by L. T. Ryan
The man turned his head to the side and let out a thick, phlegmy cough. Kathy leaned to her right, attempting to stay out of his peripheral vision. Again, he did not take note of her. His right arm came up, elbow out. The barrel of his rifle rose. The guy cleared his throat.
“Time to die, asshole,” the guy in the flannel said.
Kathy reached up and wrapped her hand around his right bicep.
“What the hell?” the guy said, looking over his shoulder. He jerked back. The rifle rose and shattered three more panes of glass.
She whipped her left hand around his neck and pulled back with both arms.
The guy screamed and discharged his weapon.
Chapter 26
Sean ducked when he heard the shot. His mind registered that the weapon had been pointed at the sky.
A scream sounded like it came from within the house.
“Kathy,” he said.
Sean rushed to his feet and began jogging toward his home. He glanced to the left and right of the house, at each window and over his shoulder, ensuring no one followed him.
A man called for help.
Sean extended his MP7 away from his chest. He had fired one shot, using three rounds. That left him with twenty-seven more bullets, or nine three-round bursts. He made a line for the back door, disregarding any sense of caution. He climbed the four steps to the back deck, and then threw his shoulder into the wall next to the door. Turning the handle, he found it locked. He peered through the paned glass and saw no one. Using one of his M9 pistols, he broke the pane nearest the handle, reached through, and unlocked the door.
A man pleaded from further within the house.
Sean lunged through the doorway. What he saw in the middle of the kitchen made him stop in his tracks. He’d seen plenty during his time as an Air Force PJ. There wasn’t a battle wound he hadn’t dealt with. But the sight of the man on the floor, his unbuttoned blue and black checkered flannel scrunched up under his shoulder blades, his head hanging on by a flap of skin, torso ripped open, guts spilled out to the side, almost made him vomit.
It wasn’t that the wounds were gruesome.
He knew who did it. And he didn’t want to face that.
Chapter 27
“Get off of him,” a man wearing a white t-shirt with cutoff sleeves said.
Kathy lifted her head to see who spoke to her. Warm blood coated her cheeks, chin and jaw. She felt the fluid dripping down her neck, across her chest, and down her stomach as she rose.
“Jesus Christ.” The guy tried to run backward. He tripped over his own feet and fell backward to the floor.
Kathy started toward him. Now satiated, ending the guy’s life was her sole intention. The sight of his mouth opening and closing, like a fish out of water, as he pleaded for his life made her angrier.
The guy used his elbows and heels to scoot backward. His shirt caught on something and tore on the side. Kathy didn’t rush. She matched his pace. Sooner or later, he’d run out of room. She no longer thought rationally about what she was doing. The fact that there was at least one more man somewhere in her home or on her property escaped her now.
The man rolled over when he reached the stairs. Puffy black hair lined the back of his arms. He got to his hands and knees. He started to ascend the staircase, climbing up like a young toddler. Kathy stepped up with her left, then dragged her right foot up. She repeated the process, step-by-step. The guy managed to distance himself from her. At the top of the stairs, he stood. She saw him from the waist up. His shirt had some blood on it. She continued to climb as he looked around. He ran toward the rear wall, then returned with the computer printer. The cord dangled as he hoisted the machine over his head. With a yell, he tossed it in her direction. It headed straight for her. She gripped the banister with one hand and held the other in front of her face. Though she leaned back, the printer connected with her forearm, breaking her ulna. She yelled out in pain.
The guy turned and ran to the rear of the room again.
Kathy picked up her pace, disregarding the dull ache in her arm. She reached the top of the stairs and came face to face with the guy. Sweat poured down his face. The collar area of his white t-shirt was soaked in sweat. He brandished a fire poker at her. She groaned. He swung it side to side in front of her. She didn’t react. He’d strike soon enough. It played out in pictures in her mind. She saw the attack, and saw her defense.
Soon she would have her opportunity to take advantage of the situation.
“Come on, bitch,” the guy in the sweat and blood soaked t-shirt yelled. “Attack me now, you freak.”
She felt the corners of her mouth twitch.
The guy drew his right leg back and lifted the fire poker up and over his head. His body twisted away from her. He let out a yell. The weapon started on a trajectory over his shoulder and toward her. She flung her broken right arm up in an effort to intercept the blow. The metal rod came down hard on her arm. A loud snap indicated that the second bone in her forearm had snapped. She felt a sharp pain, which instantly dulled. Her eyes went to the spot of the wound. The skin on her forearm had ruptured. Four ragged ends of bone stuck out. Blood squirted straight up in the air.
The man drew in a quick, shallow breath.
She shifted her gaze toward him. He focused on the gruesome sight of her arm. Again, the corners of her mouth twitched.
She lunged forward as she drove her left arm up toward his neck. Her fingers found his Adam’s apple and squeezed as she pushed him toward the rear wall. Her grip tightened. She felt his neck crush in her hand. His yells, once audible, were nothing more than a whisper now. She leaned in and tore at his cheek with her mouth. The flesh ripped away from his face like gristle on a steak. His feeble attempts to swat her with the fire poker were brushed off. She leaned back and drove her knee into his stomach.
