Extinct

by Hamill, Ike

  When she heard Brad approach, she turned. Her face, twisted in grief, was streaked with tears and smeared with blood.

  “Look what he did to Glen,” she said.

  Brad nodded.

  “Are there any more of them?” Brad asked.

  “Of who?” she said. Her voice sounded strained and close to panic.

  “Of these guys,” Brad said. “Your captors—any more of them?”

  “I don’t know,” Christine said. She wiped her face with the back her hand. “I don’t think so.”

  Brad assumed that the blood smeared on her shoulder and face was from the mutilated body of Glen, but he remembered her severed finger. Brad picked up the flashlight and swung it around the room.

  “Wait here,” he said.

  Brad did a quick search of the building. He didn’t find any other people and couldn’t hear any noise from the room where he’d locked Buster. He wondered if the fire had eaten all the oxygen from the room.

  In the room where’d he woken up, Brad found some clothes, a couple of jackets, and a crate full of weapons. After donning his coat, he slung a shotgun bag over his shoulder and added an extra box of shells. Back in the hall, the final door led down another hallway to a door which exited to an alley.

  Brad found his way back to Christine.

  “Here, put this on,” he said, throwing her a jacket. “And then wrap this around your bad hand.” He tossed her a cotton shirt.

  She moved like a zombie and stared at Glen’s corpse more than she paid attention to what she was doing. She bunched the cloth lightly around her stump, not putting any real pressure on the wound. In the light from Brad’s lamp, the oozing blood on her hand was black and shiny.

  “Let’s go,” Brad said. “Faster, or I’m going to leave you here in the dark.”

  She looked up at Brad with anger and sorrow in her eyes.

  “Why are you upset? They were holding you prisoner,” Brad said, pointing a finger at Glen’s body. “Fine. Forget it.”

  Brad swung his light away from Christine and turned for the door. He turned the corner before she ran after him.

  “He died for me,” Christine said. “Glen never wanted to keep me tied up, it was Buster’s idea, and Buster was stronger.”

  “Fine,” Brad said. He kept walking, walking down the hall to the exit. “Keep quiet, I don’t want to get jumped again.”

  Brad pulled the door open, peering through the crack to the outside world before he made his way to the alley. The bricks were bathed in the mellow glow of what passed for daylight in their forever cloudy world. He headed towards the street. Footprints headed both directions were etched in the thin layer of snow underfoot.

  Christine looked up and down the deserted alley before she spoke again—“They didn’t even really have a problem until you showed up. Everything would have been fine.”

  Brad shoved the flashlight into the inside pocket of his jacket. He ignored Christine’s statement. At the mouth of the alley, Brad paused and leaned his head out to the sidewalk. He wasn’t familiar with the street. Christine moved in close behind him.

  “Which way is Congress Street? Do you know?” Brad asked.

  Christine pointed to the right.

  Brad headed left and picked up his pace into a jog. The shotgun bag slapped against his back. Behind him, Christine kept up easily. They turned and headed down a slight hill, towards the highway. The sleds, loaded down with corpses, were gone. When Brad was oriented, he turned again, heading into the deeper snow. They slogged through snow halfway up to their knees before Christine spoke.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “I’m headed north,” he said, blurting his words between breaths. “My friend stashed snowmobiles at a motor pool. I hope one is still there.”

  “I can drive a snowmobile,” she said.

  “Good for you,” he said.

  Brad needed a rest—he wasn’t accustomed to jogging through snow and he’d used up most of his adrenaline. He hunched over and grabbed his knees. When the sour pain in the back of his throat abated, he asked, “Why are you following me?”

  “I’m coming with you,” she said. “We have to stick together.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s safer,” she said.

  “Not for me, it’s not,” he said. “As far as I know there’s another psycho Buster running around looking for you and some little girl who I thought was a boy. Seems like trouble might be following you.”

  “That’s absurd,” she said.

  “Maybe it is,” Brad said. “It’s impossible to know, I guess. Regardless, I’m headed towards danger. If you want safety, you’re headed the wrong direction.”

