by Gina Ranalli
Both John and Jackie recognized the creature immediately: another one of those things , its orange eyes glittering while one talon gripped the side of the window frame and the other swooped back and forth inside the house, catching Shelly in the side and pulling her forward into its grasp.
“MOM!” Jackie broke free of her boyfriend and raced to assist her mother, who continued to scream and thrash. With one quick turn of her head, John saw one of the glass shards had impaled Shelly’s eye, the side of her face a shiny red mask.
Jackie grabbed her mother around the waist and pulled with all her might, trying to rip the older woman free of the creature’s grip, but only succeeded in dragging the moth thing through the window and into the house. It landed with a small thud on the linoleum floor, smearing the puddles of blood that were growing larger by the second, its one talon still deep in Shelly’s side, tearing its way across her belly.
It’s in the house, John thought. Dear God, help us. It’s in the house!
The thought broke his paralysis and he shouted, “Jackie, no!”
He dove forward and wrenched her away from her mother whose stomach wound was now oozing pink, glistening intestines. The older woman stopped screaming and her eyes rolled back into her head and, no longer being held up by her daughter, she slumped to the floor, unconscious.
“We have to get out of here,” John yelled, shaking Jackie to get her to pay attention to him. “Look at me. We have to go!”
The creature yanked its one talon free from Shelly’s torso and began to get to its feet, rising high on its spindly legs. The glowing orange eyes fell on the teens and John thought he could feel his mind snapping as his bladder let go. He clamped his hand over Jackie’s mouth in an attempt to shut her up and bit back his own scream as the thing took a shaky step towards them.
John dared a glance at the door, a little over a yard to their left, while the creature was an equal distance in front of them. He knew the thing could move fast. They’d seen it for themselves, but he was confident he could make the door with no trouble. The problem was: if he had to drag Jackie?
The question was answered for him when she suddenly broke away from his grip and grabbed the lit candle he’d placed on the counter a few minutes before and heaved it at the monster, catching it square in the face. The thing’s wings sprang open, maybe in an attempt to protect itself, then Jackie was racing for the door, shouting, “Come on!”
John wasted no time. He was on her heels as she burst through the screen door and into the night air. Together they ran for his truck, while he shouted, “Go, go, go!” at her back.
Dark shapes circled the sky above them, darting downwards and swirling madly, making it impossible to tell exactly how many of them there were.
Feeling a whoosh of air whip across the top of his head, John ducked and ran on. Luckily, the truck was close enough for them to get inside it without incident, though one of the creatures slammed into the passenger side door an instant after Jackie had closed it.
There was a faint crunching sound and the monster slid out of sight. Jackie began to cry as John fished in his pockets for the keys, his hands shaking so badly he was convinced when he located them he’d probably drop them and lose them, failing both Jackie and himself.
“I think it killed my mom,” Jackie gasped through choppy breaths. “She’s . . . she’s . . .”
John didn’t know how to respond, so he said nothing.
After what seemed like an eternity, he located the car keys and willed himself to stop trembling long enough to slam the correct one into the ignition.
The engine cranked over on the first try and John shifted into reverse while stomping on the gas pedal. Jackie was tossed forward into the dashboard, but she didn’t seem to notice. She stared through the windshield at her house, sobbing and stammering a stream of words he couldn’t make out.
He shifted gear again and peeled out, but had driven no more than a dozen yards when another of the creatures fell from the sky and landed on the hood, its wings spread wide, crouching for balance, its glowing eyes peering in at the teens with more hatred than anything John could ever have imagined.
The thing startled him and he twisted the wheel hard to the right, grazing a new Mazda parked on the side of the road. Immediately, the little sports car’s alarm began to screech furiously, drawing more of the creatures to both vehicles.
Within seconds, the truck was swarmed with dark-winged monsters and swerving all over the road until it bumped over the left curb and collided with an old spruce, the trunk of which was nearly the width of the pickup itself.
John’s airbag burst, instantly breaking his nose, dazing him with an explosion of agony. Glass shattered and he was dimly aware of the sound of someone screaming, but he was too disoriented to understand where it was coming from. It took him several long seconds to clear his head. He snuffled blood into the back of his throat and twisted his head to see Jackie struggling in the passenger seat. One of the creatures was half in and half out of the truck. Its lower body was still out on the hood, but its upper half had come in through the smashed windshield and it had Jackie by the shoulders, thrashing her body from side-to-side while it simultaneously fought to pull her over the dashboard and out through the broken windshield.
“No!” John shouted, scrambling across the center console to grab the thing by its brittle throat, squeezing it as hard as he could and attempting to pull it towards himself and away from his girl.
Beside him, Jackie’s wails of terror turned into shrieks of pain and a quick glance at her arms and shoulders told him why.
The creature’s talons had dug deep trenches from her shoulders down her upper arms to her elbows. Through the blood and raw, red meat of muscle, he could make out the shiny white glimmer of bone in spots on one of her arms.
The sight was almost enough to make him scream as he continued to wrestle with the thing that had, at least for the moment, forgotten about Jackie and was now completely focused on him.
