by Jacob Rayne
They’d been going for almost an hour when the illuminated brake lights of another vehicle broke the bleak, monotonous grey vista.
‘Hang back,’ Abbott said. ‘I wanna make sure this ain’t a trap. The snake-eyed fucker’s just the type to set something up like this.’
Kyle and the scientist exchanged a curious glance; the jeep was totalled, crashed into the wall hard enough to make the front bonnet resemble a concertina.
Cormac didn’t seem crazy enough to write off his only method of transportation just to pull them into a trap. Besides, he may not have even known they were following him.
Abbott put the scope from his long out of commission sniper rifle to his eye and took a long hard look at the scene before them. There didn’t seem to be anyone there, but he knew from experience that that didn’t necessarily mean they were alone.
With the way the arachnoids had been almost invisible in mind, he vowed to proceed with extreme caution.
‘I think we’re ok,’ he said, ‘But drive in real slow so I can keep an eye on things.’
The scientist complied. He stopped a few yards from the rear of the vehicle. Abbott got out and approached, his magnum a reassuring weight in his hand. Something didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t see anything that told him it was a trap.
The hiss of steam escaping the shattered radiator was the only sound that greeted his ears. He saw a man slumped over the wheel. Blood coated the windscreen, forming a thick curtain that dripped onto the dash and streaked down into the floorwells on both sides of the vehicle.
From outside the car it wasn’t clear if the wound was from the crash or not, though the amount of blood suggested not.
Abbott’s eyes flicked everywhere, searching for the enemy he expected.
He drew level with the driver’s door and pulled it open. The driver slumped forwards, his head hitting the dash hard enough to leave a further splat of blood there.
He was dead, that much was obvious though the cause of death wasn’t. It seemed the injuries were from the crash, from what he could tell.
There was nothing else in the car.
Kyle waved Abbott back, much to the Marine’s annoyance.
‘What is it?’ he frowned.
‘If I remember right there’s a shelter somewhere around here,’ he said. ‘If they’ve had to proceed from here on foot, then they may be holed up in there for a rest.’
‘Where is it?’
‘Maybe a mile at most. But the cases of serum are heavy. They’ll be dragging them on a sack barrow, so it’ll be pretty intense, especially in this heat. I’d bet they’ll have stopped for food and water.’
‘Reckon you’re right,’ Abbott said. ‘Let’s get caught up while they’re stood around holding their dicks.’
The prison wasn’t hard to find; it lay dead centre of the island, a twisted dark mass of spikes, concrete and bars that screamed oppression with every inch of its bleak façade.
Just looking at it was enough to bring on a fit of depression.
‘Ok, let’s go,’ Duggan said.
They marched up to the barred gate and pressed the buzzer. The man who answered spoke very formally. Duggan could tell just by his voice that he was going to be a royal pain in the ass.
‘Hey, we’re fleeing from Rook’s Foot Canyon,’ Duggan began. ‘We’re seeking sanctuary and we believe this is the best place. We have guns, but we come in peace.’
‘Go away, whoever you are,’ came the well-educated tones of the man on the other side of the intercom.
‘We’re coming in whether you like it or not,’ Duggan said.
The gunshot obliterated any reply from the box and the padlock from the gate clanged to the floor. Duggan kicked the door open. They moved in through the gate, guns drawn, eyes scanning for enemies.
They reached the main entrance without seeing any opposition and used the intercom to try to talk their way in. Duggan grinned as the receptionist buzzed them in. Too late, the formal man appeared on the speaker, telling her not to open the doors.
They all smiled.
Duggan slammed a vicious left hook into the jaw of a guard who was starting to draw his gun on them. They snuck up the stairs, following the signs for the warden’s office.
The door was open when they walked in. A slim man in an expensive pinstripe suit sat behind a desk. Duggan could tell just by looking at him that he was the owner of the formal voice.
‘So you managed to break in,’ he said. ‘What’s next? Killing me? Releasing all these highly-dangerous men?’