  “You’re going to meet Robby and those guys,” Christine said.

  “Yes.”

  “Robby has a plan?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’m coming,” she said. “I knew I should have gone with you guys before, but I thought Luke knew what he was talking about. I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.”

  Brad rose to his feet slowly and considered trying to talk her out of coming. He looked her in the eyes.

  “I get the feeling you might make bad decisions and then stubbornly stick to them,” he said.

  “Fuck you,” she said.

  “Yup. I thought so,” Brad said.

  He turned away from her angry glare and resumed his trudge to the motor pool. After another half block, they found the trails of the snowmobiles and sleds and they walked on the hard-packed snow. Near the big patches of bare dirt, where the tractors had once been parked, Brad found several parked snowmobiles. He filled the tanks of two snowmobiles with gas cans leaned up next to the big garage. Then, to the back of each vehicle, he strapped extra tanks with the little bit of gas left over.

  “You said you can drive one of these?” Brad asked.

  “It’s been a while,” Christine said. “And it’s going to be pretty damn cold without any goggles or decent gloves.”

  “Wrap up the best you can and we’ll stop and get warmer gear,” Brad said. “Did your finger stop bleeding?”

  “A while ago,” she said.

  “Good, let’s follow these tracks to the highway and then move as fast as we can. We should be able to catch up with the others pretty quick.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Freeport, Maine - WINTER

  TED WAS HALFWAY down the big, open staircase when his hand flew up with a silent halt command. Lisa, who was following close but looking off towards the upper railing, ran into him and put her hand on the middle of his back to steady herself. Pete, over at the other side of the wide stair, continued a couple of extra steps before he noticed the rest of the group was stopped.

  Both of Ted’s lights focused on a display to his left. Soon, all the beams concentrated there. The display depicted a scene out of the Maine woods. Fake branches, bushes, and rocks provided habitat for stuffed, mounted animals, or so the placards would lead one to believe. In a whisper, Ted read the signs as he moved his headlamp from sign to sign.

  “Raccoon, rabbit, bobcat, red squirrel,” Ted whispered. “Where are they?”

  “Back there, in the corner,” Romie said, about as quiet as she ever said anything. She was a couple of steps above Ted, but she motioned with her light. Ted crouched and peered between the posts of the railing to shine his light back in the corner. A round, black, furry lump, about the size of a beanbag chair, sat near a gray boulder.

  “That looks like a bear,” Pete said, keeping his voice low. “You think maybe a real bear got in here and ate all the stuffed animals?”

  “I haven’t seen one mounted animal since we got here,” Ted whispered over his shoulder. “And I’m pretty sure this place used to be full of them. There used to be a big bear over in hunting and fishing, where we came in. That might be it.”

  “So someone or something moved all the animals around?" Lisa asked.

  Sheila positioned herself between Nate
and Ted while Brynn walked down a couple more steps to get close to the railing. Robby walked around Ted and Lisa and joined Brynn. They stared at the big black lump.

  “No,” Ted said, rising out of his crouch. “The mounted bear was standing. If this is a bear, then it’s curled up like it’s hibernating.”

  Robby turned and looked up to Ted.

  “It’s breathing,” Robby said. All eyes looked at Robby for a second. Brynn nodded vigorously in agreement.

  The rounded ball of black fur grunted and shifted.

  “That is a bear,” whispered Nate. “Get away from there, Brynn.” Nate waited for Brynn to scramble to his side before he handed Brynn his flashlight. Nate loaded an arrow into the crossbow and pulled back the string. He held the weapon out at arm’s length and gripped Brynn to his hip with his other arm.

  The rest of the group tightened into a knot. Most kept their focus on the bear, but Pete and Romie, in the back, looked upstairs in the direction they were headed. The bear grunted again and they saw its head appear from behind a big paw. With its eyes closed it snuffled at the air and then tucked its head back in.

  “They don’t hibernate very deep,” Ted said with his voice low. The group could barely hear him over the dry shuffle of their feet over the wood floor.

