“There. Over there. Keep calm.”
She followed the direction of Harris’ finger, peering into the fog. For a moment, she couldn’t see anything beyond the thick white mist that lazily drifted across her vision. Then it cleared, just enough for her to make out three or four oddly-shaped forms crouching over something in the road. As though the weather had sensed her inability to see, the fog cleared further, and she swore under her breath as she caught sight of the unmistakeable blue-black skin. “Crap. Skin-Eaters. What the hell are they doing here? It’s nearly the middle of the day.”
Harris looked around them, giving a worried shake of his head. “It must be the fog. Maybe it’s made it easier for them. It’s still strange, though.”
Remembering how Reilly had mentioned never having seen one before, Freda turned to her left, giving the blond woman a nudge. Her tattered remnants of hair were now tucked up into a snug purple beanie found at the garage, but it hadn’t stopped a few locks from escaping the sides. She took in Reilly’s tight expression. “Hey,” she whispered. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just…” Reilly blew out a breath, her fingers tightening on the gun. “Seeing them up close after what you guys said last night…it’s a little scary. What should we do?”
“Go around them,” Harris answered decisively. “We don’t want to attract their attention. And we don’t want to fight them, if we can help it. We’ll just go around the road for a while, and give them a wide berth. We can’t take the bikes, but it’s a small price to pay.”
With their plan decided, the three of them slunk around the burnt-out car, towards the wooden fence that lined the side of the road. It was broken in places, pieces hanging off it by a single nail, and it was no trouble to find a spot where they could easily pass through to the field on the other side. The fog dissipated as they silently crept through the long weeds, each one snagging at them as they passed. Freda dared to look over to her right, towards the four Skin-Eaters. She felt bile rise into her throat as she realised she could hear the sounds of crunching and swallowing, and it only grew worse as the fog cleared enough for her to see what the creatures were crouched over. Two bodies lay in the middle of the road, a man and a woman. Both looked young, maybe no more than twenty or so. The woman’s eyes were wide and turned to Freda with a glassy stare, her still hand reaching out for a blade that glittered only a few feet away. Freda had to swallow hard to stop the retch she felt coming as she saw one of the Skin-Eaters reach down to pull at the woman’s side, before putting something into its mouth and chewing. Their name wasn’t just to scare young children, she knew that, but it was still horrifying to see it in person.
Her head felt dizzy as her pulse pounded against her skull, but she kept her eyes trained on Harris as he moved ahead, only taking a second to glance over her shoulder towards Reilly. The young woman’s face was pale, but Freda couldn’t tell if it was because she had looked at the same scene she had, or if she was simply trying to hide her fear. She continued following through the weeds, her thick boots feeling heavy on her feet as she tried to step through quietly. She looked down for a moment to let her gaze wander over their worn leather, before glancing back up just in time to see Harris going too close to a nail sticking out from one of the fences.
He hissed under his breath as his side scraped along it, the sharp point of the nail disappearing for a moment into the red-and-cream of his plaid shirt. Freda heard the tear of fabric as the nail rent it apart, but it was the red soaking into it a second later that sent a pang of panic through her chest. Harris paused and twisted back to stare over at Freda and Reilly, horror etched into his expression. He knew as much as she did what would happen next.
As if happening in slow motion, one of the Skin-Eaters paused in their task, lifting its head and sniffing the breeze. A wheezing, sucking sound came as it pulled air through the large hole that covered its face. Blood. They could always smell it. The others turned with it, all searching through the fog with their beady eyes. Freda took a deep breath, turning towards the creatures and lifting the weapon to aim at the closest Skin-Eater. She blew out a deep breath, her finger hovering over the trigger, grateful that her artificial arm seemed to be doing exactly what she wanted it to. It’s only a matter of seconds before they see us. The closest creature moved its head just as she lifted the barrel, the meagre sunlight glinting dangerously off it, the creature’s eyes narrowing as it spotted her. It let out a horrifying screech that rent through the morning air.
