by Crae, Edward
Toby wondered why, but didn’t ask. Instead, he wedged the pry bar underneath the board across his lap and pulled down on it. With a squeak, the nail began coming loose. Toby strained against it, grunting and gritting his teeth with the effort. Finally, it came loose, and the board could now be moved. Keeping it lifted, he swung it forward and pulled his knees up to his chest.
He moved his tray to the side and stood, stepping out of the hole. Where he was sitting were more hardwood boards. There was just enough space between the two layers to fit his legs.
“Go out the door,” Maynard said.
Toby pictured the monster standing outside, and was frightened.
“Don’t worry,” Maynard said. “It’s safe.”
Hesitantly, Toby went for the door. He grabbed the lever, slowly pulling it down. He pulled it open, staring into the dimly lit hallway. There were scratching and gurgling noises that made his skin crawl. Though he had to pee badly, he was reluctant to step out.
“Go ahead,” Maynard said. “Go to the right.”
Toby poked his head out the door, looking left and right. To the left, there was an archway on the opposite wall that led to a dark room. To the right, the hallway ended at a door about ten feet from where he was. There was a shuffler standing near it, the same one who had brought him the tray. She stood there, gurgling and swaying slightly.
“Don’t be afraid of her,” Maynard said. “She won’t harm you. Her name is Sarah.”
Sarah? Toby thought. Who names a monster?
He stepped out, moving down the hallway pressed against the wall. He didn’t want to get too close to Sarah, regardless of what Maynard had said. As he passed her, she gazed at him with those dead eyes. They moved with him, as if she could see him, but didn’t care.
“She’ll last about another month or so before she becomes a rager,” Maynard said. “Until then, she’s harmless.”
That explained why the shufflers were becoming more aggressive. They were all the same—the moldy ones—they start out as shufflers, then evolve into… ragers, as Maynard called them. That made sense. But Toby wondered about the dead ones. Maybe he could ask Maynard.
Later.
He opened the door at the end of the hall. A lantern on the counter revealed a toilet, and sink, and a mirror. Everything seemed clean and tidy. Even the white porcelain toilet was spot-free and shiny.
He went over it and lifted the lid. Inside, it was spotless. Taking one last look around, he unzipped his pants and let loose. The tinkling was loud, and Maynard could evidently hear him.
“Teedly-dee-dee-deeeeee,” Maynard sang.
The little ditty gave Toby the creeps, but he kept peeing until he was empty.
“Don’t forget to flush,” Maynard said.
Toby reached out and flushed the toilet. Behind him, the shuffler moaned for a second, as if startled, but then settled down and continued her cooing.
“Now,” Maynard said. “Go down the hall and go into the room on the right.”
Toby squeezed by Sarah again, and then ran the rest of the way to the archway. The room inside was dark, except for a dimly lit lantern near the door. He turned the key at its base to lengthen the wick, and the room became brighter. There was a small couch, a rack of firewood, another fireplace, and a wooden desk and chair.
“The firewood is for you,” Maynard said. “Don’t let the fireplaces go out or you’ll freeze. On the couch you will find a blanket and a pillow. Use them as you need them. Until then, you should finish your dinner.”
Toby didn’t look forward to trying to sleep with a shuffler in the same space. Regardless of him knowing her name—if that even was her name—it still scared him. She smelled strange, too, like the black slimy mildew that grew in dirty showers. It was a very unpleasant smell that made him think of the locker room in gym class, or laundry that had been left in the washer, forgotten and stinking.
Nevertheless, Toby went back to the other room and grabbed his tray. He carried it back to the couch and sat down, placing the tray on his lap. Still spooked and confused, he finished the apple and the cheese, washing it down with the glass of water. He then set the tray on the floor and laid down on the couch. He lay still for a while, terrified and homesick.
He missed his mom. He missed Dan and the others. He wished his mom was here to tuck him in. But instead, he would have to do it himself, and he did. He reached down and pulled the blanket over him, laying his head on the pillow. The blanket smelled clean, like good, expensive fabric softener had been used on it. It reminded him of home.
