I shake my head, running my fingers through my dark hair, and reply, “So those guys – the Sempers – that were with you yesterday, they beat you bad?”
Nodding, Sledge speaks while hoisting himself on a sedan. “With a tribe led by ex-military and criminals, yeah, you get beatings alright. I’ve seen more people shot, stabbed or maimed in my life that I don’t even remember how normal people act. That’s why you surprised me Quinn.”
I jump onto the Sedan – Brig is about ten feet ahead surveying the area as we approach the city line. “I surprised you by not killing you? Wow…the world’s gone sideways then if that’s doing you a favor.”
Sledge just shrugs, eyeing me with cold, greenish-brown eyes.
Brig stops as she approaches a street lamp that’s been thrown against an old oak tree planted along with sidewalk. Leaning a hand against the tree, Brig looks back as we walk behind her.
“Okay boys – this is what we’ve been waiting for. It’s gonna get real fun real fast, or it’s gonna be the most leisurely stroll you’ve ever had. Just keep your head down, don’t touch anything, especially you Quinn. And don’t get yourself killed by skulks, or rats, or spiders, or anything else that can eat you.”
Caught off guard, I reply, “Did you say spiders and rats? I don’t think those usually kill people where I’m from.”
Shaking her head incredulously, Brig says, “Well, that’s in your own fantasy land, boy.” She brings out her knife in front of her. “We got some ugly spiders here.”
Chills splinter down my spine and make my neck hair tingle. “Perfect, I just love spiders,” I mutter.
Sprawling in front of us was a broken town, a mecca of ruin. We were staying along the main highway as we walked, but I could easily spot houses dotting the overgrown areas below – houses that were burned, halfway ripped apart, or even just completely leveled. Spotting some four-story apartment buildings, I could see that half of the building had collapsed onto a park below, crushing the playground underneath. To the right of me, I spotted a lake – and the name pops into my head as I see remnants of a dock, broken pieces of wood that may have been canoes once – “Fernan Lake.” It’s where my dad and I would go fishing when we weren’t all on the houseboat across on the other lake. A greenish glow emanates from the rippling surface, and I can’t help cringing.
“Yeah, don’t drink the water,” Brig directs. “At least not without one of these puppies,” she says, holding up a plastic cylinder with some fancy looking filter. “Filters the radiation out of the water.”
“What happened here?” I finally ask. “I thought the nukes only took out the coastal cities.”
“Not all the nukes ended up on the coast.” Sledge says solemnly. “Some of the small ones ended up hitting towns, or even trailer parks. Quite a few big nukes took out the Midwest, so it’s pretty much a wasteland now – we call it the Rift.”
We continue walking along the coast line on the west side of the ruins, because as Brig pointed out – the downtown would be full of Skulks at this point in the day. They congregated toward each other in the center of the town for the morning, then would spread out and hunt as the day went on. Our goal was to not be anywhere close to the place when that happened.
What did they hunt? I was hoping it would just be squirrels, but I knew better.
The sun becomes warm toward midday, when we start to turn north along the lakefront – still no sign of anything at all dangerous. At this point it seemed like we made the right choice coming through the city, versus the lake which probably was full of all kinds of sea monsters and killer dolphins with razorblades.
Reaching an area along the shore, Brig suddenly stops, casually looking around and turns to Sledge and I. “Let’s take a minute and scavenge for some supplies – anything you can find really. Food, meds, ammo. A lot has probably been raided, but you never know when a can of beans or even dog food makes all the difference.”
“Hold up,” I say. “Dog food? You be crazy woman.”
Brig laughs, patting my back. “Oh you sweet boy. We’ll toughen you up yet.”
She treads off toward a fairly large supermarket with faded blue paint, her bowie knife glinting in the sunlight. A small parking lot still has shopping carts, some toppled over and rusty, and a few cars sit with their hoods ripped off or tires stolen. Boxes and a large mound of garbage are piled up near the entrance and I glance Brig straddling the wall to get through the open doors.
Sledge nods to me, giving me a short salute, and walks toward a nearby gas station that has a toppled dinosaur sign crushing into some of the pumps, glass windows long ago shattered in the main building.
Glancing around at my surroundings, my eyes land on a small store squished between a clothing boutique and barber shop.
“Al’s Electronic Shop.”
Seeing that Brig and Sledge are off to their places, I feel my feet immediately rushing toward the store. My heart picking up speed to match the pace of my legs which are practically running by now. This was my chance to find something to reconnect to my old life.
I reach the store and push through a steel door that creaks because one of the hinges is missing. A fetid odor like dead fish smashes into my face like I walked into a dumpster – I retch, but luckily hold it in. Maybe I am toughening up? Forcing myself to breathe through my mouth, even though I can still taste the rot, at least it doesn’t make me instantly vomit.
I look around the dilapidated store shaped like a long hallway, drawing my rifle to my frontside for comfort like a teddy bear. Wire shelves along the wall have mostly been ripped to the ground, spreading shards of glass along the floor. Boxes of discarded plastic lay mixed with old soda cans, which only crush occasionally under my feet like leaves. Silence fills the air eerily in the store, where the hustle and bustle of people shopping should be heard. My eyes dart left and right, trying to find something of value.
