Dark Screams, Volume 9

by Dark Screams- Volume 9 (retail) (epub)

  “Just do this. I’ll pay for the rooms. Take Viv and the kids out to Charlesville. Call me in the morning, and I’ll tell you everything.”

  “What about Lisa?”

  All I could tell him was that I thought she would be fine.

  I kissed my daughters, Dru and then Gwen, and I held their hands, leading them through the main office. Duke and the other men were milling around by the holding area, whispering to one another, falling silent when I caught their eye. A pang of worry flashed in my gut. Maybe Sykes had clued them in on our last conversation, but that didn’t matter.

  I could deal with the fallout if there was a tomorrow.

  At the front door of the station, I knelt down for another kiss from my girls. “You two be good and do everything Mr. and Mrs. Mayflower tell you, okay?”

  “We will, Daddy,” they said in unison.

  I was afraid to let them go. Honestly, I wondered if I’d ever see them again.

  “I love you both very much,” I said, hugging them to me tightly. “Now let’s hurry. Daddy has some work to do.”

  Les opened the door to the station house, still looking concerned. Over his shoulder I saw the vast marshy area spreading out from the street, the trees waving in the evening breeze.

  And I saw the man running down the road.

  And I saw the things sprinting at his back.

  6

  His name was Hugh Wrightley, and he didn’t stand a chance. Hugh was a thirtysomething graphic artist who worked up in Marrenville. He had a wife, a baby boy. I hoped they were still safe behind the locked doors of their home. As for Hugh, he was pumping his arms and legs as fast as he could, wasting no energy by screaming or checking over his shoulder. He’d probably never run so fast in his life, but it wasn’t nearly fast enough.

  Three of the things, from a distance looking identical to the beast I’d seen the night before, gave chase. Half a block up, one of the pack dove, caught Hugh’s ankle with its hand and sent the artist crashing face-first into the pavement. The three piled on him a second later.

  Now, Hugh took the time to scream. Their animal faces buried in his back, ripping away cloth and skin and muscle amid low sprays of blood. Hugh’s legs slapped the pavement, at first struggling but soon just convulsing spasmodically as death took him.

  I searched the parking lot, scanning for any movement. The first thing I saw was Les’s station wagon, and two frightened faces peering through the windshield. Viv and Maggie were not seeing the brutal disassembly of Hugh Wrightley, but they saw our expressions, and that was enough.

  “Get them out of the car,” I yelled at Les, already ushering my own children back into the station. “Duke, get Dru and Gwen back to my office.”

  My daughters were screeching, high and persistent. They backed away from the open door slowly, too slowly.

  “Go on,” I said. “Get in there. Duke will take care of you.”

  With that my girls scurried toward the open door of my office. Duke met them halfway across the room and scooped Dru into his arm, holding a shotgun in the other. He followed Gwen, scooting her along with bumps of his knee.

  I looked back at the street and pulled my gun. The three beasts still worked over the man on the pavement, but they were no longer alone. The rest of the pack, some tall, some short, one stooped like a movie hunchback, gathered over them. At that distance, I saw them clearly enough. They were all extremely muscular. All were tinged in shades of gray from the old meat color of Sykes to a deeper, nearly charcoal hue. Their faces all stretched into elongated, fang-filled muzzles, and they were all looking at me.

  Their leader was easy to pick out, just as he had been at the park earlier. Even transformed, he was striking. A shock of white hair rolled back from the canine face, draping like a mane over his rounded shoulders. His abdomen, flat and long and ridged with muscles, ran up to vast pectorals, gray and smooth and heaving as if for breath.

  I could not see his eyes from such a distance, but imagined they still held that expression of calculation, weighing the situation, planning the attack. We were fucked. I knew that then. Totally fucked.

  Taking the lead, the alpha began a measured trot toward the station.

  I checked on Les, who was just pulling Maggie out of the car. Viv was still sliding across the front seat toward them.

  “Come on,” I called.

