by D. S. Ritter
“You did good, Papi,” she said, “you did good.”
The others agreed. Despite the trauma, the group broke up just as quickly as it had formed with everyone hauling ass back to their garages.
“Let’s meet up for breakfast later, guys,” said Carter as he and Kim left. Sam nodded and went back up to the gate.
The traffic inside and outside the garage was an utter mess, and the street was covered in what smelled like sewage. Sam saw a manhole cover laying on the sidewalk and figured they must have blown during the earthquake. Cars sat abandoned and people were peering out from the bar across the street, unsure if it was safe to come out yet. The young guy who’d been looking for his car earlier came wandering by, staring at the shocking scene. “Wow,” he said, looking at Sam, “what happened?”
“You don’t know?”
He shrugged. “Did something explode?”
“You don’t remember anything weird like, twenty minutes ago? When you were looking for your car?”
“Dude,” he said, looking a little frustrated, “I’ve been looking for my car for like, three hours. I mean, I don’t know. I guess I zoned out or something. But can you help me?”
Sam sighed, perplexed. “Do you have your ticket?”
“No.”
She shrugged. “Then no, I can’t really help you. Sorry.”
He gave her a dirty look as he walked away, but she couldn’t have cared less.
Standing at the entrance to the garage, covered in monster blood and stinking like garbage, Sam heard sirens blaring in the distance. Fire trucks and ambulances trying to get through the crowded streets. But, Ann Arbor was still there. The world was still there. At least, for now.
Sam breathed a sigh of relief and put her hand in her pocket. Then she put it in her other pocket, searching. The amulet was gone.
Her phone buzzed.
[unknown number]
Snooze, you lose.
Thanks for the handy trinket
"Son of a bitch," she muttered. No wonder he'd come back.
She really hoped this was last time she’d hear from him, though she had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t. The amulet belonged in a museum, but hey, that was something to think about tomorrow, now that there was one.
"Smaller monsters, uncountable, welled up out of the hole like puss from a wound."
Epilogue
Blackness was all Joe Huckabee found when he opened his eyes. Then, they adjusted. He felt as though he were waking up from a long sleep. There had been dreams though they were vague and confusing. His memories of how he had gotten there, and even where there was, were fleeting, unintelligible.
His entire body ached. As he shifted, trying to sit up, white hot pain shot through his spine and legs and he screamed in agony.
Through the tears in his eyes, he could make out a distant shape, like a huge rock formation, just beyond the cliff he found himself on. He couldn’t turn his head to see it all without intense discomfort, but the outcropping seemed to go forever upwards. It was unimaginably big, towering in the sky. Except, he realized, there was no sky. This, he realized, was an enormous cave, somewhere deep underground.
As the idea he would never see daylight again settled into his mind like some nightmare creature, the rock shifted in front of him, turning in the darkness. It slid downward, like a secret passage opening in an adventure movie. Except there was no tunnel beyond, but an iris, huge and orange and glowing. Joe watched with utter horror as the eye opened, the pupil rolling until it fell upon him, impossibly huge and real.
He screamed and screamed, but the sounds of his cries died long before they got anywhere near the surface.
The End.
And now, enjoy a preview of Last Cull, the sequel...
Chapter One
“HQ to Seven-One. You hear me, Seven-One?”
Sam stood at the entrance to the parking garage, staring at the clock on the bank tower down the street, willing time to go faster. At eleven on a Tuesday, the bars had quieted down and there'd been nothing to do for the last half an hour.
The night air was warm and sweet, scented by the freshly planted flowers around the structure. But, despite the fine weather, Sam found her mind wandering, as it often did, to darker times. It had only been a year since all the pipes in the city had blown, showering the streets in raw sewage. Ann Arbor became a hot mess for months with streets closed for repairs, orange barrels everywhere.
“HQ to Seven-One. Sam?”
Coming back from her thoughts, she picked up the radio. “Seven-One here, sorry, HQ.”
“Finally. Can you get us a car count, please?”
“Ten-Four.”
Sam took the stairs down to the lowest level of the parking garage. When she reached the bottom she waited until the motion detectors picked her up and the lights came on. It had been a while since she’d come to grips with her fears. She wasn’t over being jittery about the dark, the basement still made her skin crawl, but she could convince herself there wasn’t anything lurking there. She could go get a car count without carrying a weapon now, though she still jumped at any sudden sounds.
The city had repaired the cistern a few weeks after everything exploded. The official story was that a gas leak underground had ignited. Knowing the truth, she checked that cistern every now and again, if only to convince herself that the bottomless void really was gone. Tonight, she walked by, content to get her count.
Sam worked her way up the structure, half-level by half-level, counting the cars. It had taken almost a year for things to calm down. No more trans-dimensional monsters. Joe Huckabee had never been found either. She still had nightmares about him sometimes; his glassy eyes disappearing into the bottomless darkness.
