Chomper Universe Series (Book 1): Chompers

by J. Okuly

  I nodded at the wisdom of his words, especially since I had not thought that far ahead.

  “One idea I have is to move into a brick or stone office building. Then we disable the elevators and reinforce the stairs,” he said. “The other option is moving to the country where there are fewer people and fewer Chompers. There's safety in numbers and I know a guy who's part of a survivalist group. I know he would let us join their group in case of emergency.”

  “Do you trust him?” I asked.

  “To a point.”

  “We need to find a way to protect our families,” I said. “I'm worried sick about my mom even though my brother is with her.”

  “My auntie is there too.” Bonnie wiped her eyes with a napkin.

  Swagger put his arm around Bonnie's shoulder. “It's okay, little one. We're all worried about our families and our mates.”

  Bonnie hated anyone to touch her. So it was a surprise to us when she lay her head against Swagger's chest. This was an interesting development.

  “I'm the youngest of ten kids,” said Kitty. “It would take a Greyhound Bus to bring my entire family here to Carnival, but my biggest concern is my parents.”

  “I'm worried about mine as well,” said Rebecca.

  “We all have family in Austin,” said Kitty. “I suggested to my dad that the families hole up in one place. But my parents are praying this thing blows over soon. They're in denial and they have their heads buried in the sand. It's human nature to want to stay in your own home and not be forced to leave your nest.”

  “Then let's agree on something,” I said. “As soon as possible, we go to Austin.”

  “We'll find a way,” said Mark. “For now, think about what I've said. We can't defend this house forever.”

  The next morning, the dawn arrived and brought with it another sunny day. It brought something else as well.

  Chapter 8

  Day 1 of the Chomper Reign

  As if from a dream, they awoke. As if in slow motion, they fought their way out of a delirious, drugged haze. They awoke with a fierce appetite, and they looked around and saw food. If they couldn't see it because it was hiding, they smelled it. Meat. They craved human flesh. It was theirs for the taking. The world was now theirs. They were the dominant predators.

  Death had come to our community. As the morning progressed, we heard the first ambulance siren. There would be many more until the EMS system crashed under the deluge of emergency calls. We heard screams in the distance and hospitals filled with the injured. We looked out the window and saw people running in all directions. The Chompers moved in all directions as well, but they didn't run. They didn't need to run. As if by some evil sorcery, they found people who could not escape. People who were too old or infirm, too young, too outnumbered, or too paralyzed by fear.

  I was certain the Chompers were dead and no scientist could tell me anything different. The creatures could not die of hunger because they were already dead. Kitty had proven it with her compact mirror. Chompers in isolated areas lived for weeks without food, without water, without shelter. This was when the CDC caught up to my way of thinking and announced the monsters were indeed dead.

  A TV reporter informed us that the creatures were not invincible. We watched as survivalists surrounded a group of them and then moved in to stab and shoot them. They died for real with a destroyed brain, and they didn't return from the grave.

  At midnight I said to Mark, “It's my turn to take the watch.”

  “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

  “You stood watch for hours. Don't you need sleep?”

  “Too wired to sleep.”

  I nodded because I understood. These days Swagger was the only one who had no problems sleeping. We sat with the lights off and the curtains open. We watched the front of the house with its electrified fence and razor wire. Every few minutes, I walked to the back door and scanned the patio and back yard. I was now a soldier with something to guard.

  “I guess I'm delusional to think this fortress will hold forever,” I said.

  He nodded. “Aside from roving gangs, the other problem will be if we lose power and then need to use our extra gas for the generator. That's when we'll have to find more fuel and safeguard it.”

  “In other words, steal it.”

  “Yep,” he agreed. “By that time it will be about as precious as food and water.”

  We heard a scream which was so high-pitched my nerves crawled up my body. I looked out the window and saw a young girl running down the street followed by slow-moving Chompers. She stopped in mid-stride as more Chompers approached her from the other direction. She stood frozen in the middle of the street as if unsure what to do next.

