by M. D. Massey
He hung his head and started to cry. “It took her, didn’t it? I told you! I told you something bad was gonna happen, but you didn’t listen! Now Elena’s gone and that thing killed her mom, and it’s your fault!” He screamed the last bit at me, and turned away.
I sighed. “Look, kid, I had no idea something like this would happen. Heck, I saw it take off with her, and I still can barely believe what I saw. The thing is, we can’t stay here. Whatever it is that took Elena is long gone, and if we stay here it’s going to come back for us too. Best that we just leave and put this behind us before we end up dead as well.”
He turned toward me, and I didn’t need lights to see the look of accusation on his face. “You’re a coward. You’re a coward, and I’m sorry I ever agreed to help you!”
Before responding, I paused and took a deep breath. “Maybe so, kid, but I’m a living coward. And I’ll be honest, I don’t like this whole deal any more than you do. But I plan to have my ass on the road and long gone before that thing comes back. Now, you can stay here or you can come with me; it’s up to you. But I’m out of here regardless of your decision or how you feel about me.”
Right about then, the sound of the window creaking open interrupted our argument. We both turned to look, and I saw the very thing that had killed Lupita and taken Elena just moments before, crawling through the window Gollum-style to finish what it had started. The kid froze like a spotlighted deer, and all I could think was that I was hella glad I had some firepower with me, because this thing looked like the grim reaper itself. Without a second to spare, I pushed Rayden behind me and reached for my Glock, hoping like hell that 200 grain hollow points would be enough to take this thing down.
11
Cry
Whatever it was, it was definitely not human, although it had humanoid characteristics. It moved like a cross between a spider and a snake, with rapid skittering movements that were disconcertingly sinuous and bug-like all at once. Strangely, it wore fatigues, combat boots, and a rain poncho with the hood pulled up. I couldn’t see a face, but I guessed it was going to be ugly by the way it moved.
“Screw me blue and call me Willy Wonka,” I muttered as I pulled my Glock and drew a bead on the thing.
As I fired, I took a lesson from my previous experiences with the deaders and immediately started going for headshots. Now, a lot of people think that just because you’re an Army Ranger and you were in the “Special Forces” you can shoot the balls off a gnat at 300 yards with just about any firearm. And, they’re wrong. Most of the guys I knew in the Regiment never touched a pistol except for recreation, although almost every one of them could place a nice tight grouping in the ten ring at 300 yards with an M4. And the snipers? Forget it. Those guys are trained to be 100 percent successful in taking out a target at over 800 yards in two shots or less.
But again, when it came to being a serious shooter with a sidearm, most Rangers weren’t. Personally, my handgunning skills were limited to growing up plinking on the ranch, taking a few combat shooting courses before and after my time in the service, and also spending not an inconsiderable amount of time on the range with a handgun. So, I was definitely no slouch, but I was no freaking Doc Holiday, that’s for sure, and this thing took full advantage of my lack of accuracy to keep me from planting one in its noggin. As soon as I fired the first shot, it started pulling an Agent Smith on me, displaying contortions with its spine and neck that no human ever could… and especially not at that speed.
I used one arm to keep the kid behind me and angled away from it as it stalked us, tossing a desk over and kicking a cot in its way as it came at us. As I’d hoped, it decided to come around the mess rather than over it, and that’s when I stitched it right up the torso with three well-placed shots, one right after another. It was a technique I’d learned from a homicide cop I’d trained with, using the recoil of the weapon to hit multiple torso targets, “stitching” an assailant right up the centerline.
As it so happened, my first shot was off-center and I caught it in the right hip. I saw it falter as it took another step, so I fired the remainder of the magazine into its torso. It screamed bloody murder with a wail that would have given a banshee a run for her money. Suddenly, it snatched up Lupita’s corpse and bolted for the window almost faster than my eyes could track. I figured I must have hurt it, but the fact that it was still moving fast despite any injuries it might have sustained gave me pause. Before I could even drop the empty mag and reload, it went out the window. I rushed over to see which way it was headed, and thought I saw a shadow going the same direction it had just a few minutes prior.