‘No,’ Duggan said, shoving his gun inside the inside of his jacket. ‘I told you that we came in peace and I meant it. There are a shitload of mutant reptiles headed out of Rook’s Foot Canyon. We need a place to stay, this island being the most remote and safe, especially now we’ve taken out all the bridges.’
‘That’s a beautiful story, Mr Duggan. Now the truth please.’
‘That is the truth. Go online. Check the local news.’
The man looked uneasily at Duggan, like he thought he was the butt of an elaborate joke. Slowly, he typed the words into his computer. Pressed enter.
‘Something’s come up,’ he said.
‘Read it,’ Duggan said. ‘I’ll give you a thousand bucks if there’s no mention of slaughter and mutations.’
The offer was too good to resist. The warden read the article a few times, not believing his eyes.
‘It’s real,’ Duggan said. ‘And soon they’ll have finished with that town and be headed here.’
The warden’s face went pale. He stared at his hands for a few seconds, then got up.
‘I want in,’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’ Duggan said.
‘If this is real, I want to be a part of your group. You can stay here, on the condition that you go nowhere near my cells, and in return I want your help to protect the prison. The people in here are probably just as dangerous as those things out there.’
‘I very much doubt that,’ Duggan said, ‘But you got yourself a deal.’ He sealed the deal with a firm handshake. ‘Thank you.’
‘I’ve got men here. Weapons. Some ammo. We’re not too stocked up on food though. I think this will be the best place to defend.’
‘Me too.’
‘We’ve got some ammo, but probably not enough. We’ll have to address that later.’
‘We’ve got bedding here,’ Warden said. ‘You guys can bed down here in my office.’
They did so, taking it in turns to keep watch on the roof.
Chuck led his young charge on a snaking path through the woods. His pace was very slow, due to overwhelming exhaustion as the after-effects of adrenaline hit him like a ton of bricks. A log cabin sat in the centre of the clearing ahead of them. It looked a little dilapidated but intact.
They walked into the clearing, looking around for the orange eyes, in case they’d unwittingly walked into a trap. They saw nothing so moved in, questioning their decision with every step.
As Abbott’s party walked, there were heavy rubber trails on the tunnel floor. Abbott figured these were off the wheels of the sack barrow. It still wasn’t clear why the jeep had crashed, until they got roughly halfway between the shelter and the crashed vehicle.
Thick trails of bloody mucus covered the tunnel floor. They also gleamed on the walls and ceiling like blood red stars.
‘What the fuck caused those?’ Abbott said. ‘They’re massive.’
‘I don’t want to know,’ Simone said, shuddering with fear.
‘They’re going the same way as we are, by the look of it,’ Abbott said.
‘Yep,’ the scientist said, his voice cracking a little.
‘But we need to get that serum, so, come hell or high water, we’re pressing on, ladies and gentlemen.’
In places there were spatters of blood on the walls and floor. In others, a gleaming pool of blood still sat there. The strange tracks smeared the blood across the surfaces in thick trails.
‘Looks like they were snatched and dragged away,’ Abbott said with a frown.
‘I was just thinking that,’ Kyle said, ‘But by what?’
‘You should fucking know since you helped make them,’ Abbott snapped.
Kyle shrunk back. He had no answer and had no desire to further anger the Texan. His face was still pounding off the last beating he’d been given.
The tunnel forked off in a Y-shape.
‘Just great,’ Abbott said. ‘Which way do we go now?’
The trails of blood seemed to stop on the left hand trail. The right trail was full of them, seemingly more numerous than they were before the path split.
‘It’s the right hand path, I’m afraid,’ the scientist said.
‘Why am I not surprised?’ Abbott said.
As they turned the corner, Abbott let out a stunned cry and uttered, ‘What in the name of all that’s holy is that?’
Kyle rushed ahead to see what had him so baffled. ‘They look like spider webs,’ he said.
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought, but they’re fucking massive.’
Kyle gulped. The pale webs covered the majority of the path, like nets to stop fish.
