by L. T. Ryan
The rumbling sound grew louder. At the edge of the field, Kathy stopped and once again took in her surroundings. Trees lined the edge of the property except for a small stretch to accommodate the driveway. Even then, the driveway snaked toward the house, ensuring that it could not be spotted from the road. Kathy wondered how she knew that. It did not dawn on her that she had traveled along the path daily for the past eight years.
Unable to spot the source of the sound, she continued toward the house, moving quickly between the field and the structure. She stared at the things in front of it. Cars, she recalled, although she had no idea what to do with one. They could be driven, but what was that?
Kathy kept one fingertip on the house as she walked toward the back. The kitchen door was still open, granting her access to the inside of the home. Once in the kitchen, she stood motionless, staring at the things on the wall. Pictures of the man and the girl stared back at her. There was a third person, another woman, in some of them. Her gaze shifted to the right, coming to a stop at a spot directly in front of her. The same woman stared back at Kathy. As she leaned forward, so did the lady. When she turned her head, the person opposite her did so as well. Kathy lunged forward and struck the face that taunted her. After three quick blows, the woman was gone.
The warm fluid running down Kathy’s arm barely registered. She looked down and smeared the red substance with her other hand. She lifted her hand to her mouth and licked it. Her tongue tingled, and her stomach became riddled with hunger pains. Her desire for fresh flesh increased.
She needed to eat soon.
Kathy left the kitchen. She headed toward the front of the house. The rumbling engine she’d heard earlier sounded even closer. Her body felt energized by the sound.
Kathy’s mind shifted toward the human side, something that happened less frequently. Her hand hurt, but she ignored the pain long enough to retrieve a pistol from the gun cabinet. She wasn’t sure what to do with it.
She looked out the window. A large truck was parked in the middle of the driveway. She didn’t recognize the vehicle. The doors were wide open. The glare of the sun prevented her from seeing inside the cab, so she had no idea how many were there.
A denim-clad leg hit the ground, followed by another. A heavy-set man appeared from behind the door. He shut it, took a step back, and opened the rear door. A second man stepped out. He was about half the size of the first. From the other side of the truck, two more men appeared. They were all armed with rifles and were walking toward the house. One stopped and inspected the vehicles in front of it. He grabbed the motorcycle by the handlebar and wheeled it behind their truck.
“Bastards,” she muttered, thinking for a second that she should kick the door down and shoot each man where they stood.
The balance of control over Kathy’s mind started to shift the other way. Instead of firing a bullet at them, she now wanted to lunge and attack and tear them apart with her hands. Knowing that she might not have much time left as herself, Kathy verified that the front door was locked, ran to the kitchen, shut and locked the back door, and then went upstairs. From her bedroom, she watched the men fan out around the front of the house. The window was slightly cracked. A stiff breeze blew through. She could smell the diesel fumes from the truck outside.
The large man moved to the middle of the yard. He rested his rifle at his side and cupped his hands to his mouth.
“Come on out,” he yelled. “We know you’re in there, and we can tell you’ve got a bunch of supplies and some kind of power system set up. I repeat, come on out. We want to talk to you.”
Kathy studied the man, trying to place him. She couldn’t, though. How did he know what they had? Did they know him? She knew her memory was fading, so it might have been possible that she’d simply forgotten the guy.
“Last chance,” the guy yelled. “If you don’t come out, we’re gonna start shooting.”
Anger scratched through Kathy. Who were they to come and shoot up her house?
She dropped to the floor and crawled out of the room. Once in the hall, she stood and moved quickly down the stairs, taking them two at a time. She went back to the front windows, parted the curtains with her index and middle finger, and spotted the men out front. They’d lined up in front of the house. All four had their rifles extended in her direction.
“This is it. No more warnings. On the count of three, we’re firing.”
The pain in Kathy’s hand dulled. Her surroundings started to become unfamiliar to her. She rubbed at her face with her cut hand, smearing blood on her cheeks. The fluid got into her eye and stung.
“One.”
She glanced down. In her left hand, she held a pistol. She could shoot, but how many of them could she hit with her off-hand?
“Two.”
She shifted the gun to her right hand, but found it impossible to grip the weapon. It fell to the floor. She didn’t care. At that moment, she wanted to run through the front door and attack the heavy man. Instead, she took a few steps back and turned away from the window.
“Three. Open the door or we’re coming for you.”
Kathy sprinted toward the kitchen, rounding the corner as the first shots splintered the front door and shattered the windows. Her leg ached. She looked down and saw a long sliver of wood jutting out from her calf. Reaching back, she grasped it with her left hand and yanked it out. An arterial spray of blood splattered the wall. She crawled to the oven and pulled down a hand towel. She tied it around her calf.
The shots continued for another thirty seconds. During that time, Kathy crawled down the hall that led to the garage. She reached up, turned the knob and pulled the door open. Once past the threshold, she closed the door and locked it from the inside. She couldn’t reach the security locks, so she left them. Kathy planted her cut hand on the first step. Though she felt no pain, the severed tendons made it impossible to get a grip, and she tumbled to the floor.