  I ran to the door and unlocked it. “We've got to help her!”

  “No!” His voice held authority. “I'll get her.”

  “The Hell!” I said. “I'm going with you.”

  He turned off the electric fencing and we ran down the sidewalk to the gate. Mark opened it and ran out in the street with me following him. Chompers encircled the little girl and their numbers grew as more joined them. They drew closer to her but she didn't move. Why didn't she run? I had seen this same behavior all over the news. Yet it had never occurred to me that the Chompers might be exerting some sort of hypnotic effect on the victim. Now it happened to me. Something sharp and painful bored into my brain. Mark felt it too because he touched his forehead. The little girl screamed as she stood surrounded by the encroaching monsters.

  For a moment, I couldn't speak. “Mark, they're doing something to my head.”

  “You need to fight it.”

  “How?”

  He didn't answer but grabbed his head between his hands and kept moving toward the child.

  “Help me! Hurry!” she cried.

  I struggled to focus. Each breath was agony as if a nail was being hammered into my head.

  A Chomper spotted me and turned away from the pack. As slow as an obese turtle it moved toward where I stood on the sidewalk. Now I understood why people were attacked and eaten alive although there was time to escape. This psychic pain in my head was so strong it made Samson of old seem like a weakling.

  The Chomper closed in on me. Mark scooped up the girl and started to run back to the house. He seemed to resist the brain-piercing effect much better than I did. I stood paralyzed as the creature inched forward. It was only a few feet away and yet I couldn't move. I tried everything to break the spell. Finally, I started counting to focus my thoughts and deal with my paralyzing fear.

  1, 2, 3, 4, 5 … Then I was free. The pain disappeared. I turned to run and the Chomper grabbed my arm. I lifted my foot and kicked him in the thigh. He lost his precarious balance and landed on his back. As he struggled to stand, I ran after Mark and the girl.

  Chapter 9

  Everyone had heard the commotion and my friends stood at the front door watching us. Once I locked the gate, Kitty threw the switch and the electric fence hummed to life. A Chomper walked straight into the fence and his body flew backwards. Then his hair burst into flames. He stood up and once again started walking towards the house. When he touched the fence, he flew backwards again and his hair was still on fire.

  Mark shook his head. “Not very smart, are they? Kind of reminds me of our blue-haired friend.”

  “Wha … ” said Swagger.

  Marked grinned. “Conserve your brain cells. You're going to need them again tomorrow.”

  Once inside, Mark sat the little girl on the sofa. She looked up at us and then burst into tears. Her blond hair was a matted tangle and fell across her face in thick waves. I knelt and pushed a strand away from her cheek. Something dark smeared her face. Dirt or blood?

  Rebecca knelt beside her and cleaned her face with a wet paper towel.

  “Why were you out on the street this late at night?” I asked.

  “They got into our house and mommy pushed me out the window.” She started to cry louder. “She pushed me.”

&nbs
p; I turned to the others. “They can control your mind. Paralyze you. My head hurt so much I couldn't move.”

  Kitty's eyes widened. “That's why so many people are dying around the world. As slow as these things move, it shouldn't be hard to outrun them. Yet they surround people and overwhelm them.”

  “That brain control is their secret weapon,” I said.

  “But you broke the spell,” said Kitty. “How did you do it?”

  “I started counting,” I said. “When I got to five the spell broke, so I took off running.”

  I saw that Mark's nose was bleeding so I got him a tissue. I tried to wipe his nose but he took the tissue from me and did it himself.

  “You fought it even better than I did,” I said to him. “What's your secret weapon?”

  He turned away and didn't answer. “I'm going to check the fence and the perimeter. Need to make sure no one got in.”

  “What's with him?” said Kitty after he left the room. “That wasn't a trick question.”

  “He's embarrassed,” said Rebecca with her empathetic smile. “He withstood the psychic thing but he doesn't want to tell us why because it's something he doesn't want to share. Something that he's uncomfortable with.”

