by Jacob Rayne
He cast the torch up onto the skull. The skeleton’s right hand held a gun, the barrel of which was still jammed into its mouth.
Suddenly the flecks and shards on the shirt made sense.
A star-shaped hole in the top of the skull and the tip of the gun protruding from the wound confirmed Thompson’s theory. The cloud of blood and brain on the wall a few feet behind the corpse was icing on a particularly grisly cake.
He realised that the blood and brain, blown out of the man’s skull by the gun blast, was the slimy substance he had put his hands in. This thought was enough to make him heave up on the floor.
As he wiped the vomit-induced tears from his eyes, he noticed six empty bullet casings.
The rest of the cavern was empty. Thompson figured the guy had been lost in the woods, had either fallen or been attacked, breaking his leg in the process.
Full of desperation, he had crawled in here and tried to hide from the creatures that lurked in the woods. In this small haven, he had made his last stand, firing off five bullets and using the sixth to kill himself.
This thought turned out to be even worse than that of the dead man being savaged by the wood’s bloodthirsty inhabitants.
The guy had fired five shots.
The chances of missing at this range were slim. Out of five bullets, Thompson reckoned at least two, maybe three – hell, probably all – of them had hit their intended target. At this distance, the damage inflicted would be serious if not deadly.
He drew two conclusions from the dead man’s final moments.
Both were as unappealing as the other.
The first was that whatever was in the woods was hard to kill.
The second was that there were a hell of a lot of them.
And whichever conclusion he drew from these two, an even more disturbing thought came to light.
This man had taken his own life to avoid facing the inhabitants of the woods.
This hopeless, desperate act was somehow worse than finding the man torn limb from limb or partially eaten. It brought home to Thompson how truly dangerous and horrific the creatures pursuing him must be.
It had taken a good fifteen minutes, but Abbott could finally see the slope on the other side.
‘Nearly there,’ he shouted back to his companions, who were beginning to feel they were never going to see the end of the concrete hellhole.
Mark and Jake picked up their pace with this encouraging news.
In comparison, the drop on the other side of the long stretch of rubble was as pleasing as a cold beer on a hot beach.
At the bottom of the pile, they rushed away, not wanting to be on the wrong end of another cave in.
‘Right,’ Abbott said when they were a safe distance from the pile of rubble. ‘I reckon these guys will be keeping a close eye on this lab, on account of what’s being done in there. I reckon we’ll be up against men with guns, at the very least. You still got your guns on you?’
Mark and Jake nodded.
‘Thank Christ for that. Ain’t no way we’d have been going back,’ Abbott grinned, pretending to wipe sweat off his brow.
The concrete tunnel seemed to take an eternity to pass. It seemed like they were getting nowhere, but occasional glances over their shoulders revealed how far behind the pile of rubble was growing.
‘Reckon we’ve done about a mile,’ Abbott said. ‘Keep on your toes. We’re getting closer.’
He scanned the bleak tunnel endlessly. The walls were flat, featureless, monochrome. There seemed nowhere that anyone could hide.
He coughed and spat on the tunnel floor.
They trudged on another few hundred yards and alcoves began to appear in the tunnel walls.
‘Right, take extra care now,’ Abbott said. ‘Those look like guard posts to me.’
They all scanned the tunnel walls, seeing no one.
Abbott’s finger waited on the trigger.
He clacked his tongue quietly.
‘Something’s wrong here, I can just feel it,’ he muttered.
As soon as the words had left his lips, the bullets began to fly.
Thompson was woken from his uneasy sleep by the feeling of something crawling across his skin. At first he thought it was one of the mutants and lashed out hard with fists and feet.
There seemed to be nothing there to hit.
He didn’t know what the hell was going on, and he didn’t want to know. He just wanted to sleep until morning and make his escape in the daylight.
A selfish thought made him smile; if the creatures had a victim, maybe they wouldn’t need to kill him.
As he tried to settle again, he heard a noise, similar to the thrumming of an insect’s wings. He fumbled for the torch and flicked it on. Flashed it around the inside of his sanctuary.
He saw nothing for a time, then he looked up and saw a moth hovering above his head. He jolted. The fucking thing was huge; almost six inches from end to end.
He tried to swat it away but it was much heavier than he’d anticipated. As he lashed out for a second time, it moved to avoid his blow and landed on the back of his hand. He felt a sharp pain – like a bee sting turned up to eleven – and threw his hand around trying to get the vile thing off it.
The claws clung tighter, cinching his skin up as its pull increased. He cried out at the sudden intensity of the pain. It began moving up his arm, its claws anchoring it to his skin. He cried out in anguish and beat at it with his gun. It moved out of the way, never once releasing its grip on his skin.
When it reached his shoulder, he stared down at its writhing teeth, its antennae that flicked the air and the cold black eyes that seemed glued to his.
Its wings unfurled and stretched around his ear, the claws sinking deep into his scalp and face. He cried out as blood ran down his cheeks and formed warm pools in the folds of skin on his neck.
He slapped at it, but the clammy skin did not respond. It was intent on its goal and was not letting go.
