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by Christopher Coleman


  Michael nodded again. “They took him from our house. Soldiers. Like you.”

  Danielle could see Dominic’s desire to plead his innocence, to explain more clearly that he was an imposter, there to help them. Instead, he just gave a solemn nod and said, “If he went with them quietly, calmly, without too much of a fight, they’ll have kept him alive for a while. How long’s it been?”

  “A few days.”

  “He won’t have much longer then.” Dominic gave Michael a stern look, as if he were a man his own age, and said, “We’ll do our best to find him, okay?”

  Michael took a breath, at least partially reassured. “Okay.”

  Danielle lifted her shoulders and expanded her chest. “Okay then, soldier, lead us out of this fucking place. I’ve still got a few things left on my To Do list.”

  5.

  The gate to the cordon was about fifty yards through the brush, on the North side of the tributary, directly below the guard tower which had been constructed just on the opposite side of the fence. Danielle, Michael, and Dominic waded through the shallow water and were now standing by the border of the enclosure, where a thick chain snaked through the gate and fence. A padlock hooked through the chain with the bolt swung to the unlocked position.

  Danielle reached for the gate to open it wide and Dominic grabbed her hand suddenly. She snapped her look to him and prepared a rebuke, but she could immediately see the color had drained from his face. “What is it?”

  “Look,” he said in a whisper, pointing to the edge of the gate.

  Danielle followed his finger but didn’t immediately register the problem; the giant gate was open slightly, less than a foot wide, leaving just enough room for a man to squeeze through.

  Or a crab, she thought, suddenly seeing the potential issue.

  “It’s open.”

  “You didn’t leave it like this? Are you sure?”

  Dominic nodded. “I’m sure. I closed it. I didn’t lock it, but I definitely closed it.

  “Maybe it just swung open on its own then.”

  Dominic shook off the possibility. “It didn’t. Look at the size of it. And the bottom of it wedges into the ground. You see?” He pointed to the thick bottom post of the gate that was at least three inches into the dirt. “Plus, it latches. Here.” He pointed to a lock set on the interior of the iron gate. There’s no way.”

  “So then one of the guards opened it? Is that what you’re saying?”

  He shook his head. “No. Nobody comes down here. Nobody’s ever been down here as far as I know. Not since the construction was completed. There’s never been a breach on this side of the cordon, and, until today, the corrupted almost never venture this far toward the perimeter. It’s the reason I wanted this post. I figured if you were still inside and looking to make an escape, you would have headed in this direction.”

  “Guess you were right there.”

  “Plus, since there is so little action down this way, they started using just the one tower. The south tower has been all but abandoned.”

  “Look!”

  Michael pointed to the muddy ground that led from the base of the gate and away from the cordon, off toward the freedom of northern Maripo County.

  There was no debating the soldier theory any longer.

  Footprints, dozens, maybe sixty or more, enough that they blended into a jumble of heel and toe indentations so as to be almost invisible, littered the ground. And with daylight quickly fading, the evidence was almost impossible to see with the naked eye, but as Dominic shined his flashlight to the forest floor, the markings were unmistakable. There was no question about it now: the crabs were out. If there had been a minor breach in the cordon before, it was now a full-scale jailbreak.

  “You’re probably gonna lose your job over this,” Danielle said flatly, instinctively trying to bring a bit of flippancy to the moment.

  “Probably,” Dominic replied, equally deadpan. And then he asked rhetorically, “Since when can they open doors?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  The three companions exited the cordon and walked until they were clear of the trees, and then continued to follow the footprints through the mud until they reached an open field of tall grass.

  Danielle was officially out of the cordon now, finally, and though she was far from safe, she took a deep breath, feeling like a paroled prisoner who’s just exited the last gated entrance of a penitentiary. As she exhaled, she stared out toward the horizon and the cluster of lights blazing from the spotlights and trucks and jeeps that signaled military occupation.