  Les looked up with absolute terror in his eyes, but he had Maggie in his arms and Viv was climbing out of the car. The alpha was in a full run now. Already at the intersection, it wouldn’t take but another handful of seconds for him to cross the lot.

  I stepped out of the doorway, aimed my revolver at the charging creature. It veered sharply to the right and disappeared into the brush lining the lot. His pack was less strategic. They charged ahead.

  I fired, clipping the side of a smaller one. It spun, roared, did an amazingly graceful sweep of its leg over the pavement and was back on its feet, running in less than three seconds.

  “Inside,” I shouted, firing again. The second bullet hit nothing, or if it did, had no effect. Les pushed past me, clutching his frantic daughter. Viv knocked me forward with her shoulder. Sent off balance, I squeezed a third shot and it ricocheted harmlessly off the concrete.

  In four quick motions, I was back in the station, door closed, lock thrown. The room behind me was in chaos. Bucky and Ed were shouting questions. Les Mayflower and his family ran from one desk to the other, unsure where to go. In my office, Duke was trying to console my daughters, who were fighting with him, struggling to escape and run to me.

  To serve and protect, right? Well, I started with the civilians.

  “Les, get Viv and Maggie in the office.”

  He looked at me, confused and frightened.

  “Get them behind a locked door. Duke, give Vivian your sidearm.”

  “She can’t shoot,” Les argued.

  “She can if she has to.”

  Duke did as he was told, pulling his service revolver from his hip, releasing the safety and handing the weapon to Viv Mayflower. She hurried into my office and clutched the edge of the door. Beyond her, Gwen and Dru were holding Maggie to them as if protecting a sister.

  Then the door closed, and they were gone.

  “Bucky, give Les your shotgun. Go get another out of the cabinet. In fact, get all of the weapons out. Pile ’em up in the middle of the room.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Ed called, already hunkered down behind a desk, his shotgun ready for a target.

  “We’re under attack. Get on the radio and call the state boys. Get them over here now!”

  He gave me a concerned, uncertain look. Nodded.

  Then the window behind me exploded, and I hit the floor.

  —

  Glass rained down on my back. Something heavy pushed against my shoulder blades driving me onto the linoleum. I cracked my chin, squirmed against the weight, but it was already gone. Duke and Ed were firing their shotguns over my head. Les shouted my name. I rolled onto my back, caught a flash of something gray to my right, working its way deeper into the office.

  The beast had two small swells of breast indicating a female. She bore down on Les, moving fast. Like the others, she was strongly built, moving lithely with cords of muscle flexing and relaxing in rhythmic motion. Her one full arm swatted the air as if trying to knock the buckshot from my deputies’ shells to the ground. This beast used to be a beautiful young woman, a girl of Hispanic, possibly Native American descent—just a kid. But now she was something wholly different, a creature with lethal intent, and she was closing in on Les. In the corner by my office, he struggled with his own shotgun. I don’t know if it was jammed or if he’d neglected to release the safety, but he had the barrel pointed at the ceiling and he was looking along the stock.

  Another blast startled me. The beast fell sideways, hitting the ground hard, much of her ribcage caved. Les swung his barrel down and at point blank range blew the side of her head away, spreading a dark stain ove
r the linoleum at his feet.

  “Bill,” Duke shouted. “Stay down.”

  A torrent of shots ran over my head. Ed was reloading but Duke was spraying the air above me. A moment later, Les joined him.

  I crawled on my belly, past the reception desk and through the thigh-high door that separated the reception area from the office space. Once there, out of the line of fire, I got to my feet. They were swarming at the window. Gray bodies, one hardly discernible from the other for all of the movement, battled for space.

  “What in the fuck are those things?” Ed asked.

  “Don’t ask,” I said.

  Ed looked at me like I’d just sprouted horns and a tail. “What do they want?” he asked.

  “They want Sykes.”

  “Well, goddamn it! Just give him to them.”

  “It’s a bit late for that,” I said.

  “Hey,” Duke shouted. “They’re gone.”

