“Beautiful,” he muttered. It was a definite fixer-upper. However, it would pay itself off in a couple years, since land was so valuable and all. The only question was, did he really want to stay in this town for a couple years? There were plenty of perfectly normal towns in the surrounding vicinity that did not have a cloud of smog hanging overhead twenty-four hours a day.
Adam slipped inside the house. The front door stuck a bit when he entered, but it was nothing a new doorjamb couldn’t fix.
On the upside, the living room was fairly spacious. On the downside, it needed to be completely refinished. That meant new floorboards, new drywall, new insulation and new paint. First it needed to be covered in pesticides. There were roaches and spiders all over the place, plus some kind of large green insect he’d never seen before. One even appeared to have sixteen legs. How such a creature came to live in Stone Creek, Colorado, he’d never know.
“Hello? My name is Adam Pritchard and I’ve come to look at the house,” he called. There was no response. His voice echoed into silence. “Is there anyone home? Hello?”
Adam shuffled down the hallway, peering through the murky half-light. He opened a heavy wooden door and stopped. Albert hadn’t said anything about a basement. Maybe that meant he was in the wrong house. But then no one seemed to be home, so it didn’t matter if he poked around a little bit.
Climbing down the slimy cement steps, Adam could have sworn he felt dust settling on his skin. There was dust everywhere. It was on the walls, on the ceiling, and floating in the air. Even the cobwebs were covered with dust.
Adam reached the bottom step and looked around for a light switch. There wasn’t one, but there was an old oil lamp sitting on a pile of boxes. He lit a match and applied it to the old wick. At first he didn’t think it would work, but then it caught on and flared to life, casting a dull orange glow across the basement walls.
“Wow,” he muttered. There were stacks of shit all over the place. It looked like a pack-rat’s dream house. There were old writing desks here, broken windows there, and boxes of books everywhere between.
He bent over and picked up a particularly dusty tome. It was called The Town That Forgot How to Breathe. Creepy. But that wasn’t what made him jump with surprise. That wasn’t what made his hair stand on end and his knees quiver.
Over in the corner was a figure with wispy silver hair and duct tape over his mouth.
Adam scrambled across the basement, dodging little odds and ends along the way. The man appeared to be dead, but when Adam touched his shoulder, his eyes pulled open. They were huge and round, saturated with fear.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Adam urged. “I’m here to help you. Are you hurt?”
The man didn’t respond. He was probably in shock. Dried blood covered his neck and arms, congealing over his bare chest. A broken camera sat in his lap.
God, he was completely naked.
Adam tore the duct tape off his lips as gently as possible. Who would do such a thing? Who would tie up an old man in a frigid basement, without so much as a coat to keep him warm? Even serial killers had more sympathy than that.
The man gasped, drawing a series of deep breaths between his blue lips. He was surprisingly thin. He probably hadn’t eaten for days, maybe even weeks. The ribs on his side bulged through his ashen skin, and his heart trembled against his chest. Suddenly Adam could see where the blood was coming from. There was a hole bored into the man’s side, held open by two strands of electrical tape, and several cockroaches crawled in and out of his exposed stomach. The sight made Adam gag with disgust. He could feel vomit lurch into his throat.
“Oh my God,” he breathed. “You need a doctor. Can you walk?”
The man looked at him with uncomprehending eyes.
“I have a car out front. If you can walk, I can drive you to the nearest hospital.”
“No,” the man grimaced. “It’s too late. My time has come. You must… you must…”
“Must what?”
“You must leave without me. Quick. Before it’s too late.”
Adam shook his head. “No. I don’t understand. What will happen if I stay here?”
“They’ll find you,” the old man murmured. “They’ll find you… and they’ll do exactly what they did to the mayor.”
“What? What did they do to the mayor?”
Adam was talking faster now. He didn’t know how much time the man had left. Already his eyes were fluttering shut, and his heart beat sporadically beneath his pale flesh.
“They’ll… they’ll turn you into one of them. One of their experiments. They took the mayor because he knew too much… and they’ll take you, too, if you don’t leave.”
“No. I’m not leaving you.”
“You must, if you want to survive. Leave. Quickly.”
“But my son… he’s still at the motel…”
“What?” The man’s eyes suddenly became very large. “What did you just say?”
“I left my son at the motel with a man named Albert.”
“A man with no tie?”
“Yes.”
“Get back there as fast as you can. Before they take him to the factory. Before it’s too late…”
Adam’s mouth went dry. He didn’t know what to do. If the old man was right, and his son was in imminent danger, then he should leave right now. But he didn’t want to leave him all alone to die in this dingy basement. He had to do something, but before he could make up his mind the man’s lips fluttered open again and he screamed:
“Go! Now! Save your son!”
Then his eyes grew glassy and distant. His heart stopped palpitating against his chest.
He was dead.
Chapter 14
Adam didn’t waste any time leaving the house. He vaulted up the stairs and tore out through the front door, jamming the keys into the ignition as fast as he could. He cut himself during his exit, but he couldn’t remember exactly how. His heart was beating so fast it sounded like a Gatling gun in his ears.