It leapt up to its full height, and the Skin-Eater beside it turned and did the same—but Freda had just enough time to register that its eyes were brilliant white, unlike the others. Her instincts snapped in before she could think on it further, and she gave a roar, holding the gun steady and squeezing the trigger. The bullet rocketed from the weapon, sinking into the Skin-Eater’s stomach. It staggered backwards, clutching wildly at the wound as blood oozed from it. She let go of the barrel with her artificial hand, moving it to pull the bolt back without even thinking about it. It worked faster than her natural hand ever had, and a thrill went through her as she knelt forwards on one leg, firing again. This time the creature sensed what she was about to do, and it darted to one side before she had a chance to finish what she had started.
Reilly beside her gave a scream, and a panicked blast followed as she shot blindly towards the Skin-Eaters charging at the three of them. By some stroke of luck, the shot went straight into the chest of a smaller Skin-Eater at the back, stopping it cold as it hovered for a moment, before staggering forwards and slumping to the ground in a writhing heap. It crawled for a few seconds before giving up with a wheeze.
“Good shot, Reilly!” Harris encouraged, his deep voice grating as he fired his own shot towards the largest Skin-Eater, the one with the brilliant white eyes. It gave a snarl as his aim proved true, and the shot ripped into the flesh of its arm. It gave him a poisonous glare, before placing the knuckles of its hands against the ground and running hard towards him like a gorilla. He didn’t move out of the way in time as the large beast gave a hair-raising roar, reaching out for him with its massive claw-fingers. It managed to strike him on his side—the same side the nail had gone through—and he couldn’t help buckling for a moment as fresh red marks appeared through the tatters of his shirt.
“Harris!” Freda cried out in alarm, but she didn’t have time to get over to him before another of the Skin-Eaters swiped out towards her face. She hadn’t noticed it was almost on top of her, too distracted by Harris being attacked, and it almost managed to catch her eye. The claw was so close that she could see the brown staining clinging to the edges of the sharpened bone. Hell no. I’m not losing an eye as well. Swinging her weapon around, she fired quickly, sending a bullet into the head of the creature. It caught its cheek, creating a small hole, but the Skin-Eater didn’t seem to notice. It barely recoiled before it jumped towards her, screaming loudly as its arms flailed for her. A burning sensation went over her injured leg as she felt something rip into it, and her leg sank beneath her for a moment as the nerves reacted, attempting to pull it out of harm’s way. The Skin-Eater made a gargling sound that seemed almost like a wicked laugh, rounding on Freda as she struggled to get up again. It swept one claw out towards her head, leaving her no time to move.
Working entirely on instinct, she pulled her arm up in front of her face—her artificial arm. Relief shot through her as she saw the confusion in the creature’s eyes as its claws clashed with steel. She grinned despite her perilous position, gritting her teeth and taking the Skin-Eater’s moment of uncertainty as an opportunity, placing the end of her weapon’s barrel against its chest. It looked down and back up at her in horror, its eyes narrowing, but it wasn’t fast enough to get out of the way. Freda pulled the trigger, sending a bullet bursting through the same place the Skin-Eater’s heart beat. Its eyes turned glassy as it let out a dying wheeze of air before sliding to the ground, groaning as its life ebbed away.
She turned to help Reilly with
the remaining Skin-Eater, taking her place beside her as it rounded on them both. “You okay?” she shouted over, never taking her eyes off the creature as it moved slowly from side to side a few metres away. The way it moved made her wary, like it was more intelligent than the others, and was trying to attack in a way that didn’t involve running at them and getting shot. It made a shiver rise along her spine as she looked into its face, seeing the same white of the larger Skin-Eater’s gaze bleeding into the edges of its black eyes.
Reilly replied in a shaking voice, “Y-Yes. So far!” She raised the shotgun with trembling hands, but her eyes remained open and steady as she took a shot. It missed the creature easily as it swept to one side, reading her movements clearly. Its eyes narrowed, and it hissed, legs bending as though it was getting ready to run.
Understanding the Skin-Eater’s movements, Freda came in closer beside her friend, turning her head just enough to murmur, “Hold steady. It’s going to run at us, okay? Just get ready to shoot. If you can’t shoot, try to dodge out of the way.”
