The Bloodspawn

by Michael McBride

  Whirling, Matt grabbed at his suddenly throbbing jaw just as Brian slammed into him, clearing him off of the floor and slamming him into the wall, which caved in from the pressure. Dust filled the air and the shattered drywall crumbled in chunks to the floor. His hat fell from his head as Matt tumbled to the ground, slumping over the chalky mess of wall. Batting his eyes, Matt rolled forward onto his hands and knees, crawling painfully across the floor of the kitchen toward the bedroom.

  “Don’t screw me out of my turn,” he heard Jeremy shout, scrambling off of Scott and racing at him in the dark kitchen.

  One after another, they kicked him, their hard feet slamming into his exposed ribs and stomach. Yet stoill, he crawled across the floor. Blood burst in spurts from his mouth each time one of the blows knocked the air from his lungs, his broken and jagged ribs tearing at the thin, tissue paper-like membranes of his lungs.

  Matt’s eyes fixed on the small clearing in the center of the carpeting of bees that he had made earlier, focusing on the handful of small lumps that lined the edge, knowing that salvation was buried beneath.

  The stingers lanced into the flesh on his hands as he scooted further into the room, kicking feet hammering into him from all sides. The pain resonated from every available inch of flesh, tearing like lightening bolts through the tissue beneath, forcing Matt to retreat into his mind while his body began the initial steps toward shut down. His vision began to narrow, tunneling to the point where all he could see were the small lumps beneath the gold and black carcasses. His whole body grew warm, the pain fading to dull pressure, every vessel pumping blood that felt as though it were boiling.

  Reaching out, Matt placed his fingers right atop the handles of the knives, the blades catching the slight glare from the window. His heart leapt in his chest. Forcing a smile, the blood spilling in lines over his swelling lips, his head lolling as though he were drunk, Matt chuckled in preparation of sliding his hand around the handle.

  Suddenly, he was jerked up from the floor, the blade falling away from his hand as his trembling fingers reached frantically for it. There was pressure across his chest, his collapsed ribcage coming through his skin, the white, fragmented ends jutting forth like small volcanoes, blood flowing in streams from them like lava.

  “Back the fuck off!” Scott shouted as he dragged Matt backward through the kitchen and into the main room. “This is bullshit and you all know it!”

  “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Shane shouted, his chin jutting forth. “Only one way to find out…”

  “Give it a rest,” Jeremy said, resting his hand on Shane’s shoulder. “We accomplished what we needed to tonight. Just let them go.”

  “No fucking way, man!” Shane shouted, his eyes afire. “There’s no way that they’re leaving until I say so.”

  Shaking off Jeremy’s arm, he stormed toward the front door. Scott and Matt were already down the steps at the end of the porch, and crossing the snow-blanketed lawn to the Escort. Yanking his keys from his pocket, Scott opened the passenger door, and lowered Matt onto the seat, lifting his legs onto the floorboard. Slamming the door, he raced around to the passenger side, throwing wide the door and climbing in. Jamming the key into the ignition, the engine roared to life and Scott slammed the stick into reverse. The tires slid from side to side as they fought for traction before finally catching. With a lurch, the car launched into reverse, sliding across the road. Shoving the gear into drive, the tires screamed as they wore through the ice to the asphalt below.

  “Toss me your keys!” Shane shouted, sprinting toward the Maverick.

  Jeremy just stared at him.

  “Now!” Shane screamed, glaring back as he yanked ferociously on the door handle.

  “Dude…” Jeremy mumbled.

  “Now! Goddamn it! Now!”

  Jeremy fished the keys out of the front pocket of his jeans and tossed them to Shane, who immediately hopped into the car and revved the engine, just as the Escort finally began to move forward on the slick road.

  The Maverick’s headlights burst to life, illuminating the front of the house in two large circles. The car soared backward, fishtailing from side to side before locking into drive and tearing down the icy road after the Escort.