He felt something snap beneath his squeezing hands and the creature’s head fell crookedly to one side. After a surge of triumph, he suddenly felt hopeful they might win this battle after all.
But the feeling was short-lived as another creature fought its way inside the vehicle. His hands began to burn. He released the thing’s neck to gaze down at his blackened palms, bewildered. His hands appeared to be liquefying before his eyes.
“Wha—” he tried to speak, glancing over at Jackie to see that she, too, appeared to be melting. Her arms didn’t look like arms anymore, but instead resembled melting red candles, some of the dripping wax burning so hot it was scorched black.
John slumped sideways, his head landing in the lap of his already-unconscious girlfriend, and before he lost consciousness himself, he heard fireworks and felt a small twinge of happiness.
His favorite holiday had always been the Fourth of July.
Chapter 34
The radio in the squad car crackled to life. Collie snatched up the handset and shouted “We’re a little busy right now, Burke!”
He craned his neck to look out the back windshield. They were losing the moth creatures. They could fly fast, but not as fast as a car moving over fifty miles an hour.
“You can slow down now, Casper,” he said, though she gave no indication of hearing him.
On the radio, Burke said, “Those kids are in trouble, Sheriff. The same ones Brown and Simmons interviewed. They’re being attacked right now. Caller says they’re probably dead already.”
Collie shouted a curse and punched the dashboard, startling Casper enough to make the car lurch to the left into the oncoming traffic lane. She quickly corrected and finally eased up on the gas.
“Where are they?” Collie barked into the handset.
Burke gave the address and they learned they were less than a mile from the crash site.
“On our way,” Collie said and signed off.
Casper looked less than thrilled about their next a
ssignment. “I don’t think we’re going to last the night, Steven,” she said. “This whole town is screwed.”
“Don’t say that,” he said. “We’re gonna get through this. We’re all gonna get through it.”
She gave him a quick, skeptical glance then returned her attention to the road. They drove the rest of the way to the accident scene in silence, Collie quickly losing himself in his own dark thoughts.
When Casper turned the car onto Murray Avenue, they immediately saw the crashed truck on the side of the road. There were at least a dozen of the moth creatures both on and around the vehicle, surrounding it completely while a car alarm blared furiously nearby.
The sky was alive with fliers, wings batting in a blur as they swooped and dove, some of them attacking the noisy Mazda, pounding on its roof and windows with their deadly talons.
Casper rolled the cruiser to a stop about twenty feet from the truck. “I have an idea.”
“I hope it’s a good one,” Collie replied, “because there’s already nothing moving in the cab of that truck except the moth things. It was probably too late for those kids even before the call made it to Burke.”
“Look,” Casper said, pointing. The creatures were becoming less interested in the truck and more of them focused on the blaring Mazda. “The car is drawing them away from the kids.” She looked at him, her eyes gleaming with a spark of hope. “Maybe they . . .” She trailed off, not daring to continue.
Collie reigned her back in. “Your plan, Casper.”
She stared out at the madness before them. “It’s probably suicide.”
“What is it?”
“They’ll chase us if we use the siren, right?”
He nodded. “So what?”
“If we can draw them away from the kids, they might have a chance. But we’ll have to shut up that car alarm to get them all to follow us.”
“How do you expect us—”
The sudden sound of gunfire caused both officers to flinch and duck down. When it didn’t repeat, they both cautiously lifted their heads and peered out the windows in every direction.
“Someone is shooting from inside one of the houses,” Collie said. “Came from the east, I think.”
They studied each of the houses on that side of the street until they spotted movement in an upper window of a yellow ranch-style home. Another pop and flash and Collie let out a curse.
“He’s trying to shoot those things,” Casper said.
“So much for the government cover-up,” Collie grumbled. “Everyone in town knows about these things now.”
“I’m gonna get out. Try to get to the truck and check on the kids. I want you to take off with the siren going, okay?”
“No, it’s not okay,” he barked. “You were right the first time. That’s suicide.”
“Maybe not. With the siren going, they’ll follow you and hopefully our Good Samaritan in the window up there is a good enough shot to at least give me some cover.”
“And then what? You’ll still be a sitting duck.”
“But hopefully, the things will be gone. We can get an ambulance out here.”
“No way.” He shook his head, barely flinching at the sound of more gunfire. “Just drive up to the side of the truck. We’ll look inside and see if there’s anything worth saving first. If we see movement, we’ll act then.”
“But the—”
“No!” He glared at her, truly angry. “You’re behind the wheel, Deputy. Pull up alongside that truck and we’ll take it from there.”
Casper set her jaw, but did as she was told, slowly rolling the cruiser forward as even more of the moth creatures swarmed the still-shrieking Mazda.
When they were close enough to the truck, she stopped the vehicle, but the angle at which the truck had crashed into the tree made it difficult to see inside. Casper pulled the car forward a few more feet so they could turn in their seat for a better view.
Still it was impossible to see much beyond the smashed windshield. The kids were obviously slumped down in their seats below the dashboard.
