"What's happening?! What the hell is this?"
I turned to him and stared. Long black needles, like porcupine quills, grew out from my father's left arm so quickly that they pushed through the fabric of his dress shirt.
I recoiled as my father slapped at his arm as if he were on fire. His skin pulsed as more black quills sprouted on the backs of his hands and spread up his wrists.
"Don’t just stand there!" my father snapped. "Dylan, do something!"
"I-I don't—" I reached out, but froze. Within seconds, the quills lengthened and spread, losing their sheaths to bloom into pitch black feathers.
My father screamed, tearing at his sleeves.
"Wait! Hold on!" With fumbling fingers, I yanked my father’s shirt to one side over his shoulder. My father's arm thickened before my eyes, not with more feathers, but hard muscle. His shoulders humped up with an internal cracking sound, and the fabric of his suit jacket tore its stitching.
My eyes met my father's, and I read stark terror and knowing in them. Then he shoved me away. Hard as he could.
I staggered and toppled over the low chairs into the next row. When I looked up, my father was thrashing and clawing at the remains of his clothing as bone shifted under his skin. He moaned in agony—strangled and terrible. Then he sank down, out of sight.
“Dad!” I yelled. It had been years since I called him that, had called him anything but father. I wanted to leap up and help, but a sick, cowardly thought froze me in place: I don’t want to see him die.
The room itself started to shake, swinging lights on the ceiling. A rumbling earthquake that went on and on, mingled with other pained screams around the room.
I’m hallucinating, I thought, scrambling back until I pressed against the auditorium wall. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real...
More screams cut the air, including the bell peal shrieks of girls from backstage.
Lilly. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew deep in my bones that whatever was happening to my father and the other adults in the room, I could not help.
Scrambling to my feet, I followed the screams of the girls. What if Lilly was... mutating, too?
I pushed past the side door to backstage. Lilly and two of her friends crouched under a makeup table against the far wall. Lilly’s face was pale, but she was calm. Watchful. In comparison, the other two girls were near hysterics as what could only be described as a tree literally grew from the floor in front of them.
It was a big tree. Mother oak, my mom would’ve called it, with branches stretching the height of the ceiling and leafing out under fluorescent lights. A normal tree probably wouldn’t have scraps of clothing still attached to it, though.
The tree’s roots coiled outward. Some of the thicker ones sank into the floor as if trying to drink from the carpet. More roots crawled around the room in all directions. I stepped on one as I ran to the girls, and it writhed under my shoe like a snake.
“Come on!” I gestured for them to get to their feet. “We need to leave!” One of the creeping roots crawled closer. I kicked it away. “Lilly, move! Get up!”
Lilly bit her lip. “Where’s Dad?”
“He’s—” The room trembled again, a sudden jolt that threw me off balance. I fell against the wall and caught myself painfully with my shoulder. “Let’s go!”
Lilly shook her head but crawled out from under the table. She darted past me. Her friends followed her like frightened fawns skittering after their mother. They were heading back to the seating area.
“No, wait!” I yelled. They didn’t listen.
The tremors eased enough so I could stand without falling, but the lights above flickered on and off. One moment of light, two of terrifying blackness.
“Lilly!” I followed them through the door to the stage and saw what came next like a strobe light nightmare, in brief glimpses and flashes. A scream rang out. When the lights flashed, something large pounced on one of Lilly’s friends.
The creature that landed on her was monstrous. As big as a man. It was still mutating as it bore the blonde girl down—it’s knee joints popping to face the wrong way. It ripped into the blonde girl with sharp fingernails which were merging into three talons. She was already limp. Already gone.
The lights flickered off. I crouched, my blood pounding in my ears. I wanted to call out Lilly’s name again, but I didn’t want to draw the creature’s attention.
In a burst of light, another monster landed near the first. It was birdlike, or at least had a bird head and wings. That was all I could make out before the lights died.
There was a squeak of metal hinges. A spear of light partially eliminated the auditorium as the silhouettes of two girls ran through the emergency exit.