The air got cooler as she reached the top of the structure. A refreshing breeze reminded her that fall was well on its way, despite summer’s heat refusing to fade. She glanced up at the few stars visible though the city’s light pollution. There was no chance they would align against her again, right? She hoped the cosmos would go about its merry way and leave her well enough alone from now on.
Seven cars remained on the top level and she was about to call in her count when she realized one of them was occupied. She watched for a second and realized there were two people in there, in various states of undress. The windows were fogging up.
“Oh, come on,” she grumbled. It wasn’t like she didn’t understand. Sometimes people didn't want to wait to get home. Sometimes people liked the thrill of possibly getting caught. But, dealing with these situations was one of her least favorite parts of the job. Nobody appreciated getting interrupted, even if it meant being asked to leave by her and not, say, the police.
“Seven-One to HQ.” She raised her voice so they might hear.
“Go ahead, Seven-One. Got a count for me?”
“I just found a couple, uh… going at it. How do you want me to handle this?”
“’Going at it?’”
“Having sex in their car.”
There was an embarrassed radio silence. She assumed Marcus, the night manager, didn’t appreciate her bluntness, but she didn’t have all night to beat around the bush.
“Well, uh, you’re going to have to ask them to leave...”
Sam groaned. “Ten-Four.”
“Hey guys,” she said, thumping the trunk of the car, “you can’t really be doing that here, okay?”
Deeply interested in each other, they didn’t seem to notice her. Sighing, she moved to the driver’s side door, trying not to see inside. “Look, I hate to be a jerk about this,” she said, tapping on the window, “but my manager says you have to get out of here.”
After a moment, she swallowed her embarrassment and peeked into the car, curious if they were listening. The woman had her back to Sam, but she could sort of see the man. She found the little of his face that wasn’t buried in his partner's chestnut hair attractive. He was pale with dark features, and Sam couldn’t help but notice his skin was perfect,
like an airbrushed model’s. She’d read about smooth, alabaster skin, but she’d never seen it before. It was mesmerizing and seemed to glow in the florescent lighting.
Without warning, he looked up and her gaze met his. Sam’s blood ran cold. His eyes were black, like a shark's, and they focused on her in a way that made her body scream, run. He raised his head from lavishing the woman’s neck and shoulder with attention and blood seeped from his mouth.
Sam just stared, too shocked to think.
His face screwed up in an angry grimace and he pushed back into the passenger side door. It didn’t do a thing to stop him. The metal frame inside whined as it buckled outward, shattering the window. With a final, small effort, he popped the door off at the hinge and sent it flying about five feet. Sam jumped when it hit the concrete.
“What the fuck are you?” she asked, realizing she might be killed at any second.
He hissed at her like an angry, wild animal, putting his sharp, blood-stained teeth on display. Then, he turned and took off for the edge of the roof, faster than she’d ever seen anyone move. When he reached the low wall, he vaulted over like it was track and field day.
“Oh, shit,” she muttered, watching him fall out of view.
She stood there for a moment, stunned. Then, she remembered the woman in the car.
“Ma’am,” she said, looking inside. The woman had slumped over the passenger’s seat, her hair obscuring her face. “Ma’am, are you alive?” It was hard to discern if she was still breathing.
Sam touched her shoulder with a quivering hand and she seemed to spring back to life, throwing herself into a sitting position like she’d been caught sleeping in church. “Where is he?” she asked, looking around groggily. “And… what happened to my car?” Blood was dripping from two punctures in her throat, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Just one sec, ma’am,” said Sam, running toward the edge of the roof. “Try not to move. I’m going to have them call you an ambulance.”
“Okay, I guess...” she said, puzzled.
“Seven-One to HQ. Seven-One to HQ.”
“What’s going on, Seven-One?”
“Call an ambulance. I’ve got a lady whose hurt and I think we had a jumper.”
“’I’m going to need you to call the office.”
She put away the radio and took out her cell phone.
Sam had never seen a dead body before. Her heart was racing as she peered over the wall, into the alley below, dreading what she’d find there. But, there was no body. No guts, no blood, no sign of someone limping off with a pair of broken legs. Which was even worse. Goosebumps rose all over her skin.
“The fuck do we have now?” She muttered under her breath.
“You got a jumper, Sam? I’m on the phone with the dispatcher.”
“No, I thought I saw… I don’t know what I saw. I’ve got a woman bleeding in her car though. She’s on the roof, and she’s awake...”
“So, no jumper?”
“No, I don’t think so. I don’t see anybody.”
“You sure? I need an answer, Sam!”
“I’m… I seriously don’t know.”
Staring over the edge, cold sweat crept down her forehead. Something tickled the back of her neck, but when she whipped around, there was nothing there.
Available Fall, 2018
Click here to pre-order.
About the Author
D.S. Ritter is a budding author of horror, fantasy and science fiction stories. She currently lives in the jungle with her husband, two kids and a small zoo.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Chapter One