A bang on the front doors made them all jump. Muffled voices from outside could be heard now. They couldn’t make out the words, but no one needed to hear them to know what was being said: Run. I’m sorry. I don’t want to. The mantra of the mournful killers.
Garbarino slid to a stop and put down his gas tank. “Five tanks. Maybe twenty-five gallons.” He took out the flares. “We can use these to set the fire.”
“What about him?” Chang asked, motioning to the sanctuary when pastor Billy wailed in anguish before searching for bits of protein bar.
“Way I see it,” Austin said. “If he’s like the others, he’ll come back. No harm done. If he’s like us, and stays dead, well, I think it’d be the merciful thing to do.”
When no one argued, he said, “Everyone take a tank. Pour the gas around the perimeter, then down the aisles. Leave the area around the back door clear. Keep a full tank in the center aisle.”
“What are you going to do?” Mia asked.
“The foyer,” he said, taking the flares from Garbarino. “I want you all to take up positions on the balcony. When I come running, shoot anything you think is too close.”
“What do you mean, come running?” Mia asked, crossing her arms.
He stood and took her by the shoulders, looking in her eyes. “Someone has to get their attention. Traps only work with something inside.”
She regarded him for a moment. Out of all of them, he was the best. If he died, they’d be lost. But the truth couldn’t be denied. Someone needed to be the bait. And if any of them was ready to die, as much as she hated to think that way, it was him, the man born to die for others. She picked up one of the gas cans and pushed into the sanctuary. “Let’s move.”
The group quickly broke up, dousing the sanctuary and the foyer in gasoline. Once finished, Chang took up a position on the balcony nearest the front entrance. Collins stood near the back, keeping watch out one of the windows. Mia, Liz and Garbarino stood opposite Chang, ready to cover Austin. “We’re ready!” Mia shouted.
“All right,” Austin replied. “No matter what you hear, do not leave the balcony. Do not come down.”
“Copy that, boss,” Garbarino shouted in reply, his words punctuated by pastor Billy’s continuous vomiting.
In the foyer, Austin looked at his handy work. The large open space was covered in two large puddles of gasoline. The hardwood floor beneath would keep the flames burning long after the gasoline was consumed. A single dry patch of floor ran down the center of the foyer toward the sanctuary doors.
Austin chambered a round in his weapon as he approached the door. He had thirteen rounds and a single spare clip left. When they’d run from Paul in the dry riverbed he’d left behind his other gun. They’d also lost all three MP5s—which would have come in very handy now—and one of the shotguns. Between them they had four handguns, two shotguns and a shit-load of gasoline.
Against an army, Austin thought. An army that can’t die.
He took a deep breath, let it out slowly and placed his hands against the doors. He shook the door hard and shouted, “I’m in here you sons-a-bitches!” He pounded on the wood and shook the door again.
But there was no response.
He shifted to the side and looked out the window. Just inches from his face, staring back at him, was Paul Byers. “I’m sorry,” Paul shouted back through the door. Then the shaking began. All six doors shook.
Collins’s voice echoed out of the sanctuary. “They’re leaving the back door! It’s working!”
The banging intensified.
“C’mon!” Austin shouted, but was starting to wonder if the horde of killers could break through the sturdy doors.
When the banging stopped, he wondered if he’d have to actually unlock the doors for them. He looked out the window again. Paul was gone, but a body, back to the door, blocked his view.
He pounded on the door. “What are you waiting for!”
A roar like a fog horn struck him and sent him down to one knee. Recovering quickly, he stood just as the man outside stepped to the side.
Henry Masters rocketed toward the door like a cruise missile. His chest shook as he ran; making the Eagle tattoo flap its wings. His cheekless mouth hung open, trailing drool.
Austin dove away from the door and sprinted down the landing strip of dry floor. Three seconds later Henry Masters hit the front doors.
35
“Get under him!” Tom Austin shouted to his ten year old brother.