  “Are you all right?” Scott asked, focused intently on the thin lines of light that barely permeated the densely falling snow.

  Matt just groaned. A swell of blood washed over his swollen lower lip, falling onto his already soaked shirt. The trees to either side of the road fell past like two darkened walls, racing straight at them as the road bent and twisted through the sloping hills. The Maverick soared up behind them, hanging right on their bumper moments after they passed though the field and into the forest.

  “Jesus,” Scott whispered, his breath only barely able to slip from his tightening lungs. His heart pounded loudly inside his ears from his hammering temples, his fingers trembling on the wheel. He tried with all his might to see enough of the road in front of him to keep from sliding off into the trees.

  There was nothing visible of the road other than the barely noticeable tracks from where they had driven in, now already filling in with fresh snow. Enormous flakes filled the lights, racing at them like stars in the night sky moving through hyperspace. All Scott could do was just watch the far reaches of the lights and hope he would be able to turn the car in time.

  The lights from the Maverick filled the rear view mirrors, the brights shining painfully in Scott’s eyes as the car swerved from side to side behind them, hoping to gain the advantage on one of the curves.

  Something leapt out into the road in front of them. A large, dark shape, nearly the size of the car, bounded into the middle of the road. It stood there, frozen, its circular eyes glowing gold, reflecting the headlights.

  “Shit!” Scott gasped, his teeth clenching. He tapped the brakes repeatedly, hoping to gain enough traction to stop the car.

  The front end kicked to the right with a jolt, the Maverick nailing the back left portion of the rear bumper.

  A scream froze in Scott’s lungs; the air growing stagnant. He fought with the wheel, trying to turn into the skid which was gaining momentum with each passing second. The road disappeared in front of them, replaced by the line of trees that had once been to their side. His arms locked straight out in front of him and his clenched fists clung to the steering wheel for dear life. The tires began to skip off the road as they were now traveling sideways, bouncing toward the shoulder of the road.

  Scott could see the Maverick now; sliding from side to side, racing directly at them, only a few feet from a head on collision. There was a flash of lights as the passenger side tires caught the lip of the shoulder, and the sudden feeling of weightlessness. The Escort went airborne, flipping, tires rising to the night sky.

  Darkened bushes and snow-mounded grass filled their view, tumbling like a barrel, until they appeared to be falling straight down from the sky. Forcing his eyelids shut, Scott threw his arms up in front of his face just as the side of the car slammed into the wall of trees, tearing through the brittle, age-old trunks as though they were made of mere plywood. The sound of shattering wood and shredding metal filled the night, echoing within the shell of the car as it ripped through the first line of trees and into the second. The car windows imploded, showering Scott and Matt with tiny balls of glass, which bounced all over their bodies before being tossed from the rolling vehicle.

  Their wheels landed on the ground once again, the rubber tires bouncing with the impact against the frozen earth, catapulting them back into their flip with even more momentum. The cloud-strangled sky flashed by, over and over, the car rolling through the underbrush as though it didn’t exist. Scrub oak and sage were ripped from the ground by the roots, catching in the warped undercarriage before being tossed straight up in the air.

  The roof of the car crumpled visibly each time the car bounced upon it. The shrubbery opened into a large field, an enormous snow-filled circle right in the middle of th
e forest. A thin stream, frozen for the season, and buried beneath the even white mat of snow, grabbed at the tires, catching them. The car launched straight into the air one final time before coming to a halt on the roof, right in the middle of the field.

  Scott opened his eyes, frantically scanning the area. He could barely see out of the car as the roof had been lowered nearly to the level of the bottom of the windows. The masses of snow rapidly melted away from the car as it vented heat in all directions, thick black smoke pouring from the engine, the hood buried beneath the snow some ten yards away.

  Tugging at the buckle of his seat belt, Scott finally snapped it. The belt disengaged and he slumped down on his shoulders, trying to pull his legs down from beneath the crumpled dashboard. He began to hyperventilate, his eyeballs rolling back into his skull as he fought with everything that he could muster to keep them fixed on the shimmering snow outside the thin crack where the window had been.