Into his ear it crawled, making him retch as its claws tickled and scratched the inside of his ear canal. He screamed and rolled around the floor, throwing his head around desperately in an attempt to get it out of his ear. It was no use.
He felt it crawling under his skin, making its way round to the back of his head and punching its claws through his skull. His horrendous screams echoed back at him as teeth poked into his brain and the creature’s mouth began to pull. It felt like he’d had blazing knitting needles stabbed through the base of his skull.
He was still screaming when the mercy of oblivion claimed him.
Jake took one in the shoulder and fell, his arm spouting thick torrents of gore. His pained groan shocked Mark into action.
Since the ordeal in the mall way back in Taunton, he found he could move much faster than he’d ever thought possible.
He dropped to the floor and scuttled over to the nearest alcove, pressing himself into the concrete so hard it left an imprint of the surface on his back.
He leant out and fired off a burst of gunfire at the nearest gas-masked man. His target fell, blood pouring from the shattered left eyehole of his mask.
Abbott gritted his teeth and dropped to his knees, trying to scoot over to Jake and fire at the same time.
‘We come in peace, assholes,’ he shouted as he raised his hands.
The gunfire returned tenfold.
‘Fuckers,’ he muttered, dragging Jake into the alcove across from Mark.
Mark’s gun sprayed hot lead once more, backing off the guard who was closing in on Abbott and Jake.
‘Thanks, son,’ Abbott grunted. He fired a quick burst, popping the nearest guard’s head like a blood- and brain-filled piñata.
He ducked as the guards returned fire.
When the gunfire and shouted orders died down, he shouted, ‘I’m Captain Lance Abbott of the US Marine Corps. We’re here to find and protect the laser device you are holding in that lab. Adam Jeffries is dead. He sent us to try and protect it.’
> They couldn’t see the nearest guard’s face, but they figured he wasn’t buying it. His finger was still curled around the trigger, his shoulders and arms rigid with tension.
‘I’m not lying,’ Abbott said. ‘We had Jeffries in the shelter after Subject I tried to kill him. Unfortunately he died as a result of his injuries. Jeffries’ personal ass-licker let the other test facilities go then painted the wall with his shit-for-brains. They told us about this lab and said this was our best bet to fight off the mutants.’
The guard’s finger wavered on the trigger.
Abbott still had hold of his gun, still had it levelled at the stomach of the gunman.
He reckoned he could get off a shot before the gunman if needs be, but he could tell his enemy was starting to waver.
His colleagues closed in, ten of them at first, with more hanging back against the walls.
He had been in worse situations, but not by much.
‘What do you reckon?’ the lead gas-masked guard asked his colleague.
The second guard shrugged. ‘Reckon they must have been with Jeffries, cos apart from him there was only really Blake and Riggs who could have known about this place.’
‘They could have killed Jeffries though,’ a third man piped up.
Abbott tried to hide his nervous gulp. He knew they were finished if they found out he’d killed Jeffries.
‘Reckon you’re right,’ the first guard said. ‘I’d not risk taking anyone back. You know how bad a mood Cormac is in.’
Abbott’s finger tightened slightly on the trigger. He knew what was coming.
‘Drop the fucking gun,’ the first guard barked.
Abbott groaned slightly and put the weapon on the floor.
As he bent, he saw something moving out of the corner of his eye. It was behind them but vanished when he tried to look at it. No one else seemed to have noticed it.
‘What the—’ he muttered.
‘On your knees,’ the second guard said, slamming the gun butt into Abbott’s stomach. The captain tensed his abs hard and took the blow without a flicker of distress.
The shotgun was shoved roughly into his face.
He saw Mark being put in a similar position to his right. Jake was now unconscious.
‘If you’re gonna kill me get it the fuck over with,’ Abbott said. ‘I ain’t gonna beg. This goddamn world’s taking the fast track to hell anyway thanks to you godless cocksuckers.’
The first man slammed the shotgun into Abbott’s nose, making it erupt like a blood geyser. The thick gore ran down his lips.
‘You gonna do it then, Dale, or shall I?’ the second gas-masked man said, pushing his shotgun against Abbott’s forehead hard enough to leave a mark.
‘I’ll do it,’ Dale said.
Before his finger could depress the trigger, he found himself flying backwards through the air.
Abbott didn’t even see what had attacked him, but he heard a high-pitched cry and saw a shower of blood erupt from the empty hole where the guard’s head had been.
‘Ah Christ,’ the third guard said.
‘What was that?’ Abbott said aloud.
A second guard went down, thick torrents of blood racing from his torso which looked as though it had been hit with a bomb.
Gunfire raked their position.
Abbott grabbed his gun and fired at the nearest guard, putting him down with a neat headshot. Blood raced from the respirator holes as he fell to his knees.
Abbott hugged the wall and pulled Jake in to conceal him better.
The masked guards were milling around in utter panic, firing their guns at seemingly empty air.
Finally, Abbott saw the apparition causing such terror in them, and promptly wished he hadn’t.
Its body was similar to that of a human, only with four extra limbs protruding from the sides of its ribcage. Its head looked like an elongated human skull, only it was hinged vertically, like a bear trap hewn from bone. The sinister creature looked like a cross between spider and man.