“I am!”
Austin slipped beneath the pool water, the weight of his unconscious, naked father pulling him deeper. At eight years old, Austin had never rescued a drowning victim before. But it wasn’t just inexperience fighting against him. While his father weighed barely over one fifty, his dead weight made slick from the water seemed determined to slide to the pool’s bottom.
Austin saw his older brother, John, on the other side of their father, struggling to get a grip. Though John was two years older, and much stronger, his will was the weaker of the two. So when their father had passed out by the pool and slid over the side, his twelfth beer rolling away on the deck, John had screamed frantically for help while Austin leapt in after him. It wasn’t until Austin had ordered him in the pool that John had thought to help.
It was night, and the faint spotlight outside the house didn’t provide much visibility under the water. But when they reached the bottom, John saw Austin’s outstretched fingers counting down from three and knew what he intended.
Three.
The boys took hold of their father’s shoulders, gripping so tight that the bruises wouldn’t fade for weeks.
Two.
Tom planted his feet firm against the bottom of the pool, ignoring the burn in his small chest.
One.
The door exploded.
The force of the impact sent a portion of the hard door flying into Tom’s back. He spilled forward and slid to a stop within the strip of foyer floor that wasn’t covered in gasoline. He struggled to his knees and looked back over his shoulder, wondering why Masters hadn’t yet pummeled him into oblivion.
The giant man stood there, rubbing at his eyes, irritated and confused. Some part of the door, or part of the now missing wall above it, had gotten in his eyes.
Austin wasn’t sure what made him think about his father’s near drowning—the event that propelled him on a career of life-saving—in those seconds before Masters struck the door, but the memory of it, the feeling of absolute desperation and fear did for him now what it had done for him as a child. He acted fast, without thought, but with utter clarity. He jumped to his feet and ran for the sanctuary.
The sound of his feet slamming on the hard wood snapped Masters’s attention back to Austin. He let out a roar and charged. With his body no longer blocking the opening to the outside, the horde flooded into the sanctuary, screaming apologies and the words of the horrified. Many of the first to arrive slipped on the gasoline and fell. Those that followed tripped over their bodies. But the flow never stopped, and for every one slowed by the slick floor, five continued in pursuit of Austin, hot on the heels of Masters.
Austin flew through the sanctuary door. The scent of gasoline rose up from the floor. The rug squished beneath every step. Seeing the full gas can ahead, he raised his weapon and fired a single shot into it. Gasoline began to chug from the side of the tank. He leapt over the tank, unlit flare in hand.
“Hit him with everything you’ve got!” Austin shouted. He hadn’t looked to see where everyone was, but he knew they were there, waiting. And when Masters crashed through the sanctuary doors, gunfire ripped through the air.
Austin slid to a stop at the bottom of the ramp, just before the stairs to the stage.
“How dare you! This is a house of God!” Pastor Billy shrieked from his spot on the floor. His stomach convulsed, but he held a building retch down.
Masters raised his large hands in front of his ruined face and staggered back for a moment. The gas
tank lay five feet in front of him.
Close enough, Austin decided. “You were right about the flames of hell,” he said, looking back at Pastor Billy. “But you were wrong about who was going to burn.” He struck the flare on his thigh. Red sparks burst from its top.
“No!” shouted the emaciated pastor.
Austin threw the flare. It spun through the air, leaving a twirling trail of smoke behind it. After striking Masters square in the chest, the flare fell to his feet. Flames followed, shooting out to either side, following the gasoline soaked perimeter of the sanctuary and straight down the center aisle toward the stage.
The blaze followed the gasoline to the tank with the bullet hole in it, but the tank didn’t explode. It simply continued chugged out flaming liquid. In that moment, Austin knew the distraction might not be enough to stop Masters. The horde, on the other hand, found themselves engulfed as the fire reached the foyer. But they never stopped moving, even as their bodies were reduced to ash. New waves of killers filled the foyer, screeching in agony as their bodies fueled the flames that would devour the next surge.
