“I see the road!” she said, running for it, pushing for all she was worth. Just as she stepped out of the treeline onto a cracked, long-neglected forest road, something large jumped past her and landed right in her trajectory. It bent its head low and bared its teeth, flicked a tongue out real fast, and growled.
Walking backwards, Doug brushed up against her, monitoring whatever was behind them.
“It ain’t a bear,” Doug said.
Amanita didn’t think her heart could race any more than it already was, but what sat before her kicked it into overdrive. “I know,” she said, doing her best to remain still. She said the only word they were both thinking. “Wolf.”
“Wolves,” Doug corrected, as two more of the massive gray and white canines emerged from the woods on long legs and stood in the road. A wolf puppy followed its mother out, sat between her legs and let out a high-pitched howl. In any other circumstance Amanita would call it adorable, post about it on a social media site, but right now it was anything but. That pup was a killer in training.
“What do we do?” Amanita whispered.
Doug cleared his throat. “Hey there, doggie,” he said, doing his best to address the animals calmly. They were still spilling out the the forest, at least ten of them forming a circle around them. “Good, puppy. Good, dogs. We’re just gonna head on down this road now, okay. We don’t want no trouble. We’re just gonna be on our way. Who’s a good doggie, huh? Who’s a good poop?”
“Poop?”
“Nickname for a dog I had growing up.”
“I’m still not convinced boys grow up?”
“C’mon, doggie, it’s okay. We’re just gonna—”
One of the wolves growled at him. Saliva dripped from its fangs.
“They’re not moving, Doug. They’re in a pack. Even I know what that means and I barely passed science class. They’re hunting.”
Doug swallowed. “That they are. But that don’t mean they aren’t afraid of us.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m barely one hundred pounds and five-foot-three. I’m smaller than they are. Maybe you should make yourself big, try to scare them. Isn’t that what you do with bears?”
“I grew up in a big city, darling. I don’t know from bears.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s try this. Rah!” Doug threw his hands in the air and roared like an angry monster from a bad horror movie. The wolves went low, ready to pounce, teeth bared, but none of them attacked. Doug put his arms down. “Okay, they’re not afraid.”
“That almost made them jump. Don’t do that again.”
“It was your idea.”
“You’re the adult. Don’t listen to me!”
“Well, I’m sorry. Jeez. Women.”
“Boys.”
The wolves pressed tighter. Amanita squeezed closer to Doug. “Just do something. Throw them a stick to chase or something.”
“Okay, new plan.” Doug edged toward a large male wolf in front of him. Its incisors were as long as his fingers. As he moved he cooed to the animal, doing his best to sound less threatening. The wolf lunged and snapped at Doug’s hand. He jumped back and screamed and the wolf backed up again.
“Bastard tried to to bite me.”
Amanita noticed the way the wolf had retreated at the sound of Doug’s voice. If there was one thing she knew she was good at, it was hitting a high register while singing. Nicole used to say she rivaled Mandy Alvarez, the Disney start who went on to become addicted to heroin and ended up biting the head off a bat on stage while high on PCP, before going into rehab and dropping off the face of the planet. But she was still famous for her high-pitched squeal in her songs and Amanita could hit them. And dogs, which was essentially what were were, also hated it.
She sucked in a lungful of air and let loose. The wolves immediately backed up (as did Doug). A few of the females began to howl in accompaniment, and the puppies ran back toward the woods. The large males snapped and growled but eventually laid down on their bellies and put their heads down.
When Amanita stopped, Doug took his hands from his ears. “Damn, girl, you almost made my brain melt.”
“My one and only talent. Look, they look like they’re sleeping.”
“They ain’t sleeping, they’re bowing down to the shrieking demon in your mouth.”
“Very funny.”
“Just kidding, darling. They look like they’re giving in thoug.” For the second time he moved toward one of the big males.
Amanita grabbed his arm. “What’re you nuts? Let’s just inch outta here. They look like they’re gonna leave us alone.”
