I loved her already. I chuckled. “Ted, we have a diva here.” I settled on a case of Purina Ultra-Nutritious Filet Mignon deli-packs, then tossed in another case of Chicken and Duck paté deli-packs, just in case. Okay, make it two cases each. Might as well clean the shelf.
“Jaz, get in here, now!”
My right hand instinctively jerked to my holster as I double-timed it inside, but when I re-entered the store, I saw Ted standing perfectly safe. He was wide-eyed, looking down at something I couldn't see behind the register.
“What is it?”
He looked up at me. “Come see this.”
I braced myself. Ted was spooked; more spooked than I’d ever seen him. He held a remote in his hand, his finger on the pause button. As I rounded the counter, I saw the screen and the TiVo box he pointed at.
I looked at the small screen, seeing the bright orange and white flash freeze-framed on it. My voice was soft, even gentle. “Ted, what the fuck is that?”
He pressed the play button. The flash expanded, blossoming into a dusty cloud, rising from the ground in the unmistakable shape of a mushroom. Holy fuck!
Ted’s voice shook. “That’s Boston, man. They fucking nuked Boston.” He looked at me, color draining from his face. “Why the fuck did we do this?” He was losing it.
I grabbed the remote from him, rewinding the footage. It was clearly from a drone, and was date stamped 11/01/2017. I’d seen the jerky images before, during intel briefings where we were shown target buildings. My initial thought was what crazy asshole would be stupid enough to launch a nuclear attack on US soil? I must have said it out loud, because Ted spat on the floor as we simultaneously answered: “Trump.”
Our scorn turned to horror as we watched. This video was different. Instead of targets, it showed a war-zone. The city of Boston was devastated. The City Hall building and the Faneuil Hall were half-demolished from what looked like airstrikes. Fires burned across downtown, and tanks lay littered on many street corners. A battle had already been fought and, by all indications, lost here.
The screen adjusted as the sun passed under the horizon, but what happened next caused a lump of frozen lead to drop into my stomach. The drone’s cameras centered on a grassy area near the middle of the city. A sickly green glow formed, turning red and flowing outward, consuming the trees. I watched as they fell into the gaping maw of what had been grassy earth.
Out of this mouth poured hundreds, no, thousands of dark shapes. Large, small, formless shapes. Others, bizarre winged figures, scattered through the skies. The camera didn’t have time to zoom in before the flash. There was a burst of static before the drone’s EMP-hardened systems compensated and the mushroom cloud filled the screen. The shockwave crumpled the skyscrapers and demolished the city, but as the dust cleared, the dark shapes continued their advance, as if the nuclear fire had simply been an April shower.
“Fuck.”
Ted’s one word said it all. Fuck! If nukes couldn’t kill whatever these things were, we were screwed.
I looked down, my mind working furiously as I tried to handle the sensory overload. I was standing on a newspaper. Not a mainstream publication, just a local rag – the Devil’s Lake Daily. I lifted it up and spread in on the counter. On the front was a grainy picture of a body. A sandwich board concealed most of his torso, but the dark stains surrounding it and the unnatural position of his limbs confirmed the nature of his death. His severed arm lay over a foot from the rest of his body, but it was the message on the sandwich board that chilled me.
Satan’s Trick-or-Treaters are here. Repent or die! The only word not smeared with blood was…
“Treaters,” said Ted. He looked at me, eyes vacant with shock. “I guess the joke’s on us, bro.”
“Man, we gotta go.” I grabbed his arm. We had enough supplies for now. We could always scavenge more on the way to the O'Reilly cabin. The world didn’t need them anymore.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s gas up and get to your dad’s cabin, okay?”
Ted nodded, shaking his head to clear it. He looked sheepishly at me. “Sorry, Jaz. I got freaked out there. I…I don’t know what to think.”
I grasped his hand. Mine shook as much as his. “Let’s just get to Johnnie, okay?” Yeah. Let’s get back to him. Johnnie always knew what to do.
I jumped when my cell phone rang, vibrating in my pocket. I knew who it was without even looking. I put it to my ear. “Top, what’s up?”