Keep running, I urged silently. I wanted to go after my sister, but my knees felt too wobbly to stand. If I moved, I would be seen.
The lights flickered to life, illuminating the two creatures circling around the dead girl. Covered in feathers from their eagle-like heads to taloned front feet, their bodies were built like a lion, with cat-like back feet and a tail. Griffins. That was an actual griffin.
One was shaded richly brown, while the other was as raven dark as the feathers that had grown from my father’s arms.
“Father?” I’d only whispered the word, but the raven colored griffin snapped its head in my direction. The movement jerky and birdlike. Its tufted ears pricked.
It took two steps towards me, sharp talons clicking on the hard wooden stage. Nothing of my father remained in its blood-red eyes.
I scrambled back. The emergency exit to outside was on the other side of the auditorium, too far away to reach in time. I’d seen how fast those griffins moved.
The thing that had been my father opened its beak in a hiss. It gathered itself to leap, front talons poised to grab and rend.
The brown griffin charged, hitting my father with a thud. My father screeched and tried to claw the attacker off, but the brown’s strong beak closed around the base of my father’s neck.
With a wet pop of bone, the raven head was wrenched around at an impossible angle. My father fell, limp in death.
I ran.
The short hallway leading outside was sprayed with blood and littered with large feathers. The lights flickered erratically. I tripped over something soft; a body that looked like the smiling usher who had led me in. Now her face was a hard, gross mask. Gray pin feathers sprouted around her eyes and cheekbones.
A deep red gash crossed her chest. She was dead.
Lurching to my feet, I slammed the emergency door open and sprinted into chaos.
Some of the cars in the parking lot were overturned. Tempered glass littered the asphalt in glittering arcs. A wizened body of a man lay curled up not twenty feet away, looking as if all the moisture had been sucked out of him to leave a husk of a corpse. A griffin’s body hung, limp and smoking, off electric wires overhead.
Above me, branches snapped, and a large form took flight from the crown of a tall Jeffrey pine. Further off, there were screams and then a loud boom as something exploded. The ground vibrated again under my feet.
“Dylan! Over here!” Lilly waved at me from the open window of a parked yellow Hummer.
I pelted forward, yanked open the door, and pulled myself in.
Lilly and her other friend were inside. The second girl was a redhead about Lilly’s age, with curly hair and a bad case of acne on her chin. The moment I slammed the door shut, the girl pressed the lock button on a key fob.
Lilly grabbed my arm. “What’s going on?”
“I...” My teeth chattered, and even though I took air in great heaving breaths, it felt like I wasn’t getting any at all. “I don’t—I can’t...” Breathe. Think.
“Well, where’s dad?”
It took a few tries before any words came. “Those things.” It was all I could say.
And I had wished he was dead.
CHAPTER THREE
- Clarissa -
> Me, Ben, and the tall boy all took shelter in a culvert—a big metal pipe that diverts runoff during the spring melt. A trickle of icy water ran along the bottom, and the sides of the pipe were wet and slick from scum. Gross, but it was big enough to fit us all if we crawled. And hopefully, too small for anything else to follow.
I didn’t know what was wrong with Ben. He was awake and didn’t look like he was hurt, but he only moved when I pushed him along. His blue eyes stared straight ahead without focusing like he wasn’t seeing anything. Maybe it was shock. The bite underneath the back of my shoulder stung, but my arm worked okay, and I didn’t feel faint or anything. It could wait.
Once we were in the middle of the culvert, I wrapped my arms around Ben.
Outside, the chaos grew louder. The eagle-headed monsters screeched and shrilled. As if that wasn’t enough, the ground shook with earthquakes, trembling the water and the yuck inside the pipe. But worst of all was hearing the human screams, sometimes cut short. The voices sounded young, panicked, and so scared.
I covered Ben’s ears and held him against me, trying to shut out the worst of it. If we got out of this alive, he was going to need serious therapy.
