by Hunter Shea
Andrew ran, Kate bobbing in his arms, his eyes locked on the front door.
Whup! Whup! Whup!
It sounded like the monster was hammering the car with its fists.
Taking the steps in one bound, he raced into the house. Nikki staggered close behind with Ryker’s arm draped over her shoulder.
There came a tremendous crash, and Andrew knew the car had been flipped over.
Once Nikki and Ryker were inside, he kicked the door closed and leaned his back into it. As he sank to the floor, Kate’s dead weight settled onto his lap.
Ryker slumped into a dining room chair, blood from his face spattering the table. Nikki collapsed on the floor next to him, panting hard, doubled over, her hand on her chest.
Andrew reached up and locked the door, not that it would do any good. Whatever was out there had demolished his car with its bare hands. If it wanted to come into the cottage, it could easily punch the door right off its hinges.
First things first. He got up and carried Kate back to the bed. The fact that she hadn’t woken up through all of the running, screaming, and mayhem worried him deeply. Could a seizure that went on too long lead to brain damage? Had her lungs constricted enough to cut the flow of oxygen to her brain? He was no doctor, though he’d been around enough to have a good working knowledge of the profession, but at the moment, his thoughts were too scattered to coalesce into rational thought.
“Oh God, I’m bleeding,” Ryker said. He’d been so obsessed with the burning, he must not have realized that his face had been flayed open. Andrew balled paper towels around his hand and ran the wad under the water. He took the chair next to Ryker and dabbed at his face. The towel instantly turned red. Nikki got to her feet and took the towel from him.
Neither Andrew nor Nikki spoke aloud what they were thinking.
The wounds were bad. The only positive thing was that Ryker’s eyes had been spared. The trio of jagged lacerations started at his hairline, the one above his right eye so deep, Andrew could see the dull white sheen of his skull through pulped flesh. They ran down his face, bisecting his eyebrows, skipping past his eyes and resuming on his cheeks.
The one in the center of his face was the worst. It had sliced his nose in two, sickeningly reminding Andrew of a split hot dog on a flat-top grill. It had also torn his lips apart. Blood ran into his mouth and poured from the chasm between the two halves of his bottom lip.
He needed stitches. A ton of them, and soon, before he bled to death.
“A sewing kit. Where did Kate pack the sewing kit?” he muttered to himself.
The crunch of rending metal had ceased. All was silent in the woods…for the moment.
Andrew raced to the closet in the bedroom and dug until he found his and Kate’s luggage. His wife loved to pack (or grossly overpack, as Andrew had lamented more times than he could count), preparing for every eventuality. She collected the little sewing kits sometimes found in hotels, always making sure to stow one in a pocket of her suitcase just in case a button needed to be sewn back on or Andrew once again ripped the seat of his pants, which he hoped had been a one-time thing.
Digging through the plethora of little storage compartments in her bag, his fingers seized a small plastic case.
Yes, he had the kit, but who was going to sew up Ryker’s face? He wasn’t sure he would be able to do it.
If Nikki can’t, you’ll just have to.
He’d had to do some pretty unpleasant things the year the surgeon had left an open gash in Kate’s stomach so the infection could seep from her body. Andrew remembered the smell, and the bubbling sounds he and Kate had called her baby volcano, signaling that the thick gauze padding would need to be changed. At the time, he just did what needed to be done. It was only later, when that crisis was over, that he’d get weak in the knees with the recollection of the sight and smell of the seeping wound and how often he’d had to tend to it.
Please, Nikki, be stronger than me, he thought as he rushed to give her the packet. It had several tiny spools of thread, a few needles, and a thimble so small, he wondered whose finger it could possibly fit.
Ryker saw the kit and his eyes bulged. “What’s that for?”
Nikki was doing her best to stem the tide of blood pouring from his face, but it was a losing battle.
“We have to stitch you up, bud,” Andrew said, feeling light-headed. Ryker’s face was unsettling to look at.
“Oh no you won’t.” Ryker tried to get up, but Nikki grabbed him by the shoulders and eased him back into the chair. He had a hard time pronouncing words correctly through his split lips.
“Andy’s right,” she said, a tear dangling from the end of her chin.
“If anyone’s giving me stitches, it’s going to be a doctor!”
Andrew pulled a chair over and sat in front of his brother-in-law. “In a perfect world, that’s exactly what would happen. But that thing is out there, and it demolished the car. We have to do this now before you lose any more blood.”
Ryker looked at Nikki, who simply nodded while she bit her bottom lip.
“It’s going to hurt like hell. Do you have anything to kill the pain?” Ryker said nervously.
Before Andrew could tell him about the bottle of whisky, Ryker’s eyelids fluttered and his eyes rolled up and out of sight. His body slumped forward, but Andrew caught him before he fell over.
Andrew checked his pulse, which was still strong.
“We should do it fast while he’s still out,” he said.
Nikki unzipped the kit and immediately started threading a needle, her hands trembling so much it took her numerous attempts. She looked ready to crumble. If she passed out, Andrew would be the only one left who was conscious.
“If you want, I can do it,” he offered.