“Hang on. I had a dog once.”
“And you called him poop. I don’t know you’re the dog expert you think you are.”
“I know this look. They feel admonished and they want some reassurance.”
“Screw that! They’re wild. They were gonna eat us.”
Doug ignored her and bent down slowly, putting his hand on top of a large gray wolf’s head. “He’s so big. Look at him.”
“Stop touching him. Let’s get outta here.”
Steadily, slowly, Doug ran his hand back and forth over the wolf’s head, then pet it down the back of its neck. “Good boy,” he whispered. Tentatively the wolf turned its head and licked Doug’s hand. “Well, shit, ain’t that something.”
Scowling, Amanita looked at the wolves around her. “Yeah, fuck it,” she said, “why not at this point.” She reached out and pet their heads. They seemed more timid around her, no doubt marking her as the source of the noise that hurt their ears. “They are cute when they’re not eyeing you like a steak. But I’m still freaked out. Can we go?”
Doug stood up, wiped wolf fur off his hands onto his pants. “Yeah. Okay. But move slow. We still don’t know that they might not change their minds.”
But before they began to move, the all-too-familiar slap slap slap of feet running on pavement came at them, and Amanita saw the hissers’ silhouettes in the middle of the road some hundred yards away. “Shit. They heard me me scream.”
All around them, the wolves rose to their feet. The largest male growled and the others in the pack followed suit.
“Yeah, but these dogs hear them. And they smell like meat.” Doug pet the large wolf on the head once more, then took Amanita’s hand. “C’mon, we’re gonna run down the road and pray that van I stole is there. And if not, we’ll keep running.”
“No, they’ll catch us.” She was on the verge of tears.
“Maybe, but right now…this ain’t our fight.” He pushed her in front of him to get her running. Together they ran as fast as they could down the road. Behind them, the majestic collective battle cry of the wolves filled the air. Amanita said a silent prayer for their souls, and thanked them for buying them time to escape.
FRIDAY, 10:13
She stood as silent and solemn as someone about to give a eulogy, her lips trembling, the rifle almost forgotten in her hand. Before her, the undead thing that used to be her mother snarled like something lost and rabid. She could see it had her mother’s eyes, but the light that had once been behind them was replaced by a vacant blackness that showed nothing but evil intent. The creature cocked its head and drooled blood.
“Olive,” Connor said, now raising his gun and aiming at the head of the thing.
Beside him, face slack, she ignored his words. “I’m sorry, Mom,” she said. “I didn’t know it was gonna get this bad this fast. Oh God I’m sorry.”
“Olive, we gotta go. It’s not your mom anymore. It’s not anything. It’ll kill us if we stay, and I know this sounds harsh, but trust me, if we don’t go and it attacks, I’m putting it down.”
Without so much as a glance at Connor, Olive nodded her understanding. She raised her rifle and pointed it at her mother. “Okay, go to the car. I’ll be right there.”
“Olive—”
“I said go, kid. I’m saying goodbye.”
Connor took a step, waiting for the creature to rush him. It didn’t, but only be
cause he could now see that one of its legs was on backwards and it was having a hard time maneuvering forward. He made it to the side of the house, peeked around and espied the street. It was still pitch black and desolate but that didn’t mean it wasn’t one big booby trap waiting to spring on him, so he moved cautiously past the hedges, keeping his eyes alert. When he made it to the car, Olive’s gunshot rang out and sent shivers up his spine.
Inside the car, he saw the keys in the ignition. He knew he could drive it, having driven all over Castor just a couple weeks ago. Had it been that long? He couldn’t be sure. Didn’t matter. He got in the passenger side and prayed for Olive to hurry.
It was only seconds before she appeared, walking like someone had drained the life out of her, her gun aimed down at her feet. She reached the car and got inside, put her head on the steering wheel.