  Kitty smirked. “Are you sure your major isn't psychology instead of fashion design?”

  “When he's ready to share he will,” I said. “Let's drop it.”

  I glanced over to where Swagger slept on the sofa. Thank goodness he had fallen asleep again and missed our conversation. All I needed was him baiting Mark in some ugly way.

  I turned my attention to the little girl who was barely knee-high to a junebug. She wore a purple hoodie over yellow Spongebob pajamas. Her small body shook as she sobbed. I remembered her on the street surrounded by Chompers. She was as defenseless as I once was ...

  I shook my head to clear it. “What's your name?” I asked her.

  She hiccuped. “Breanna.”

  “How old are you Breanna?”

  “Seven.”

  The same age I was when ...

  Stop it! The voice in my head berated me.

  Rebecca looked at me and then turned to Breanna. “Do you live on this street?”

  “No, the other one. Over there.” She pointed towards the next street over which ran parallel to ours. “I ran through the backyard and then through the other backyard and then I came out on this street.”

  We would need to look for her mother, but not tonight.

  As Rebecca's soft voice soothed the child, I stood up and walked to the kitchen. I microwaved some soy milk and added chocolate syrup. I added a small amount of Nyquil to the mix and stirred it up. Then I brought the hot chocolate to Breanna and encouraged her to drink it. I asked her about her favorite Spongebob episodes. Soon her eyelids drooped, and I took the empty cup from her. I lay her on the sofa and covered her with a blanket.

  Bonnie smiled down at the child. “I guess we've added a new member to our tribe. I can't go back to sleep so I'm going to bake some chocolate chip cookies for her. Tomorrow she'll wake up to a treat.”

  While Bonnie baked, we settled down to sleep again. I spread my sleeping bag in front of the sofa where Breanna slept. That way I could hear her if she woke up during the night. Mark returned from checking the fence. His nose had stopped bleeding. I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep. I heard him walk to the kitchen and pour some coffee. The coffee pot ran twenty-four hours a day since someone was always on watch.

  Mark sat down at the dining table and talked to Bonnie as she baked cookies. The sound of their voices soothed me and I was soon asleep.

  The man was big and he stood over me as I slept. I saw him through my half-closed eyes. I opened my eyes wide and started to scream. Before I uttered a sound, he had his hands over my mouth. He lifted me off my bed and we were out the window and moving fast through the night. Crickets and cicadas sang their summer songs as I struggled against his bulk. We reached the car and he threw me into the back seat. I tried to open the door to escape but for some reason it wouldn't open.

  “Child safety locks,” he said with a laugh. “They do come in handy.”

  At the sound of his rough voice, I screamed as loud as I could.

  “Gigi, wake up!” Rebecca held me and smoothed my forehead with her soft hands. “It's only a dream. You're safe.”

  I jumped up, still caught in the grip of the nightmare. For a moment, I didn't know where I was. Then I realized I had awoke from one nightmare into the real nightmare. That thought struck me as hilarious and I started to laugh.

  “This is the real nightmare,” I said between giggles. I couldn't seem to stop laughing.

  Mark sat down on the floor next to me. “What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?”

  I concentrated and tried to remember. “Strawberry cheesecake. Why are you asking me stupid questions in the middle of the night?”

  Rebecca sighed with relief. “You had a nightmare, that's all.”

  “You can go back to sleep,” Mark said to Rebecca. “I”ll stay with her.”

  He stretched his long legs out in front of the sofa. I felt self-conscious sitting next to him in my pajamas.

  “Who's on watch?” I asked to break the silence.

  “Me for another hour then Kitty.”

  “Is your nose okay?”

  “Yep.”

  Kitty lay snoring in her sleeping bag, and I was glad my scream had not disturbed her since she would be on watch soon. As usual, Swagger could sleep through anything. We never invited him to stand watch because we were afraid he would fall asleep on the job. No one wanted to put their life in his hands. Breanna slept her Nyquil-induced sleep. I watched her small, pretty face, so peaceful in slumber.