I walk along the glass counter, being careful to not cut myself on the shards. The cash register sits open, the money long taken from it. Name tags now rusted on the border show names like “Samantha” and “Jake.” I continue walking toward the back where a sign hangs crooked which says “Employees Only.”
The odor seems to grow worse, and I gag again, but force myself to keep walking.
A small bathroom sits on the right, mostly full of garbage bags and broken glass from the mirror that used to hang on the wall. I look over to the left and find a wooden door, mostly intact that has a small sign next to it that says, “Boss Man.”
I turn the handle. Another creak. More smell. More broken stuff – an old computer, a desk that’s been turned on its side. A small, metallic safe sits on the floor by the desk, still closed up tight.
I turn my head to the right and look in the corner by me as something catches my eye.
I suddenly stop, catching my breath as I nearly let out a gasp.
In the corner of the office is a slumped figure that looks horribly burned. No hair left on its head which is now misshapen and full of red patchy spots – it bobs up and down as raspy snoring comes out of the man - or creature – not exactly sure which it is. Tattered jeans and a checkerboard flannel shirt cover its body, which is long and skinny. Yellowed fingernails which are probably about four inches long now scratch nervously against the floor. Stray hairs like untweezed ear hairs rest on the top of the creature man’s head and for the most part, its red skin is hairless and crackled otherwise. Its long, dangly hand holds a square box tight against its chest. I can see a white cord dangling from the black box, like –
“It’s a charger!” I nearly shout, but stop myself so its just a whisper, but even that makes the creature below me stir. I know I should just walk away, shouldn’t indulge, that it’s too dangerous, but with what’s happened, the temptation is too much.
I have to have it. No matter the cost.
Stooping down quietly next to the thing that looks like a monster, my eyes catch a name tag pinned into its chest.
“
Al.”
I swallow hard, and my breath quickens, but I stay under control. “It” had a name once, a family, but now “It” is a monster – I tell myself that in my mind, just in case. I just have to sneak that power bank out of its hands and I’m home free.
With nimble fingers, I wrap them around the box and gently tug.
CHAPTER 7
Sulking with the Skulks
The creature snorts, choking on its own drool.
But it doesn’t wake.
A quick pull.
The cord dangles across its arm, making its fingers twitch on the floor.
I take the black box and hug it against my chest, making sure to not knock anything over with my pack or gun, holding my breath more so for the fetid stench. A second glance at the safe tempts me, but I know I shouldn’t press my luck.
“Al” snorts again, flicking its head left and right, while I freeze in place, free hand reaching back to my rifle.
But then it settles down again, sinking its head as both its hands slump onto the floor.
Luckily, Al’s a deep sleeper.
I tiptoe like a cat burglar to the open door, dodging around it like it’s booby-trapped with lasers, and I manage to pass by it with only one creak.
Al doesn’t wake.
Hurrying to the front of “Al’s Electronics,” I hastily rummage through my bag until my fingers wrap around a cold, little black box.
My only hope was that this box actually had some charge left in it – the newer ones were supposed to hold their charge for up to ten years supposedly. Either that, or it was just a huge scam.
Briefly I think about heading outside to see if it works, but I know Brig will probably throw my phone into the lake if she sees me doing something like this.
I can’t wait.
With a gentle snap, I plug the cable in the bottom of my phone – thank goodness Apple didn’t change their cable again, I think, beginning to breathe.
My fingers trace along the box until I feel a small button, and push it in hastily.
Green light appears in the dark.
A battery icon appears on the black screen.
And relief washes over me as I slunk against the broken countertop.
If you know the feeling of watching that taunting little battery icon while it sadistically laughs in binary at you because it knows you want that phone to turn on more than anything in the world, then you start to get a small idea of how I’m feeling right in this moment.
I keep pushing the power button on my phone.
Desperately.
Furiously.
As anyone also knows, no amount of pushing makes that phone work any faster – it’s like a bad trip to the DMV. At least before the DMV no longer existed because of N-Day. So with every minute, I can feel it inching closer until finally –
Bright white light floods the dark room, lighting up all the broken pieces of glass and metal in the shop. Making my eyes burn, I can’t help looking at it, because it is the most beautiful icon in the world to me. That little apple with a bite out of it signifies a time when things were simple, where your bad day was just going to use the bathroom and finding out your phone wasn’t charged.
For once I had the victory. For once my phone was charging.
But there was one little detail, that between being thorough about surviving and my exhilaration about seeing this phone light up, that I completely forgot about. That one little detail of course is that when phones wake up, they usually make noises.
Mine was no different.
That little black box beeps into the dark, still air, reverberating across the walls, making it seem much louder than it really is.
My heart stops.
Slapping my hand across my forehead for not silencing the thing, I peer through the dark store toward the back, just waiting. Watching.
A shuffling noise comes from the back of the store – Al’s office.
Grunts.
Snorts.
And I freeze in place, unable or unwilling to move. My phone blinks from 1% to 2% though.
