Outage 5: The Change

by Piperbrook, T. W.

  That beast wasn't the only one.

  Several others raced through the night, dark silhouettes in the moon. The survivors screamed and bucked against their bindings, knowing they'd be next.

  A jolt of pain ripped Tom back into his internal struggle. He felt the same way he had before he'd passed out at the house, right before he'd gone inside.

  Only this time he didn't black out. He stayed cognizant.

  With a roar, Tom broke free of his bindings, as if he'd never been bound at all. The noises and actions around him—the crackle of the fire, the screams of the survivors, of Harold—converged into one, and yet he was able to separate everything at once, possessing a keen perception of everything around him. His body was a large, vicious force. He carried much more mass than before, but he wasn't hindered by it. His body was suited for his weight, as if he'd been bred for his physique. He lunged for the nearest dark shadow, tackling a creature to the ground, tearing its flesh. He ripped at its neck, tasting blood, burrowing long enough to determine it was dead before moving on to another.

  A second creature reared back in surprise, cut off on its way to Emily. The little girl's screams rang in Tom's ears as he swung his claw, slicing open the creature's stomach, prompting an agonizing shriek from the other beast. Standing in front of the screaming survivors, Tom roared as two more creatures approached. Seeing what he'd done to the others, they crept with caution. Too late, he realized they were distracting him.

  Another creature barreled into Tom, knocking him sideways. He hit the ground with a snarl, rolling and taking the thing with him. His ferocity was fueled by the screams of the survivors. Protecting them was an innate urge leftover from his conscience self. Tom was remotely aware of who he was and what he was doing, but actions had taken over for explanations. He bit and clawed until the beast on top of him went limp, rolled out from under it, and regained his feet.

  He spun toward the survivors.

  One of the beasts had dragged the ruddy-faced survivor from his bindings, leaving pieces of skin behind. It buried its maw in his gut and pulled out his insides, taunting Tom. Realizing the man was lost, Tom ran at another beast approaching Maria. It scratched her face as she strained to free herself from the ropes. Tom dove. One second he was ingesting the smell of the creature's musk, the next he was bashing into it, sending it reeling.

  They landed in the snow. They sunk. For the first time since the change, agony burst through Tom as the creature dug its claws into his side. He snarled, fighting back with his teeth. The beast was more experienced than he was. Years of killing had honed its skills.

  But Tom was angrier.

  His maw clashed with the other beast as they searched for each other's necks. He felt the beast overpowering him. Pain sparked his eyes as the creature bit his nose.

  A brief flash of fear went through Tom's head.

  Was this the way he'd die?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Kelsey watched the commotion in a panic. Joseph surged through the snow to get back to her. The beasts had invaded the field. Furred bodies whipped into the open, illuminated in the glow of the fire. They raced for the survivors. Several roared at the man in the field, who was shooting at them.

  "Jesus!" she exclaimed.

  "One of the beasts is Tom!" Joseph said, gasping for breath. "I saw him change."

  "That one?" she asked, pointing as one of the beasts tackled another.

  "I think so."

  That revelation didn't help the survivors. If they didn't do something, the people tied to the bleachers would die.

  "Where's Lana?" she asked.

  "Over there!" Joseph pointed.

  Infant screams alerted her to the child, who was lying on the ground. The men had left her on the outskirts of the raging battle.

  "We have to get to her!" Kelsey cried.

  "I'll grab her while you help the others!"

  Kelsey swallowed as she appraised the scene. In just moments, Tom had battled off several of the beasts. It appeared he was keeping them occupied. But more would be coming…

  Before she could argue, Joseph raced out into the field, heading toward Lana. Swallowing back her fear, Kelsey headed out after him. She aimed her rifle, providing cover as he made his way toward the screaming child. In the distance, two beasts rolled in the snow, engaged in battle. Another attacked one of the survivors.