His hushed tones on the other end confirmed he didn’t want Bill to hear. “Jaz, there is something completely fubar here, bud. I called our folks on the sat phone. No answer. I even called my Uncle Declan in Ireland. Nothing. No one is answering, man.”
I filled him in on what we’d found, listening to him curse. “John, we’re on our way. We have to fill up with gas, and we’ll be there in a couple of hours, okay?”
He breathed down the phone. “Jesus, Jaz. Is this it? Is this the end? Are we all that’s left?”
Fuck, I hoped not. “See you soon, bro. I’ll even bring beer.”
John snorted. “Fuck, I need something a lot stronger than Coors, buddy.”
I chuckled, looking at the well-stocked liquor cabinet, just a crowbar smash away. “One bottle of Maker’s Mark coming right up. Just what the doctor ordered?”
“Oorah, man.” Johnnie’s voice intensified. “Be safe.”
“You too, bro.”
I turned to Ted. “Come on. It’s getting dark, and we don’t know how long the power will hold out. We better hit the road.” I whistled, and Tray trotted alongside and hopped into the open door of the pickup. Ted climbed into the back, and we drove to the gas station on the outskirts of town.
“At least the power’s still on,” Ted called through the back window, his voice uncharacteristically optimistic. “No need to siphon it out.”
I nodded as I pulled up alongside the fuel pumps. “I’ll go inside and see if I can get things flowing. You man the hose.”
Tray whimpered and I rubbed her behind the ears, opening the door so she could hop out to do her business. She seemed nervous and distracted, and it took a moment for me to see what she fretted over. The windows in the gas station were smashed, and the telltale red smears covered the forecourt. Of course. This gas station was open twenty-four hours. They were probably one of the first places hit.
I steeled myself for the carnage I knew lay ahead. I’d had my fill of it today, but the pump had to be authorized before we could get any gas. The odor of blood and human waste wafted on a breeze. The interior was as I expected, but thankfully the pump controls were intact. I had to wipe the gruesome remains of the operator off, but I soon received the thumbs-up from Ted.
Outside, the street lights flicked into life in the gathering dusk. I shivered. The sooner we were at the O’Reilly cabin, the better. I walked back to the truck, letting Tray inside as Ted continued pumping the gas.
“Check your oil and wash the windshield, sir?” Ted’s mood had brightened at the prospect of leaving this slaughterhouse behind.
I chuckled and got behind the wheel, just as Tray started to bark. “Hey, girl. Calm down.” She jumped up on the rear bench seat in the crew cab and growled out the window. I grinned, thinking she was directing her ire at Ted, but when I glanced into the rear-view mirror, my heart dropped into my stomach. A lurid red glow reflected off a shop front about half a mile back. My pulse raced like a derby winner and a chill ran down my spine.
“Ted, get in the truck!”
His head snapped around at the tone in my voice. “We’re not full yet. What’s up?” He followed my gaze in time to see over a dozen dark forms skitter around the corner and race toward us. “Shit!”
He pulled the nozzle out and threw it onto the ground, fumbling for the filler cap. Habit, I mused, surprised at my inane observation. His hand shook as he replaced the gas cap, costing us precious seconds. Fuck! I retrieved my AR-15 and got out of the pickup, sighting at the approaching mass. They were around a hun
dred yards away when I opened fire. I saw the impact as some of my rounds hit, and a few of the horrors stumbled. Yes!
I was stunned when the fallen ones got up and started toward us again, like fuckin zombies from The Walking Dead. The fuck? That shit was for television, not North Dakota! I tossed the weapon into the cab and jumped back behind the wheel, reaching over to shove the passenger door open and shout at Ted to hurry the fuck up.
Ted finally finished and ran to the door. I looked in the mirror; the small indistinct forms were still about fifty yards away. I breathed a breath I didn’t remember holding, as I realized we’d made it.
I gunned the engine. Ted’s left leg entered the footwell and I heard him grunt. I looked across, ready to shout at him for being so goddamned slow.
The smell hit me first. A stench of corruption, rot, and wrongness assailed my senses. The overhead lights of the gas station outlined a blackness that drank in the light. I caught sight of a reptilian lower body and a torso covered with filthy, blood-matted fur. The thing had to be ten feet tall, at least. I caught sight of fur-covered calves meeting scales on the thighs, and blinked. Nothing in nature had created this thing.
