by Hunter Shea
A hail of bullets rained down on the machine. Rosemary pressed her back to it, riding it out.
I can’t stay here. They know where am I and they’ll eventually box me in.
She looked inside the bag. There were more flash-bang grenades. It would be an awfully long throw to get it through that window. But maybe she didn’t need to get it that far. Just close enough to blind them.
Darting out from behind the machine, she spit a line of fire. The men ducked, giving her time to pull the pin and hurl the grenade as far as she could. It landed on the gangway she’d initially dropped down onto.
The men, not hearing it, poked their heads back, guns drawn.
Rosemary ducked for cover. There was an incredible explosion this time, the bass of it so heavy and deep, it made her heart skip several beats. The factory shuddered from the impact.
That wasn’t a flash-bang.
There was a hole in the wall where the grenade had landed. The men were nowhere to be seen. Shrapnel had flown in every direction.
“Holy crap.”
She realized she couldn’t carry the full-on grenades in the bag with people shooting at her. If a stray bullet hit one of them, she’d be vaporized.
There were four in all. She wished she’d been able to take Rob’s bags. She could only imagine what he had in them. She pulled the pins and launched each grenade at different production areas of the factory. Heavy machinery became scrap metal, novelty toys blown to smithereens.
Making her way to the factory floor, Rosemary spied an open door at the other end. Fires had broken out everywhere. The conveyor belts had all stopped. Black smoke roiled in the vast room. The smell of burning plastic and other toxic chemicals burned her nose and lungs.
Churning her legs as fast as she could, Rosemary headed for the door, expecting an army of AdventureCo security to be waiting for her. That was fine by her. She was ready for them. Nothing was going to stop her. Not until she found her family. The rifle was in one hand, the pistol in the other.
Sprinting through the door, she fired in both directions.
The dazzling white corridor was devoid of people. Oily smoke billowed into it behind her.
To her left was something that looked like an altar. Made of marble, the base had carvings of naked people writhing in a tight mass, agony etched onto the faces of the men, women, and children. A black cloth had been laid over the altar, and there was a chipped, wooden bowl in the center. Rosemary inched closer to the altar, wary of anyone following her into the corridor.
Standing beside it, she looked into the bowl.
It was filled with blood, or something that looked an awful lot like blood. She poked the bowl with her gun. Something floated to the top.
It was an ear.
She gasped, stumbling back and almost tripping over her own feet.
In that brief glance, she saw the tiny notch in the outer fold of the ear, as if someone had pressed their nail into it and left a lasting impression.
It was Dwight’s.
Chapter Fourteen
Rosemary roared with rage, shooting the altar, defacing the intricate carving and blowing the bowl to tiny pieces. What kind of sickness was this? Just what the fuck was AdventureCo? It was no wonder the mayor refused to talk about it. Something this evil had long-reaching tendrils. If she wasn’t so goddamned mad right now, she’d be paralyzed by fear.
She had to move fast. It felt as if the walls were closing in around her, as if time were spinning out of control.
They wanted her to find that ear.
All along, she thought she was taking them by surprise, and in reality, they’d been leading her here.
At least that’s how it felt.
She had to crouch to get under the smoke, hustling in the other direction, searching for a door, any door, that could lead her closer to her family…if they were still alive.
She heard and then felt a bullet whiz past her ear. She fired back into the growing gloom. Still running, she could see just enough to step over the body, legs in spasm as death took hold.
“Come on, come on. Where’s a fucking door?”
Just as she said it, a door swung open at the end of the corridor. Three men emerged, each armed with a rifle. Rosemary dropped to the ground, their bullets sizzling overhead. Knees propped on the floor, she opened fire into the crowd of men. One by one they collapsed, grabbing their legs. She kept shooting, making sure to get them in the torso and head as they sank to her level.
Collecting herself, she made it to the doorway and pressed her back to the wall, waiting to see if anyone else was coming. She wished she’d saved one of the grenades. She could just launch it and walk in after it had cleared the way.
It could also kill Dwight and Gavin if they’re close by, she thought.
Unlike before, she stepped through this door without shooting. She felt she was getting deeper into the AdventureCo maze, which meant she was getting closer to her family. She’d have to be very careful from here on.
Instead of another long hallway, this led to a huge, dark room. A red light from someplace she couldn’t see cast an eerie glow. The room, as far as she could tell, was empty. The walls here weren’t fabricated. No, they were rough and rocky, carved from the earth itself.
The sound of clapping caught her breath in her throat.
A man came out of the darkness just twenty feet in front of her. He too wore a suit, his black hair parted to one side, a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Not bad,” he said in a gravelly voice, “for a dumb whore.”
She knew that voice. He was the one who had been calling her, tormenting her, the one who had taken her son and husband!
He continued to clap, the sound echoing in the vast room.
Rosemary fired the rifle in a steady line that riddled him with bullets from his crotch to the top of his head. The smile shredded like bloody cheese. Each half of his body fell in opposite directions.