  “That’s where we gotta go?” Michael asked, following his new protector’s stare.

  “That’s where we gotta go,” Dominic replied. “And then over the bridge to the lab. If your dad is...well, that’s where your dad would be.”

  The lights were perhaps a mile in the distance, and Michael continued to study them for a few beats more. Finally, he asked, “How we gonna do that?”

  Dominic looked at Danielle now, tacitly passing the duty of explaining this quest to her.

  “Let’s start by turning off the flashlight,” she said. “No point highlighting the fact that we’re coming.” Danielle scanned the landscape for a moment. “And then we’ll just start walking. They’re working with a skeleton crew, right, Dom? So we’ll just see how far we can get before we have to take someone out.”

  “Take someone out?”

  Danielle shrugged.

  “You are right about the skeleton crew, though. I think we should be able to get pretty close. And since I’m supposed to be here, I’m not going to raise any eyebrows if I show up. We’re going to have figure out you two though, especially Michael. If they see the two of you, they’re going to detain you, no matter what I say.”

  “Then they won’t see us. We’ll stay low in the grass until you can clear out the area, and then—”

  “Clear out the area? How do you suppose I should do that?”

  “I don’t know, but I trust you can think of something. It’s just for a few minutes so we can clear the base and get to bridge. How’s the bridge for guards?”

  “Anything outside the cordon is technically unguarded, but there are soldiers milling around all the time.”

  “Then we should be able to get to the lab.”

  “You don’t even know where it is.”

  “How many buildings could there be past the bridge that could be a lab? Just give us a gap. We’ll find it.”

  Danielle was far less confident than her words suggested, but she knew Michael needed the hope. The truth was, she figured their prospects of making it past the camp and over the bridge at about one in ten, and finding and rescuing Scott, one in a hundred. Still though, she wouldn’t know for sure until they tried.

  Dominic nodded. “Okay. But like I said, the bigger issue is how fast we can do this. The next watch will be at the tower in less than an hour, so we need to get past the base and to the lab in under that. And then we have to free Michael’s father from wherever they’re holding him. And then find some type of vehicle that can take the four of us out of there to somewhere safe.”

  “That doesn’t sound too bad?”

  “Not if you’re John Wayne.”

  “At least it’s getting dark,” Michael said, finding the silver lining in the gargantuan task ahead of them. “That should help.”

  “I would have agreed with that three minutes ago,” Dominic said, “but now that we’ve—that I’ve—unleashed a plague of demons upon the world, I’m seeing the darkness as less of an advantage. And, can I add, they’re probably hearing us talk right now?”

  “Not that helpful, Dom.” Danielle sniped.

  “Let’s just walk,” Michael offered. “What choice is there now?”

  From the mouths of babes, Danielle thought, and then nodded in agreement. A moment later, the three companions took their first steps into the tall grass and toward the base.

  “If we walk quickly, I�
�m thinking we can reach the base in fifteen minutes.” Dominic’s voice came out low and distracted as he gave his estimate from his crouched position in the chest-high grass, which, on Michael, was nearly to his chin. Danielle could see Dominic from the corner of her eye, swiveling his head slowly from left to right, trying to spot whatever enemy might be waiting, approaching, and she noted how much like a soldier he now appeared.

  “I guess your days of blathering on about King Lear are over, huh?” she ribbed, her posture with the rifle a mirror image of Dominic’s. Despite the coolness of her remark, however, her adrenaline was racing.

  Danielle couldn’t see the smile from Dominic, but she could hear it in the former English professor’s voice. “That, they are,” he answered. “And your nights of serving country-fried steak to mummies is a thing of the past too, I guess.”

  Danielle couldn’t help but laugh aloud at the retort, and when the chuckle finally subsided, she replied, “Yes, soldier, those salad days are far behind me now.”