Ted’s body shot out of the cab, talons almost a foot long speared through his chest. He looked at me with terror-filled eyes, silently begging me to help through blood-specked lips, but I sat stunned, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. He nodded then, and I knew he knew. I saw his body rise up and heard a sickening crunch as I watched his legs spasming, before my friend’s headless body was tossed to the mass of smaller abominations.
“Motherfucker!” I screamed and floored the pedal. Tray’s barks echoed around the cabin as I raced away, leaving my dead brother behind me.
The tires squealed, drowning out Tray’s vocal attacks. She scrambled back onto the seat and continued barking. Deep inside, I admired her courage and imagined her defending her mistress…anything other than imagining Ted’s body in the claws of that abomination.
I had seen the mass of small bodies pouncing on the remains my friend. I smiled bitterly. I hope the bastards choke on your bones, bro. I watched the view retreating in the mirror, still not believing what the fuck had just happened.
The transmission pulled oddly, and I looked at the dashboard. The speedometer passed sixty miles-per-hour, and the thump and lurch caught me off guard. I’d been too consumed by the macabre scene behind me to concentrate on my own situation.
The huge…Treater… had jumped into the open-topped trailer. It leaned down, gazing in at me through the back window of the pickup. Its red eyes pierced my soul in that instant. It folded a pair of large, horn-tipped wings behind its back and stared. The hair on my neck stood up, my teeth chattered, and despair flooded me…fuck, I wanted to die. It was the only thing I wanted. Visions of my family flashed in my eyes as I struggled with the wheel. Then I stopped. I just…stopped, my foot easing off the accelerator, and I smiled.
Sherri called to me. She needed me, and Tommy was there beside her. I gave up the struggle, and my heart soared in relief. The dark forms weren’t monsters. They were angels, come to take me back to the family I loved. I welcomed death, but then a sharp jab of pain broke the enchantment. Tray had nipped my hand, before leaning back and resuming her defiant barking.
It was all I needed; whatever spell the beast had cast shattered as I regained my senses…just in time to see a shimmering figure standing in the middle of the road, illuminated by the headlights. Instinct took over and I swerved the car to the right to avoid hitting the person. I rounded a bend, jerking sharply to the left. The trailer jackknifed for an instant, before snapping straight back against the tow bar. I didn’t quite hear the crunch as the monster took out a telephone pole on its journey into the deep ravine but my transmission could tell the difference all right. I slowed, then backed up, looking in the rearview mirror. There was no sign of the mysterious figure that had glowed in the middle of the roadway, illuminated by my headlights. I knew with certainty I hadn't hit the person. Maybe they were a survivor with their own plan that didn't involve getting picked up in the middle of the road? Maybe I’d been seeing things? At this point, I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was get the fuck out of Dodge.
I reached over, patting Tray as I accelerated again, grimacing as the misshapen trailer made a few metal on blacktop noises of protest until I got her up to speed. “Good girl…who’s a good girl?” She licked my knuckles where she’d nipped me. This simple act made my eyes fill, but I knew there wasn't time. Later. There would be time later. I floored the pedal, listening as the engine roared. Ted was dead. My face shifted into the mask he’d always worn. Grim. Determined. Certain he was going to die. I had to put some distance in before I could grieve. Those things were following me.
Chapter Four
The Farm
I couldn’t see a thing, except the headlights on an empty road. I couldn’t stop. The darkness scared me shitless. These things ruled the night, the shadows that killed so indiscriminately, so I kept driving, even as my eyelids drooped, even as Tray leapt up to lick my face to keep me awake.
Lights, but not one sign of life anywhere on either side of the road; my mind’s eye imagined those…things…chasing me down, easily running as fast as my F-250.
A flask of coffee, brewed in a dead diner hours earlier, kept me going as I sped through empty towns. Nothing lived. I didn’t need to explore to know they’d suffered the same fate as the others.