She took a shaky breath. “He’s my husband and my responsibility. If anyone’s going to stab him repeatedly, it should be me.”
The corner of her mouth turned up just slightly. Andrew felt a brief burst of relief, then remembered Kate and the monster waiting for them outside.
“Just hold him still while I try to channel my mum. She could have been a seamstress.”
When the needle pierced the skin at the bridge of Ryker’s nose, Andrew faltered. Nikki pinched two meaty flaps of skin together and did her best to reconnect them. Ryker’s body shifted and Nikki huffed. Shaking his head to clear the fuzziness that wanted to creep in and take over, Andrew steeled himself. Nikki worked slowly yet methodically, her hands stained and slick with her husband’s blood. She tackled his lips next. They bled less, but it looked like she was stabbing squirming slugs. Andrew looked away in the interest of self-preservation.
If there was one thing to be thankful for, it was that Ryker remained out of it the entire time. After she was finished with his nose, Nikki went about connecting the folds of skin on his forehead, then his cheeks. When she was done, she was pale as milk but seemed more in control of herself.
“He’ll need a plastic surgeon,” she said. “But at least he won’t bleed to death.”
Together, they got Ryker to a more comfortable chair and covered him with a blanket. The area where they’d worked on him in the dining room was covered in blood spatters and crimson towels.
Andrew checked on Kate. Her forehead was cool to the touch. The fever was gone. Why wasn’t she waking up?
“I don’t think I’ve ever been this knackered,” Nikki said. She sat on the floor by Ryker’s feet. “And yet I know there’s no way I could close my eyes for even an instant.”
“You and me both. You did an amazing job, you know.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” She stared at Ryker’s patchwork face.
“Not many people could do what you did. He’s lucky to have you.”
“I tell him that all the time.” She kissed his knee, resting her head on his lap.
&nbs
p; Andrew couldn’t stop looking at the glass doors to the back porch. They were no protection whatsoever. The beast could come crashing through at any second.
As if it could hear his thoughts, the creature ripped off a bladder-quaking howl.
Andrew and Nikki bolted to their feet, looking all around the cottage.
“Why won’t it leave us the fuck alone?” Nikki said, fingers enmeshed in her hair as if she were going to tear it out by the roots.
Andrew spotted the rifle and silently thanked God that Ryker had managed to hang on to it. It felt heavier than before, or was that just exhaustion settling in? How many bursts of adrenaline could he endure before he simply burned out?
“There!” Nikki exclaimed, pointing to the back of the house.
Sure enough, he heard its lumbering footsteps.
He needed more light by the glass doors. If the thing decided to enter through the path of least resistance, Andrew wanted to see it as well as possible so he could shoot it in the face. Carrying a candle over and placing it on the floor to the side of the door, he turned and saw Nikki grabbing another. Next, he pulled Ryker’s chair into the center of the cottage so he wouldn’t be hit by flying glass. Then he gripped the bed frame and looked to Nikki.
“We’ll put the bed next to him,” he said.
Nikki nodded. The legs of the bed made a terrible racket as they dragged it away from the window. Kate slept on, worrying Andrew further.
The sound must have caught the monster’s attention, because it stopped moving. Andrew crept toward the doors, hearing its labored breathing. His finger curled around the trigger as he backed up.
Andrew’s thoughts wavered. Should he wait for it to come crashing inside? Or should he take it by surprise? He could have Nikki throw open the door and just start shooting.
Don’t wait until it’s in here. Once it gets inside, Kate and Ryker are vulnerable.
“Do you hear that?” Nikki whispered.
Andrew could barely hear her over the thrumming of his blood.
“It…it sounds like someone’s talking,” she said, fresh terror creeping into her eyes.
He needed to take a couple of steadying breaths to calm himself. When he did, he heard it.
It was a dull, continuous mumbling, a string of nonsense sounds. The more he listened, the more it sounded like a kind of Native American chanting. There were no words, or words as he understood them, just a low, guttural monotone. It was far more chilling than the ear-piercing screams and howls.
“What the fuck is it saying?”
Andrew shook his head. “I don’t have a clue. It’s definitely not English.”
The sound of its voice terrified him more than anything else that had taken place. What was it saying? Was it speaking to them? To another creature? To itself?
It was still muttering when they heard one of the back porch steps creak.
Go out there now when you know exactly where it is!
It was the right thing to do, but he couldn’t force his legs to move. The strange chanting of the creature was almost hypnotic.
Another groan of wood as it took the next step.
Nikki touched his back and he nearly screamed.
When it reached the third step (just three more to go!), Andrew broke from his stupor. He saw his hand reach for the door handle, but he was so numb with dread he couldn’t feel it.
Just pull and shoot. Even you can’t miss from this range.
His vision blurred. He rubbed his eyes with a knuckle. He’d never been so scared in his life.
The world outside the paper-thin glass doors was suddenly filled with the sound of incessant barking. The creature stopped talking to itself.
Nikki said, “Is that Buttons?”
Andrew’s heart turned to ice.
It was.
Buttons advanced on the monster, growling in between angry barks. The creature answered with its own roar.