He went limp.
She leaned in, pinning him with her upper torso. She grabbed his right arm and yanked, separating his elbow and shoulder. She grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He was in her grasp and there was nothing he could do about it. Kathy lunged forward and sunk her teeth into his neck, biting and pulling until she tore through his jugular. Warm blood pulsated across her face and hair. The guy dropped to the floor.
Kathy stood over him, panting, ready to find the fourth man.
Only he found her first.
A blast rang out, coinciding with a burning in her upper torso. She flew five feet to the side, smashing into the wall. Somehow she managed to hold herself up until he fired again. This time she fell. She supported upper body with the wall. She looked down and saw that the last shot had blown her leg off at the knee.
How fitting, human Kathy interjected.
She struggled to pull herself toward the guy in the blue shirt.
“Not another inch.” The man fired once again.
Chapter 28
Sean left the corpse in the flannel shirt behind and headed toward the staircase. He’d heard the sounds of a struggle up there. Before he got a foot on the first footstep, a rifle blast reverberated throughout the house. He dove to his right, placing him underneath the loft. A second shot rang out. Sean settled himself, wrapped his hands around his MP7 and backed into the opening with his eyes and weapon aimed upstairs.
He saw a man in a blue shirt standing in front of the hallway that led to the bedrooms. The guy held a rifle. Before Sean could say anything, the guy fired a third time.
Sean squeezed his trigger. His aim was off. Two bullets slammed into the wall. The third penetrated the guy’s shoulder. A crimson bloom filled out the man’s shirt, and he stumbled backward, disappearing from sight.
Sean took the stairs a step at a time. He slowed down as his head rose above the second floor. It was silent, except for labored breathing. He got a visual on where the man in the blue shirt was. The guy had rolled over and struggled to get to his hands and knees. Sean exploded up the stairs. The guy spun around on the floor, coming to r
est in a sitting position. He’d lost his rifle on his way down to the floor.
“Please don’t shoot,” he said, his hands extended in front of him. “Was just saving my friend from that thing over there.”
Sean cast a quick glance over his shoulder. His wife lay in a heap on the floor. Beyond her, another guy in what used to be a white t-shirt lay on the floor, drenched in blood.
Without a word, Sean squeezed the trigger three times. The first three bullets hit dead center. The next three penetrated the guy’s skull. The final three went into his gut.
Sean’s arms began to tremble. It had been years since he’d fired his weapon at another person. He’d never taken out an unarmed man before.
He shuffled in a semi-circle, taking in the sight of the man he presumed his wife had killed. When he completed his turn, he saw her on the floor. She had moved.
“Kathy,” he said. “You still alive?”
She said nothing. Her chest rose and fell. Blood pooled on the floor by her severed leg and around her torso.
Sean walked over to her. He knelt down and shifted her head in his hands. Protocol didn’t matter at that moment. Kathy’s eyes opened and she looked up at him. She smiled. Though her wounds appeared mortal, he knew that if she was anything like those beings in Nigeria, she wouldn’t die from them. Not quickly, at least.
She also would never be his wife again. This was not Kathy. A monster lay on the floor in front of him.
Sean pulled himself up and took a few steps back. Confusion spread across Kathy’s face. Her smile faded. She turned her head. A grimace washed over her. When she looked back at him, he saw a faint glow in her eyes.
She forced herself into a sitting position. There should have been pain, but she felt none. She continued forward, tucking her legs behind her. Sean took a step back. Kathy reached out with her left arm, dug into the carpet, and dragged herself forward. Her mouth was open. Any recognition of him had passed.
“Stop,” Sean said. “Please, don’t come any closer.”
She groaned, reached out and pulled herself forward again. He took another step back, placing him at the edge of the stairway.
“Just go back to the corner and let it go,” he said.
She groaned louder, and again, she pulled herself toward him.
Sean started down the stairs, backward at first. After five steps, he turned and moved faster. He heard her banging against the railing above as he reached the bottom step. She let out a shriek. He looked up in time to see her pull herself over the railing and drop toward him. Sean dove into the living room. He scrambled forward until he reached the couch, which he used to get himself to his feet. When he turned around, she had already made it halfway to him.
“Don’t,” he whispered.
She ignored him.
Sean reached up and wiped his eyes with the back of his left hand. Then he gripped the MP7, aimed at Kathy’s head, and pulled the trigger twice. Five of the six shots penetrated her skull.
It took a minute for him to compose himself and come to grips with the act he’d committed.
After he did, he walked around her lifeless body and followed the blood trail. He accounted for the two bodies upstairs, and one in the kitchen. He’d seen four on the security feed when the truck arrived. Kathy had been in the garage, and when he entered it, he found the heavy-set man, who appeared to have been flayed alive.
Long slivers of light came in from the bullet holes in the garage door. Bits of dust floated through the rays. Sean walked past the man, unlocked the garage door and pulled it open.
“Fuck!” He saw Barbara’s car, Kathy’s motorcycle on its side in the grass, and his truck, which had four flat tires. The truck the men had pulled up in was gone. There had been a fifth man.
