed the clearing, checking out the headstones on their way. The names were mostly Germanic, with a few Anglo names among them. Most of the dates were in the late 1800s, with only a few from the early 1900s. Dan studied the freshly dug graves, picturing corpses clawing their way out and howling at the moon.
Impossible, he knew, but a frightening thought nonetheless.
They went around to the front of the building, noting the lack of cars in the parking lot. The front steps leading to the double doors were crusted with dried blood, and the doors themselves were scratched and splintered. Someone or something had tried to get inside to no avail. Dan mounted the first step, looking back to see Eric standing still, debating on whether to follow.
“You coming?” Dan asked.
Eric shook his head hesitantly. “I don’t know,” he said. “The doors are probably locked anyway.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Dan said. “Maybe the creatures were just unable to turn the doorknobs. They’re not the brightest bulbs on the Christmas tree.”
A loud groan caught their attention. They both turned to the parking lot, seeing a small horde of shufflers emerging from the tree line.
“Shit,” Dan said. “Come on.”
He ascended the steps, checking the doors. They were unlocked, as he suspected. Eric followed him, stepping backward to keep his eyes on the shufflers that moved unusually quickly across the gravel. There were at least a dozen of them, growling and hissing as they closed in.
“Come on!” Dan repeated.
Eric followed, and the two men slammed the doors behind them. There was a beam-type lock hanging loose on the left door, and Dan spun it around and rested it in its cradle to secure the door. Behind him, Eric mumbled something.
“Dan…”
Dan turned around. Eric’s eyes were wide and staring. A large, white cocoon hung at the peak of the vaulted ceiling, quivering and dripping with slime. Dan’s heart pounded, knowing full well that something was in there transforming. He took a step toward it, never taking his eyes off it. Behind him, the shufflers impacted the double doors, jolting him from his trance.
“What is that?” Eric asked.
“It’s a cocoon,” Dan replied.
Eric glanced at him in question, his eyes betraying his terror. “A cocoon for what?”
“I don’t know. Something big and bad.”
The shufflers outside growled in frustration, their banging and hissing increasing in urgency as they tried to get at their prey. It was unusual for them to be so aggressive. From what Dan could remember, and read on the posts, shufflers were usually not aggressive. They were easily avoided as long as you were quiet. Even then, they typically weren’t as dangerous as the mutants.
“Let’s see if there’s a back door,” Dan said, slowly moving down the aisle. “Stay quiet.”
Eric followed him, and they both crept as quietly as possibly toward the archway behind the pews. The cocoon continued to quiver and pulsate, dropping small glops of slime onto the pews and the floor. Dan avoided the small puddles, leading Eric around them as he kept his eyes on the danger above.
But then, a loud sloshing and ripping sound erupted from the cocoon. A flood of slimy, stinking fluid spilled down to the floor, and a long, drawn out groan followed. Dan stopped, looking up, horrified.
“Shit,” he muttered. “It’s hatching.”
“What do we do?” Eric asked.
Dan flicked off his rifle’s safety, shooting Eric a determined look.
“Get ready,” he said. “The shit’s about to hit the fan.”
Chapter Eleven
Drew leaned his armload of rifles against the wall of his and Dan’s shed. Max laid the handguns down on a table, spreading them out. There were two M4A1s left, Cliff, Dan, and Eric having taken the others. He kept a tactical shotgun in his grasp, knowing that Travis would be likely to use it. He would give it to him, with a bunch of shells.
“Alright,” Drew said. “Let’s grab some of the canned food. We’ll figure out where to put it later. There are a few more rifles, but let’s leave those in the Hummer.”
Max nodded, stepping out the door. That’s when they both heard the nearby gunshot. Drew grabbed him, pulling him back inside, and took a rifle. He looked toward the opposite wall, seeing Cliff crouching atop his scaffolding. Travis poked his head out of his shed, shooting Drew a questioning look.
“Who is the leader here?” a voice called out.
Cliff dropped down from his perch, crouching as he ran toward Drew, keeping low and behind the sheds.
“I said, who is the leader here?”