Its skin was pale grey, almost blending in with the concrete. This and the startling speed at which it moved made it very hard to spot.
As he watched in disbelief, its eight slender limbs propelled it to one of the guards who Mark had gutshot. He writhed facedown, his hands clasped to the gushing wound in his belly.
The arachnoid let out a hideous cry then its head darted in. The jaws drew apart, wide enough to hold the man’s head in between them.
Then they slammed shut with horrendous force, easily crushing the man’s skull and sending blood and brain matter coursing down to the tunnel floor.
Some of the guards had seen this in the midst of the carnage and, after loosing off a petulant spray of bullets, turned and ran.
The spider creature slurped at the blood gushing from the guard’s crushed skull, clearly in no hurry. The dozens of gleaming black orbs that were its eyes seemed to see everywhere at once.
This Abbott found even more worrying.
He tried to tear his eyes from it but it was strangely captivating.
Guards ran in, surrounding the feasting creature. The nearest man unleashed a spray of buckshot that hit the creature in its armoured chest, setting free rivulets of dark blood.
A cry that sounded more pissed off than anything Abbott had ever heard rang out and the creature swung a clawed arm at the guard’s head, snapping his neck with the force of the blow.
The other guards took a few steps back but continued firing.
The creature let out a cry of utter hatred and darted at the closest guard.
It took a hell of a lot to scare Abbott, but even he felt unadulterated fear at the thought of what the creature was capable of doing in battle.
A hand clamped on his shoulder.
‘Come with me,’ the gas-masked man said, his wide eyes clearly visible through the eyeholes in his mask. ‘We won’t last five minutes with that thing.’
Mark ran over and helped Abbott to support Jake.
Behind them echoed screams, and the sounds of blood splashing the floor and warm flesh being rent by claws and fangs.
‘So who found the body in the woods?’ Duggan said.
‘The first body was actually found in the tunnel beneath the reservoir,’ Hennessee said. ‘By two kids, believe it or not.’
‘Whoa, wait a minute. How did one of those things get into the tunnel? I thought the reservoir was in place to stop them getting out of the woods?’
Hennessee furrowed his brow. ‘I never thought of it like that. Of course, we had no idea there was anything in the woods till you turned up. We were putting it all down to a nut with an axe.’
Duggan looked at him, raised his eyebrows quizzically.
‘There must be a weakness in the system somewhere.’
Duggan pulled out his phone and quickly started flicking through Blake’s document to see if anything had been mentioned. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack; the document was huge.
‘Doubt I’m gonna find anything in there in a hurry,’ he said, knocking the phone off and shoving it into his pocket. ‘Reckon our best bet is to go and see the kid who found him I guess.’
Hennessee winced. ‘He’s traumatised, poor bastard.’
‘It’s either that or interrogate Finn.’
Hennessee winced further. ‘Alright then, you twisted my arm.’
‘Had a feeling you’d say that.’
‘What in the name of God was that?’ Abbott said when they were far enough away to stop for a second.
‘Keep running,’ the guard said.
After a few minutes more, they reached a narrow stone archway.
‘In there,’ the guard said.
Abbott went in first. There were five men with guns on the other side, all of them pointed in his face.
‘They’re with me,’ the guard said. ‘Fucking sentinel’s running riot.’
The five guards reluctantly lowered their weapons.
A metal door slid back a
fter the guard who’d saved them had typed a code into the keypad. The opening was undeniably welcoming after the mayhem they’d seen in the tunnel.
The guard shoved them all in then slammed the door shut behind them.
‘What was that thing?’ Mark asked.
The guard hauled his mask off, dragging in deep lungfuls of air.
Abbott lit up a cigar and did the same.
‘One of the creatures from the labs,’ the guard said. ‘A few of them were kept down here to stop unwanted visitors. It must have followed you guys here.’
‘What’s it doing down here?’ Abbott said.
‘It knows what we’re doing in here and it wants the laser destroyed.’
‘Ah holy shit,’ Abbott said. ‘I don’t care to see that thing up close.’
‘You and me both,’ the guard said.
‘You’re fucking stupid for making those things, you know,’ Abbott said.
The guard hung his head.
‘Your greed has sold us all down the fucking river,’ Abbott growled.
‘What the hell are these civilians doing in here?’ a guard from behind them said.
‘Civilians?’ Abbott said. ‘I was fighting Charlie when you were still shitting in your nappies, you fucking prick.’
This did not go down well. The guard slammed the butt of his gun into the back of Abbott’s head, sending him to his knees.
‘You’re gonna have to hit harder than that to hurt me, you fucking baby,’ Abbott grimaced.
‘I rescued them from the sentinel,’ the guard said.
‘You know the rules. No outsiders. Fucking tree huggers would blow this place up given half the chance.’
‘I know. But—’
The second guard sighed. ‘Take them to the pen. You can explain this to Cormac.’
The Coache’s neat little home was typical of the houses in Rook’s Foot Canyon: wooden beams, white walls, geometrically precise paved yard displaying flowers of every shape and shade. Duggan enjoyed the sweet scent of the flowers as he picked his way up the narrow garden path.