Against his better judgment he closed his eyes, pulling the blanket over his head. It felt safe that way, but still he couldn’t hold back his tears. Underneath the blanket, in a dark and frightening room, Toby wept for his mother.
He wanted to go home.
A groaning sound awoke Toby an unknown amount of time later. He stayed underneath the blanket, afraid to look. He knew something was standing near him, and the thought terrified him. Maybe if he stayed covered up, the monsters wouldn’t see him. He could hear the floor creak, as if something nearby were shifting its balance from one foot to the other. Curious, yet still terrified, he peeked out.
Sarah stood in front of the couch. He saw her dress, and smelled her mildew scent. He lowered the blanket, slowly looking up at her horrid face. She was expressionless, but moaning louder than usual. She was, evidently, trying to wake him up.
“Toby,” Maynard’s voice sounded from nowhere, again. “I want to show you something. Follow Sarah.”
Sarah turned clumsily toward the dark corner on the left side of the fireplace and began shuffling her way over there. Toby sat up, slipped on his shoes, and followed. She went slowly, staggeringly, but managed to get there eventually. There was a sliding noise, and the shadows opened up into a well-lit hallway.
Toby followed her in, glancing around at the wall-mounted lanterns that lined the hall. She turned left after entering, and Toby stayed behind her, careful not to disturb her. He peeked around her, seeing several other shufflers standing motionless along either side. As Toby passed them, they glanced at him, uninterested. Still, their presence was disturbing, and he had to hold back the urge to shut his eyes.
Sarah stopped at the end and stepped aside. There was a door there, with a lever-type handle. Sarah stood motionless, swaying in place as usual. Toby was confused.
“Open the door, Toby,” Maynard said.
Toby reluctantly reached out and pushed the lever down. The door unlatched and squeaked open a ways. He pulled it open and stepped through. To his right, there was a stairway leading down. The area below was also well lit, and flickered with the light of several lanterns.
He took one look back at Sarah. She had nothing to offer.
“Go on down,” Maynard said. Toby still wondered where his voice was coming from.
He crept down the stairs, keeping his eyes to the right as the wall opened up and turned into a railing. Below, he could see what looked like a long, wide room with a vaulted ceiling. There were lanterns everywhere, and each wall was lined with three large, square containers made of brick, with curtains covering their fronts. Underneath, Toby could see the faint glow of white light, as if each container had a fluorescent light inside.
He stood motionless, unsure of what to do. He was frightened of what could be in the containers, or if whatever they contained could get out and eat him. Though Sarah seemed harmless, as Maynard said she was, he wasn’t sure about anything else.
“Go to the first container on your left,” Maynard said.
“What’s in there?” Toby asked.
“You’ll see,” Maynard replied. “Don’t worry. You’ll be safe.”
Toby timidly stepped forward, slowly making his way toward the container. The closer he got, the more terrified he was—and the more intense the sounds became inside the container. He stopped when he heard a sniffing sound, and the banging of flesh on glass. Something inside knew he was there. Scared as he was, May
nard said he would be safe, and Maynard had been truthful so far.
He continued toward it, stopping in front of it. His heart raced with anticipation and terror, but he trusted what Maynard had said.
“Open the curtains,” Maynard said.
Toby’s teeth chattered. He clenched and unclenched his fists. He didn’t want to see what was inside.
“Go ahead,” Maynard said. “It can’t hurt you.”
Scrunching up his face, Toby stepped forward and grabbed hold of both curtains. He closed his eyes and spread them, and was immediately jolted by a loud impact against the glass. He stepped back quickly, opening his eyes. Inside was a shambler, or rager as Maynard had called it.
It growled and gnashed its teeth, clawing at the glass that kept it inside. Toby glared at it as he froze. It was a horrible sight; covered in large clumps of fungus, blackened and lacerated skin, and with red eyes that burned blindly. Its teeth were yellow and cracked, and greenish mucus ran out of almost every orifice.