Masters roared, sending everyone in the room to their knees. Trapped inside the sanctuary, which had been designed to amplify sound, the roar was as painful as the flames licking up Masters’s legs.
“Get out of this house!” Pastor Billy shouted. “You have violated sacred ground!”
The voice drew Masters’s attention. The giant man saw the pastor, and then Austin. He took one step toward them when a shotgun opened fire from the balcony. The shots were wild and mostly ineffective, but one solid shot to Masters’s shoulder stole his attention long enough for Austin to make a dash toward the exit just as the blaze reached his feet.
Austin looked up and saw Chang leaning over the balcony railing, unloading all eight shots in her shotgun. She pumped it twice after running out of ammo, and then dropped it.
“Get out of there, Chang!” Austin shouted. If the girl didn’t start for the exit now, she might not make it before Masters. The flames were slowing and distracting him for sure, but the giant had followed them this far. Austin doubted he would give up.
As Chang turned to run, Austin saw Masters duck down into the fire for a moment. When he came back up, his whole arm was on fire. He had picked up the fiery gas tank. Austin guessed what was coming next and opened his mouth to shout a warning, but Masters roared again.
Austin fell to his knees, but managed to keep an eye on Chang as he fell. A moment later, the gas can shot through the air, a massive Molotov cocktail.
“Chang!” Mia shouted as she reached the door with Elizabeth. “Get do—”
The gas can struck the railing in front of Chang and burst. Gasoline sprayed out from the impact and ignited. Chang’s body was drenched in cold liquid one second and then an inferno the next. A single scream shot from the flames and then she dropped to the floor.
Masters roared again as they reached the exit, sending them all down. The giant strode down the aisle, his body on fire and twitching in pain. But not stopping.
Pastor Billy, surrounded by fire, saw him coming like a demon from hell and somehow managed to get to his feet. The man’s cape had started to burn, but he paid no attention to it as he faced down the giant.
“Abomination!” Pastor Billy shouted at Masters. “You dare enter this house! The house of J—” The pastor seemed unable to speak. Masters climbed onto the stage and stood over Billy, looking down at him, oblivious to the crackling of his burning flesh.
“This is the house of the Lord J—”
Again, the pastor found himself unable to speak.
“I cast you out in the name of J—”
Masters raised his fists.
The stage succumbed to the flames and burst into fire.
Pastor Billy screamed.
The giant fists descended together like a wrecking ball. The pastor’s body crumpled beneath the impact. But Masters didn’t stop there. He picked up the ruined body and began pulling it apart, smashing it on the burning floor, stomping it into sludge.
Austin urged the others out the back door, watching the scene as they fled into the woods. The grassy space behind the church was free of killers, but Austin could still hear them screaming in the foyer. He didn’t know if they could survive the flames, but he doubted all of them would die before realizing the group had slipped out the back. When that happened, the hunt would continue.
Masters turned toward him. Their eyes met. The monstrous man stopped, ignoring the crackle of his burning flesh and pointed at Austin. “Peace,” the man said, his voice a growl. He took one step toward Austin and the stage collapsed beneath him. He howled as he dropped through the floor, flames and sparks launching clear up to the high ceiling above.
Austin turned to the exit and stepped outside. The ninety degree heat outside felt cool compared to the church turned furnace. He saw the others disappear into the forest, but a voice turned him around.
“I’m sorry!”
Austin stepped back inside. “Chang?”
He saw Chang then, still burning, but oblivious to her charred condition. She charged around the balcony, headed for the staircase that led to the exit. Flames covered her body, but her lungs and voice, somehow still worked.
But she was no longer Chang.
She was one of them.
“Run!” Chang shouted. “I don’t want to hurt you!”
And Austin ran, as fast as he could, before the human torch previously known as Stephanie Chang embraced him or Masters found a way out of the fiery pit.