  The three continued to tread quickly through the stalk-like grass, with no one speaking a word for what was probably five minutes, and when Danielle finally looked back to the cordon barrier to judge how far they’d traveled, she saw a wispy sway in the grass, the tip of each blade glistening for a flash in the moonlight before passing the glimmer down the field.

  The sway in the field continued for several yards, and Danielle followed it with her eyes as it rippled west and then ultimately disappeared into the darkness.

  Just a breeze, she thought, that’s all. But the plunge in her stomach suggested the movement was more than the wind could have caused.

  And what breeze, exactly? The air was as tranquil as a prayer.

  Danielle decided to speak up. “Did anyone see that?”

  Michael stopped and turned, now facing in the same direction as Danielle. He moved in close to her, his right shoulder now pressing against her. “What? See what?”

  “I don’t know, I...” Danielle looked down at the frightened boy, his body now frozen in place, wedged to her sternum. “It’s okay. I just...it’s fine. It was just the wind.”

  “You saw the wind?”

  Danielle looked forward to Dominic, who had continued walking and was now several paces ahead, his focus still on the space in front of him. She swallowed and nodded at Michael. “It’s fine. Let’s go.”

  Danielle released her right hand from the rifle and held the gun by her side in her left. She then she took Michael by the hand and began to march, hurrying the pace by double.

  They had taken a dozen steps, maybe fewer, when Danielle suddenly felt a surge of fear begin building in her groin, rising through her stomach like a storm on the sea, barrelling through her chest before finally settling as a burning blush on her face. She kept her eyes straight though, her mind focused on Dominic and the ground ahead, but her attention was quickly redirected to Michael as he summoned her name in a whimper.

  “Danielle?”

  She looked down at the boy, but her eyes were instantly drawn to the ripple of grass approaching in the distance. It was a different version of the swell Danielle had seen earlier, larger, now undulating like an ocean wave as it rippled directly toward them.

  “Run!”

  But it was too late. Within three paces of their escape, Michael’s body disappeared into the night, the grip of his palm and fingers ripped away from Danielle’s as if he’d been sucked into the mouth of a tornado.

  Danielle was spun like a top by the wave, but she stayed on her feet. She looked down at her empty hand for an instant, disbelieving, and then she rotated her body methodically, making a full circle as she searched for Michael and the thing that had kidnapped him.

  But she could see only the unmoving blades of dark grass before her now.

  Michael was gone.

  “Michael!”

  She quickly put the rifle sight to her eye and flipped on the light, and then Danielle began walking frantically through the field, taking a few steps in one direction before turning and searching in another, trying to cover every inch of ground in front of her.

  “Dominic!” she called over her shoulder. “It’s Michael!”

  But Dominic was already beside her, and within seconds, he pointed to a spot about fifty feet to the left. “Look.”

  Danielle followed Dominic’s finger but could see nothing. “Where? Do you see him?” She was now on the verge of tears.

  “No, not Michael, but the crabs are there. I can tell by the sway. There are at least a few of them.”

  “We have to find him Dominic!”

  “How did he—”

  “Danielle!”

  It was Michael, and he sounded close, maybe fifteen yards in front of her now.

  Danielle walked quickly but cautiously toward the sound of his voice. “Again, Michael! Call out again!”

  “I’m here.”

  Michael’s second call was calmer, and now came from a spot just to Danielle’s left.

  She turned slowly and shined the light into the grass, and there, sitting upright and slightly forward as if listening to a campfire story, was Michael. The arms of two ghosts were draped around his head and neck, and they were stroking his head and face slowly, as if trying to soothe a baby to sleep.

  But their attention was on Danielle now, the beasts staring at her with eyes that were blank and expressionless, and yet somehow taunting.

  A tear hung impossibly beneath both of Michael’s eyes, which were now pleading orbs of desperation. “They’re....they’re touching me,” he said. “Am I going to die now?”