I turned to the kid and checked him over to make sure he was alright. He shrugged me off and pouted himself over to a nearby cot. “That thing was coming back for me,” he said, and his voice trembled in fear as he spoke.
It was really the first time I’d seen the kid rattled since I met him. Oh, he’d been a little riled back at the tanker, but this was pure, unadulterated fear he experienced. I knew, because I’d experienced it myself the first time my unit had seen combat. Fact was I had nearly shit myself the first time I saw the elephant, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.
His face was illuminated by the fluorescent light streaming in from the hallway, and I could see the look of fear and desperation on his face as he pleaded with me. “I couldn’t even help her, and she’s just a little kid. You have to go after her, Sully. You have to!”
It only took me a moment to decide. After seeing that thing, I knew I just couldn’t stand around and let a child be terrorized and killed by something like that. I also realized that if I didn’t go after Elena, it would haunt me until the day I died.
I nodded, and I could see the kid’s posture relax a little. “Alright, but if I’m going to follow it we need to get a move on. For one, those soldiers are going to be up here soon to see what all the commotion was, although I figure they already have a clue as to what might have happened. Also, I’m going to need to get you someplace safer than this before daylight, because there’s no way I’m leaving you with these people.”
“You think they set us up?”
“Yeah, kid, I do. I don’t know why, but if you put two and two together it’s the only thing that makes sense.” I counted off on my fingers as I broke it down. “One: the people disappearing that Bibi told us about. Two: the fact that they separated us from the rest of the people staying here. None of the locals were placed in this room with us. In fact, we’re about as far from the rest of the refugees as can be. Three: all that crazy talk Lupita was spouting. And four: the fact that they locked us in. Look, we’ll talk about it more once we get you someplace safe, but we’re not staying in this loony bin another minute. Let’s go.”
The kid got up to follow me, and then he stopped suddenly. “What if that thing is waiting for us?”
“It’s not. I think I hurt it—and besides, it probably figures we’ll sit tight and hunker down. The last thing it’s expecting is to be hunted, which is probably going to make it hella easy to track.” I paused. “Look, I know I was being selfish, but I’m going to get her back.”
He didn’t say a word after that, the whole way back to the truck.
Just to be safe, we broke into a garage apartment across the street from where I’d parked the truck. Lots of homes in Fredericksburg had them, as bed and breakfasts were a major part of the economy in these parts. Sure enough, this one was set up more like a hotel room than an apartment, with a combination bedroom and living area just as we walked in, a bath off to the side, a small kitchenette with a sink, a dorm fridge, and a microwave. I got the kid settled in and made sure he had food and water in case I didn’t come back that night. I sure as hell didn’t want him out sneaking around, even to go to the truck across the street. We had no idea what was stalking the night out there, and I had no intentions of him getting taken by the boogie man.
After that I waited until it was getting light, then snuck back over to the high school to start trac
king that thing. I had to be extra careful; I didn’t want the guards or sheriff’s deputies to see me, and I preferred them simply assuming we had all been taken in the night by our mysterious and creepy visitor. I had a feeling they wouldn’t be looking for me, but after I picked up the trail I didn’t take any chances, keeping a low profile as I followed the signs the creature left to where it was headed.
Picking up the trail wasn’t all that difficult; it left quite an indentation in the ground when it landed. I guessed that 200-some-odd pounds of monster and corpse would do that upon jumping a two stories to the ground. I also spotted some blood spatters, not much but enough to track by. It was tacky, dark, and looked older than it should have been. There was definitely not as much as I would have expected, considering how many times I’d hit it. That told me what all the other information I’d gathered thus far had been pointing to; this thing, whatever it was, was something other than human.
I tried to psyche myself up, knowing that I needed to be all business from here on out. No shit it’s not human, Sully. It’s about time you woke up and faced the fact that your world has entered the twilight zone. Now, quit being a pussy and to get to work.