  I looked at the window, the wall around it pocked and ruined by buckshot, and saw that Duke was right. Through the opening, I saw the parking lot, the street, the marshland.

  They were regrouping.

  “Stay on your toes,” I said. I had no doubt this was only a temporary respite.

  Les worked his way across the office, staying low as he did until he bumped up against me. Bucky emerged from the hall, two shotguns resting across his arms. He also cradled three service revolvers and boxes of shells. Instead of taking a chance by walking in front of the open window, he crossed to the low wall, slid over Duke’s desk, and moved slowly toward the rest of us.

  The window in the hall behind him exploded. Startled, Bucky dropped all of the weapons and then did a strange little dance, as he fought to withdraw his sidearm.

  A blur of gray flew through the window, hit the floor just across the divider. It shot a long-fingered hand out, grabbed Bucky’s shirt front and then in a smooth motion whirled, flinging the young officer at the shattered window. His back snapped loud as a gunshot on the window frame. His legs, still whipping through the air, continued through the window. The momentum carried him out and into the hands and mouths of four of the pack, who disappeared with him a moment later.

  It happened so quickly Bucky didn’t have time to scream. We hadn’t gotten off a single shot.

  And the beast was gone, back through the window. The four of us remaining stared silently, trying to process exactly what had just happened.

  “That’s not real,” Ed whispered next to me. “It’s a trick.”

  “God help us,” Les said. “Dear Lord, protect your children in this time of…”

  “Les,” I said. “Keep it together.”

  I crawled around him and retrieved one of the shotguns, started pushing shells into it. Duke shouted, “They’re in the building,” and began firing toward the hallway where the second window had shattered. From my place on the floor, I could hear the girls crying in my office. The sound of it tore me up inside. I’d been stupid bringing them here. I’d been stupid about so many things.

  Once the shotgun was loaded, I set it down next to me and repeated the process. Then I loaded the revolvers and scooted the whole pile across the floor to where we had taken up our position. I didn’t even see what Ed was doing until Duke shouted, “Get your ass over here and help us.”

  But Ed was at the door to the holding area. He figured he’d just let out prisoner out, give him over to the attacking pack. Problem solved. He already had his key in the lock. He was going for Sykes, not understanding that Sykes was already gone.

  “Ed, don’t go in there,” I yelled. “That’s an order.”

  But it was too late. He slipped through the door. I can only imagine that the beast Sykes had become caught Ed near the bars. We heard his scream, high and shrill and brief, and then the disgusting, wet sounds of eating.

  If we could get these damned things to pull back, to retreat even a little, I could go back there myself. I could pump buckshot into Sykes’s head like Les had done with the first one. His death might be enough for the pack, though more and more, I doubted it. We weren’t just enemies; we were food.

  A shadow moved in the corridor. Duke and Les fired repeatedly at the motion, but the beast kept itself behind the wall, just out of range. The thing was smart. It was getting them to use up their ammunition.

  “Stop firing,” I said. “You’re wasting your shots.”

  “How many of the fuckers are out there?” Duke asked.

  “Eight,” I said.

  “No,” he said. “I know I hit at least three of them in the window.”

  “Hitting them isn’t enough.”

  “Dear Lord,” Les said. “This is our punishment for breaking God’s laws. Don’t you see, Bill? Our abomination brought this down on the world.”

  “What the hell is he talking about?” Duke asked.

  “Not sure,” I said uncomfortably. “But give him a break. We can’t afford to have him lose it any more than he already has.”

  “That’s a lie,” Les said. “A lie. You know what we did, Bill. You know our sin. We have to admit our sin and repent. We must accept his judgment.”

  “Les,” I said with a sharp warning in my voice. “We do not have time for this. If your God is so pissed off at us that he’d kill all of these innocent people, then fuck him. My guess is, he has better things to worry about. Now, reload you rifle and shut up.”

  “I hate to break this up,” Duke said, “whatever it is, but what are we supposed to do, Bill?”

  “Go for the legs or the head,” I told him. “Body shots don’t slow them down much. If we get them on the ground we’ve got a chance.”