  Danielle’s throat felt like she’d swallowed a golf ball, but she quickly released the lump to her chest and shook her head in a shiver. “No, Michael. It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re...you’re not cut, are you?”

  Michael shook his head, the tears that were dangling from his cheeks now raining down to the ground below. “I don’t think so.”

  Danielle nodded and smiled weakly and then raised the rifle, aiming between the eyes of the crab to her left. “Just don’t move, Michael. Just stay as still as you are right now.”

  “Danielle!” It was Dominic, his voice a screaming whisper. He softened his speech. “You can’t fire. Not like this.”

  “I don’t give a damn if they hear!” she snapped. “We’ll figure out another way.”

  Danielle wrapped the inside of her top knuckle around the trigger and crooked her neck as she stared through the sight.”

  “It’s not that. You can’t get them both with one shot. The second you hit one, the other one might rip him to shreds.”

  Danielle was on the verge of panic now, her voice shimmying. “Why aren’t they doing it now?”

  “I don’t know. These new ones, the ones that survived the melting, they’re more erratic than their ancestors. Sometimes violent, sometimes calculating. And it could be they’re changing again. I mean, it looks like they’re holding him...I don’t know, hostage?”

  “What?”

  “Maybe that’s not the right word, but something is happening. They figured out how to work the gate. They could never do that before. Maybe they’re getting smarter. So maybe they figure you won’t shoot if they have Michael in their clutches.”

  “Well, they’re damn wrong about that.”

  Dominic lifted his rifle and took the same stance as Danielle, and being left-handed, he was facing her in a mirror image. “Let’s make it one shot then. We’ll take them both out at the same time. That way they won’t have time to react. And one shot will be easier to explain when I get to camp. Bonus.”

  “Okay,” Danielle agreed. And then, “I guess they’re not that smart, huh?”

  “Not smarter than a junior college professor who blathers on about King Lear, that’s for sure. Which one you got?”

  With her eye still to the sight, Danielle replied, “The one on your side.”

  “Got it. So I’ve got the handsome devil to my left. And Danielle?”

  �
��What?”

  “Please don’t hit my bullet.”

  The notion of the criss-crossing rounds colliding in mid-air was a funny one, but Danielle felt no desire to laugh. She had the craving of an executioner now, poised to take the shot of her life. “I won’t,” she said.

  “On three?”

  “Sure.”

  “Don’t move, kid,” Dominic said, but Michael was already immobilized with fear. Then, as if tallying ducks on a pond, Dominic counted, “One...two...three.”

  6.

  Danielle heard only one report from the rifles—a thunderous, deafening noise—but the sight of both crabs careening backwards and causing an explosion of dirt around them meant she and Dominic had been perfectly synchronized with their shots.

  She lowered the gun for a moment and stared like a mad woman at the scene, and then she lifted it again and pointed the light of her rifle at the crab in front of her. That one was Dominic’s shot, and she could see the glistening of its eyes as the blood from the quarter-sized wound poured down the center of its face.

  Her shot, which had struck the crab on her right, was still moving, struggling like a netted fish, and as she moved into the space to clear Michael away and check him for injuries (God help them he wasn’t cut), she could see the extensive damage her bullet had done to the thing’s chest.

  Michael had yet to move since the blast, and he was now sitting with his eyes closed, holding his knees as he rocked slightly from front to back.

  “Let’s go, Michael,” Danielle said calmly, moving her hand to give a stroke of comfort to his head. She paused, however, imagining the hands of the crabs upon his face, figuring a touch like that from her could trigger the boy to panic. Instead, she put her hand under his left armpit and lifted, encouraging him to his feet.

  Dominic had also moved into the kill space, but he was now standing over the fallen crab, the one not yet dead, and without a word, he pulled a large blade from his bag and stooped down by the monster. Danielle turned away, but she could hear the grotesque slice of the knife as it glided through the white skin of the beast, and she quickly spun Michael and escorted him away, back to the spot where she had fired the rifle.

 

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