  From the corner of his eye, he could see Matt, dangling upside down from his restraining harness. The backs of his hands lay limply on the roof of the car, his mouth hanging slack. Blood flowed through his nostrils and over the tip of his rose, dripping like a leaking faucet between his hands. His eyes were closed, and his tongue was pressed out of his mouth just enough to give him the appearance of being dead, but his chest rose and fell just enough to give him away.

  “Matt?” Scott sputtered, using the steering wheel as leverage to tug his legs from the pedals and roll into a ball. “Are you… ugh, all right?”

  The only response was a thin, wheezing sound that bubbled up through his blood-lodged mouth.

  “I’ll get you out of here,” Scott shouted, grabbing Matt by the chin and shaking it a little, trying to snap him back to consciousness.

  Somehow, in those cramped quarters, Scott managed to turn himself around, lying flat on his stomach on the roof of the car. Turning his head sideways, he pressed it through the crumpled window, the tattered metal snagging at his jacket. He slipped his arms through, just past his head, trying to grab onto something out there, anything he could use for leverage to pull himself free of the wreckage.

  There was a loud cracking sound. It emanated from right beneath him and seemed to spread in all directions like an earthquake. The roof of the car sunk into the ground a good half inch.

  His breath caught in his chest, Scott tried to wriggle very slowly, the whole time staring at the carpet of snow at the edge of the meadow, watching as it moved a little bit with each exertion.

  Footsteps tore through the underbrush to his left, but he couldn’t move his head to see who was coming. His shoulders were out of the vehicle now, and if he could just find something to grab onto, he could pull his entire body free.

  “Stop struggling!” a voice shouted, a light crunching sound echoing through the field as the man raced across the snow-crusted field.

  Cold, gloved hands grabbed Scott’s wrists, pinching tightly. The man, awash in darkness, pulled him from the wreckage. His shoes caught on the crumpled window, but the man gave him one final tug, sliding him out and into the snow.

  “In the car…” Scott wheezed, “…my friend.”

  The man, his black shadow silhouetted against the darkened sky, walked carefully around to the other side of the car, slowly approaching the passenger side door. Scott pushed himself up onto all fours and began to breathe heavily, fighting for the strength to clamber to his feet. Stumbling, he shook the cobwebs from his head, wandering around the hood of the car to where the man knelt by the crumpled window.

  “Get back!” the man shouted, startled by Scott’s approach.

  The ground beneath them gave with a loud crack, falling uneasily beneath their feet.

  Scott fell to his knees, scrambling to the side of the car where the man worked desperately to pry Matt from within.

  “You need to get away from here!” the man yelled, shoving Scott in the middle of his chest, knocking him onto his back atop the snow, which slid beneath the collar of his jacket, packing against the back of his neck. “The weight is too much… any change in pressure and the whole thing is going to give.”

  “What?” Scott said, scooting beside the man and reaching his hand into the vehicle to disengage the latch on the seat belt.

  The man grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him closer so that their faces were only inches apart. He was older, perhaps in his forties, his hair only slightly graying. His eyes were wide and wild, unblinking. Fear wore through his face, his hands trembling as he clutched Scott’s jacket.

  “Below us…” the man said, pausing momentarily to catch his breath. “We’re on a lake.”

  There was another crack and the ground gave another quarter inch.

  Scott’s eyes locked on the man’s, a sudden sense of awareness washing over him. Determination rose in his veins. He broke free of the man’s grip and lay on his belly, reaching up into the car. Sliding further, he craned his head sideways, slipping it into the car. Reaching up with his left arm, he unfastened the seat belt. Matt fell straight down on him, pinning him against the roof of the car beneath his weight.