  Jesus…Jesus…

  Her stomach hitching, Kelsey progressed through the field. Joseph was halfway to the baby when a beast careened across his path. He cried out and held up his knife. Kelsey raised the rifle. With no time to consider whether she might miss, she fired a shot, striking the beast in its massive head. The creature sank in the snow. And then Joseph was running again, veering around it and covering the distance to Lana.

  Joseph scooped the baby into his arms and carried her, turning toward the houses. Kelsey had no time for the guilty look on his face.

  "Go! Get her somewhere safe!" she screamed.

  "I should stay. I should help…" Joseph started.

  "Go! Now!" she screamed.

  He hesitated only briefly before running. Kelsey continued toward the commotion, veering toward the bleachers. In the corner of her eye, she saw a figure break from the fire. Turning, she saw it was the man from the field. His rifle swung at his side as he ran after Joseph and Lana. His face was bloodied. She wasn't sure if he was chasing them or fleeing, but she couldn't let him run them down.

  She couldn't.

  She changed course and darted toward him, visions of Mike and Flannery flashing through her head. Catching sight of her, the man raised his gun.

  "Get out of my way, you stupid bit—" he yelled.

  Without hesitation, she fired. The bullet struck him in the chest, toppling him over into the snow. He didn't move. Any second-guessing Kelsey might've had was cast aside by the screams of the survivors.

  She kept on toward the bleachers, thinking about the handful of bullets she had left in the rifle: enough to ward off a few beasts, if she was lucky. The heat of the fire's blaze assaulted her. She raced around it and reached the bleachers, swerving around the body of one of the beasts. Its throat had been sliced open. It wasn't moving. She had the fleeting thought that Tom had done the damage, but she had no time to analyze it.

  Another beast was tearing into a woman's lifeless body. Kelsey raised the gun and fired. The creature caught the bullet in the chest, but it didn't die. She fired again. It collapsed in a heap over the woman it'd killed.

  "Help us!" another woman screamed.

  Kelsey was about to untie the woman when the woman screamed a warning, ripping Kelsey's attention to another creature, slouched and feasting on another person near the fire.

  Taking aim, Kelsey fired. This time she missed. The bullet whipped through the snow, alerting the beast. It rose to full height, swallowed a mouthful of innards, and darted for her. Kelsey tried aiming, but she was too late. The creature caught her on the shoulder, knocking her to the ground. She struggled for footing as she fought with the deep snow. The frantic screams of the survivors were sounds she'd hear in her nightmares. She felt the hot, foul breath of the creature above her, descending, preparing to feast.

  Knowing she couldn't get off a shot, she swung the rifle instead.

  The blow struck the beast in the mouth. The creature howled and stepped back, giving her enough room to get the gun between them and fire. The bullet caught the beast in the chest, sending it sprawling. Digging herself from the snow, she forced herself to her feet. The area around her was a nightmarish collage of beasts and bodies. She forced herself to look away and focus on the people screaming for help. She needn't check her gun to know she'd expended the last of her ammunition; without it, she was nearly defenseless. The guns of the dead men were too far away to reach. She knew the ammunition inside them wouldn't do much good.

  Two other beasts twisted and snarled behind the bleachers. Was one of them Tom? She couldn't be sure. Her hope was that she could untie
the survivors before one of them emerged victorious.

  She pulled a knife from her pocket—a blade she'd taken from the bunker—and approached a little girl first. The girl's eyes were lit with terror.

  "I'm going to get you out of here, sweetie," she said as she cut the ropes. "What's your name?"

  "Emily."

  Emily massaged her wrists. "You have to untie my mom!"

  Kelsey ran to the blonde-haired woman next to her, releasing her, and watched the woman hug her daughter. Kelsey freed the surviving captives—two women—and led them away, glancing quickly at the other victims. None moved.

  The fire raged as she led the survivors from the field, straining to see in the blackened night around them. The edges of the field seemed even darker than before. It wasn't until she inspected closer that she realized some of the shapes were creatures, drawn by the fire.