I stare back into the dark, clicking on a flashlight Brig had passed along to me before we left her house. At least if something is going to try and kill me, I want to know beforehand.
So I stare for what seems like minutes, twitching the light back and forth like it’s a strobe light.
I think I’m in the clear and let out a breath, but then I see it-
A red patchy hand enshrouded by the dark reaches itself around the door frame, cracking the wood as it fiercely wraps its long fingers into the broken wall next to the door.
It seems pissed.
My throat tightening, I start to back away from the counter, still clutching the black charging box to my chest. I throw my phone into my pocket and squeeze my rifle against my side with my free hand.
Red eyes glow in the dark at me and I know that thing is no longer Al.
“Dayummmm!”
I gasp, my eyes going huge as I hastily turn to run the five feet to the door.
Three steps away I feel something slam into my body, throwing me down to the floor where I know I’ve landed on some glass that lodges into my forearm. The power bank clatters against a pile of garbage next to me, clanging against some metal.
I turn on the ground and look up.
Staring down at me is a creature so ugly and vile, it must be a skulk. Definitely no longer human, red, bloodshot eyes stare down at me where eyelids used to cover them up, making them seem enormous. They glow at me furiously in the little light that sifts through the dark. Its face is drawn tight, like it’s been stretched a thousand times too tightly, and yellowing, jagged teeth fill its open mouth where black sludge leaks out the side.
The skulk has its fingernails lodged in my side where my phone rests in its pocket.
“What the-“ I start, trying to wiggle free, but the skulk is far too strong as it pushes its nails deeper into my side – a stabbing pain beginning. I wince in response as putrid, hot breath covers my face.
Again, I think about possibly dying yet again, but my instincts kick in. Those instincts that I have to survive no matter the cost.
Somehow I manage to prop my gun against my arm pit with my free hand.
Somehow I manage to actually pull the trigger.
Somehow the skulk lets go of me and I scramble to my feet, rifle still in hand.
The creature stares at me reaching down to its stomach where a black liquid wells up. A mixture of hatred and sadness reflects on its eyes as red tears coalesce at the corner of its eyes.
And then the monster does something I didn’t think it could.
It speaks. One word.
“Kill.”
The raspy voice sounds like a whisper, a hiss from the dry lips. And I don’t know if it’s a plea or a threat.
But then it lifts its head, arching its back much further than should be possible. And the creature screams – not like a human, but like a wild animal hissing wildly into the air as it twitches angrily. The sound is like a thousand nails on a chalkboard all at once, making me desperately cover my ears as I cower back into the metal frame of the front door. It lasts about three seconds, but my ears pulsate with pain afterword, making my vision blur as I try to stare at the skulk.
It dashes toward me, reaching its clawed fingers toward my belly.
But I’m just a second quicker, raising my rifle instinctively to stare down its sights. I pull against the trigger.
Al the Skulk stutters and stiffens just a foot from me, still trying to reach its hand toward me. But I see its red, bloody-teared eyes roll back in its head, where dark liquid streams from a fresh hole in its patchy forehead.
It slumps to the ground, and without another second’s glance I grab the black box and head into the sunlight, the door crashing and glass shattering behind me.
“What was that!?” I hear Brig yell as she runs furiously toward me, with Sledge appearing outside of the gas station, looking around to make sure he’
s not in any crossfire. We meet up by a broken fountain near the middle of the parking lot, me panting and completely in shock by what just happened.
Managing to choke out three words between heavy breaths, “Al. Skulk. Dead.” I point manically toward the store.
Sledge and Brig glance at each other for only a second, and nodding at each other grab me by the shoulders to bring me up off the dirt. Brig’s face tenses up as she sees the box I’m holding, and then she speaks.
“We need to run. Now Quinn.” Her lips spit out the words like a military command, and I know she’s serious as she throws some of the goods she found into her pack.
From somewhere behind the buildings we were just in, I hear a rushing sound like a waterfall and then a choir of screams like the one I just heard ring out – only this time its much more unsettling, not because its louder, but because there are more screams, a lot more.
“What’s going on Brig?” I ask, my skin shivering from the adrenaline.
“Start running!” She calls out, crouching down onto asphalt as she reaches around her waist to pull out the metal cross-shaped object. “It’s time for plan B.”
Muscles clench in my leg and I run, just following a footstep behind Sledge, not knowing where exactly we’re heading, but just running madly to get there.
Anywhere not here.
I glance behind me for just a second as we’ve run about two blocks now. The sight terrifies me as I see Brig running away from an enormous mob of red and black skulks now crowding around the glowing blue object she just set on the cracked pavement. She catches up to us, passing us by five feet, as I steal another glance to see what looks like a mosh pit of monsters wildly clawing at each other as they all try to get to the metal object in the middle of the horde.
She’s able to breathe out two words, but Brig picks up her pace in front of me and I feel my legs ratcheting up the speed as my throat burns in response.
“Two minutes,” is all Brig says. And I know we don’t have much of a head start.
The last thing I see is the flutter of red and white striped remains of a boat parked in the dock just off the road.
Nuclear Rising Page 5