She stared up at the bright hole in the ceiling. She pulled a step-ladder over, climbed it and slid the cover over the tube’s opening. The garage went dark.
The firing had stopped. Kathy heard the men shouting. It sounded like they were both inside and outside the home. She looked toward the front of the room. Long fingers of light entered the garage from bullet holes in the garage door.
She dragged herself toward the back of the room. With her good hand, she pulled the workbench out of the way and managed to open the door hiding the tunnel hatch. She sat back with her heels underneath her and looked at the camera.
“Please, Sean,” she said. “They’re going to kill me.”
She tucked her chin to her chest and felt tears slide down her cheek. A buzzing started in her forehead and worked its way around and through her brain. Every inch it traveled, Kathy cared less about the dire situation she was in.
She only knew that which she desired most was nearby.
Chapter 22
Sean watched in horror as the men extended their rifles and shot at the front of his home. They managed to hit and destroy one of his cameras. The screen turned to snow. He cycled to a different camera, one further back on the property, giving him a wide-angle view.
He shifted his gaze from the men to his wife. She crawled along the kitchen floor, leaving a trail of blood. It appeared that she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her calf.
Had she been shot?
He looked back at the men. They continued to fire. He glanced at the kitchen image. Kathy was gone. Knowing that she wouldn’t have gone back to the living room, he switched to the garage. She lay at the bottom of the stairs. He panned around with the camera. It was evident that they had shot through the garage door.
What if they’d hit her? Would they take her body? Burn it? Burn the house down?
While they were safe in the bunker, he’d rather not attract more people, and beings, to the property.
Kathy lifted her torso off the ground and began crawling to the back of the garage. He knew she was going to
the tunnel entrance.
The men out front had begun to walk toward the house. It wouldn’t be long until one or more of them made their way to the garage.
Sean brought up the camera feed outside of the tunnel entrance. Kathy’s face filled a quarter of his screen. Though the sound was off, he could tell what she was saying.
“Please, Sean. They’re going to kill me.” He heard her voice so clearly in his head.
“Dammit,” Sean yelled, rising from his chair.
Both bedroom doors opened and the dog ran to his side.
“What’s wrong, Sean?” Barbara asked.
Emma looked too scared to talk.
“Back in your rooms,” he commanded. “Both of you. I don’t have time to explain. Whatever happens, don’t open that door for a fucking soul. Got it?”
Emma and Barbara both stared at him, and then looked to one another.
“Come over here, Em,” Barbara said.
Emma glanced at her father. He nodded, and Emma slipped out of her room and ran into Barbara’s.
Sean waited until the door clicked shut. He armed himself with two M-9s, holding one in his hand and securing the other in a thigh holster. He pulled out an HK MP7, which he strapped across his chest, and an M4, which he slung over his shoulder.
Marley followed him to the front door. Though the dog could be an asset, he didn’t want to risk injury to Barbara’s pet.
“Stay, Marley,” Sean said.
The dog sat down and cocked his head to the side.
Sean opened the door and stepped outside. Marley rose and moved forward. “Stay,” Sean said.
The dog didn’t obey him.
“Dammit, dog, stay in there.” He nudged the dog back through the door. He then pulled it shut and pushed against it, verifying it was locked. The tunnel felt hollow and empty. It’d stay that way if he went back inside. For now, at least. If he didn’t take care of the men who’d broken in, they might discover the entrance. Though they wouldn’t get through, that didn’t mean they would stop trying.
Sean planned on leaving the bunker at some point. What would he do if there were an army of men waiting for him?
He decided to take the tunnel to the barn. The first dark spot he reached, he placed the M4 on the floor against the wall. It was risky, but it might come in handy should someone follow him back down. He removed the ammunition clip and placed it in one of the spare pockets of his cargo pants.
Sean rose, glanced back over his shoulder, then made his way toward the barn exit.
Chapter 23
The man kicked the door open. He lingered in the opening. His labored breathing indicated that he wasn’t used to this level of physical exertion. He grunted a few times, and then said, “Who’s down there?” The words meant little to Kathy in her current state. The guy pulled out something shiny. She wanted to reach for it, but restrained herself. His thumb moved along the top, but nothing happened. He yelled something, and then he dropped the shiny object to the ground. He took two steps forward, stopping before the first step. He reached out to the side, where the light switch was. His thick fingers flicked the switch up and down. Nothing happened.
Kathy remained crouched under the long bench that ran the length of the garage. A canvas tarp shielded her body. She’d left a small gap to see through. The ache in her hand and calf had gone. Neither wound seeped crimson fluid now.
The man lumbered down the stairs. He let his rifle lead the way. He turned and faced her direction.
“I know you’re in here. You don’t come out now, I’ll shoot you when I find you. You want that?”
Want?
She knew want. That was what she felt when she thought about attacking the man and sinking her teeth into his flesh.