I didn’t know how long it went on. An hour or more, maybe. By the time the noise tapered off, the sunlight shining into the end of the culvert had slanted to the west.
I heard shuffling and raised my head. The tall boy had crawled to the edge of the culvert to look out.
Ben’s eyes were closed, so I eased him down to a dryish, mossy patch. Then, quietly as I could, I scooted over to join the tall boy.
“I haven’t heard any sirens, yet,” I whispered.
He shook his head. “Me neither. Maybe the whole area got quarantined.”
That made sense, I guess. People were turning into monsters. I’d seen enough movies to know the authorities would want to contain... whatever this was.
I nodded and said, “I’m Clarissa.” He looked at me in surprise, so I added, “We never really introduced ourselves.” And I never thanked you for saving my life.
His teeth flashed white in the semi-gloom as he smiled. “Terry.”
“Thanks for, you know, killing that monster.”
He shrugged as if it had been nothing. “I saw you try to fight off that griffin, and I couldn’t stand back and do nothing. Were you hurt?”
Griffin? Those weren’t supposed to be real animals, right? I didn’t want to seem stupid so I shook my head. Maybe it was the adrenaline or fear, but the hot stripe of pain underneath my shoulder blade had faded to the background. I resisted the urge to touch it, not wanting to get culvert germs into the wound.
“It’s not bad.” My knees ached from kneeling. Carefully avoiding the tiny stream of water, I sat down and drew my legs to my chest. “You really think those were... griffins?” Now I thought about it, I vaguely remembered taking a unit on ancient Greek creatures in sixth-grade. “Like, from ancient mythology?”
He shrugged again. “Sure, why not? Head of an eagle, body of a lion. Makes sense—I mean, it doesn’t, but I’ve seen drawings of them in Celtic heraldic flags and stuff.”
“And you said you saw people turning into... griffins?”
Terry nodded and looked away. “And other things.”
“What?”
“I saw...” He took a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes.
I felt a prickle of guilt. I’d been trying not to think about how that griffin had flown off with the little girl. Who knew what Terry had seen? I squeezed his upper arm in sympathy.
Wow, he had some muscles. No wonder he dropped that griffin in two hits.
“I was driving when the whole highway just stopped.” Terry ran a jerky hand back through his straight, dark hair. It was long enough to cover the tips of his ears. “I thought there was an accident ahead. But the man in the next lane... It looked like a giant beak was coming out of his mouth. Like something else was growing out from within him, you know?”
No, I didn’t. The thought made my skin crawl.
“Someone else hit my truck. I’m sure it’s totaled.” He scowled and shook his head. “Anyway, the woman who hit me looked like she was covered with moss. It was growing all over, covering her... like, her eyes and nose. She looked like she couldn’t breathe. She kept trying to pull it off, but...”
Behind us, Ben made a small noise. I gripped Terry’s arm. He got the hint and fell quiet.
Closing my eyes, I tried and failed not to picture what he just described. Griffins and killer moss? This was too insane to be real. And what were we supposed to do, now? Just sit and wait for the police?
I hoped my mom was okay, and she wasn’t too worried about me and Ben. Oh, who was I kidding? She was probably freaking out right now. If I had my cell phone on me, I’d be able to call, but my phone was stashed in the glove box back in the sedan. My mom had made me promise to keep it there when driving so I wouldn’t be tempted to text my friends. I hadn’t even thought about grabbing it.
“This can’t be real, can it?“ I opened my eyes. “What could have—I’ve never heard of anything like this.”
“I have,” Terry said.
I stared at him.
“You know, zombie apocalypse?” He sang, “It’s the end of the world, and I feel fine?” Then he covered my hand with his and offered a small smile. “Sorry. Dumb joke.”
I tried to match his smile, but I felt numb inside.
Glancing out the culvert, I weighed our choices. Find help, or stay put? I didn’t like the idea of doing nothing.
“It’s going to be dark soon, and cold.” All I had on were jeans and a long-sleeve shirt, which was now torn behind one shoulder. Ben wore shorts and a superhero T-shirt.