  "Come on!" she yelled, leading the group toward the houses where Joseph had disappeared. She fought the feeling that she'd saved these people too late. They followed in a bundle of nerves. Her gun was empty, her knife inadequate. They couldn't outrun these things.

  All Kelsey could do was move forward. Her thoughts roamed to Katherine and Silas, who were waiting in the bunker. How long would it be until hope gave way to despair?

  Looking back at the survivors, she saw a flurry of frightened faces. Emily's mother was limping. The women were tear-stained and panicked. The beasts were gaining on them.

  Turning, she saw headlights burning in the distance. Was it help?

  Past the neighborhood Joseph was hiding in, several vehicles blazed down the street.

  Sgt. Greenwood.

  She had no choice but to believe it was him.

  The lights were definitely moving. Several pairs of them moved in a consistent pattern, getting closer. She pushed aside the stories Joseph had told her—the story of the dump truck that Tom had seen, in particular—and convinced herself the lights were a blessing. Before leaving the bunker, she'd tried to get ahold of the man on the radio, to no avail. She prayed it was Sgt. Greenwood.

  They transitioned from the edge of the field to the neighboring lot, listening to the snarls of beasts behind them. Whoever was in the vehicles must've seen the smoke and fire.

  The vehicles were halfway down the street as Kelsey and the others plowed across the lawn. As they rounded the house, she was surprised to find Joseph in the street, running ahead of them, Lana in his arms.

  "Joseph!" Kelsey cried.

  "Someone's coming!" he cried over his shoulder. "Up ahead!"

  They didn't need to speak to know they had to keep moving. The snarls behind them were motivation enough. The vehicles bounced up and down the snow as they approached.

  It wasn't until they were closer that Kelsey confirmed they were military vehicles: the light of the moon splashed off camouflage patterns. Three Humvees rolled toward them, lights flashing. Her hope turned to despair as she saw several creatures hanging off the sides.

  Kelsey cried out to Joseph, who was a hundred yards ahead of her. He'd already stopped, clutching the baby. They stared at the military vehicles, frozen in stride.

  They couldn't run to the vehicles.

  They'd be shredded if they did.

  Rifles popped out of windows and soldiers battled off the creatures. Several fell shrieking, but others climbed the roofs, perched in positions where the soldiers couldn't reach them.

  Looking behind them, Kelsey saw a slew of creatures running at them from the field. Her hope turned to desperation as she realized their predicament. They were sandwiched.

  Help might've arrived, but they were far from safe.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Tom and the other creature embraced each other in a death grip. After Tom's initial surge of energy, he'd lost strength. The first few creatures had given him no trouble. Whether it was the advantage of surprise, or his intense desire to protect the others, he wasn't sure.

  He watched the survivors run through the field, hoping he'd given them enough of a lead. He struggled to maintain some advantage over the creature he was fighting, even though his strength was waning. The beast was bigger than the others, and though he hadn't realized it at first, much bigger than him. The hot sensation of pain stabbed his nose from where it'd bit him. His side ached from where it'd embedded its claws. Tom twisted and turned, furrowing his claws into the beast's skin. He wasn't even sure what he was cutting, but soft skin caved beneath his fingers, giving him hope he could defeat it.

  If he were going to die, he'd take it with him.

  The beast snarled as Tom dug harder. He sensed he was hurting the thing, but his own body stung with pain, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hang on. His eyes fluttered with the threat of unconsciousness. Once he went under, he'd succumb to darkness forever.

  The idea was an enticing one, begging him to relax, to embrace whatever fate he was heading toward. But the gunshots and panicked shouts in the distance told him the others needed help. He smelled the musk of his brethren giving chase. Animal footsteps beat the snow. His companions were being overtaken. Tom groped with his free hand, searching for his opponent's throat. He needed to help. He needed to do something.

  He couldn't let them die.

  Conjuring his anger, he wrenched one of his nails free and prepared a last, desperate move. Skirting the beast's claw, he plunged his nails into its neck, twisting and turning. The creature kicked wildly, trying to counteract his move.