It lips were pressed against the glass and pulled back tight, revealing its horrid teeth, and its greenish tongue which licked the glass. Toby felt the bile build in his gut, but he held it back, not wanting to puke on the floor.
“This is Johnny,” Maynard said. “He was once like Sarah. Now he is uncontrollable. My previous methods of treatment were a failure, and I was unable to stop Johnny’s progression to this next stage of development.”
Toby was speechless, and completely confused. Were shufflers and shamblers the same? Is that what Maynard was saying?
“I named him Johnny because he looked like John Stamos when I found him. Do you know who John Stamos is, Toby?”
“No.”
Maynard chuckled briefly. “Well, that was before your time, I suppose.”
Toby continued staring at the creature as it thrashed and banged against the glass. Toby almost felt sorry for it, but not really. It was a horrible thing, and it was horrible to keep it in a cage. Not that Toby cared for its well-being, but it was dangerous to keep it. It could get out and hurt somebody.
“I see you don’t like Johnny much,” Maynard said.
Toby shook his head. “It’s a monster,” he said. “You should kill it.”
“I see.”
There was a brief silence. Toby wondered if Maynard was going to do something to kill it, or if he would simply let it remain alive and caged.
“Maybe I’ll kill it later,” Maynard said. “Once I’m done with it. In the meantime, go to the cage directly behind you.”
Toby turned around. The cage behind him was covered in curtains just like the first one. Toby went to it, standing in wait. Inside, there was a deep and rumbling growl.
“Open the curtains.”
Toby scowled, but stepped forward and pulled open the curtains. Inside was another creature, larger and more aggressive-looking than the rager. It immediately charged the glass, impacting it with such force, Toby feared the glass would break. The creature was covered with an even greater amount of fungus clumps; so much so that its face was unrecognizable. It was simply a lumpy, hard shell of fungus with a crack where the mouth would be. There were no eyes, and no nose, only the armored surface of the mold.
“This is what the ragers eventually become,” Maynard said. “When I first found him, Julian here was like Johnny; just a rager. They’re blind, you see, so they are easy to catch if you’re smart and careful. But Julian is now another kind of thing. This is the last stage before they go into another state, that is, if they haven’t succumbed to the spore sack.”
“Spore sack?” Toby asked.
“Yes,” Maynard said. “Sometimes the shufflers as you call them will grow a spore sack inside them. When that happens, they burst, and then they die. What comes out is a big floating sack of mold spores; spores of the mutated fungus that fell from the sky.”
“Mutated fungus?”
“Yes, Toby,” Maynard said. “Our friend, the comet, left a nice gift for us in the atmosphere. Some of it infected a kind of fungus that was floating in the sky, and that fungus fell to the ground, mutated, and became this strange and mind-controlling thing. The rest of the nice gift simply infected life on its own, either killing it completely, or causing the mutations you are about to see.”
“But there are dead people, too,” Toby said. “Dead people that came back to life before the big explosion.”
“Yes, yes,” Maynard said. “I have not had a chance to study them completely, but I can say for certain that they did not simply come back to life. Something made them come back to life. That something, I believe, you will see soon enough.”
“What will happen to Julian?” Toby asked, somewhat interested.
“Ah,” Maynard said with a satisfied voice. “I am so glad you are interested. This means your fear is subsiding. Is that correct? Are you still afraid, Toby?”
Toby wasn’t sure. He was definitely apprehensive, freaked out, and scared of what he might be shown. But there was something inside him that said Maynard would not hurt him; he merely wanted to share things with him.
“No,” Toby blurted out. “I’m not afraid of you… or Sarah.”
“Good,” Maynard said. “That makes me very happy. You have no reason to fear me, my little friend. Once I share with you all of these little secrets, I’m sure we will become very, very good friends. Brothers, you might say.”
Toby wasn’t sure what that meant. It confused him a lot, but still he wasn’t afraid. But they couldn’t be brothers… could they?