“Buttons!”
Andrew spun to see Kate sitting up in bed. She threw the covers off and jumped to her feet, nudging him aside as she went to open the door.
“Kate, no!” Nikki and Andrew screamed in unison.
They were too late.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kate instantly knew that she was, as her colorful father would say, out where the buses don’t run. Propelled from the warm comfort of the darkness (the only place where she could truly be pain-free, both physically and mentally) by the distressed barking of her beloved Buttons, she wasn’t even exactly sure where she was. She only knew that her dog was beyond the door and she needed to get to him.
People shouted at her, but all she cared about was finding Buttons.
She briefly wondered why it was so dark and who would put candles on the floor. Next thing she knew, she was jerking the door open and stepping outside, the wood chilly on her bare feet. A hand clutched her shoulder, stopping her.
“Buttons!”
The beagle was growling in a way she’d never heard him growl before.
A rush of displaced air smacked her in the face.
Very little light penetrated the pitch outside, but there was just enough to see what had Buttons in a frenzy. One look at the horrid face brought reality crashing down around her.
The monster had turned to glare at her with its cold, glowing eyes.
She felt stark terror, trapped by its gaze. Those flaming eyes penetrated her like laser beams, raping her soul, leaving her empty and hopeless.
Nikki wrapped her arms around Kate, dragging her back.
Andrew knocked into them, rifle raised.
He could have pulled the trigger.
The creature let loose with a bone-rattling bellow. Andrew froze.
Buttons scampered past the beast, positioning himself between Kate and the monstrosity.
It was huge, its barrel chest almost taking up the width of the stairway. Getting a longer look, Kate saw she been right earlier. It was covered in short, bristly hairs, with exposed patches of corrupted flesh. The mephitic stench rolling off it in waves made her gorge rise. Its face looked slightly different than before, its complexion gone sallow.
A long, heavily muscled arm lashed out, reducing the railing to splinters. Andrew regained his senses, but it was too late. The beast bounded off the stairs and ran, its thunderous footfalls heading toward the water.
Andrew fired, but there was no subsequent cry of pain.
It kept running and running until it faded into the distance.
“Get back inside,” he said, ushering them in the door. Nikki still had Kate in her arms, the pressure tightening as they crab-walked into the cottage. Andrew slammed the door shut, chest heaving.
Nikki pulled Kate to the bed. As they were about to sit down (Kate’s legs had suddenly gone numb and her sagging weight must have been more than Nikki could handle), Andrew blurted, “Not there! Use the chair over there.”
Buttons had stopped barking, staying close to Kate and Nikki.
They turned as one and Kate saw her brother.
“Oh my God! Ryker!”
His face was covered in thread and blood. Was he dead? What had happened to him?
The commotion of Andrew lifting the mattress and jamming it against the glass doors stopped her from voicing the multitude of questions circling her brain like agitated gnats. Nikki settled her into a chair next to Ryker. Kate reached out to touch his arm, relieved to see he was breathing.
“Help me move the table,” Andrew said to Nikki.
They piled the heaviest furniture they could find against the mattress, scoring the floor with deep gouges.
The owners are going to be pissed, Kate thought, immediately wondering why that would even enter her head. Because maybe it’s better to think regular thoughts than face the fact that there’s a crazed creature that wants to k
ill us.
She couldn’t stop her heart from racing, and her chest was getting tight. In the throes of her fright, it seemed that every joint in her body had swelled to twice its normal size and was screaming in agony. Her wrist started to slip out of place and she had to pull her hand away from Ryker, resting it in her lap, feeling the bones slide back in place.
Even if the pain in her chest got worse, she wasn’t going to tell Andrew. What was the point? There was nothing they could do about it now.
When he and Nikki were done reinforcing the front and back doors with every stick of furniture that would move, they collapsed onto the floor beside Kate and Ryker.
Andrew was sweating profusely and having a hard time catching his breath. Nikki was just the same.
“Did…did you see that?” Nikki said.
Andrew stared at the wall, through the wall, into the woods where the beast waited to make its return. “I still can’t believe it. I mean, what the hell can it be?”
“It’s sick,” Kate said.
Two heads turned to her.
Andrew gingerly rested his hand on her knee. “What?”
“Something’s wrong with it. I’ve seen it twice now and it looks worse than before.”
“For all we know, that’s the way it always looks,” Nikki said, wiping a tear from her eye.
“No. It’s infected. With what, I don’t know.”
“Honey, you can’t know that,” Andrew said.
“I know I can’t, but I do. I can’t explain it.”
Buttons licked her ankle. She patted his head, her shoulder aching from the simple act, and he rose on his hind legs to put his head in her lap. He was covered in brambles and dirt. It looked as if he’d gone rolling through the woods the way little kids tumbled down dandelion-filled hills, laughing with the joy of total innocence.
“I was so worried about you.” She kissed him over and over.
“I’m just glad he didn’t try to attack that thing,” Andrew said. “There’s no telling what it would have done to him.” He cringed when he looked to Ryker.
“Did it do that to Ryker?” Kate said.
Nikki nodded, fresh tears springing to her eyes.