36
The woods behind the burning church were thick, but the combination of the heat lightning-filled sky and the immense burning church behind them lit the area like the sun. The light on their backs as they hopped over fallen trees and large rocks made them easy to see. The cracking of dry branches beneath their feet and the sounds of their panicked shouting voices made them easy to hear, even over the roar of the blaze.
The fiery form of Chang, racing into the woods behind them, drew the attention of the killers still outside the church. She was a beacon. Impossible to miss. The horde swarmed behind her.
Like a school of fish changing direction as one, the mass of screaming people gathered at the side of the church, turned and followed. The shift made its way around to the front of the building until even those burning inside the foyer reversed direction and gave chase, still smoldering.
Garbarino ran ahead of the others, his feet carrying him swiftly down the wooded hillside. As a boy he had called it bunny hopping—the ability to sprint through the woods, avoiding obstacles with ease and never slowing down. After he and his friends set several traps along the walking paths, which older and meaner kids sometimes fell victim to, bunny hopping became an art form. It helped him escape several beatings as a kid. His skills took him fifty feet ahead of the others before he realized he was leaving them behind.
But Austin noticed. “Give us some cover, Garbarino!” he shouted down the hill.
The horde of killers behind them did nothing to conceal their pursuit. They crashed through dead trees. They screamed and hollered in horror. And several of them were on fire, including Chang, who still led the pack.
Garbarino stopped at the bottom of the hill and looked back, and then forward again, as though debating whether or not he should leave them behind.
“I don’t want to do it!” Chang shouted.
She wasn’t far behind now. Collins and Elizabeth slowed them down and Austin wasn’t about to leave them behind.
“Garbarino!” Austin shouted again, but then Garbarino did the unthinkable.
He left.
I’ll kill the son-of-a-bitch! Austin thought. “Faster!” he shouted at Collins, giving him a shove before stopping, wheeling around and firing two shots. The first round found Chang’s chest. She pitched forward, but didn’t stop. Her head snapped back as the second round struck and she fell to the ground. Her flaming form hit the dry foliage of the forest floor. The
fire spread fast, reaching out in all directions. The dried trees went up like torches. Thick gray smoke rose up like a curtain, blocking Austin’s view of the approaching swarm.
Beyond the wall of fire and smoke, a roar exploded into the air. Henry Masters was free. A thunderous cracking followed as the church finally imploded. A cloud of orange glowing embers danced into the sky, hauntingly beautiful with the heat-lightning backdrop.
Austin turned and ran again.
Mia saw Garbarino leave and was as confused as Austin was angry. After all they’d been through, she didn’t think he would leave them to die, but what they’d just seen could put anyone over the edge.
“What happened to Stephanie?” Liz asked, her eyes vacant of emotion.
For a moment, Mia wondered who Stephanie was, but then remembered that it was Chang’s first name. “She’s dead, honey.” Mia surprised herself with her honesty. It was such a cold thing to say, but Liz deserved the truth. She’d come to realize that anything less in this new world could get her killed.
“But I can still hear her,” the girl said.
That was one truth Mia wished she could ignore. “I know.” As she reached the bottom of the hill, she searched for Garbarino. At first she couldn’t see him, but then he rose up in the distance, across a field, waving his arms.
His voice barely reached her. “Follow the path!”
She didn’t know how she’d missed it, but a slender path cut through the tall, brittle grass. The sky lit up with a burst of heat lighting and she saw it reflected on the ground beyond Garbarino. Not ground, she thought, water.
Collins reached them, sucking hard, clutching his chest. But there was no time to ask him if he felt okay. She pointed at the path and said, “Follow that to Garbarino.”
As Collins ran, Mia looked back up the hill. Austin ran toward her, a wall of fire spread out in the forest behind him. She wasn’t sure how Austin had done it, but the fire seemed to have stopped the murderous crowd.
TORMENT - A Novel of Dark Horror Page 18