Suddenly he wished he’d never heard of Stone Creek, Colorado. He wished that he was back in his cozy Chicago flat, drinking cocoa and watching Alex do his homework. If anything happened to his son, he could never forgive himself. He would rather die in a putrid old basement than face the reality of his son’s demise.
Adam felt like a man with one foot in the grave. It was pulling him down slowly and painfully; first his legs, then his chest, and then his arms, even though they were scrambling to free him. Then his neck, until his whole body was submerged in cold, wet soil.
Muttering a series of expletives under his breath, he stepped on the gas and shot down Willow Spring Drive. The minivan jostled and jolted over the uneven dirt road, but he didn’t slow down. If he was going to save his son, he had to hurry. He didn’t want him to turn into one of those… things.
Within fifteen minutes, Adam had reached the motel. It helped that there was no traffic in town. He could drive ninety miles per hour and not have to worry about getting pulled over or running a red light.
Now he knew what had happened to the town’s inhabitants. They were all dead. Or if they weren’t dead, they were lingering in the shadows, reduced to inhuman monsters— a fate possibly worse than death.
“Alex? Alex!” Adam darted into the decrepit motel. He ran down the hallway and through the kitchen, but his son was nowhere to be found. It was completely deserted. He was too late.
Adam collapsed to the floor, his head in his hands. Hot tears stung his eyes. He felt like tearing the motel apart, piece by piece, but deep down he knew that wouldn’t do any good. It wouldn’t help bring his son back. It would only make the pain worse.
Adam stopped. What had the old man said before he died? Something about the old factory? He couldn’t remember clearly. His head was spinning like a plane in a nosedive.
Shit. What had he said?
Adam gritted his teeth, trying to remember. His fingernails bit into his forehead, drawing little bloody half-circ
les in his flesh. He had to remember if he wanted to save his son.
Get back there as fast as you can. Before they take him to the factory.
That was it. They’d taken Alex to the factory.
Adam sprang to his feet. The factory was only a twenty minute drive away. He hoped twenty minutes would not be too late. He didn’t know what they would do to Alex once they got him there. Would they stick him in a cage so he couldn’t escape, or strap him to a table and start their experiments right away? He didn’t want to think about it.
“Hold on, Alex. I’m on my way.”
Adam took enough time to grab his nine millimeter from his suitcase and rushed outside. Only he wasn’t prepared for what he would encounter. Gathered around the motel, shambling up and down Main Street, were hundreds of gruesome, desiccated monsters. The sight reminded him of a low-budget 80s horror flick. The only difference was that these were human beings, not mindless zombies, although from the look of them they both shared the same lust for human flesh.
Adam broke for his minivan in a dead run. He could hear the creatures screaming, crying out through their bloody, broken throats. He thought that he could slip past them, and almost did, until a pair of particularly grisly creatures saw him. Their clothes were tattered and they seemed to be conjoined at the hip by a rippling mass of exposed muscle and bone. Blood spurted from severed arteries and veins as they dove after him, catching him by the ankle.
Adam felt a juicy, wet hand close around his leg. He tried to catch his balance, but it was no use. He fell hard, using his forearms to cushion the blow, but that only caused him to lose his grip on the nine millimeter.
Gravel pellets dug into his arms as the handgun skipped away, sliding beneath the minivan. Adam cursed, kicking at the creature behind him. He was lucky that it wasn’t very smart, or it might have gone after his sidearm.
“Let go, you son of a bitch,” Adam growled. He swung his free leg, making contact with the creature’s skull. Flesh and blood and brain matter showered from its head, eliciting a scream of pain that echoed into the dark morning sky. But he wasn’t free yet. Another wave of creatures closed on his position, moving as fast as their deformed legs would carry them.
Adam regained control of his handgun and spun around, squeezing off three rounds in quick succession. The first to fall was the double-headed creature that had grabbed his ankle. The bullets tore into its belly, releasing a jet of warm black liquid onto the sidewalk. The second was a creature with salt-and-pepper hair and a dirty apron around its waist. His shot took off the right side of its head, exposing a gooey gray interior that steamed like a cooked lobster.
“Take that, you swarthy bastard,” he roared.
The third creature to fall was a petite freak with wavy brown hair. Her leathery face—which might have been quite beautiful once—twisted into a mask of pain as she collapsed onto the blacktop. Her innards snaked out of her belly in a bloody heap, coiling between her knees.
Adam was just about to jump into the minivan when a heavy object clubbed him from behind. His head exploded in a burst of white pain, and he felt his knees hit the ground. There was blood in his mouth. A deep, bubbling laugh rumbled from an unseen throat.
“Welcome to hell, outlander,” it croaked.
Adam gritted his teeth. “You don’t know hell,” he growled, “until you’ve gone through a divorce.”
The creature didn’t know what was happening until it was too late. Adam spun around, sweeping its legs out from under it with a low kick, and jammed the handgun into its malformed mouth. He wondered if it could taste the metal barrel against its tongue for the split second before he pulled the trigger. Blood spattered up into his face.
That bought him enough time to jump into the minivan before more reinforcements arrived. He twisted the key in the ignition and listened to the motor growl to life. It was time to find out what it was made of.
