Shades of Green

by Ian Woodhead

  “Oh my God,” muttered Pete, “Will you look at that!”

  Damien’s eyes snapped open. He stared aghast at what this foul stuff had done to his beloved town overnight.

  “I’ll never complain about nettles in my flower bed ever again.”

  “It’ll take more than a packet of weed killer to clear this lot,” replied Damien.

  At least now that the sun had come up, the night creatures would leave them alone. He shuddered, thinking about just how many times during the night they’d come close to being eaten.

  “How far are we now Damien?”

  “We’re almost there, nearly within spitting distance.”

  A couple of days ago, it would have only taken him just a few minutes to stroll to his front door, then again two days ago there wasn’t a solid line of carnivorous trees in-between their current location and his house. The only place where the line was unbroken was here, where they stood, by the boating lake.

  There were five boats chained up down by the quay, each one painted and lacquered to suggest a nautical theme. They would have to find another route as Damien knew from experience that they had no chance of breaking those padlocks. The local council had spent a lot of money in upgrading the security of this park and those padlocks had already withstood a battering from the local bored kids and drunken teenagers.

  The only other route across was the old footbridge and Damien had already proclaimed that to be a non-starter. Cordoned off and awaiting demolition, and in this new world where anything wooden was fair game, that bridge should have fallen into the lake hours ago.

  Damien’s hand held onto the wooden post as he watched the old man’s skeletal form edge inch by inch over the bridge. Jennifer was almost over, thank God, and soon it would be his turn. Pete stood next to Damien, shouting out words of encouragement to his friend. Damien wished that he had known Pete before all this had happened; he seemed a decent enough bloke. It’s hard to believe that they had just had a blazing argument that ended in him almost punching the man.

  Pete had asked what those metal rings on the boats were for. It surprised Damien that he didn’t know. He explained the function of the long metal pole, hooked at one end, designed to bring in any floundering boat. Pete got all excited, and told everyone that it must be stored in that shed over there; it wouldn’t take a moment to break through that door as the wood was bound to be rotten by now. He then pointed to the single yellow boat that escaped the chain and was adrift in the middle of the lake.

  The others had run down to the shed but Damien had stayed put, staring at the boat and in particular the dark, still lake. He hadn’t disclosed the contents of his last nightmare to anyone, at the time it just seemed like a stupid dream. While the others crashed through the shed, looking for this pole that may or may not have been there he looked deep into the lake.

  It seemed more solid than still, like a solid sheet of black glass, he had yet to see a single ripple on its surface. Now his nightmare didn’t seem so irrelevant anymore and any thought of going anywhere near that lake filled him with cold dread.

  From the sound of the excited voices they had found the pole. He watched them bounding towards him but their enthusiasm wasn’t infecting him, he shared their eagerness to get away from this hell hole but wasn’t about to ignore the warning.

  He should have known that they weren’t going to take him seriously, Damien expected the naked anger from the tall pensioner but not from Pete who struck him as a quiet and sensible person, he put it down to nerves. They thought that as soon as they got to the house that everything would be okay and here he was raining on their parade.

  He had understood this and knew it was just frustration speaking, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to punch the man in the face. If the orange worm hadn’t poked its head out of a hole by the side of the lake, he reckoned somebody would have been hurt.

  The worm never stood a chance. There wasn’t anything living in the lake, not anymore, the predator was the lake and when the orange head cleared the hole, a fountain of matter exploded out from the middle and fell on the worm, coating it like an oil-slicked seabird, the stuff pulled it to the edge then dragged it under. Damien turned to Pete and they both looked at the footbridge.

  Dave had almost reached the other side. Damien sighed, he’d hoped that the grumpy bastard would slip and fall into the gloop below. He felt a hand rest upon his shoulders.

  “Do you not think the bridge is rickety enough without you trying to crush the wood?”

  Pete followed Damien’s glare and squeezed his shoulder.

  “Try not to be too hard on the old man, I’m sure he didn’t mean it to sound like that, he’s not a bad old stick.”

  Damien sighed.

  “I don’t think Dave’s having the best of days,” Pete said.

  Damien almost laughed out loud. “And we’ve had a good one? There was no excuse for him trying to take my head off. I know I should have thanked him earlier for pulling the blue vines off me but I was too wired up.”

  “I think we all were.”

  “Anyway, it was better late than never.”

  Pete nodded. “I agree, his outburst was a little unexpected.”

  Dave was over; Damien told Pete to go next and hoisted him over the wire fence and onto the footbridge boardwalk. After seeing the state of the underside of Pete’s work boots, the green stalks growing out of the treads, as he crawled across, Damien tried not to think about the state of his own shoes. Stalks have root systems that look for food and moisture.

  He could picture Pete gasping as he took off his boot to reveal a network of tiny white roots burrowed into the sole of his foot.

  “Are you okay?”

  Damien jumped. He wasn’t aware that Pete had been staring at him.

  “I was miles away,” he replied, not wanting to elaborate.

  “Look Damien, there’s something I need to tell you and I think this will be the only time we’ll be alone.”