“We don’t have the same mom,” Toby said. “You’re older than my mom.”
“Ah yes,” Maynard said. “I was speaking figuratively. But now that the subject has come up, where is your mother, Toby?”
“I—I don’t know,” Toby said, feeling the sadness fall over him like one of Maynard’s curtains. “She just left.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, but I heard the others say that she was sick.”
“Hmm,” Maynard said, and then paused for a moment. “Interesting. I’m sorry to hear that, Toby. Truly I am. I know what it’s like to… lose a loved one.”
Maybe Maynard had lost his mom, too, Toby thought. He sounded sad when he said that he had lost a loved one. Maybe in a way they were brothers; two people who had lost their mothers. He wondered how Maynard had lost his mother.
“Now let us continue,” Maynard said. “Go to the next cage.”
Toby went over to the cage next to Johnny’s, ready to pull the curtains back. But Maynard stopped him.
“Not yet,” Maynard said. “Wait until I tell you what you are about to see. This cage is the first stage of the mutants. It’s what I call the proto-mutative stage. These are people who have become infected with the alien pathogen. What they become next depends on their own physiology. But first, this is what they look like. Pull the curtains.”
Toby hesitantly stepped forward and pulled the curtains open. Inside, was a creature that still looked like a human, but was pale and emaciated, and was in a fetal position on its side. It had no hair, had sunken eyes, and it mouth was toothless. It was unmoving, and appeared to be dead. Either way, it was frightening. How could a human look like this? As he studied it closer, he could see that its skin was almost transparent, and he could see the muscles and tendons underneath.
“This creature was found wandering through the woods,” Maynard said. “It is still mostly human, and could still reason and speak to a certain degree. It told me its name was Dalton before it begged me to kill it.”
“It’s dead?” Toby asked.
“Yes,” Maynard replied. “Very much so. I ended it quickly by thrusting an ice pick into the base of its brain. It is now simply for display. But it will decompose soon, I imagine. Though this particular creature was coherent, most of them are not. The creatures you saw me with are the same as this one, only slightly farther along. I keep them at their proto-mutated stage by preventing them from feeding.”
“Dalton,”
Toby said. “If you bury him, you should make a tombstone with his name on it. That would be nice.”
“Yes, it would,” Maynard said. “Now, go to the cage behind you.”
Toby turned again and went to the next cage. He stood waiting for Maynard to speak.
“Now,” Maynard said. “This is one possible stage that the proto-mutants may take. This happens to fairly normal people who have a more aggressive personality than the average human. These may be athletes, hunters, thrill seekers; anyone who loves action and adventure. Pull the curtain.”
As Toby pulled the curtain, he immediately recognized the creature as a stalker. It was man-like, but appeared to walk on all fours while its front limbs retained their arm-like shape. Though this creature was dead, like the other one, it was still fearsome.
Its skin was a pale, glossy white, and hard-looking like plastic or wax. Its limbs were sinewy and thin, with long, sharp claws at the ends of its fingers and toes. There were four short scorpion-like tails on its back that were draped out at its side. Its face was very alien, appearing like a wax-dipped skull with a split bottom jaw.
“Stalker,” he whispered.
“Is that what you call them?” Maynard asked. Toby nodded. “That’s fitting. They do stalk around and attack things. They attack humans, animals, even the infected ragers. They, like the other mutants are fascinating to me. Unlike the infected fungal creatures that the layperson would call zombies, these are truly new life forms created from existing life. They come from cocoons, like a caterpillar would make, and then emerge as one of these, or something even more strange and frightening. Go to the next cage.”
As Toby walked over, Maynard began describing the next mutant.
“In addition to the humans who began to mutate, many animals did as well. This specimen is, or was rather, a coyote. Pull the curtain.”
Toby pulled the curtain open. Inside was a bizarre dog-like creature. It was shaped like a typical coyote he had seen, but with no fur, hard white skin, and fangs that jutted out like some strange alien from a sci-fi movie. Thankfully, it too was dead.