  The ground beneath them cracked again, this time fragmenting beneath the weight of the car. Scott wrenched his back trying to move out from beneath Matt in an attempt to regain the use of his arms. Through the crack in the metal where the driver’s side window had been, Scott could see the frigid, black waters rising over the roof of the car, spilling directly toward him.

  The sound of a barking dog filled the night.

  Scott felt pressure on his ankles, yanking him backward out of the car. Matt fell off of him, landing on his side with a splash into the rapidly rising water, his body lying limply with the black fluid swelling around him.

  Scott’s grabbed at Matt, trying to latch onto anything. Finally, his fingers slipped through the belt loop of his jeans, closing tightly around the thin, denim strap.

  The man still had him by the legs and was pulling him backward, out of the car, the metal from the car digging painfully into his lower back. The freezing water soaked through the arms of his jacket, rising nearly to his face as the car slipped further beneath the surface of the ice.

  The flashing lights on the dashboard reflected from flat surface of the water, filling the interior of the car with light, but only for a moment as the circuits shorted out with a crackle, leaving them in complete darkness. The tugging on his legs was growing more frantic with each passing second and it was all Scott could do to cling to Matt’s pants.

  The water nipped at his chin now, biting through the exposed flesh and into the solid bone beneath. Craning his neck back, he spat furiously as the water rose up over his lips, threatening to fill his lungs.

  Fighting for every inhalation, he coughed out a thin spray of water, yanking as hard as he possibly could on Matt’s jeans, knowing that if they weren’t both out of there really soon that it was going to be all over.

  Taking one last, enormous breath, Scott staved off panic a moment longer while the water rose past his nostrils. The ice-cold water stung his lower eyelid, forcing his to close his eyes. The last thing he could see burned into the back of his mind: it was Matt, his head slumped forward into his lap, the water only inches from swallowing him.

  Scott felt enormous pressure on his ankles, this time ripping him backwards, the metal from the crumpled window shredding through his jacket and into his skin as he careened backward, his head slamming on the metal rim of the window. He barely held onto Matt’s jeans by one outstretched finger, which stung painfully, threatening to pop clean out of the socket.

  The water stung his eyes and he could barely see anything in the dark, frozen water, only the vague outline of Matt’s unconscious body, and the hole from the window beyond. Leaning his head to the side, he slipped through the opening of the window, his eyes fixed intently on Matt who slowly moved toward the doorway along with him.

  The water rose with each passing second, nearly past the center of the steering wheel, splashing
across the bottom of Matt’s chin.

  Scott could feel the man’s hands shuffling for a new grip, preparing for another tug. The water stung his flesh. His head began to throb, and it was all he could do to concentrate on holding onto Matt while the freezing water attempted to shut his body down.

  The tug came as he had expected, yanking him backward through the water. Everything moved in slow motion. He could feel the belt loop on Matt’s pants snap even before he saw it, falling rapidly away from his stretching fingers as he was yanked through the rising water. Matt’s body slumped further into the depths, covering his face as it now filled the car.

  Scott watched in horror, helpless. Matt began to thrash frantically, his eyes popping wide open in terror. His mouth parted to scream, only to be filled with the slushy water. Closing his mouth as quickly as he could, his eyes darted all about the inside of the vehicle, finally latching on Scott’s as he was yanked through the window and out onto the crumbling ice.

  Scott gave one last glance through the crumpled window. He could see Matt reaching for him, his hands trembling, his eyes so wide that it looked as though they might roll out. He was calling to him, his mouth moving as it formed words he couldn’t understand.

  And then the car was gone.

  The tires were the last to sink beneath the flaccid, barely bubbling black surface, leaving only the lightest stir in the water.

  Scott lunged, trying to dive beneath the frozen lake, but the man yanked him one final time by the legs, pulling him away from the slowly expanding hole in the ice.

  He buried in the snow, tears bursting from the corners of his eyes and screamed into the frozen ground. The image of his drowning friend, pleading with him for help in the dark waters, forever burned into the scars in his mind.

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