“What? I—”
Reilly’s words were cut off as Freda’s statement came true. The blue-black creature tilted back its head, letting out a chilling howl to the misty midday sunshine, revealing thin, blackened teeth residing within the lower cavity of its mouth. It menacingly lowered its stare until it was level again with the two women, before breaking into a full-pelt run for them. Freda could practically feel Reilly shaking beside her as she listened to her companion’s harsh breathing. Freda’s senses were on high alert as she braced herself. Everything became sharper; the cut of the wind against her neck, the scent of the couple lying in the road and the stench of the Skin-Eaters, all wrapped up with the perfumed aroma of the long grasses. Her pulse made it feel like electricity was pumping around her veins. She fastened her metal hand around the barrel again, feeling more confident with it as she realised it was working better than her own arm ever had.
The Skin-Eater came on top of them, mouth and arms open wide as it aimed for their heads. Both women brought their guns up and unloaded them into the creature’s head. It screamed and staggered backwards, using one clawed hand to clutch at what was left of its face. Between Freda’s bullet and Reilly’s shot, they had managed to blow away half of it, only one eye and part of its mouth and nose cavity remaining. It ran back towards them with a furious scream, sailing from left to right, its sense of balance gone. Freda took one careful shot to its form, and it finally collapsed in a twitching heap at the side of the field.
Turning their attention back to Harris, the two women were faced with the sight of the Skin-Eater almost victorious. It had flung Harris on his back, and he was using his gun to grapple its arms away from his face, his head twisted to one side as he gritted his teeth against the assault. Sweat dripped off his forehead. A pang of fear sliced into Freda as she saw how close he was to death, and she snapped the bolt back sharply on her rifle, raising it swiftly and taking aim. Her bullet barely grazed the top of the Skin-Eater’s back. It raised its head with a growl, looking over in her direction. Its white eyes sent her cold. “Over here!” she yelled, her legs trembling. She had fought Skin-Eaters before—and on her own—but these ones were different. Stronger. More intelligent.
Before she could finish her thought, the creature released Harris and flew towards her, pounding along the ground as it got ready to attack. Freda gave a war-cry and let off another shot, but the creature kept coming, barely registering the bullet embedded in its stomach. Panic snapped through her, her brain screaming at her to run, but she was rooted to the spot. What the hell? Run! Move! Frozen, with nothing to do but wait for death. Freda felt numb as she willed herself to move her arms, but only one of them reacted—her false limb. Just as the creature got close, the arm shot up in front of her face as it had done before, uselessly protecting her. Freda closed her eyes, unable to look death in the face. Not when it looked like a white-eyed Skin-Eater.
A shot rang out, somewhere close to her right ear, and then there was a thump that shook the ground near her feet.
The heavy breathing of the creature dulled to a croaking whine, and she dared to open her eyes. She let out a wavering breath as she scanned the brown grass near her boots, the head of the creature just within her vision. It was barely breathing, and already its strange eyes were turning glassy. Smoke emanated from a hole in its forehead, and its arms lay limp by its sides. She turned her head slowly, taking a swallow to coax saliva back into her dry mouth. Her head spun with light-headedness. Reilly stood by her side, gasping hard as she clutched her shotgun to her chest. Her pale blue eyes were trained on the beast lying on the ground. “I…I did it,” she breathed, her chest rising and falling with each word. “I shot it. In the head.”
“You bloody saved me,” Freda concluded with a sigh of relief, leaning forwards to rest her hands against her knees, letting her rifle fall to the ground for a moment as she tried to stop the thump starting near her temple. “I can’t believe I froze up like that. That’s never happened before.” She ran her tongue over her cracked lips.
“You saved me, too, so I guess everyone here is even, right?” Harris quipped, walking across slowly as he clutched his side. Blood was still seeping through, but it seemed to have slowed. He gave a wry half-grin. “We made it. Good story for the grandkids and all that.”
“You’re bleeding!” Reilly cried out, jabbing a finger at his wounds. She raised her face to his. “We have to get you to somewhere. Like another doctor, or something.”