“I need to get out and open the passenger side door,” Casper said.
“This is insane,” Collie said. “I’ll do it.”
“I’m right here, Steven,” she snapped. “You’ll have to go all the way around the car, not to mention our friendly neighborhood shooter could accidentally hit you from that side. I have the protection of the car.”
Collie scowled, craned his neck to look back in the direction of the house with the shooter. “I don’t know about that. Seems he’s gotten a little unwanted attention himself now.”
Casper verified. Several moth creatures were en route to the ranch house, drawn towards the sound of the gunfire.
“This debate is over,” she said and opened her door, left the relative safety of the car, and ran in a crouch towards the crashed truck.
When she reached it, she yanked open the passenger door and a teenage girl half tumbled out, sans arms. She was clearly dead—bled out probably—and Casper forced her attention past the body to the boy who lay sprawled over the center console. She reached over the dead girl, leaning into the truck to check the boy’s pulse. It was weak, but even at her touch, his eyes fluttered open and briefly rolled back in his head before he lost consciousness again.
“Is he alive?”
Casper turned; Collie was behind her. If she’d had time, she would have cursed his name to the moon and back, but she didn’t have that luxury right now. “Yes,” she answered. “Let’s get him into our car.”
Together, they pulled the dead girl out of the way and placed her on the street, out of their path. Casper wished they had time to find something to cover the body with, but they didn’t. Instead, they went back and hauled the boy from the truck while chaos surrounded them.
The Mazda’s siren had abruptly cut out and the shooter hadn’t fired his weapon since the officers had left their vehicle. There was no time to find out for sure if that was a good thing or not. All they knew was everything was quiet now, and it was them the creatures would turn their attention to if they made any noise whatsoever.
Despite the urgency of the situation, they found themselves moving in slow motion, cringing every time one of their shoes even scraped a pebble across the road. The only sounds were the flapping of gossamer wings in the air and the occasional clicking of talons on solid objects.
Collie cradled the teenager in his arms while Casper opened the back door of the squad car as silently as possible. He placed the boy on the back seat, tucking his knees up to his torso, and then closed the door, barely allowing it to latch.
The cops’ eyes met then, and each saw Casper knew Collie was skirting the edge of panic just like she was. He gestured for her to get into the passenger seat through the driver’s side door.
She scowled but obeyed. Being smaller, it was easier for her to climb through the car than it would be for him. She was barely inside when he climbed in after her, closing his door and releasing his pent-up breath.
“I can’t believe we pulled that off,” he said.
“It was a miracle,” she agreed. “Now let’s get out of here.”
He put the car in gear. “Still think we should crank the siren?”
She shook her head, her cheeks suddenly flushing. “That was a stupid idea.”
As he began to ease the car forward, he said, “It was a good idea, just not the right time for it.”
Casper turned to examine the boy in the back seat. He was bloodied, his skin bleached white, one of his hands melted away to a ragged red and black stump, but his chest slowly rose and fell, giving her a twinge of optimism. “Let’s just get him to the hospital.”
“If those things hear the engine, they’ll probably come with us and then what?”
She knew he was right. He had to drive slowly, at least until they were off this street, or else risk a deadly escort the entire way. They’d probably never be able to get the kid from the cruiser into the emergency room.
Casper swore under her breath and prepared herself for a long ride.
Chapter 35
Shortly after they arrived at the emergency department, the agents learned that four of the town’s ambulances were out on call, while the fifth had just arrived carrying another ravaged victim of the moth creatures, this one claiming to have been attacked when he’d gone outside to investigate a loud ruckus coming from his backyard shed. He’d opened the door and, armed with only a flashlight, had gotten barely a glimpse of a torn cocoon when something had swooped out of the darkness and lashed at the arm with the light, gouging it to the bone.
The flashlight had gone flying across the yard and the creature had given chase, pouncing on the object while the man silently stumbled back to his house to be greeted by his wife, a nurse who’d tied a tourniquet at his shoulder and called 911. The man was lucky, or so he and his wife assumed, but Hogan and Swanson knew better. He, like all the others who’d come into contact with the mystery dust that coated the creatures, would almost surely be infected.
They watched the man get wheeled past them, his wife trotting beside the gurney as a doctor ran to meet them. Hogan covered his face with both hands and sighed heavily. When he dropped his hands, Swanson saw the disconcerting sight of dark circles beginning to emerge beneath his haunted eyes. Hogan had always been the optimist in their partnership and to see him looking so downtrodden and hopeless was a blow to her own frame of mind, adding yet another crack to the many that already existed.
“What now?” she asked.
He opened his mouth to answer, but the emergency area came alive and they both turned to see what was happening. People wearing scrubs raced back and forth around them; some headed out of sight while a couple ran out the door and into the night.
“This can’t be good,” Hogan said, shoving his spectacles back up his nose.
Swanson grabbed a nurse as the man was attempting to run by. “What’s happening?”
“Someone jumped off the roof,” he panted and ran on.
The agents glanced at each other, their expressions shocked, before chasing after the nurse.