  Nate and Brynn moved quicker than the huddled group, so they led the way. When they’d moved out of sight of the bear’s exhibit, Sheila stopped with a panicked look. She fluttered a hand in front of her face and hunched her shoulders.

  “What is it?” Lisa asked in a whisper.

  “Keep moving,” Nate said over his shoulder. He and Brynn moved slowly away from the rest.

  Sheila sucked in a constricted, whistling breath. Her exhale was equally labored.

  “Take it easy,” Ted said in a low voice. “You having trouble breathing?”

  Sheila nodded.

  “Close your eyes,” Ted said.

  Sheila’s eyes widened at the suggestion.

  “Shhh, just close your eyes and relax,” Ted said. “We’re all here. We’re right here.”

  Sheila’s eyelids fluttered, fighting her as she tried to comply. She finally managed to get them shut and her shoulders fell almost instantly. A long, slow breath leaked from her lungs as she unclenched her teeth. She took a deep breath, collecting it into her belly and then exhaled through her nose. The panic left her face and Sheila opened her eyes.

  “Good,” Ted said. “Let’s go.”

  Lisa grabbed Sheila’s hand and helped her forward. The others drew in around Sheila and moved ahead towards the lights of Brynn and Nate.

  From the direction of Nate and Brynn, three noises came out of the dark in rapid succession: a low, angry howl, a loud mechanical snap, and a shriek. Suddenly the beams of Brynn and Nate scattered in random directions, and then repointed back at the group. Dragging Brynn by the arm, Nate scrambled back past the group, hooking a sliding left towards the stairs leading up to the second floor. Just behind him, the others saw the cause of his alarm—a screaming bobcat with a crossbow arrow lodged in its bleeding shoulder was bounding across the tiles towards them.

  “Shit,” Lisa said as she tried to turn.

  The bobcat pounced towards group.

  Pete’s knife rang like a tiny bell as he pulled it from the sheath on his side. The big man jumped towards Lisa from the other side.

  The bobcat hit Lisa’s shoulder and upper back with extended claws. It didn’t take much weight to overbalance Lisa, who was mid-turn. Her feet slid out from under her, and her hand slipped from Sheila’s. The bobcat took her to the ground as it sunk its teeth into the arm of her down coat. Pete swung his knife down towards the torso of the big cat. His knife struck ribs and stuck, not penetrating much beyond the tip of the blade.

  Lisa stifled a scream between her clenched teeth.

  Ted flashed a look back at Robby, who grabbed Sheila’s coat and dragged her towards the staircase to the upper floor. Sheila flailed and struggled to keep up on her bad leg. Romie looked back to Robby and then forward to Lisa. She watched Ted throw himself across Lisa, grabbing the bobcat around its neck. Pete twisted his knife and brought it back to the ribcage of the bobcat, plunging the blade between its ribs just as Ted wrenched the cat’s head backwards.

  The bobcat screamed again, spun in Ted’s grip, and swiped out a heavy paw at Ted’s head.

  The paw landed, knocking Ted’s head back. A spray of blood spattered Pete’s face as he reached for the bobcat. Ted rolled backwards and thrust his arms away, trying to free himself from the claws and teeth flailing at his face.

  With his second push, Ted screamed a guttural roar. It was immediately echoed by a resonating, echoing growl from the direction of the lower staircase. The bobcat released its claws and bolted. Pete’s knife clattered to the tiles.

  Lisa pushed up from under the two men. Pete rolled off of Ted and grabbed his knife. Ted, still dazed, lay on his back. Pete and Lisa grabbed Ted under the armpits and dragged him towards the upper stairs as another loud growl called out.

  “I can walk. I can walk,” Ted said as he tried to get his feet under him. Pete helped him flip over as Lisa ran for the stairs. Romie, Robby, and Sheila were nearly at the top.

  Pain erupted in Lisa’s right ankle, slowing her gait to a hitching limp. Robby ran back down the stairs and propped up Lisa’s right side. She pulled herself up with the railing and let Robby support her other side. Behind them, Pete and Ted gathered speed as they hit the stairs.