  “Don’t even think of proposing to me mate, I’m almost married.”

  Pete ignored him, watching the two on the other side of the bank.

  “How do you think Dave was able to free himself from those blue vines?”

  Damien shrugged; he hadn’t given it any thought.

  “Dave was caught just like the rest of us but the trees rejected him; spat him out like an apple pip.”

  That didn’t make sense to Damien; he wondered why he hadn’t noticed that earlier. Jen had simply pulled the vines apart like they were made of cooked spaghetti before she flew over and rescued him. He had kind of gotten used to his girlfriend being infested now. There was no way that Dave was like Jen. He would have seen the signs.

  “He’s been bitten,” Pete said.

  “What, when?”

  “Before we met you.”

  “But that’s impossible!” Damien replied. “They should have hatched by now.”

  “Maybe the venom from the demon’s bite killed the eggs or something, I don’t know,” Pete shrugged. “But what I’m trying to tell you is that I think Dave knows that he’s living on borrowed time so just go easy on him, okay?”

  Damien nodded, his mind still on the vines burrowing into Pete’s boot. Apparently satisfied that he had made his point, Pete continued along the bridge. He didn’t understand Pete at all. Did Dave have something on Pete? Or maybe he treated all his friends like an overprotective mother hen.

  “Maybe the bite slowed the process down,” Damien said to himself. He wasn’t going to go to sleep anywhere near him, that was for goddamn sure.

  As Pete clambered off the over side, the post Damien was holding began to sway and the whole structure creaked.

  “Find another way round” Jen shouted. “It’ll collapse if you get on it!”

  Damien looked at the endless line of carnivorous trees on either side, all the new flora and fauna out there, just waiting for him to take one careless step - and climbed onto the bridge.

  He knew t
hat it was only spit and luck holding this together and he was probably off his rocker for trying it but what other choice did he have? He inched forward, watching the stuff below bubbling up like boiling mud as if it knew that its next meal was imminent.

  Oh God, this was a stupid idea. The bridge lurched to one side. Damien squealed and dug his fingers into the soft wood. He got on his hands and knees and shuffled forward, the urge to rush over was overpowering but he knew that any sudden moves would send the bridge and him tumbling into the stuff below. Every time he moved, he could feel the vibration shuddering through the wood.

  He tore his eyes away from the bubbling stuff below and looked over at Jen, hoping she’d give him a few words of encouragement but there was no chance of that, she was in yet another argument with Dave.

  The bridge shuddered again, and he knew that there would be no more warnings. The supports were splintering, he screamed and ran and jumped just as the entire structure collapsed. Pete caught his arms and pulled him away from the edge; he lost his balance and fell on top of Pete just in time to see Jen storming off.

  He scrambled off Pete, “What did you say to her?” he shouted.

  Dave just shook his head and turned away. Damien was going to rip the bastard’s face off, fuck the going easy on him, enough was enough.

  “Stop it!” Pete shouted. He’d caught hold of his foot as Damien stormed past and pulled Damien back. “I’ll take care of Dave - you go get your girlfriend!”

  Damien glared at the old man as he ran past him; he didn’t even notice Damien was there. Dave just continued to stare into space; the guy was out of it. Dave was a liability and Damien had the feeling that if they didn’t ditch him soon, he’d end up getting one of them killed.

  He ran across the overgrown bowling green, heading for the enclosed kiddie playground. Damien couldn’t see her anywhere, where the hell was she? This wasn’t fair, why now? They had managed to keep it together all bastard night only for her to pull a trick like this.

  “Jennifer!”

  No answer. He didn’t understand, why the bloody hell had she run off in the first place? Jen was more than capable of looking after herself, she ought to shrug off any loaded comment some old fool like Dave would utter. It just didn’t make sense.

  He caught sight of a flash of yellow disappearing around the back of the brick-built changing rooms at the top of the park. That had to be her; he was sure that she was wearing a yellow blouse under her coat.

  “Jen! Wait up”. He raced towards the building, it had to be her, who else could it be?

  He saw another flash of yellow but this time it was above him, close by the side of his head. As he turned to investigate, something crashed into his back almost knocking him into the brick building. He spun around, trying to dislodge whatever it was. He could feel it, trying to claw through his thick coat like a dog digging a hole. Damien reached around, intending to pull the thing off; he screamed when it dug its teeth into his fingers.

  “Get the fuck off me!” The coat material started to tear; it dug faster, aware that his soft flesh was only millimetres away from its claws.

  Damien turned around and ran backwards, slamming his back against the bricks. The creature popped and burst and foul smelling liquid ran down the back of his leg. He pulled his arms out of the coat and threw it onto the floor and got his first sight of the creature that had tried to drill a hole into his back.

  The dead compound eyes of an insectile monster as big as a house cat stared back at him. It was segmented like a centipede with four pairs of serrated legs on either side and was covered in bright yellow hair like a bumble bee. Damien booted the vile thing across the field then watched two orange worms emerge from burrows to fight over the carcass.