“If we go out there, we’re dead,” Terry said flatly.
Not that I didn’t agree but that wasn’t helpful. It was only the end of April, and South Lake Tahoe sat at over six-thousand feet in elevation. I’d seen it snow here as late as July. Staying in a cold, wet pipe was out of the question.
Another griffin screech cut through the cooling air. I had a bad feeling it was going to come down to risking hypothermia or being torn apart. Ben still hadn’t moved, either. His breath steamed in the cooling evening.
I came to a decision. “Well, it’s too cold to stay here overnight.”
Terry scowled and said nothing.
I turned away from him to crawl back to my little brother. To my relief, Ben stirred at a touch on his shoulder. He stared up at me with blue eyes that seemed to have aged years in a matter of hours. “Was it really real?”
I nodded. “Yeah, Benny, but I’m here. I’m going to keep you safe.”
“Do you think Mom’s okay?”
My heart clenched. “Of course she is.” Our mom worked as a front desk clerk at one of the large casinos on Stateline, the divide between California and Nevada. “She could walk one block over to the sheriff station. You know the casino has a huge basement area for shelter during blizzards. She’s probably hiding out until it safe, same as we are. Can you get up?”
Ben’s lips pinched, but he nodded, leveraging himself up on one arm. Then he stopped. And even in the dim light, I could see a blush coloring his cheeks. “My shorts are wet,” he said in a harsh whisper. “I think I...” He stopped and looked between his legs. There was a definite wet patch there.
“It’s okay. You probably sat in the water in here.” I faked a smile. I didn’t smell urine, but the scum in the culvert smelled pretty bad already. “We’re going to find somewhere safer to hide out, so it will be a little chilly until it we get somewhere warm.”
“What?” He shook his head. “No, no! We can’t go out there.”
“Ben, it’s too cold—”
“No, they’re going to eat us!” His voice rose high and echoed in the culvert.
“We’ll be fine, little man,” Terry said, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I hadn’t realized he’d crawled up behind me. He gave me an apologetic smile and held up the tire iron.
I’d forgotten all about it. “We put a beat down on the last one, remember? Besides, me and your sister are too big to be carried off. We’ll protect you.”
I nodded and didn’t point out the griffin Terry had killed had been smaller than the one I’d seen flying off with the little girl. The gash under my shoulder blade gave an unexpected throb and settled into a low burn.
Ben looked between the two of us doubtfully. He wasn’t dumb.
“We’re not going far.” Terry gave a winning smile. “My house is only on the other side of the ridge, on the Nevada side.”
I turned to him. “Really?”
Terry shrugged. “Well, it’s my uncle Richard’s place. I live with him and my cousins, but it’s really not that far as the crow flies. They own a lakeside cabin with their own private beach. Nice and warm,” he added.
I hesitated. Personally, I wanted to hide in the apartment that me and Ben lived in with our mother, but that was at least fifteen miles away across the California side of the lake. It would be tough to get there if the roads were blocked, or if the area was under quarantine.
Or if the griffins were still hungry.
“What about Mom?” Ben asked.
“I left my cell phone in the car. We’ll call her and let her know everything is okay,” I said, giving in because keeping up a united front would soothe him.
“I think we should wait to move until after sunset,” Terry said.
“Why?”
“I’ve been thinking. You know how the griffins have eagle heads? Well, eagles don’t hunt at night. So maybe griffin’s won’t, either.”
That wasn’t much of a theory. Didn’t lions hunt at night? And I didn’t like the thought of walking around in the dark with those horrors everywhere. But if we stayed out of sight, under the trees... Well. Maybe?
I cast a glance towards the brightly lit end of the culvert. At least an hour until full nightfall.
****
The griffins started shrieking again as the sun set. Their shrill, whistling cries bounced around the tall trees like creepy songbirds. Ben refused to move while the worst of it was going on. I didn’t blame him.
Under Wicked Sky: Book 1 Page 2