I passed an all-night diner we’d stopped at on the way to the lake. I slowed down, hoping to see something. There was one truck in the lot. The flame effect over the hood was covered in something. I knew wasn’t paint. I remembered Ted’s argument with the same truck driver, two weeks earlier. He’d blocked us into a parking space, and all we had wanted to do was go fish. Ted’s quiet conversation with the driver had resulted in a rapid retreat.
I drove on, eyelids drooping. I’d been hyped up on adrenaline the entire day, and I was crashing hard.
Tray yelped when I lost control a couple of hours later, slamming into me as I skidded around a bend. The vehicle rocked as I struggled for control of the wheel. The back wheels hit the edge of a ditch, and the speed we were going almost flipped us over.
Us. The word echoed in my head as I reached over to rub Tray’s head. We might be the last two living souls on the planet.
After this near miss, she curled up in a tight ball in the passenger seat footwell.
This latest adrenaline rush kept me going long enough to almost kill both of us.
The slam of the fence woke me up. My flaccid arms tightened on the wheel as the pickup left the ground. Tray whined. This was it. Something deep inside me welcomed it. If I were truly alone, if my family were gone, maybe the best thing was to die.
Then the ground met the wheels of the truck. Dirt exploded over the front of the truck as it drove into the soft, muddy earth. The airbags exploded with a bang and mine hit me like a punch to my face. Instantly, I was wide awake, coughing on the cloud of stinging white powder filling the cab. My teeth jarred as the truck careered over the perfectly-formed furrows in the ploughed field, carving a lane of its own across them. Instinctively, I hit the brakes. Why, I didn’t know. They were useless.
The vehicle shook violently as it bounced over a small stream. Then I saw the tree.
It was huge, the trunk almost as wide as the pickup. I swung the wheel to the right, not that it mattered. With a final flurry of muck, the vehicle buried its nose in the ground and shuddered to a stop a few feet from the tree, dirt caking the windshield and side windows. Shit, the mud even slid down to cover the back window.
Tray jumped out of the footwell, panting and trembling, but wagging her tail, clearly glad to be alive. She came to me, pawing at me, so I held her and patted her soothing, even as I shuddered myself and tried to get my own breath under control.
I looked around. The windows were coated with dirt and the cab was covered in white powder; I couldn’t see outside. We were
in the middle of nowhere, thank God. Those bastards loved life, loved taking it, but thankfully, the only life around here was me and Tray.
Shit. I’d never had a dog before, but as this panting ball of furry cuteness looked up at me with a goofy doggy smile and a drooling tongue, something inside me broke. Realizing we might be alone, and what she’d saved me from…I sat back against the seat and finally let myself cry.
Tray licked my tears away for a while, before curling up beside my hip, her head in my lap. I breathed. I realized at last how tired I was. Shit.
My hands shook. Ted!
Ted was dead, horribly, unalterably dead. Fuck!
He was dead and…I hadn’t done anything to help him.
Tray climbed up onto my chest and licked my face, soon finding my right ear and going to town on it, as if cleaning that ear to white-glove perfection were her life's goal. I laughed softly and hugged her. When she considered her job done, she pulled back to look at me, cocking her head slightly, as if to ask, “We good here, bro?” Her mismatched eyes looked into mine as if berating me for my feelings of guilt. It was as if she was telling me what my logical self knew already…yeah, Ted was dead, and if I’d hesitated a second longer than I had, we’d be dead too.
“Tray…” I grasped the dog’s long fur. “You have no idea how glad I am to have you here.”
I buried my head in the dog’s coat and held her, shedding a few more tears, my body trembling with the release of tension. The windows were covered in mud, but I wouldn't have cared if anyone had seen me crying. Plenty to cry about, in today's world. Tray licked my face for a while, and I patted her back, grateful for the pure, innocent love of a dog. I refilled the bowl I now kept in the console and offered her water. She sniffed politely but ignored it. Fine. She wouldn’t need to piss, then, so we could sleep. I reclined my seat and Tray managed to make herself comfortable again. I lay there for a long moment, peering out through the gaps in the mud splattering the windows and seeing nothing but darkness. I hoped we were far enough from civilization to avoid attracting the Treaters. It took a while, but I fell asleep stroking Tray’s fur, dreams of monsters filling the night.
Treaters: Book One of the Divine Conflict. Page 4