“I’m not a dumb whore,” she growled.
“No, you’re apparently not,” another voice, this one smoother than silk, replied.
She couldn’t see who had spoken, but he was somewhere in the darkness ahead of her.
She raised the rifle.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
“It’s a good thing you’re not me,” Rosemary said. “Now where are my son and husband?”
“Mom!”
Hearing Dwight’s voice almost brought her to her knees. The rifle felt like a ten-ton weight.
“Dwight!”
Their voices bounced around the room, making it impossible to tell which direction they’d come from.
Rosemary put the rifle down. It hung from a strap around her shoulder.
“The pistol too, if you please,” the silky voice said.
It clattered to the floor, along with the bag.
Exhaustion flooded her muscles, tunneling through her bones. She just wanted to hold Dwight and fall asleep.
“I thank you.”
“For what? Give me back my family.”
“For a wonderful afternoon. You can’t know how much pleasure you’ve given me. Such anger, such determination. I’m not ashamed to admit you’ve made me quite erect.”
What kind of sick bastard was this? Rosemary felt her stomach heave.
“Why don’t you show yourself?” she said. “Only cowards hide in the shadows. Only little men prey on children.”
Someone grunted. A red spotlight snapped on. Gavin was curled in a ball. She ran to him.
“Oh my God, Gavin, are you all right?”
Her husband’s skin was cold and clammy. He looked up at her with wide, terrified eyes. His mouth trembled, but he couldn’t speak.
“What have you done to him?” she shouted.
There was a long, painful silence,
then, “He wanted to see what kind of a man had done this to his family, just like you. So, I let him see.”
Rosemary’s flesh felt as if it wanted to crawl off her bones. She couldn’t explain why. Gavin was in shock, of that there was no doubt. She helped him to his feet. He clung to her like an infant.
“Now give me back my son.”
“The fire burns deep in you.” He made a low, soft moaning sound that set her teeth on edge. “I could just drink you up.”
“Mommy?”
Dwight shuffled from the darkness, a blindfold wrapped around his eyes. Still propping her husband up, she rushed to meet him, clutching him to her body. She kissed the top of his head again and again, weeping uncontrollably. With one hand, she undid the knot of the blindfold and let it drop to the floor. She felt the side of his head, letting out a sharp cry when she saw that he had both of his ears.
“It was just a slight enticement to, ah, stoke the flames,” the voice said.
“You came for us,” Dwight said, crying into her chest.
“Of course I did, baby. I’d never let anyone hurt you.”
Gavin gripped her shoulder, shaking like a leaf.
Dwight said, “I want to go home.”
“I know, honey. I know.”
The only problem was, the way out was on fire. Rosemary hadn’t seen any other means of exiting the underground lair.
“Let us out,” Rosemary said.
Silence was her reply.
“If what you say is true, we both got what we wanted. Show me how to get the hell out of here.”
This time, the voice chuckled.
“Yes, it seems your use is at an end. You’re not the first, you know. Oh, but you’ve been the best. Yes, by far, the best.”
A bright light spilled into the room as a door opened on the other side. Rosemary and Dwight shielded their eyes. They walked as one toward the light. The voice remained silent as they trudged across the room, the acrid smell of smoke following them.
Before they stepped out of the room, Rosemary said, “Who are you? What did all of this mean?”
“Oh, I think you know who I am. Care to see for yourself? I promise, it’s not something you’ll ever forget.”
Gavin stumbled away from her, falling across the threshold. Scrabbling on his hands and knees, he crawled into the fresh air and light, casting furtive glances back, blubbering incoherently.
Rosemary turned to see what he was looking at.
Dwight tugged hard on her arm. “Don’t, Mom.”
She looked to her son, the distraught shell of her husband.
“He wanted to see what kind of a man had done this to his family. So, I let him see,” the voice said.
The ground rumbled and there was a loud bass pop, as if something exceedingly heavy had dropped from above. Rosemary instinctively shielded her son. Gavin curled up into a ball, his hair coated with dirt as his mouth opened and closed silently, like a fish.
She turned back and saw nothing but the clear, vacant lot. The chamber they had emerged from was gone, as if it had never been there at all. Even the stump that had been the secret entrance to AdventureCo’s underground lair was missing, replaced by scrub grass.
Rob’s down there, she thought. He’ll be down there forever. Her heart ached for a brother she thought she’d never see again.
It took a lot of gentle coaxing to get Gavin back on his feet. She wasn’t even sure he recognized her. But he did listen to her, taking her hand and following her to the car.
Dwight stayed glued to her side, sniffling.
“The man told me that you would come,” he said.
She stopped, looking down at his tired face, his eyes bloodshot and glassy.
“He was right.”
He looked behind them at the field of nothing. “He said if you did, it would be bad for you. That he would see you again. What did he mean?”
Cupping his face in her hands, she kissed his forehead. Gavin stared at the ground, arms slack, completely disconnected from reality.