  “I wonder if her mom is still alive,” I said.

  “We'll check tomorrow,” he said. “She might have survived if she concentrated on counting like you did and if she found a place to hide.”

  “What's your secret?” I asked. “Why didn't you want to tell us? I saw your pain but it wasn't incapacitating like mine.”

  He turned away as he had done before. I sighed with frustration but then he started to speak.

  “When I was in Special Forces, I was part of a NATO convoy heading for Kabul. The enemy ambushed us by seeding the road with land-mines. The Humvee I was in hit one of the mines and everything blew apart, but I was thrown clear. I remember blood running down my forehead and filling my eyes before I passed out. When I woke up, I was in a military hospital. The doctor said he had put a titanium plate in my head. At the time, I felt like a freak, a real-life Frankenstein. As time passed, I stopped thinking about what was in my head and went on with my life. But I quit the military. I didn't want to kill any longer. I wanted to make some kind of difference to the world.”

  “By being a doctor,” I said. “Or a political scientist. Or a lawyer.”

  “Some of the professions I've considered,” he said. “Anyway, the plate in my head might be the reason I withstood the psychic hold they had on me. My head hurt but it was bearable and I was able to fight it off. It seemed to incapacitate you until you started counting, but it didn't have that strong hold on me.”

  “It gave you the nosebleed.”

  He touched his nose. “Could be allergies.”

  I laughed.

  “Tomorrow I'm going to post this information on You Tube. I said. “The counting thing. If it helps one person, then I've made some kind of difference.”

  “You made a difference when you rescued that little girl.” He nodded to the sleeping Breanna. “But don't ever run off into the night like that. You should have taken the gun.”

  “No bullets.”

  “Right.” He laughed. “My bad. First thing in the morning we load it.”

  Chapter 10

  The next morning I jumped out of the sleeping bag and ran to the computer. I couldn't wait to post my new information about the counting thing on YouTube. YouTube had become a global gathering place to exchange life-savi
ng information. Any news about the Chompers was relayed to the entire world population - or at least those people lucky enough to have internet. As time went on, I knew we would lose our electricity and internet. We watched this happen to people in other parts of the world. CNN reported that employees who worked at power plants were not going to work. No one was going to work because it wasn't safe.

  I browsed YouTube and saw that dozens of people had already figured out the counting trick. Someone said it cleared your head faster if you counted backwards. Others disputed this claim. Some people suggested metal buckets on the head might offer protection from the Chomper Death Ray. This was what they called it. I smiled because Kitty was right. Every single thing that happened acquired a nickname. People were born with the tendency to label everything. Humans processed, sorted, labeled, and then put the information in a little box. Then they brought it out to study it. We had universal needs such as food, shelter, and clothing, but they also had tendencies and this was one of them.

  I scrolled through YouTube videos. The consensus was metal buckets didn't work. Yet if a person had surgery on the skull and acquired a metal plate, he was almost immune to the Chomper Death Ray. Doctors posted this discovery on YouTube and no one contradicted it.

  I shut the laptop and helped Bonnie cook breakfast.

  When Breanna woke up, I showed her the shower. We discovered that some of Bonnie's clothes actually fit the child. Bonnie was such a petite little doll despite her robust Reba McEntire voice. I promised Breanna that we would pick up clothes for her when we went to her house to check on her mother. During breakfast, I told everyone the latest news I had gleaned from the internet.

  Swagger said, “So if I'm some kind of freak with a metal plate in me head, I can walk out there without any problem?”

  I didn't look at Mark; I concentrated on my food.

  “Looks that way,” I said without looking up. “But the counting thing is what's important for the rest of us. When you feel the Chomper Death Ray assault your brain, don't panic or you'll freeze and not be able to move. You need to break the spell by focusing on your counting.”