That man knew something had happened, and he got away.
And Sean feared he’d be back.
And who knew how many people he’d bring with him.
Chapter 29
Addison rode with no thought of when or where to stop. She’d passed several potential places to camp, but continued on. Her arms, legs, and butt ached. Her clothes were soaked from passing through a creek that was deeper than she had anticipated. The garments felt like they’d been left in the freezer overnight. Her muscles began to cramp.
How much longer until I die from hypothermia?
She spotted what appeared to be an opening under a rock that was covered with dirt and leaves. Sunlight hit the top of the structure and coated it with its warming rays.
She slowed down and came to a stop in front of the cave. Her ears rang. Her body vibrated. Her nose was so numb she couldn’t smell anything. She swung her leg over the seat, put both feet on the ground and steadied herself. Birds sung. Wind rustled through the trees. Aside from that, there was no noise.
She walked up to the narrow opening and peeked inside. The darkness made it near impossible to see anything. Addison entered, stopping a foot or so past the threshold. She opened her eyes wide and waited for them to adjust to the lack of light. A few minutes later, she determined that the space was only about five feet deep and maybe ten feet across. It angled off to the side, making it hard to be sure.
The air was warm and the floor was dry. It didn’t matter how big it was. It’d work for her.
She exited the cave and went to the ATV. It would be best to hide it rather than leave it out in the open. She pushed it around the mound and then scavenged for a few leaf-covered branches, which she used to cover the vehicle. In the end, it wasn’t pretty. If someone got too close, it wouldn’t fool them. But for what she needed, it did the trick.
Next, she stripped out of her clothes and placed them on the side of the mound where the sun shined brightest. Again, they’d easily be spotted if someone passed close by, but other than that, they blended in well enough. She climbed down to the ground. The cool air coated her naked body. To her surprise, it felt warmer than her clothes had.
She hurried to the front and slipped inside the cave. Her body began to warm, muscles relaxed and her teeth stopped chattering.
Addison crawled to the back of the space and lay down. Thirty minutes inside the warm, dry space transformed her. She began to think rationally for the first time since escaping. She decided it had been a bad idea to leave the ATV and her clothes outside, but could not muster the energy to go out and move them. Besides, if she did, she’d have to travel that much further out in the open while naked.
Caring less about her possessions, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Despite being exhausted, she managed to nap for only a few minutes at a time. When she heard footsteps outside the cave, she sat up. They seemed to stop in front of the opening. She rocked forward to her hands and knees and started to crawl. The entrance came into view, but there was no one there.
She waited, alert and tuned into the environment. She heard the steps again, moving away from the cave.
The ATV, she thought.
She could not let someone get away with the machine, or her clothes.
She rose, pressed her back against the wall, and sidestepped toward the opening. She caught the edge of the passing breeze. The mustiness nearly caused her to sneeze. The footsteps approached. She shuffled backward. Whoever was out there stopped. Addison had to do something.
“Who’s out there?” she shouted.
No one responded.
“I’m just passing through. I mean you no harm.” She waited. Again, there was no response. She took a few steps, stopped and leaned forward, letting her head protrude from the opening. She saw no one.
“Hello?”
Her words were met with complete silence.
She stepped out the cave, looked left and then turned right. Leaves crinkled, twigs snapped and a blur raced toward her. She fell backward into the rock. At once, her hip and upper thigh ached. Addison hit the ground. She managed to scramble to her knees in time to see a deer run away.
She fell forward, letting her elbows and forearms
hit the ground. How foolish! She wrapped her hands around the back of her head. That had been too close. Her heart raced faster than if she’d been sprinting.
“Get it together, girl,” she said.
The sounds of the forest filled the space surrounding her. Addison hurried to where she had left her clothes. They were still a bit damp, but nothing like they had been. Her skin cooled as she slipped them over her body. The wind wouldn’t cut as badly as it had. It would help to dry her garments once she got moving.
She climbed onto the ATV and glanced around. The spot was pretty well hidden. Perhaps worth coming back to should she need a place to stay long term. The cave felt safe. After five hours of riding, she figured she had made it far enough away from lunatics who tried to enslave her.
Still, she wanted more. And she wanted it to be even further away.
Addison grabbed the key in the ignition. She heard the sound of a chainsaw in the distance. It was too faint to tell which direction it came from. She decided that the cave might not be that safe a spot after all.
She turned the key and drove away, heading south. The sun shone directly above. Thin beams of light slipped through the web of leaves overhead. She estimated she had six hours of sunlight left. She had that much time to find the highway, although she’d settle for a road. The danger here was in turning back or deviating from her path. She knew she had to stay true, otherwise she’d waste precious time.
Addison snaked her way around trees, being careful to stay on course. Sooner or later she’d end up somewhere. That was inevitable. Highway 58 cut across southern Virginia like a barrier. Keep heading south and she’d get there. Gas and supplies would be plenty along the road. The trip to her grandparents would only be a matter of following I-85 south. It didn’t matter how long it took, as long as she was on the correct path.
She wondered if cell service still existed, or if any areas still had power. A week in the little camp had left her clueless as to what the rest of the world faced.