Rosemary shivered in the southern heat, hoping Dwight didn’t notice. She put on the best smile she could muster and held on to the hands of her son and husband. “Let’s go home.”
She helped Gavin lie down in the back of the car. She buckled Dwight in the passenger seat.
When she went to slide behind the wheel, she found something tucked into the seat.
It was a five-dollar bill.
Just Add Water
Think Money Back Guarantee was scary?
Sample another thrilling title by Hunter Shea!
GROW AMAZING LIVE SEA SERPENTS!
It’s fun! It’s easy! They only cost a measly dollar. Just clip out the ad in your comic book. Then ask Mom to mail it in. A few weeks later, receive a packet of instant Sea Serpent dust. Then:
Just add water…and watch them grow!
WHAT COULD GO WRONG?
Just ask David and Patrick. Their “instant pets” are instant duds. They don’t hatch, they don’t grow, they don’t do anything. So they dump them into the sewer where Dad pours toxic chemicals…
WAIT UNTIL FEEDING TIME.
It’s been years since David and Patrick thought about those Sea Serpents. But now, small animals are disappearing in the neighborhood. Strange slimy creatures are rising from the sewers. And once the screaming starts, David and Patrick realize that their childhood pets really did come to life. With a vengeance. They’re enormous…and have a ravenous hunger for human flesh…
Instant monsters. Instant mayhem.
On sale now.
Chapter One
Tuckerville, NY, 1980
When everything was said and done and the dead were long buried, they would blame Wonder Woman.
While everyone else collected Star Wars (the red, yellow, blue and green series) and baseball cards, Patrick Richards and David Estrada plunked every hard-earned nickel they had on comic books. Oh, and there were also the protective plastic bags they had to buy to keep each issue as pristine as possible.
Their habit was expensive, but the thirteen-year-old best friends found ways to scrape together enough money every month to buy the latest issues of The Fantastic Four, Captain America, The Flash, Marvel Two-in-One (featuring The Thing and a different guest hero each issue), Green Arrow, and too many others to count. Well, they could count them. In fact, each could rattle off the total number of comics in their collections at a moment’s notice.
“Three hundred and twenty-five,” Patrick would say.
“Four hundred and two,” David would say, showing off just a bit. Patrick had a paper route while David mowed lawns for the older people in the neighborhood. Sometimes, they would wait outside the Shopwell supermarket, offering to load people’s bags into their cars for tips. An afternoon at Shopwell could net them enough scratch to buy four or more comics.
And there was always shoveling to be done in the winter, along with raking leaves in the fall.
When you had a comic addiction, you had to find ways to feed the beast.
They found themselves in late May flush with cash, thanks to a visit from Patrick’s grandparents. His grandfather had slipped a twenty-dollar bill into Patrick’s pocket, whispering in his ear, “Don’t tell your parents. That’s comic book money. Get enough to last the summer.”
“You’re really gonna share?” David said, staring at the twenty on the floor between them.
“It’s not like we don’t read the same comics,” Patrick said. “The deal is, I get to add more to my collection. Say we split it seventy–thirty?”
David smiled. “I’ll take it.”
They shook and it was done.
The four-block ride to Blackburn’s stationery store had them both in a sweat. Summer had come early. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the sun was downright brutal. Po
pping tandem wheelies, they leaped off their bikes at the entrance, both riderless Huffys crashing to the ground in a tangle of metal and rubber.
Blackburn’s kept the comics in a long rectangular box on the floor under the magazine rack. The boys got on their knees, carefully rifling through the upright stack.
“We have everything,” David said, deflating. His short-cut black hair glistened with drops of sweat.
“Almost,” Patrick said, plucking a Wonder Woman free. His own face was flushed, bringing the cluster of freckles on his cheeks to blazing prominence.
David considered it, then shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s better than nothing.”
They paid forty cents for the issue, getting a ton of change that somehow made it seem like they had more money than when they had started. The boys jumped back on their bikes and pedaled home, anxious to get back to David’s room because it had an air conditioner.
David read along with Patrick, just over his shoulder. Neither was a Wonder Woman aficionado, but neither could argue against the fact that she had one sexy bod.
Sexy for a comic book character. Not as hot as, say, Mrs. Pendleton, freshly divorced and constantly on the prowl. The boys appreciated how difficult she made it for any straight male to not stare at her bulging rack or curvy hips.
They were done in five minutes, the air from the AC making the pages of the comic flutter.
“Well, that was exciting,” David said, rolling onto his back.
“It would have made more sense if we had read the previous two issues.” Patrick flipped through it again. They’d decided they weren’t going to preserve this one. Wonder Woman just didn’t make the cut for the special-bag treatment.
He perused the endless ads for gag gifts, magic kits, body building guides and footlockers filled with a thousand army men.
His eyes paused on the all-too-familiar ad for the Amazing Sea Serpents! In the ad, a smiling family of creatures that looked like a cross between mermaids and anacondas, with almost human faces, waved back at him from the comfort of their underwater city.