  The wound was fatal.

  Both of its hands flew to its neck, as if it might cauterize the wound, but it was too late. With his hands free, Tom tore at the creature's skin, thinking of Lorena, of Abraham, of Flannery, all the people who had died because of the creatures. The Great Storm wouldn't end because it was over.

  It would end now.

  With a roar, Tom separated the beast's head from its body, holding the appendage in the air in a triumphant display of savagery. Panting, he dragged himself from the snow and staggered around the bleachers, heading for the houses where the others were still fighting for their lives.

  On the way, he passed several naked bodies. One of them was Ranger.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Kelsey swiveled around the neighborhood, caught between the oncoming beasts and the Humvees. She looked for a place to hide. Spotting a station wagon at the side of the road, she screamed, "In there!"

  The others paused, stuck in an uncertain moment of panic. Gunshots filled the air as the soldier's battled the beasts from the Humvees. She heard one of the soldiers cry out as he was ripped from the vehicle, his death scream filling the air.

  "Now!" she screamed.

  With no time to wait and see if they followed, she ripped open the doors. The others piled into the back seat in a terrified mass, sliding to make room for each other. Kelsey took the driver's seat and slammed the door, just in time to see the street fill with hungry beasts. Their shadowed, loping forms filled her with terror. She hadn't seen so many since the night before at the hospital. Visions of fallen friends—Tabatha, Sigrid, Abraham, and Sally—flashed through her head.

  Kelsey slammed the door lock button, listening to the mechanical whir of the locking mechanism. Normally the lock meant safety, but now it only meant a delay from death. The beasts would have little trouble getting inside. The snow-covered windows gave little visibility to the road. She glanced at the rifle, as if it might magically reload. She prayed the beasts might pass them by.

  "Stay quiet," she hissed through gritted teeth.

  She heard the gulp of held breaths from the back seat. Even Lana fell silent, as if she knew her life was at stake. Gunshots filled the air. A particularly loud soldier's shriek made Kelsey turn. She saw nothing out the covered back window. The keys were in the car, but she didn't dare turn it on.

  We should've run to a house, she thought.

  But there hadn't been time. And the doors and windows would've been equally ineffective. She kept still as the gunshots cont
inued.

  Animal footsteps paraded by the window. Gunshots accompanied screams. Kelsey couldn't recall the last time she had prayed, but she did so now, reciting words in her head that she hadn't spoken in years. Metal groaned right outside her window; the driver's side mirror sounded like it'd been ripped off. Something pounded on the side of the car. A bullet pierced the back of the vehicle, inciting panicked cries from the occupants. Kelsey kept praying as she looked from window to window.

  Something ran over the vehicle. Kelsey followed the noise, icy shivers running up her arms. She heard the snarl of something on the trunk, followed by a gun blast. A beast thudded from the vehicle to the ground.

  Looking in the backseat, she saw Joseph clutching his knife, Lana on his lap. Maria hugged Emily; the other women squeezed between them, whimpering.

  We're all right. We're all right.

  The windshield shattered. Suddenly Kelsey was face to face with a snarling creature, cold wind gushing into the vehicle, glass raining down on her lap and legs. She screamed as she fought the thing off with the rifle, hitting it with the headstock. Her blows were without aim. Claws sliced into her. Or was it glass? She could no longer tell. The beast was a suffocating aura, drowning everything else out. It lunged through the broken windshield, plucking her out. The screams of her companions were indicators that she was about to die. She wriggled and wriggled, as if she might find refuge, even though the beast was already lifting her from the seat. She pictured the man she'd seen disemboweled in the field, screaming as the creature feasted on his innards.

  No! It can't end like this!

  Kelsey struck the beast in the face with the rifle. It howled. And suddenly it was falling sideways, letting her go. It bounced from the hood and onto the snow, snarling as another beast fell on top of it, slicing with its claws. Tom? She had no time to analyze it. Through the broken windshield, she saw the front of one of the Humvees. A soldier was screaming at them to move.