Once I had my head right I followed the trail further into town, dodging a roving patrol along the way. The thing had apparently been moving at the same speed the entire time, and it either wasn’t aware it was leaving a trail, or it didn’t care. Despite the urban environment I was able to track it based on the signs it left. Well, that and the occasional drops of blood I found every ten paces or so. After a while, I realized that it moved in a straight line toward the Gillespie County Airport. As I recalled, there wasn’t much out that way—just a few hangars, a diner that catered to the private pilots who flew in and out of there, and a hotel.
I was betting that it was using one of the hangars or the hotel to hole up in, and if I had to guess it would be one of the hangars. Although Fredericksburg was just 60 miles or so from Austin as the crow flies, most airplanes would’ve survived the overpressure, which normally would crumple small aircraft within 20 miles or so of an atomic detonation. However, I bet that the sensitive electronics in many of the small craft that were stored there would’ve been fried by the EMP, and I also guessed that anyone who tried to exfil through here would be like sitting ducks to this thing. Strategically, if I were a top-tier predator looking for easy human prey and little to no human intervention, it’s where I would’ve set up in a crisis like this.
As I neared the airport, the foliage became thicker and the thing was easier to track. Although I had a pretty clear idea of where it was headed, I continued to track it without deviating from the trail it had left. This took me through a few empty fields as well as the fairgrounds, which thankfully hadn’t been mowed in a while, making my job as simple as keeping an eye out for an ambush and walking in a straight line to the hangar dead ahead.
Once I got to the airfield, I snuck around the back of the closest hangar making as little noise as possible. As far as I was concerned, my best chance at killing this thing was surprise. Even injured, I’d seen it move faster than any human, and I doubted that I’d be a match for it in close quarters. Well, maybe if I had a katana, but I was shit out of those at the moment. Funny how random weapons never show up at opportune times in real life like they do in video games and horror movies.
Once I’d found the side entrance, I stopped to do a quick gear and ammo check. A press check of the M4 told me I had one in the chamber, and I’d swapped out for a full mag right before I left Rayden. I had my Bowie knife, my combat folder, my Glock and my Kahr. All things considered, I was pretty well set on the armament front. I still would have gladly traded at least one of the sidearms for a tactical katana, or a nice traditional shinken type made for cutting through straw mats and people like butter. But, you play with the hand you’re dealt.
After my equipment check I kept moving and found the side door in short order. I noticed more of that dark and not-quite-human looking blood on the door handle, and knew I’d definitely tracked this thing to its lair. The door was solid steel with no window, and chances were good the beast would see the light from the door if it was anywhere near the entrance when I cracked it open. I decided to take my chances, turning the knob ever so slowly until I felt it give. I swung open the door and moved in quickly, scanning and sweeping the area with the rifle in one hand, shutting the door behind me as quietly as possible.
As soon as I entered and my heart stopped beating through my chest, I heard the kid crying at the back of the hangar. It looked like there were some administrative offices or maintenance areas in the back, built out of metal studs and drywall with drop ceilings and little else to muffle external noise. I would use that to my advantage.
I moved toward the back, navigating my way past a nice Cessna and two WWII-era relics that had been fully restored. I paused beside the Cessna and listened for any movement, then moved forward, scanning left to right. I also kept an eye on the rafters overhead, as the threat of an ambush from above seemed to be a real possibility. Nothing. Finally I approached the office area in the back and pinned myself up against the wall, slowing my breathing and listening for any sound or lack of sound that might have indicated I’d been noticed.
As I listened, I could hear a voice underneath the kid’s sobs. It was as rough and dry as a caliche pit in summer, and hearing it made my skin crawl all over.
“Now, now, little bird, you mustn't cry. It’ll all be over soon. Yes, soon.”
I took that as a signal that it was feeding time at the monster zoo, so I hurried down the hall to the doorway where the noise was coming from. The door had been left ajar, and although the lights were off I could see a dark figure looming at the back corner across from my vantage point, as well as the kid’s shoe and ankle.
