by J. Okuly
Then I saw the lady I had spoken to in the waiting room leaving the hospital. Mrs. Ramirez held her son in her arms along with a bag of medications which the hospital had given her for the boy. I recognized the bright red cap which fit over the Marcellamine inhaler poking out of the bag.
“No!” I screamed.
I hadn't realized that as long as Marcellamine existed new Chompers could be created. It would never stop unless someone did something. I ran toward the woman intent on grabbing the bag from her hands. Then everything happened at once. Gunfire erupted outside the hospital. Soldiers yelled and machine guns discharged. A moment later, the glass windows in the waiting room shattered. Fast-moving Chompers hurled themselves into the hospital. The patients ran in all directions if they were able to run. Others stared in horror as the creatures advanced on them.
~*~
And now read a bonus chapter from the second book in the Chomper series …
LONE STAR CHOMPERS
LONE STAR CHOMPERS
by
J. Okuly
Dedicated to Sean … The only child who ever loved “Mustard and Sandwiches”
Chapter 1
Crowds of people ran in all directions. I searched for Mark but couldn't find him anywhere. The front entrance, blocked by Chompers and soldiers, was not an option so I ran in the opposite direction. I saw the sign for the stairwell and hurried toward it.
When I entered the stairwell, I took a moment to decide which way to go. A sign pointed to the upper floors. I thought of running up the stairs, but then I saw the arrow pointing to the basement level. The basement might have an exit to the parking garage so I turned and ran down the stairs. The stairwell grew dimmer as I descended into the bowels of the building. I guessed to conserve electricity the hospital chose to dim these lights. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I heard the door to the stairwell open above me.
I stopped my headlong rush down the steps and stood still. Labored breathing caught my attention. I held my breath and tried not to make a sound. Whoever was up there had stopped moving, and was listening as I was. Then I heard the sound of a heavy footfall on the step. I couldn't decide if it was human or Chomper. Chompers weren't this stealthy, at least the ones I had encountered. I convinced myself it wasn't a monster. I opened my mouth to call out to the person, but then the door to the stairwell opened again. A shrill scream erupted above me.
“Help me!” the man cried. The Chomper attacked him and they struggled. There were grunts and groans of pain. The man punched the creature as he fought for his life. Then came the sound of a bone-jarring whack. Both Chomper and human rolled down the steps with their arms and legs entangled. They reached the spot where I stood so I ran further down the stairs. There was another gut-wrenching scream from the man. Then silence. He didn't scream again. I could hear nothing except my own terrified and ragged breathing.
I took each step in silence as I continued my downward descent. Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw a door which indicated the morgue lay behind it. I avoided this door. I saw a sign which pointing to the hospital laundry and housekeeping behind the next set of double doors. I pushed through the doors and and then I flew through the air and landed hard on my back. My ankle was bent backward under my body. I stared at the ceiling as panic mounted and I struggled to catch my breath. My back was soaking wet and I lay in a puddle. I saw evidence of water damage mushrooming across the ceiling in an ugly bloated pattern. Water dripped onto the floor near where I lay.
I sat up and rubbed my neck. As I struggled to stand, I heard a sound. The scrape of a footfall on the steps outside the doors. Finished with the person he had attacked, the Chomper now searched for another victim. I was on his radar because of the noise I made when I slipped and fell in the water. I stood up but when I attempted to put weight on my foot, my ankle buckled and I fell back to the floor. A low mewl escaped my lips. I had landed with my ankle in a weird position and the weight of my body crushing it. I didn't think it was broken, but the pain told me it was sprained or twisted at the very least. As the Chomper continued to moan, I attempted to stand. The pain was too much and I gave up.
I tried again and managed to hop toward the laundry room as the noise behind the double doors grew louder. The Chomper was coming down the stairs not making any attempt to conceal the sound of his footfalls. I hopped as fast as I could, but then I slipped in another puddle of water and slid down on my stomach.
“No!” I hissed to myself. It seems I had been saying this word all day. “No!” I said again. “Get it together and move your body! The Chomper is outside the door.”