“We should get back on the highway,” Connor suggested. “Maybe try to find some place to sleep tonight that’s fortified. Assuming you don’t want to stay here now. Maybe we’ll pass more cars even, and get some news.”
Olive began to cry, and turned her face out the side window.
Understanding her pain was one thing, Connor knew, but sitting here with the car turned off, with the report of that rifle still echoing through the neighborhood, was making him want to yell. Finally, she turned back to the windshield, wiped her tears, and started the car.
“Wasn’t your Mom,” Connor said, trying to both reassure her, bring her back to earth.
“I know, kid. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to talk about any of this. Not my mother, not the fucking monsters, not my life… I just want to sleep right now.”
With that, she started the car and began a three-point turn in the middle of the street. As she threw it in drive again, Connor saw what he had feared just moments ago. Hissers were beginning to saunter out into the road from various houses. And there, now in the middle of the front lawn of Olive’s mom’s house, was Olive’s mom. She wasn’t dead, despite the large red hole in her head.
“You missed her,” Connor said.
Olive stopped the car. “No I didn’t.”
“Then why is she moving?”
“Stop asking so many fucking questions! I shot her!”
The force and anger of her words almost pushed Connor back through the seat. Olive was losing it, and it was scaring the shit out of him. On the lawn, Olive’s mom was almost at the curb, dragging herself into the street. From all sides of the car, hissers were now beginning to see there was fresh meat in their neighborhood. Two of them started running.
“Start the car,” Connor said.
“In a second.” Olive opened her door and got out, grabbed her gun, and walked to her mother.
“Shit.” Sweat beaded on Connor’s head as he leaned out the window, remember he was down to his last bullets, and took aim at one of the running hissers. C’mon c’mon c’mon, he prayed. Just get back in the car. In the street, Olive put the barrel of her rifle against her mother’s forehead, said, “Just go to sleep this time, Mom,” and pulled the trigger. Pink and gray brains exploded out the back of the dead woman’s head and her body collapsed.
“Now!” Connor yelled, tracking the closest hisser. It was running right for Olive and he knew there was no way he could get it with one bullet. Thankfully, Olive saw it too, and raised her rifle and fired. The hisser’s face bloomed with red and white bone and fell down. But it may as well have been a lunch bell ringing; the other hissers were making for the car.
Sprinting, Olive got back inside and hit the gas. The car lurched forward over her mother’s dead body, throwing Connor up to the roof and down again. Two hissers bounced off either side of the car, both spinning off in to the street. Just as Connor thought they had gotten away, the street in front of them erupted in a mob of demons. Three hulking monstrosities lumbered along behind them.
“No no no,” Olive said, slamming on the brakes. “Not these.”
It was the spider monsters, and they were running for all they were worth, trampling the humanoid undead in front of them. Connor spun and looked out the back window. There were hissers behind them now as well.
“Go through them,” he said. “Drive fast.”
“We won’t get through the bigger ones.”
“Then back up.”
“It goes down to a cul de sac.”
“What?”
“The street, it dead ends about ten houses down.”
Connor shook his head in disbelief. “What, there aren’t side streets?”
“Ahead of us, yes. Not behind us.”
“What’s behind the cul de sac?”
“Um…just woods. Wait! And a river. Used to go swimming in it.”
The first of the spider monsters reached the car, its hulking mass of heads and legs going for the bumper. Olive screamed and threw it in reverse, the tries screeching as they flew backwards. Connor felt something hit the trunk and go under the car, and in front of him he saw two hissers mashed in the street, including Olive’s mom’s body, which they’d apparently run over a second time now.
“Go faster!” he yelled.
“I’m trying!”