  “You think we can get those windows sealed up?” Duke asked.

  “No. I honestly don’t.”

  To prove my point, the stooped beast—the one that I imagined had been an old woman in her human form—flew through the opening and into the room as if launched from a cannon. She landed on the desk to our left, sending a cascade of papers and pens into the air over Les’s head. He yelped and ducked low, rolled under the desk.

  Duke blew out her ankle with a blast, sending her crashing to the desk. I moved fast. Got my barrel under her chin, saw the pain and fear in her eyes. I didn’t allow myself to pity the old woman until after I pulled the trigger, sending most of her skull and its contents across the room.

  “Good work, Boss,” Duke said.

  “Don’t get cocky.” I crouched down to check on Les.

  He was curled up in the space, glaring at me. He looked around, surveying the underside of the desk, his gun held tight to his body.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Actually, I’m getting really pissed off.”

  His answer surprised me, but I was glad to hear it. I’d expected him to be babbling prayers or having a complete breakdown. It could have gone either way. The trauma could have sent him over the edge; instead, it pulled him a good distance back from it. I offered him my hand and half dragged him out from under the desk. He made it the rest of the way on his own.

  “Duke,” I said. “What have we got?”

  “Still got the one in the hallway, maybe two. For now, they’re staying away from the window.”

  That hallway was our weakest point. From where we were taking up positions, we didn’t have a clear shot. Once the pack figured that out, they could enter through the window, gather back there and charge us. There were still seven of the beasts if I’d counted correctly. If even three of them tried that, we’d be so distracted the rest could easily slip in the front.

  Glass crashed behind us. The sound came from the holding area, but that didn’t have me too concerned. All of the cells had windows, but they also had bars imbedded in the concrete. Besides, if they got Sykes, it would buy us a little time. Maybe they’d be so enthralled with taking him apart, the rest of us could slip out the front.

  The key was to get their numbers down. Right now, they could keep us surrounded, trapped in the station house. We might not be abl
e to kill them all, but we had to start thinning the pack. At least then we’d have a chance.

  We needed to have a man on the other side of the room divider, close to the front door. From there, he would have a clear shot into the hall, and maybe we could keep the beasts from gathering for a charge.

  I explained the idea to my men again, figuring I’d be the one to cross that boundary. Duke spoke up.

  “You’d better let me do it,” Duke said. “No offense, Bill, but you’re a lousy shot.”

  “No offense taken. You’re right,” I said. “We’ll be able to cover the window and anything that tries to cross the reception area from the hallway. But they may go for the front door. If they break through that, you’re going to have to get out of there fast.”

  “No problem.”

  Les and I took up positions behind the desk Ed had used, putting us just off center of the room. Duke climbed onto the reception desk and slid over.

  He immediately began firing into the hall, and the first beast charged forward. He got the legs out from under it with a shot that blew out its knee. I took care of the rest. The second one leaped through the window cutting a diagonal line across the room, but instead of taking Duke off guard and flinging him out to the others, as they’d done with Bucky, the thing miscalculated. Overshot. It landed on the floor and slid into the reception desk. Duke rolled, aimed, and blew a significant hole in its crotch, a second in its belly. It bent down, whether in reaction to its wounds or in an attempt to attack, I didn’t know. Duke shoved the barrel of his gun up and fired. The shot took out most of the thing’s neck, including the spine that held up its skull. It hit the floor with a moist slap.

  Something odd happened then. Duke didn’t see it from his position on the floor, and I don’t think Les noticed. He was hurriedly reloading his shotgun.

  The alpha male appeared, stepping from the shadows and into the light being cast from the office. His powerful torso was perfectly framed by the shattered window. His shock of white hair was disheveled and he had a deep wound along the side of his face. He looked in at me, eyes burning with intelligence and rage. He was done fooling around. I don’t know how I knew it, but I knew it. He’d lost nearly half his pack in the last handful of minutes and still didn’t have what he’d come for.