School is out and this is to be her last summer in this small town. Next year, she’ll enter her last year at high school and then she is gone. She’ll miss her close friends, but there is no way she is sticking around. Although she likes Tyrell, he has no plans beyond high school and she isn’t going to get trapped like she’s seen happen to so many others. Trish has plans and they don’t involve staying in this town. There is a whole world to explore and she is eager to get to it.
She isn’t sure at this point what exploring the world entails, only that she wants to with every fiber of her being. Several colleges and studies interest her, mostly along the lines of medical research. Her grades are good enough that she should be able to get into most places, but she’ll decide during the school year. The great thing about her best friend Katie is that she has the same ambitions. They’ve had discussions, serious ones, about going to college together. That’s one of the great things about growing up together. However, that’s for later. For now, there is the summer to enjoy…and enjoy it she will.
Shouts rise above the sound of the movie. Glancing toward the sound, Trish sees a group of people running into the drive-in lot from the exit off to the side near the front. She’s seen people trying to sneak in that way before, but this is the largest group she’s witnessed attempt it. And, they aren’t exactly trying to conceal themselves. As a matter of fact, with their running and screaming, they are doing the exact opposite.
Radiant light streams from the large screen, and she sees that there are about fifteen people in the group, pouring through an opening in the wooden fence that surrounds the lot.
“Who do you think that is?” Katie asks, looking intently at the intrusion.
“I don’t know, but they’re idiots for trying to get in that way. They’ll be kicked out in no time,” Trish answers, annoyed at the interruption of her evening.
Trish watches as the group runs to and surrounds the first line of cars parked near the front rows. Forgetting all about the movie, she watches as they begin slamming into the sides and banging their fists on the roofs and hoods.
“Trish? What are they doing? Are they…are they attacking the people in the cars?” Katie asks, mesmerized by the abruptness of the intrusion.
“I don’t know. It seems…well, it seems like it. We’d better start packing our gear just in case,” Trish answers, the blanket falling from her lap as she rises.
The shrieks grow louder and bodies dart amongst the cars in the flickering light. Folding her chair, Trish glimpses several silhouetted figures thrashing inside several cars. She pauses, shocked at the sight of someone being dragged from a driver’s side window. The occupant squirms in the grip of several from the group and is slowly pulled from the vehicle. Hitting the ground, the person is immediately swarmed by several shrieking attackers. Additional screams join in; those of panic and pain.
“Oh shit. Katie, move,” Trish yells, hopping over the side of the bed.
Katie remains seated in the lawn chair, transfixed by the scene unfolding several yards away.
“Katie…Katie!” Trish shouts.
Katie slowly turns her head, her hand to her mouth and face a mask of terror.
“We have to move now!” Trish shouts again.
Screams grow louder, filling the lot. Bright red lights begin appearing in places as some of the movie-goers start their vehicles. Many of the aisles between the cars begin filling with people running from tumult. Trish watches in horror as several are brought down by what she assumes are people who entered the drive-in and began attacking for no reason.
“Katie! Come on…please!”
Amongst the terrible screams and dim radiant lighting, Trish sees life flood back into Katie’s eyes. She rises quickly and jumps over the side. They both hurriedly begin grabbing things from the back and, opening the doors, toss them on the floor. Some of the vehicles that manage to get started race down the driveways between the rows of cars, their lights catching people running in panic.
There are so many people running about the lot, most heading toward the concrete-bricked snack house, that it’s hard to tell movie-goer from attacker. To Trish, they all look alike as she hurriedly throws a bag of something into the already cramped floor space.
Her heart is pounding and she feels like it’s going to come through her chest. Turning toward the front, where the movie is still playing, silhouetted figures fight and struggle with each other, looking like some strange dance. Looking toward the snack shop, Trish sees a small crowd huddled together just outside, watching. Some have expressions of curiosity, some with excitement at watching a brawl, others look on with fright.
One breaks away from the ongoing fight and begins running toward the truck. With the lights of the projector beaming directly at the figure, Trish sees its eyes glow. She feels a spike in her heart as adrenaline and fear run through her. Sheer terror strikes deeply within, almost stealing her breath away.
“Fuck the rest of this shit, Katie. They’re coming this way,” she bellows in fear. “Get in.”
“No…No…NO! Trish, I dropped the keys and can’t find them! Trish, I can’t find them! I can’t find them!” Katie yells, pawing at the darkened ground.
With the one streaking their way, but still rows away, Trish runs around the hood, panic gripping her. Rounding the front, she only sees Katie’s arms and legs below the open door, probing the ground for the missing keys. A glint catches Trish’s eye just under the truck. Running past the door, a body slams into Katie’s bent-over figure. Her friend is pushed hard into the open door, falling to the ground with the attacker shrieking on top.
Trish yelps in surprise and takes a step backward. She stares, stunned, as the attacker begins clawing at Katie, who is screaming in panic and fighting as best as she can. All Trish sees are Katie’s arms as she tries to ineffectually keep her attacker at bay. Not really knowing what she is doing, Trish steps forward and tries to grab the man’s arms to keep him from hurting her friend.