The door to the office building opened up and Melanie stepped outside. Her dog followed, looking in Drew’s direction. Drew gritted his teeth. He stepped out and hung back behind the corner of the shed just as Melanie passed.
“What do you want?” Melanie asked as she reached the gate.
“We’re looking for two men that passed through our town yesterday.”
“Shit,” Drew whispered, knowing full well that Melanie would give them up. Mason and his boys must have followed them. But how?
“They’re here,” Melanie said. “But one of them is out.”
Fuck! Goddamn bitch.
Drew heard Max sigh.
“Give them up and nobody gets hurt,” the man said. “We will leave with them and leave you in peace.”
Drew heard the crunching of gravel as, presumably, Melanie went to the gate. The clanking of chains followed, and Drew knew that she was about to let them in. No fucking way, he thought. He peeked around the corner, seeing Melanie struggling with the lock on the chains. On the other side of the gate, Mason approached her, waving his men up. There were eight others. Evidently they had walked up from the highway. Otherwise, he knew, Cliff would have spotted them.
“Drew,” Cliff said behind him.
Travis had followed too, but Lena and Toby were nowhere to be seen. Drew hoped they were safe.
“We can’t let them in,” Drew said. “They’ll kill everyone.”
“I know,” Cliff said. “Let’s take care of business.”
Max handed Travis the shotgun then ducked into the shed across from Dan and Drew’s. “I’m afraid I have to bow out of this conflict until I receive proper firearms training,” he said.
“Max, come on!” Travis scolded.
Max didn’t respond.
Drew slapped a magazine into his M4, flicking off the safety, and turned to Travis. “It’s okay, man,” he said. “I’d rather he stay out of sight. He’ll be safer that way. Cliff, do you see anything on the other side?”
“Yeah,” Cliff replied. “There’s a pickup in the distance, down the road a ways. Looks like they have backup.”
“Is there any other way out besides the gate?” Drew asked.
“No,” Travis said. “No way to sneak up on them.”
“Max!” Melanie yelled. “Max, bring me the key!”
Max poked his head out of the shed. Drew shot him a dark look, and he ducked back inside. There was another crunching of gravel as Melanie came stomping their way. Mami got to them first, growling at Drew as she saw him hiding behind the corner.
“Fuck off, dog,” he hi
ssed quietly.
Melanie appeared then, her angry eyes locked on him. “Where’s Max?”
Drew grabbed her roughly and pulled her between the sheds. She struggled against him, flailing her fists as she groaned angrily. Cliff stood and clamped his hand around her mouth, shoving her into the empty shed and pulling Max outside. Max protested, but relented, not really wanting to share the space with Melanie. The dog growled, clamping on to Max’s shoe. He kicked her away, and she followed her master inside. Cliff slammed the doors shut, holding them closed while Drew slid an unused rifle into the two handles. Melanie’s howls of anger followed, accompanied by the sound of her fists hitting the doors.
“Let me out, goddamnit!” she shouted.
Drew peeked around the corner, seeing Mason waving his men up. Drew raised the rifle just as Mason stepped to the side.
“Damn,” he whispered, but fired anyway.
The shot startled the men, and they scattered, firing blindly. Bullets hit the sheds, sending splinters of wood flying. Cliff rushed across the gap to another shed, firing a few rounds as he ran. Drew took aim again, releasing a full-auto stream that caught one of Mason’s men in the torso.
“Oh boy, oh boy,” Max stuttered, his face taking on a panicked look.
Cliff fired at the gate. Rounds bounced off the metal mesh, sending the men scrambling. But, Drew heard a rumbling and crunching sound in the distance, telling him the truck parked downhill was rapidly coming their way.
“Son of a bitch,” Cliff hissed. “They’re gonna smash through the gate.”
Travis peeked around the other corner. “Damn right,” he said. “Here it comes.”
Where the fuck are Lena and Toby? Drew wondered.
“Watch out!” Cliff shouted.
The deafening crash of the gate being impacted threw Drew off guard. He recovered, fleeing with Cliff and Travis around the other side of the empty shed. Max stayed put, and Drew stared at him from behind his corner, slapping the side of the shed to get Max’s attention.
“Max!” he shouted through gritted teeth. “Run you stupid fucker!”