‘Any ideas?’ Abbott said.
While they were waiting for the scientist to reply, there was an ear-splitting shriek and a horrendous creature appeared from the gloom at the far end of the tunnel.
Duggan found that he couldn’t sleep. He was not alone; only a couple of their party were able to get any sleep.
They ate and then called a meeting where they decided that the priorities were setting up a watch on the bridges – in case anything did manage to cross – and getting more food, water and weapons.
The third of these was easy: the prison had a good supply of guns, ammo, knives and coshes. Duggan would have liked to have gotten more – and some Tasers would have been nice too – but it could wait until extra food and water had been found.
Craggs, Weiland and Winters went off to scavenge food.
Lennon and Caitlin Craggs went up to the roof, to act as lookouts.
Weiland’s kids followed them up too.
Duggan and Hennessee went up to the roof to see what the vantage points were like.
They both gasped in awe when they saw the helicopter on the roof.
‘You kept that quiet,’ Duggan said.
‘Yeah,’ Warden said. ‘I wasn’t sure whether I could trust you guys. I didn’t want a bunch of potential criminals loose with my chopper.’
‘You realise what this means?’ Duggan said. ‘We can go and take a look at that lab now that the monsters have begun to move out into Rook’s Foot Canyon.’
They went down out of the rain and wind.
‘Can I take the chopper out?’ Duggan asked Warden. ‘We have unfinished business in Rook’s Foot Canyon.’
‘Yes, as long as you pick up my wife and daughter first,’ Warden said.
‘Have we got enough fuel?’ Duggan asked.
‘There’s tons of fuel,’ Warden said. ‘But I think we should get ourselves secured here before we go anywhere else.’
‘I agree,’ Duggan said.
‘Me too,’ Lennon said.
‘So who’s coming?’ Duggan said.
‘Peterson knows how to fly it,’ Warden said. ‘So do Grieves and Mercer.’
‘We’ll take one of ’em. Save the other two,’ Duggan said.
Warden nodded.
‘I say it’s me, Warden, Carroll and Peterson then,’ Duggan said. ‘Unless anyone else wants to come?’
‘Winters and Calvin, you’re in charge of bridge security. Take the walkie talkies and get directions from the group on the roof.’
‘Cool,’ Winters said. ‘Kinda like border patrol.’
‘Ok, Hennessee, I’ll see you soon.’
‘Take care.’
‘Will do. You ready, guys?’
Duggan, Warden, Carroll and Peterson went up to the roof. The chopper was loud as hell but it was hardly audible over the steady drumming of rain on the roof. They set off for Warden’s house.
Chuck and Jon explored the cabin. It probably belonged to a hunter, judging by the trophies on the wall. Deer’s heads, bull’s heads and even an antelope’s head watched them through glassy eyes.
Guns were hung on the walls, ranging from the modern (a smart, well-cared for sniper rifle) to the antique (a dust-covered musket and pirate-style rapier).
A bloody chopping board filled one corner of the rustic kitchen worktops. A rack of dust-covered but still lethally sharp knives hung from hooks behind the chopping board.
The other cabin walls were occupied with photos and shooting trophies. Whoever had lived here had been quite the marksman.
In the front room, a luxurious sheep skin rug adorned the floor. A brick chimney had been constructed at the back of the room, housing a coal or wood fire. Wood chunks were piled high in the left corner of the hearth.
‘Least we can keep warm,’ Jon said.
‘Yep. We got sniper rifles too.’
‘What do you reckon we do?’
‘I think we should stay here. We get as many of those dead things as we can and string them up in the trees. Y’know, try to scare them away. Also, I reckon we should try and get a fence up. Keep the scaly bastards out.’
‘Yeah, good thinking. You want to go now?’
‘Reckon we should eat first. We’ll need our strength.’
Chuck scoured the cupboards, finding a few tins of corned beef and some eye-covered but still edible potatoes.
‘Corned beef hash?’ he said.
‘Sounds good.’