“Let her go,” she cries, hearing Katie’s screams grow weaker.
Unable to get a firm hold on the snarling man’s arms, she begins pummeling his back with all of her strength. All else is driven from her awareness as she focuses on freeing her friend. There is only the snarling, Katie’s whimpers, and her own yells.
The man turns his head quickly, looking directly at Trish. His pale face and eyes don’t look right. The eyes are filled with a deep-set anger that wants to do nothing more than hurt. Several deep scratches along his cheeks ooze blood, which streams down his cheeks and joins with dark smears around his mouth. Blood slowly drips off his chin in long strings. With a quickness that takes Trish unaware, the man lunges upward at her and knocks her backward. Her breath is forcefully expelled as she is slammed into the rocky ground.
Trish feebly waves her arms trying to fend off the man’s arms as they claw at her. She feels a burning along her ribs and stomach as he rips at her dress, tearing the fabric in places. Her throat burns from the intensity of her screams, both from pain and outright fear. She looks at the shadowed face just a short distance away, lunging toward her face as he continues clawing at her.
The growling weight on top of her suddenly vanishes. One moment, there was his face darting toward hers, then a blur of movement, and he is gone. Lying stunned for a moment, she looks to her side. Another man is wrestling on the ground with her assailant. Trish and the man who saved her lock eyes for a moment.
“Go!” he yells, turning back to the fight.
Scrambling to her feet, she feels a burning sensation from the scratches along her front, but it is quickly pushed into the background. Katie is slowly standing, pulling herself up by the door with trembling arms. Even in the dim lighting, Trish sees blood splattered on Katie’s face and streaming down her neck.
“Hurry, get in,” Trish says, helping her friend the rest of the way up and into the truck.
Reaching down to grab the keys, Trish climbs quickly into the truck, her body achi
ng everywhere and feeling like it’s on fire. Slamming the door closed, she barely notices the continued shrieks filling the drive-in. With shaking hands, she finds the right key and inserts it. In the rearview mirror, several others are running her way.
“Close the door, Katie,” she yells, turning the engine over.
“I don’t feel so well,” Katie mumbles.
“Katie! Close…The…Door!”
Katie doesn’t move, then slumps down in her seat toward Trish. With a quick look outside, Trish sees her attacker rise, her rescuer unmoving on the ground next to the front wheel of the adjacent vehicle. Without a further thought, she jams the truck into gear and reaches out to grab hold of Katie. Stomping on the gas pedal, the rear tires throw chunks of gravel into the pickups behind.
The truck lurches into the aisle and she quickly turns the steering wheel, sending the truck into a skid. The passenger door bangs shut with the turn. Sliding from side to side, the pickup rights itself and they dart forward. Turning at the end of the aisle, Trish makes for the exit.
As she speeds down the dirt lane, Trish looks to the side. Several bodies lie unmoving, some in the aisles, others barely visible sticking out from the parked cars. Figures race past the cars toward the snack shop where frightened movie-goes huddle near the entrances. Several take off as the attacking group moves closer. The movie Trish didn’t really care about still plays on the large screen.
Exiting the drive-in, the side mirror clips one of the fence posts as Trish turns onto the entrance road. Scared and still in shock, she watches as three state patrol cars race down an adjacent highway, their lights strobing through the dark night and sirens blaring. Other than some vehicles parked on the side of the freeway, her truck and the police cars are the only vehicles in sight – and the state troopers are only visible for a brief moment as they race to wherever they were called. Driving down the road, Trish is a little confused that they would be heading anywhere else but the drive-in.
Surely someone called that in. What could be more important than a group attacking and killing others in the drive-in?
With Katie slumped in the front bench seat and moaning, Trish pushes her fear and other thoughts aside. Her only focus is to get her friend to the hospital. Even though they had stopped taking in people with the flu several days ago, they will surely still be open for emergencies.
Reaching the turn onto the freeway, she points the truck northbound, toward where the lights from the police cars are still flashing in the distance, and the hospital. As she accelerates, she notes the headlights from several vehicles racing down the opposite lanes. A couple of the cars pull over to the side of the road and Trish watches as figures emerge from within, many leaning against their vehicles as if exhausted. Then, they are gone as she speeds down the road.
In the distance, the three state patrol cars take the first exit into town and several other vehicles enter the highway from the opposite onramp. Even in her excited state of mind, she realizes that she’s the only car heading into town; other than the state troopers. As she passes the exit, she sees that one of the police cars has pulled across the exit blocking it.
A few minutes later, she passes the second exit into town noting that it, too, is blocked by a police car with flashing lights. If her friend wasn’t lying in the seat in need of medical attention, she’d pull over and tell the policeman or woman about the attack happening at the drive-in. As it is, she climbs the hill to the exit leading to the hospital, leaving the blue lights flashing in the darkness behind.
As with the other exits, a patrol is parked across the ramp. It’s obvious that something big is happening, but she doesn’t associate it with what happened at the drive-in. Slowing, she pulls onto the exit and stops next to an officer holding his hand out. Trish rolls down the window.