  Where had she gone? He heard Pete calling him from across the boating lake, but he chose to ignore him and ran around the side of the changing rooms. Jennifer was cowering by the swings whilst three of the yellow bastards took turns in dive bombing her. She didn’t scream; she wasn’t making any sound.

  Damien spied a half-brick by the changing room door; he snatched it up and ran up to the swings, screaming like a madman and waving his arms, hoping that the thing would fly off.

  They didn’t even flinch. He faltered, wondering just how much damage he could do against creatures who didn’t give a shit whether he was there or not. Then one of them anchored its four legs onto Jen’s back. She only had a thin cotton blouse on, and remembering just how little time it took the one on him to claw through his coat, he rushed forward and slammed the brick into its body.

  This one was made of sterner stuff as the brick just glanced off its outer shell. The other two decided that Damien’s company wasn’t welcome and flew up into the air, ready to drop down on him. His time was running out.

  “I’m sorry, Jen,” he whispered, then took hold of the shell and ripped the thing off her back. Its serrated legs took most of the material with them and left deep ugly green gashes all the way down her back. He snarled in disgust and stamped down upon the creature’s tender underside, cracking it open like a rotten egg.

  The other two creatures snarled at him before flying off. He saw Dave and Pete running towards them; Pete had the hooked pole in his hands. It seemed that the cowardly yellow bastards didn’t like the odds anymore.

  “It’s okay, sweetheart, they’ve gone now.” He rested his hands on her shoulders and she responded by shrugging him off.

  “Christ Jen! What have I done wrong?” He grabbed her shoulders and this time he spun her round. He saw now why she had been unable to respond.

  A hard plate of bone had sealed up her mouth, growing over her cheek and covering one eye. He launched himself at her face, desperate to pull it off.

  “Jesus, man!” Pete said, pulling him back. “Are you trying to kill her? It isn’t like a plaster or scab, the bloody thing has deep roots.”

  Damien shrugged him off.

  “When the demons held us prisoner,” said Pete. “There was an old dear with us and her face was like that.” He pointed at Jennifer.

  “Some fellow had the bright idea of trying to pull it off just as you were going to. The old woman’s blood just pissed out of her when he managed to get off a tiny piece. The demons ripped him up good when they saw what he had done.”

  Damien pushed past Pete and prodded Dave in the chest.

  “This is all your fault!”

  Pete growled and pushed in between them. “Can’t we keep it together?”

  “Why is it my fault?” demanded Dave. “You can’t blame me for that!”

  “Can we continue this at a later date?” Pete snapped.

  They both ignored him.

  “Well, you must have done something, I saw you having a go at her!”

  “Are you two fucking blind?” Pete pointed at the sky. There was a large black cloud heading towards them. Thousands of the yellow flying abominations were heading towards them at high speed.

  Somebody pushed him violently forwards; for one horrific moment, he thought another one of the things had landed on his back.

  “Don’t just stand there gawping,” cried Dave. “We don’t know where you live.”

  Damien shook himself out of his reverie, grabbed his silent girlfriend’s hand and pulled her towards the dry stone wall that bordered the park and the road.

  He didn’t dare look back; Damien didn’t need to see that the flying things were still closing in, the cacophony of the creatures excited shrieking filled his ears.

  They weren’t going to make it; those things would be on them in seconds. Jen squeezed his hand before pulling him off the track, he didn’t resist when he saw where she was leading them.

  A clump of carnivorous trees growing apart from the main line already had their vines up in the air and snatching up the odd yellow monster that strayed from the pack. He risked looking back; the other two stuck to them like glue and that cloud had also turned.

  Jen pulled him from the tree perimeter, towards t
he centre. Would the trees bother with table scraps when there was a banquet just above them? Well, they were about to find out. She stopped beside an enormous trunk and flung her arms around him and held him tight, she motioned Dave to do the same to Pete.

  The excitable shrieks soon gave way to screams of terror as the flying things flew straight into the waving blue tree vines. The prospect of an easy meal was soon forgotten as the flying monsters found they were fighting for their very lives as the ravenous trees reached out and plucked them out of the air. The trees wrapped their vines around the bodies before pushing the hollow tipped spikes into their tender underbellies. The tree drained them dry before allowing the dry husks to crash through the forest canopy and shatter on the ground.

  They stayed silent while the casings fell around them, not daring to do anything that might alert the trees to their presence.

  It wasn’t until the ground beneath their feet started to move that Damien remembered that danger wasn’t just from the air. He tapped Jennifer.

  “We need to move, sweetheart.”

  Scores of orange worms pushed up through the earth, crawling through the remains of the creatures and picking off any scraps of flesh still stuck to the shells.

  Damien had seen them take live food and didn’t think that they’d be content with scraps when they realised that there were solid lumps of human flesh hiding amongst them.

  Dave looked over to Damien, “What if those things are still out there, just waiting for us to emerge?”

  “He’s got a point.” added Pete.

  Damien watched the vines slide back down and shook his head. He untangled Jen and took her hand. “Stay here, then.”