He took a few more steps forward, poking and prodding at things in front of him with the barrel of his rifle. His breathing was louder now, and it rattled. Patiently, Kathy waited. His thick-soled boots thumped against the floor in rhythm with her heartbeat. He extended the barrel of his rifle toward her. She nodded her head an inch, allowing the tarp to close in front of her eyes. The barrel caught the tarp and pulled and lifted. She held it with her hand. The guy made a sound like a snort. He began poking, missing her at first, but eventually hitting her shoulder.
She stifled a growl.
“What do we have here?” he said.
The sound of his breathing rose to an abnormal level. A wave of odor enveloped her. His sweat mixed with earth. She lifted her head, parting the tarp. She was face to face with the man. His eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open. A hollow, wheezing sound came out of the hole in his face.
Kathy lunged forward. The tarp clung to her body. She wrapped her left arm around the back of the guy’s head, grabbed hold of his chin, and pulled hard to his left. His face jerked sideways, exposing his thick neck. She slammed her head forward and dug her teeth into his flesh. Biting down, she whipped her head side-to-side. The more she moved, the further her bite sank. She pulled back. A wave of fluid spurted from the man’s neck and washed over her face. His body convulsed and then went still. She continued to tear at his flesh with her teeth, feeling stronger with every bite.
Though the man provided her with plenty to feast on, she remembered that there were others with him. They’d invaded her space. It was important to her to eliminate them as well, even if she didn’t know why.
Kathy rose. She stepped over the lifeless body on the floor and headed toward the stairs.
Chapter 24
Sean inched the barn door open and slipped outside. He used his field glasses to survey the area leading up to the house. It was empty. He looked at the rear windows. There was some sky reflection, but he could see a few feet inside and did not notice anyone looking in his direction. He wouldn’t be able to see the front unless he went further out into the field. He didn’t want to do that, though, as it would expose him. He had to get to the house quickly, then take his chances that he was a faster shot than any of the men.
He secured the M9 in its holster and grabbed the MP7. The weapon felt natural in his hands. Aside from moving it around when he purchased it, he hadn’t handled one since Nigeria.
After surveying the house for a couple minutes, Sean rose and moved as quickly as he could across the barren stretch of field. The prosthetic he wore was not suitable for sprinting. He could jog at a fast pace, though, and it allowed him the ability to maneuver easily while walking.
As he approached the house, Sean scanned the area in sections starting from his left. One of the kitchen windows darkened. One of the men, he presumed.
Did they have their back to him, or were they facing him?
The rifle blast that shattered the window and sent a bullet flying his way answered that question.
Sean dove forward, landing on his chest and knocking the wind out of himself. Silence and darkness enveloped him. The pain in his chest made it difficult to determine if he’d sustained any injuries. He managed to get a breath into his lungs. Not much, but enough to start the process. He forced his clenched eyelids open. Tall grass surrounded him. Sean rolled to his left three times. The grass provided cover, but he knew the man who had shot at him would have seen where he went down. Another shot rang out. It hit the dirt a few feet away, sending a cloud of dust a foot into the air.
Sean brought his elbows in and propped himself up a couple inches. His MP7 had shifted to the side. He brought it forward, ensured the safety was off, and switched to three-round bursts. He figured he was thirty yards or more from the house. In this situation, his M4 would have been a better option. He’d left it inside. Sean refused to let a little detail like that derail him. He could make the shot he needed from this distance.
Sean crawled forward. The edge of the patch of wild grasses approached. Once there, he parted it to the side, brought the MP7 close to his face and aimed through the stock open sights. He had both telescopic and laser sights inside the bunker, but had not fixed either to the weapon. Another detail he couldn’
t let get in his way.
He scanned left-to-right and back again. On the second pass, he saw a rifle barrel sticking through a hole in the kitchen window. Target acquired. Sean took a deep breath, took out the slack in the trigger, and prepared to take his shot.
Chapter 25
The last sliver of Kathy’s humanity realized that the area between the garage and kitchen used to be much brighter. She glanced up. A diffused glow hovered around the light. As she lowered her gaze, things returned to the intense black and white she’d experienced in the garage after killing the heavy man.
The satiated feeling had not lasted long. She was prepared to attack again.
Was that because her hunger would forever be insatiable, or was it because she knew there was more available?
The noise that drew her out of the garage erupted again. She knew the sound, having heard it several times over the years. Still, it made little sense to her.
Kathy reached out for the corner of the wall. Her fingertips brushed against the side of the stainless steel refrigerator. It felt dull and cool. She pressed her shoulder to the wall and inched forward.
Three quick, quieter shots rang out, followed by another loud one.
She leaned forward, letting her head ease past the invisible barrier between the kitchen and hallway. A man, much skinnier than the one in the garage, stood with his back to her. He had on a blue and black checkered flannel. The way it hung at his sides, she figured it was unbuttoned. He held a rifle in his hands. The barrel protruded through the window.
My window.
The thought flitted away as quickly as it had appeared.
Though she dragged her wounded leg, she moved effortlessly through the kitchen toward the man. He didn’t seem to notice her. Whatever he shot at held his full attention. She stopped a foot away from the guy. His scent was not as strong as the other. That didn’t matter to Kathy. She wanted to kill even more than she wanted to eat at that moment.