“Ma’am, this ramp is closed. You’ll have to turn around and head back,” the officer states.
“But my friend is hurt. She needs to get to the hospital,” Trish pleads.
“I’m sorry. I think the hospital is closed anyway. You’ll have to turn around.”
“She’s really hurt. Surely the hospital is still open for emergencies.”
“I don’t think it is. Even if it is, your friend will more than likely have a long wait,” the officer says.
“I don’t care about that. She needs to be seen,” Trish says, feeling scared for her friend. “She was hurt at the drive-in when a bunch of people started attacking for no reason.”
Katie moans next to her. The officer leans into the window, his face silhouetted in shadow from the flashing lights and streetlights ahead.
“Is that your blood or your friend’s?” the officer asks, nodding toward the blood splotches on her torn dress.
“I…I don’t know,” Trish answers, looking down at the stains on her dress.
“Were you hurt, ma’am?”
“I was attacked, yes.”
“You say this happened at the drive-in?”
“Yeah. A bunch of people came in the exit and just started attacking the others in their cars. They pulled them out and started beating on them,” Trish replies.
“Okay, hang on,” the officer states and proceeds to report the event, talking into a microphone at his shoulder.
He walks around the truck and opens the passenger door. In the dim light from the overhead interior light, Trish sees blood on Katie’s face and her neck covered in red. Blood seeps from several deep scratches and gouges; a large one on her neck is still bleeding and has soaked into the cloth seat.
The policeman withdraws to his vehicle and opens the trunk, returning with a first aid kit which he opens on the seat next to Katie. Withdrawing several bandages, he folds and presses them against the deeper gouge.
“You’ll need to keep pressure on this,” he says. “Keep pressing tight, but not enough to block the arteries.”
“Okay…okay. But she needs a hospital,” Trish responds, her hand replacing the officers. Trish feels the heat emanating through the gauze which quickly becomes saturated.
“I can’t, ma’am. It’s too dangerous and I couldn’t in all good consciousness let you into town. You’ll need to keep replacing the bandage and you may want to use a small towel when you get her home, which I suggest you do right away,” the officer says.
Trish can hear the concern in his voice and that he really would like to help.
What’s going on?
“What about my parents? I live in town and they’re sick. I need to get to them,” Trish pleads once again.
“We’re telling everyone to stay indoors. If that’s where they are, and they should be if they’re ill, they’ll be okay. Does your friend live in town?”
“No, she lives out Lynch road,” Trish answers.
“Then I suggest you take her there. This will more than likely settle down by morning. If your friend hasn’t improved by then, bring her back. Stop the bleeding, clean her up, put some antiseptic on the wounds, and let her rest. That’s the best I can offer.”
“What’s going on?”
“Sorry, I can’t answer that. Now, your friend needs your help and I need you to clear out of here. There’s no traffic so back down the ramp and turn around,” the officer says, closing the door.
Fear grips Trish and she feels the burning from her own wounds. The officer heads back to his car.
“What about your first aid kit?” Trish yells out of her open window.
“Keep it. I wish you and your friend the best,” he states, turning his shadowed gaze toward town.
Trish hears what sounds like faint screaming drifting on the night air from the direction of the Walmart and Fred Meyer, reminding her of those she heard at the movie. Dread sets in thinking that this is more widespread than just the drive-in.
Removing her hand from the soaked bandage, she puts the truck in reverse and backs down the ramp. Turning around, she makes her way back toward the movie theater while holding pressure against Katie’s neck as best she can.
As she passes the cars, she thinks of telling them about the attacks, but Katie’s moaning and the feel of sticky blood on her hand takes priority. She passes two more police cars that streak by in the other lanes. Reaching the turnoff, she drives up the country road, her headlights illuminating trees on both sides.
Her shock has mostly worn off. She now feels cold and thoroughly scared. Katie hasn’t wakened enough to sit up or help herself. After a few minutes of negotiating the winding road, she pulls into Katie’s driveway. The headlights shine on the front of the darkened house, which surprises Trish. Katie’s parents are night owls, meaning that there were usually lights on most anytime Trish came over. She knows Katie’s parents are sick, like her own, so maybe they just turned in early. The truck lights shining on the open front door give her pause. With what the evening has held and what she’s been through, anything out of the ordinary makes her extremely nervous. Parking the truck so the lights shine on the house, she exits.
“Hello,” she shouts. “Mister and Misses Trendle? It’s Trish.”
There’s no reply and the only sound is that of the idling truck. The dried blood on her dress sticks to her skin and pulls on her wounds as she cautiously walks to the front door. She knows she should be holding the bandage on Katie’s wounds, but she can’t get her friend inside by herself. With no one coming to the door, or any lights flickering on to show that her arrival has been noticed, she needs to check and see if Katie’s parents are inside.
The house and surrounding property are enclosed in shadow with only the headlight beams breaking the darkness. To her, the open door seems ominous and reminds of the too many horror shows she’s seen. If this were a movie, she’d be mentioning how stupid the characters were for venturing forth into the darkened house. However, she steps up onto the porch and peeks in the door.
A New World: Untold Stories Page 13