I sighted in on the thing’s back and opened fire, aiming high for fear of a round over-penetrating and hitting the kid.
The staccato sound of the M4 rattled off the walls within the enclosed space, and 5.56 shells spat out of my rifle like rain, hitting the floor with sharp little pings as they fell. I connected with the first two shots, one near the spine and another at the shoulder, then the next six or seven missed as the thing zig-zagged off to the side like nothing I’d ever seen. I tracked it around the room as it moved, finally getting wise and leading it to plant two more hits, one in the torso and the other in its head, or at least in its hood. I couldn’t tell if I’d made a headshot or not, but as I backed out of the room to draw it away from the child it visibly slowed, if not to human speed, then just enough to hopefully give me a fighting chance.
I emptied the mag at it as it followed me out of the room and down the short hall to the hangar. When the bolt locked open on an empty chamber, I dropped the mag and slapped another one in, depressing the bolt catch and racking a fresh round. I pulled the trigger and was rewarded with dull “click,” which told me I had a failure-to-feed malfunction. I’d cleared these sorts of weapon malfunctions dozens of times in training and in combat, yet I had little time to do so before the thing was on top of me. Out of options, I stabbed the barrel at its face, aiming for the eye socket, a nasty trick that was made nastier by the fact that I had a wicked striking bezel on the end of my flash hider.
Of course, the thing moved its head out of the way like Pacquiao, bobbing and weaving around the muzzle of my rifle. Even so, the muzzle snagged on its hood, pulling it back to reveal what I was dealing with. The thing looked to have been human at some point, as I could recognize the resemblance, but his facial skin was stretched and drawn, with a color and texture that reminded me of a rhino or an elephant. The eyes were dark yellow around the irises, which were almost non-existent as the pupils were two black nickels in a sea of yellow sclera. I could see where a round had hit it in the face, as a perfect little hole punched into its face just to the right of its nostrils. A small bead of blood oozed out, but revealed no significant blood loss. Its hair was falling out in clumps, and what once looked
to have been a neatly coiffed shock of bright red hair was now just ragged patches of stubble and mange.
I noted all these details in an instant, right before it shied away to cover its eyes and draw its hood back up. I realized then that the thing’s eyes were adapted for the dark, and that it must’ve lacked the ability to contract its pupils sufficiently to shield them from daytime light.
Gotcha, I thought as I backpedaled and reached for the light switch I’d noticed on the way in. As soon as I hit the lights, it screeched like it had back at the school and bounded off down the hall to the room where it had left the kid.
“Shit!” I hollered as I dropped my rifle and ran after it, drawing the Glock and firing as it flowed through the dark doorway. I hit the doorway and jagged right, only to see the thing fly up through the ceiling tiles as I flicked the lights on. Thankfully, the kid was still whimpering in the corner. Secure in the knowledge that it wouldn’t be following us outside, I grabbed her and headed toward a door I’d seen at the end of the hall, hitting the release bar at a run and dumping us both on the ground outside.
Elena clung to me and cried, whimpering in Spanish and begging me to take her to her mommy. I didn’t have time to be heartbroken, and ran with her about 30 yards away from the building to a line of vehicles in the parking lot. I set her down on the hood of a vintage Ford pickup and raised her head gently so I could make eye contact.
“Tengo que ir a matar el cucuy. Espera aquí. Voy a volver en un momento.” I have to go kill the monster. Stay here. I’ll be back for you in a moment.
She cried and shook her head no, clinging to me for all she was worth. But I knew I had hurt that thing, and I felt that if I didn’t finish the job it would just kill again… tonight, and the next night, and the next. I spent several more minutes calming her down, and finally was able to convince her to release me so I could go back and end it for good. After she’d settled down enough to let me go, I assured her that I’d come back for her and told her to stay put, but to head back to the high school if I didn’t come back out soon. Then I headed back inside the hangar, determined to kill that thing or die trying.