“Nah. It’s not that deep. Just dig the bandages out of my rucksack, and I’ll get it wrapped up. I’ll just have to go easy for the rest of the way.”
As Reilly and Harris set about cleaning up his wounds, Freda turned her attention to the Skin-Eaters lying between the road and the field, snatching her weapon back up and slinging it onto her shoulder once more. She poked the head of the nearest one with her toe, staring down with crossed brows at its strange eyes. Putting it to the back of her mind for the time being, she shuffled past it and went over to the young couple. Her boots scraped against the grey asphalt surface as she looked down at them, trying to determine their age. They couldn’t have been more than in their early twenties, and she gave a sigh. It was such a waste of life, even if she had grown used to the sight of it. Wasteland or not, survival or not, it didn’t make it any easier to see a dead body and feel nothing.
Bending down, she reached into the pockets of the young woman’s jacket, feeling around. Even if she pitied their deaths, it didn’t mean she was about to let their supplies go to waste. Hell, she would want anyone else to do the same if she died. Her fingers wrapped around the edge of something hard and thin, and she pulled it free, lifting it into the light to take a closer look. Freda laughed out loud as she inspected the object, turning it over to reveal a shiny black casing on one side, imprinted with the logo of a barely-seen-anymore fruit. A mobile phone. Wow. I know people sometimes carry around reminders of the past, but it’s a long time since I’ve seen one of these. She chuckled to herself as she flipped it back. Freda could remember a few of these old-fashioned communication devices that older members of her bunker had brought with them, but they had soon been discarded when people realised the phone signals couldn’t get through anymore. She looked down at the young woman, her smile fading as she traced her eyes over mousey hair and a fawn-coloured gaze, staring impassively into space. Feeling as though taking something so personal was a step too far, she placed the device back into the woman’s pocket, moving onto the man. She found a couple of bullets and a pencil, tucking them both into the bag perched high on her back as she reached over for the knife she had seen glinting earlier on the road. She twisted it over a few times to gleam in the light, before tucking it into her boot in the place her old one had been.
Turning, Freda rose up and made her way back towards her companions, watching as Reilly bent over the smallest Skin-Eater who had come at them. She let out a cry, clapping a hand over her mouth as she p
ointed down at something around the creature’s neck. Quickening her pace, Freda rushed across to stand by Harris as he grunted against the pain from his side, now freshly bandaged up. She gave it a cursory glance, pleased to see that it appeared to no longer be leaking—Reilly had done a good job. She brought her attention back to the Skin-Eater before them, her hands clenched against her rifle strap. “Look,” Reilly whispered in a horror-stricken voice. “There’s a necklace around its neck. Like a tiny silver heart. Oh, god. I didn’t really believe you guys when you said they used to be people, but…oh, god. They really were, weren’t they? Once.” She turned eyes as blue and sad as the ocean to her two companions, her face white beneath the red pock marks.
Harris cleared his throat as he gazed down towards the necklace, nodding his assent. “Yeah, they were. But ‘once’ is the optimum word here. They’re not human anymore.” He eyes took on the familiar cold steel Freda was growing used to seeing. He obviously had a lot of pain he kept locked away behind his calmness. “So this is the kindest thing we can do for them, if they attack us. Put them out of their misery.”
Freda peered over her shoulder towards the couple lying in the road beside one of the Skin-Eaters, her heart sinking. She felt empty and numb inside. Just for that moment, she wished again that she believed in something beyond the pain and suffering of the wastes. That she could believe in some higher power ready to welcome them all home when they died. But it just wasn’t possible. Nothing that loved them would allow them to hurt themselves in this way. Unless it wanted them to, and what kind of deity was that to follow? Freda shook her head, her coat rustling as she moved. No, it’s better to focus on what happens now. Because when it’s over, it’s over. Nothing. Gone. The scent of the already rotting bodies came towards her again as the damp wind blew against her cheek, and she gagged against it. “Hey, uh…we should probably bury these or something. To stop any more of them turning up. With their creepy white eyes.” She pulled a face, repressing a shudder.
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