  Back toward the lower stairs, the bear grunted and growled again, knocking over a display and shattering glass. From deeper in the store, the bobcat growled and screamed.

  Robby got Lisa to the top of the stairs and guided her to the left. Romie and Sheila waved them towards a narrow hallway. Ted and Pete reached them as they rounded the corner and saw Romie and Sheila leading them towards the men’s restroom. Against the women’s room door a deer was stretched out on its side. Deer guts and blood trailed across the floor.

  “In here, quick,” Romie said. She held open the men’s room door.

  The group piled in. Robby helped Lisa around the corner and propped her against the sink. Pete and Ted hurried the door shut and leaned back against it. The door opened to a wall just opposite its swing. Pete braced his shoulder against the door and his feet against the opposite wall.

  Ted leaned against the door. He clamped both hands to lacerations on his neck and face. Blood oozed out around his grip.

  The men were only leaning against the door for a few seconds before a shuddering jolt hit the door. The bang was followed by pounding. Pete flexed his legs to hold the door shut. Romie leaned in under him and braced the bottom of the door.

  “Wait, wait,” Romie said. “I hear something.”

  In between the pounds, they heard a muffled voice on the other side of the door.

  “That’s Nate and Brynn,” Romie said. “Let them in.”

  They moved out of the way and pulled open the door. Brynn shoved through the gap, followed immediately by Nate, who held his empty crossbow pointed towards the ceiling. Nate turned and helped them press the door shut. Between the four of them, they barely found enough room to all lean on the door.

  Sheila broke open a toilet paper dispenser and brought the roll over to Lisa, to help her bandage her scrapes. The cat’s claws and teeth hadn’t penetrated very far through her jacket; she was in good shape. Robby joined the others at the door. Romie pressed her ear against the door.

  “You have pliers, Pete?” Robby asked.

  “Shhh,” Romie said.

  Pete nodded and dug through his pockets until he produced a Leatherman—a folded device with a variety of tools and blades. Robby took it from the man and walked to the handicap stall

  When he returned, dragging the stall door, the four adults held their positions at the door. Romie waved and pointed. Then, they all heard it.

  A large animal exhaled and snorted, making a whuff-chuff noise. Through the door they heard long c
laws click across the tiles as the bear whuffed again. With a grunt, the bear stopped. They heard it snuffle and sniff, and then wet, smacking sounds carried through the door. Rhythmic slurping and chewing sounds mixed with scraping and more grunts. Pete pointed back over his shoulder and then used his hands to mime antlers.

  They understood—the bear was feeding on the deer carcass.

  Robby pointed at the door and then whispered—“We can prop this under the handle and against the wall.”

  Pete put his finger to his lips and shook his head “no,” and Romie joined him. Robby leaned the door against the wall behind him and shrugged.

  “Are you still bleeding?” Robby whispered to Ted.

  Ted peeled his hand away from his neck. His palm looked black with with blood in the minimal light. It glistened with fresh blood, and Ted clamped it back to his neck before nodding his head.

  “I’ll take your place,” whispered Robby.

  Ted pulled his weight away from the door and stepped over the legs of Pete and Nate. He lost his balance and began to wobble before Robby stepped up to steady him. Robby helped him over to the sink next to Lisa. Brynn sat cross-legged under the counter.

  Ted’s swayed gently as Sheila turned to him to help him with his wounds. Before Robby returned to the door, Sheila turned to him with anger written across her brow—“I told you guys we shouldn’t have come down here.”

  Robby left Sheila to care for the wounded and returned to the door. Pete shifted his position so he could press his ear to the door as he held it shut. He motioned to Robby to come close.

  Shoulder-to-shoulder at the door, Pete whispered directly into Robby’s ear—“We have to find a way to lock this door so we can wait for that thing to go away.”

  “I think we can prop the stall door between this door and the wall,” whispered Robby.

  “I don’t think it will work,” Pete said. “It’s too long to fit.”