I stopped and listened. A phlegmy rasp erupted from his throat, as if he was choking on his own disgusting snot. I gave up hopping and started to crawl across the wet floor, dragging my injured ankle behind me. I felt like some sort of scurrying creature seeking shelter as it tried to escape a larger predator. That was exactly what I was at this moment. The emergency exit might as well have been a thousand miles away. I crawled faster as the laundry room grew darker the further I moved from the double doors. The only available light filtered in from under the doors. I crawled until I ran into a half-wall and then I stopped and listened.
I held my breath and closed by eyes, praying the creature would not smell me inside this area. I was far enough away that I didn't feel the Chomper Death Ray boring into my brain. I prayed he would forget what he was doing and wander off to chase something else. My eyes adjusted to the blackout darkness of the windowless area. After a moment I saw the rectangular shapes of the dryers in clearer relief. If I hid inside a dryer, would the Chomper still be able to catch my scent and locate me? Should I chance it?
I looked back and noticed the creature's hands were under the door as he felt along the floor with his palms. In a short time, he might figure out how to push the doors open and then he would see me cowering on the floor like a rodent. Then I remembered my gun. I took it out of my jeans pocket and held it in my hands, already feeling safer and empowered to protect myself. Bless you Mark for showing me how to use a firearm!
Where was Mark ? Where was Kitty? Where were my other friends? Our tribe was scattered, and I hoped no one's life was in the same jeopardy I faced at the moment.
Scratch … the Chomper ran his nails across the floor. The sound was more nerve jangling than the proverbial fingernails on chalkboard. I forced myself to look at his hands. They were as pale as a mushroom growing in a sunless forest. This made the dark hair growing on his knuckles appear as dark as midnight. I lay back against the wall and let out the breath I had been holding. He was pale, not green. NOT green. A slow-moving, sluggish, old school Chomper rather than the new and improved variety. Even if he figured out how to push his way into the room, I could outrun him or knock him to the floor. This would give me time to escape.
At that moment, he finally discovered how the pesky double doors worked. He pushed his way into the room. He must have pushed too hard because he fell face first on the floor. Then he struggled with a slow effort to get to his feet. Time to get up, I thought. Even hopping around, I could still avoid him. Then I realized my head wasn't hurting despite being near the creature. Was the Chomper Death Ray also mutating or disappearing? I wouldn't hold my breath on that one.
I prayed I wouldn't run into a stray mop bucket or some other obstacle in the dark gloom. I hopped toward the emergency exit with its red glowing letters beckoning me to safety. The silhouettes of the huge dryers lined the wall and seemed to go on forever. At the other end of the room, far, far at the other end, the red emergency exit sign called to me and I moved toward it. Then a dagger punctured my skull and I fell to the floor and grabbed my head. A million wasps stung my brain in a tormenting swarm. Not now! I moaned as I looked toward the Chomper. He had finally managed to stand. He stood still and didn't move, as if he were trying to get his bearings and remember where he was and why he was here.
Why hadn't I felt the stabbing pain when he first entered the room? Why this d
elayed reaction?
The double doors crashed open and one of the new and improved Chompers flew into the room. He smashed into the pale Chomper and knocked him to the floor. Stepping on the pale creature's head, he flattened him like a steamroller running over a piece of gum. The green Chomper panted as if he had run a marathon. His reptilian eyes glowed a dirty yellow in the darkness. He sniffed and turned in my direction. Either by sight or smell, he had located me. The evident hunger in his eyes was the worst part. He thought I would be his next meal! The pain my head no longer seemed so urgent. I pushed it aside as I thought of a way to survive an encounter with this amped-up Chomper. In this dim light, could I shoot him in the head before he took a bite out of me?
I judged the distance to the emergency exit. Even if my ankle wasn't injured, I knew I couldn't make it to the door before he grabbed me. I had seen their speed and knew they moved as fast as athletes ready to compete in the Olympics. Before I could change my mind, I hopped to a dryer, found the handle, and flung it open. Then I jumped inside and grabbed for the door. The creature was on top of me before I could shut it. I pulled the door toward me, but it stood open half an inch and I couldn't get it to close. I wasn't going to make it. As soon as the Chomper grabbed the door, he would yank it open and haul me out. I prayed my death would be quick when he ripped my throat open. I thought of my friends, my family … and Mark. I lowered my head and closed my eyes. Then the unthinkable happened. The beast slammed his body into the door and I heard the click as the door locked into place. He growled as he watched me through the glass, not comprehending how the mechanism worked. Then he started to bang on the door instead of pulling it open. As he continued to pummel the machine, I began to giggle. New and improved Chompers? I don't think so.