The car began to fishtail. Olive fought to keep it under control, ultimately steering toward the curb and scraping the hubcaps in a hail of sparks. In front of them the three spider monsters came on fast, running on legs made of all sorts of body parts. One massive spider leg, comprised of torsos and arms, smashed down into the hood of the car and flipped the back tires up off the road before they caught again and the car lurched backwards. The spider was knocked aside by one of its brethren and together they stumbled into the third, all three of them now enacting some kind of Stooges routine where they all tumbled to the ground. It was just enough time for the car to drive backwards up a driveway in the cul de sac and hit the garage door of a two story ranch ouse, slamming Connor’s head back into the headrest.
“Out. Go,” Olive said, now back in survival mode; she spoke with a renewed sense of clarity.
Connor was out of the car in an instant, reaching back and grabbing one backpack full of supplies. On the other side, Olive was out of the car and loading new bullets into her rifle. She slammed the stock home and fired at the spiders, which were still righting themselves in the street. Then she was rounding the car and grabbing Connor’s shoulder, pulling him around the house and into the darkened backyard. The moon peeked out from the clouds just long enough for them to skirt the kiddie pool and toys scattered on the grass.
“This way,” Olive said, leading them down the sloping yard toward a chain link fence. Beyond the fence Connor could hear the steady gurgle of running water. “It comes down from the mountains and runs out to a lake. There’s a dock back here. People keep rowboats and shit tied up.”
From up at the house came the sounds of massive creatures smashing windows and breaking walls. The beasts must be breaking into the house, Connor thought, assuming their prey had gone to ground.
Without a second thought, Connor threw his backpack over the fence and scaled it, landing hard on the other side. His shin protested, a reminder that his wound still wasn’t one hundred percent. Olive hit the ground next him with an oof. There was a sound like an explosion as the spider monsters broke through the back wall of the house and raced for the fence.
“Shit. Run!” Olive said.
Connor followed her through thick trees, down a muddy grade, hearing the rush of the water get louder. He slipped once, his back wrenching, then picked himself up and continued on. He could hear the creatures behind him tearing down the chain link fence.
“I see the dock.” Olive’s voice was full of hope. “Please let there be a motor boat.”
But there wasn’t. When they broke out of the scrub grass and pussy willows, onto the small man-made dock, all they saw were a couple of rowboats. The river was narrow here, maybe fifteen feet across to the other side. The water was black like oil in the night, the moonlight shimmering on its surface lik
e tiny jewels. A current caused it to lap at the sides of the riverbank, though how fast it was actually moving was hard to tell in the darkness.
“Help me get it out,” Olive said, shoving a red, plastic rowboat to the edge of the dock.
Connor helped her push and within seconds it fell in the water and began to drift off. He reached in and caught hold of a mooring rope that someone had tied on it. It threatened to pull him in before he was able to pull the boat back a couple feet. Once it was flush with the dock, Olive leapt in, held the boat steady against the dock post until Connor could climb in.
“Psuh!” Connor shouted, and Olive shoved off the dock just as the spider monsters came crashing out of grass. The boat caught the current and began to drift. The hissers scuttled down the dock and scanned the environment, spotted the rowboat and walked into the water.
They sank out of sight.
“How deep is it?” Connor asked.
Olive shook her head as she grabbed one of the oars lying in the bottom of the boat. “I don’t know. Deep enough, let’s hope. Deep enough to drown the fucking things.”
“Can’t drown what’s already dead.”
For the next several seconds the boat moved lazily down through the black water. Darkness engulfed them as the backyards of houses gave way to nothing but woods on either side of them. Looming trees curved in overhead like a tunnel, and soon the moonlight was unable penetrate it. Crickets chirped and bugs buzzed and the water gurgled, and after a few more minutes, something else became audible. Something closing in on them.
“I see something,” said Connor. “Over there. See?”
“Oh my God.”
There were three low silhouettes. The tops of the spider monsters were visible just above the water. They were walking as fast as they could on the muddy bottom of the river, which seemed to be getting shallower with every step. Their bodies were rising slowly out of the water.
Connor picked up the other oar and looked at Olive in the darkness of the woods and winding river. “It’s not deep enough.”
Hissers II: Death March Page 12