‘Sweet baby Jesus, what the fucking hell is that?’ Abbott bellowed. On instinct he fired his magnum, sending sparks flying from the armoured hide of the monstrosity that approached them.
It was the size of a horse, but with four long, arachnid legs jutting from its pale torso. Its head looked very much like a spider’s, with bristling fangs and dark gleaming clusters of eyes that seemed to pin them to the spot.
‘Mother of God. That’s fucking hideous,’ Abbott bellowed.
He raised the crossbow and aimed carefully. The bolt struck the creature in one of its eye clusters, putting out one of the swollen black orbs. A thick dark goo oozed out from around the arrow.
The creature let out a bone-chilling cry and darted forward. ‘Fuck this,’ Kyle said, running back down the tunnel full pelt.
He too screamed when he saw that the far end of the tunnel was also covered in the thick cobwebs.
‘This end’s webbed up too,’ he called out in despair.
He could see nothing at this end that represented a threat (other than the web) so he and his girls ran at it, hoping to break through with their momentum.
The webs were as strong as high-tension wires, so it was like running into a brick wall. Their frantic movements served only to cinch the wires tighter.
The chopper landed on a clear patch of land a few hundred yards from Warden’s house.
‘I’ll go with him,’ Duggan said. ‘Carroll, you mind guarding the pilot?’
‘Not at all.’
Duggan and Warden got out, each heavily armed. Duggan had his Taser in his right hand. His eyes scoured the streets. From the chopper they’d seen scenes of unrest at the outskirts of Warden’s town. He hoped they’d get Warden’s family out before the rioters came this way.
They jogged towards the house.
‘Looks ok,’ Warden said.
Duggan nodded.
The street was quiet; no sign of rioters yet. They ran up to the house. Warden unlocked the door and called inside.
His wife jumped when she saw the gun.
‘I’ll explain later,’ he said, taking a furtive glance over his shoulder. ‘Pack some stuff up and get Chrissie.’
She agreed but was clearly unhappy about it.
Five minutes later, she appeared with a little blonde girl and a holdall full of clothes. A teenaged girl came out a few seconds later.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ Duggan beamed.
‘Now let’s go,’ Warden said. He turned to Chrissie, his youngest daughter, knelt down a little and said. ‘We get to ride in a chopper, sweetie.’
Her eyes lit up as they climbed aboard.
‘Hey, there’s a line of cars headed for the bridge,’ Lennon said.
‘Haven’t they seen that the bridge is out?’ Caitlin Craggs said.
‘Seems like it, yeah. They’ve stopped now.’
Lennon zoomed in with his binoculars. The people in the cars were angrily gesticulating at the broken bridge. ‘Keep moving,’ Lennon muttered. ‘Find some place else.’
As if the guy had heard him, he got back into his car, pulled a screeching U-turn and drove away.
Lennon watched them a while longer, until the rest of the cars had done the same thing. Well, all except one. One of the cars, a red Subaru, Lennon noted, reversed all the way down the bridge and set off forwards at one hell of a pace.
Smoke blazed from the car’s exhaust and tyres. The car hit the end of the bridge and hung in the air for a few seconds, wheels still spinning.
It was obvious to Lennon that the car wasn’t going to make it, but the man in the driver’s seat had a mad look of hope on his face.
The look turned to terror as the car began to plummet, a good 30 feet from the other side of the bridge.
The car seemed to take forever to fall, then it hit the water below with a titanic splash. Though Lennon could no longer see the car’s driver, he felt sure that no one could have survived that fall.
He raised the binoculars and saw a small crowd gathered at the end of the bridge, staring at the shattered remains of the vehicle.
Slowly, the crowd of people dissipated; the spectacle of the smashed up car no longer holding their attention. Instead, it seemed they were headed to the next bridge along, to see if they could jump that one.
Let them try, Lennon thought with a bemused grin. Think of it as the modern equivalent of natural selection.
Abbott watched the Riggs family’s plight with one eye, as most of his attention was taken up by the behemoth on its way towards him.