As the giggling fit continued and I didn't seem able to stop myself, I wondered if I was losing my mind. Nah, I thought. You're fine, Gigi. Just having a little dose of the old PTSD. Your old friend Mr. P is back in town. He's looking to reconnect, looking for a place to hang out, looking for an old friend he once knew. With that sobering thought, I couldn't watch the monster banging on the door any longer. He had once been a human like me, but now he was a green mutation, a demon who had escaped from Hell itself. I closed my eyes and rested my head on my knees.
Then I noticed that the Chomper Death Ray headache was gone. Why had it disappeared? Was the metal of the dryer protecting me? I needed to talk this out with my friends, especially Mark. If I ever saw them again.
What was I thinking? I pulled my cell phone from my jeans pocket. No bars. No signal. No internet. No email. No nothing. Would it ever come back? Or had the entire grid crashed for the rest of eternity?
The banging grew louder and I was too curious not to look up and see why this was happening. My eyes widened because now there were two monsters outside my metal sanctuary. They weren't taking turns banging on the dryer door. Instead they were hitting it at the same time, or at least trying to hit it. What they were doing was hitting each other because their coordination wasn't very good. One Chomper pushed the other one out of the way and then started punching the dryer with two fists. The other creature then pushed his friend away and did the same thing. How long would this go on? Would they be able to break the glass? But another thought frightened me even more. What if this banging on the door went on for days? Would I starve to death? More likely, I would die of dehydration unless I could find a way to escape.
Panic clutched my heart and I started to shake. Chills sped up and down my body as if my nervous system was the Indy 500. I touched the door with the tip of my finger. Should I end it all and open it? Go out with my gun blazing in the hopes I would hit one of the Chompers? Or should I sit here and die of dehydration and/or starvation? I stretched my hand toward the door and started to push.
No!
I couldn't do it. I was too scared to commit suicide by trying to shoot my way out of this situation. But I had to do something and soon.
After wracking my brain for half an hour, I started to doze off. I remembered a summer camp I attended one year when I was nine. All four of us had been at Camp Princess Pocahontas which had been a fun place to hang, despite the silly name. We did all the usual summer camp activities including swimming, hiking, and roasting marshmallows. It was one endless sleepover which seemed to go on forever. We explored the woods and discovered a hole in the ground covered by branches and brush. The small hole was the only area visible to us, and we had no idea the foliage covered the mouth of a cave which lay below our feet. I felt around the hole with my hands. As I moved aside one of the branches, I broke through the soft earth and tumbled down into the cave. At that time in my life, I was so overweight I couldn't climb back up the steep sides of the rock wall. My friends didn't know what to do except run and find help. Kitty stayed with me as panic clutched at my heart with the sharp talons of a predatory bird. For some reason, I thought I would never escape from that cave. I didn't think there was enough oxygen to survive. I feared an angry bear would see me as his dinner. The panic finally broke free like a genie escaping a bottle and I started to scream. I couldn't stop screaming until Kitty climbed down the wall and landed next to me. She took me in her arms and held me. Her comforting presence saved my sanity. I took control of my emotions. After an eternity, the rescuers arrived and released us from our stone prison.
I hadn't thought about that event for years. I remembered it now because I felt the same claustrophobia I had experienced as a child. I wondered if I would ever escape this dryer. Did I have enough oxygen to survive for an indefinite period of time? Would this machine become my coffin?
What sounded like an explosion tore me from my morbid thoughts. Had the Chompers broken the glass? I looked at the door but it wasn't broken, and only one Chomper banged against it. Where was the other one? My body jerked as another ear-splitting boom erupted near the dryer. The remaining Chomper slid to the floor. I saw a bullet wound in his forehead. The dryer door flew open and there stood Mark.
He held out his hand to me. “You want to get out of there Sleeping Beauty? I promise the dragons have been slain.”