Time for a bloodbath.
Adam threw the van into gear and stepped down on the accelerator. Hard. The wheels spun beneath him and then it lurched forward, tossing a deformed creature off the passenger side door. He piloted it straight down Main Street, despite the legion of creatures hurrying to block his escape.
“Come and get me, you bastards.”
Adam smiled and steered straight into the creature with the pink cowboy hat. The minivan lurched upon impact and a tidal wave of blood washed across the windshield. The act sent an excited chill down his spine. He didn’t think that killing another human being could feel this exhilarating, but then again, he’d never driven straight down Main Street, mowing down everything in his path.
Bang. Boom. Smack.
The minivan ploughed through the crowd of disfigured faces, leaving a trail of blood, brains, and broken bodies behind it. Suddenly Adam was glad she had insisted on buying a minivan. He couldn’t wreak this much damage with a little station wagon.
“You hungry? Good. Eat this.”
Adam threw open the driver’s-side door and listened to the satisfying thunk that accompanied his action. He was having so much fun that he’d forgotten why he was driving in the first place. Once his primal blood lust was satisfied and the reality of the situation kicked in however, he felt a wash of shame. What had happened to him? He needed to save his son, but instead he was sidetracked by cold-blooded killing.
Oh my god.
He was acting no differently than those inhuman monsters!
Chapter 15
Adam tore down Main Street, watching the decrepit buildings disappear in the rear view mirror. There went Lucky Lou’s Corner Store, Hanson’s Hardware, and a particularly deteriorated building that looked like an old laundromat. It might have been a grocery store. He couldn’t tell. The important thing was that he was past all the town’s twisted inhabitants. Their cries of rage and pain slowly slipped into silence.
Adam exhaled, possibly for the first time since he stepped out of the motel, and took a moment to reflect on the situation. He didn’t know what to expect when he reached the factory, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let those sick sons of bitches experiment on his son. He was willing to recruit ghost hunters, psychics, or who the fuck ever it took to get inside those cement walls.
Adam frowned. He could see the giant cone-shaped structure up ahead, spewing clouds of acrid black smoke into the atmosphere. It looked like a twisted version of Willie Wonka’s chocolate factory. But instead of producing lollypops and gum that turned little girls into blueberries, it produced chemical serums and drugs that turned men into mindless killing machines.
Adam started the windshield wipers. There was so much blood and brain matter pasted to the glass that he could barely see outside. The wipers didn’t do much good. They just smeared the gooey crimson fluid even more.
“Son of a bitch.”
Leaning out the window, Adam wiped at the blood with the palm of his hand. It still felt warm between his fingers, and he resisted the urge to retch on the steering wheel. He never knew that blood, the elixir of life, could be so revolting. Somehow feeling the blood drip down his palm made him remember how fragile human life really was. All it would have taken was a well-placed punch and he would have been down for the count.
Adam pressed down on the gas pedal. He didn’t have time to worry about what could have happened. Just like he didn’t have the time to worry about why Saundra left him. The present was what was really important. He couldn’t change the past, but by God, he could try to change the future.
“Hold on, Alex. Just a little longer.”
The minivan squealed to a stop about a hundred yards from the factory. The chain link fence surrounding it zigzagged over little hills and knolls like a jackrabbit on LSD. And behind it a thousand dead cornstalks stretched into the horizon, bent over as if bowing to a great and terrible god.
Fuck you, Cthulhu Mythos.
Adam bounded down the narrow dirt road, traveling just as fast as his legs would carry him. He was tired, but the adrenalin pulsing through
his veins kept him on his feet. It would have to if he didn’t want to be torn apart by those bloodthirsty beasts.
“Damn it.”
Security around the factory was tight. There were two teams that circled the perimeter, mean as hell and armed to the teeth. They wore white biological suits, whatever that meant. Adam strongly suspected that the toxic residue in the atmosphere had something to do with it.
Harmless, his ass. They could probably roast a superhero in that shit.
Adam waited until the two security teams were preoccupied, then he scaled the fence. It wasn’t too hard; he used to climb fences all the time as a kid. The only difference was that his feet didn’t fit between the links quite like they used to.
Adam threw himself against the cold cement factory.
Son of a bitch, it was moving!
The whole factory was vibrating, grumbling beneath his fingertips, as if it had a life of its own. The thought made him sick, but he could feel the life throbbing through its twisted metal core. He could feel the deranged heartbeat shiver through his ribcage.
Adam crept forward, hoping to remain under the radar. Except he was no ninja; a security camera looked down from above, watching him with an impassive eye.
“Hold it right there.”
Adam froze. He knew that he’d been caught. And that a nine millimeter would not protect him against two guards with fully automatic rifles.
“Drop the gun and put your hands behind your head.”
Adam complied. He felt a strong hand grasp his shoulder, and a gun barrel jab into his neck. They were both cold, but that wasn’t what sent a shiver down his spine. He was scared; scared to death that he had failed, that his son would die at the hands of a maniacal doctor.
Anthology of Ichor III: Gears of Damnation Page 14