Horror Sci-Fi Box Set: Three Novels

by Bryan Dunn

  Then both their heads flicked towards the gate as Sam’s pickup came roaring up and pulled to a stop directly in front of them.

  “Get back!” Sam yelled, dropping out of the cab, shocked by the sight of another writhing creeper—this one next to his house! He ran to Curley and Kristin, pulling them over to the truck as Laura climbed out.

  “You guys okay?” Sam asked, seeing how shaken Curley was.

  Curley nodded. “I’m okay. But it got Blossom. Jesus... Sam.”

  “If this is a date orchard… then what the hell is that?” Kristin asked, pointing at the creeper.

  “A bad idea,” Sam said, thinking about Doc and his creeper experiment.

  The sound of rending metal filled the compound.

  All heads snapped up. They watched as the creeper crushed the trough like an empty soda can and spread across the ground like a cancer.

  “I ain’t never seen nothing like that,” said Curley, still rattled. “It’s like really bad Bermuda grass… on crack.”

  “It’s identical to the one we just saw at the Fletcher place,” Laura said, staring at the writhing green mass. “How is that possible?” Then she added, “It’s got to be some mutation. A genetic freak.”

  “That’s exactly what it is,” said Sam. “A genetic freak. Doc Fletcher created it. Named it the Fletcher Creeper. Claimed he’d invented the ultimate drought-tolerant plant.”

  Laura considered that. “Yep, from what I’ve heard, that sounds like dad.”

  Curley looked at Laura, his mind turning, trying to make the connection. And just as he was about to comment…

  “Look,” Kristin said, pointing at the creeper. “It’s trying to locate something.”

  They all watched as tendrils rose up from a creeper arm and began to sniff the air.

  Chapter 35

  “The date palms!” Sam yelled.

  And with that, a creeper stalk wriggled across the sand, looped onto a palm, and began to snake its way up the trunk. When it was halfway up, it stopped and plunged its tip into the palm. Then hundreds of little suckers burrowed into the trunk and began to drain the fluids out of its pulpy flesh.

  “Incredible,” Laura said. “It’s completely predatory, voracious for fluids.” She glanced down at her leg, adding, “Any kind of fluids.”

  “Yeah,” Sam agreed, then he thought to himself, Leave it to Doc.

  Behind them, the air filled with the chilling sound of something scratching across a metal surface. And then like a drill team, they all wheeled in unison—and saw a creeper stalk probe the water storage tank, looking for a way in.

  At the top of the tank there was a sudden clank, clank, clank. A creeper stalk had slithered up the back side and was trying to slip beneath the metal hatch on top.

  “Jesus! The water supply!” Sam leapt forward and sprinted to the tanker truck, which was parked next to the water storage tank.

  “Sam! No! Stay away from that thing!” Laura yelled.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?!” added Kristin, tightening her grip on the machete.

  Laura turned to Kristin, frowned, and gave her a look that said: Nice language.

  “What!” Kristin said, giving her a look right back.

  “I’m not giving up my ranch!” Sam yelled, then stopped in his tracks when a giant stalk slammed down, blocking his path.

  Sam held his breath and stood frozen as a statue. The tip of the creeper rose in the air, moving this way and that, sniffing, trying to locate him.

  “My God! Sam!” Laura yelled, thinking he was done for.

  Sam remained perfectly still and thought to himself, The only way to get to the truck is up and over that thing.

  He took a breath, measured the distance between himself and the creeper, crouched—then sprang up, vaulting cleanly over the bristling stalk, tumbled onto the sand, regained his footing, and sprinted for the truck.

  Sam skidded up to the tanker, slipped along the driver’s side, hauled open the door, climbed in, and—just as he shut the door, a creeper stalk sailed through the air and slammed into it. Thud.

  Creeper leaves tinkled across the hood like falling snow.

  Sam turned the key, then felt another creeper bang off the side of the truck and hit the ground. Jesus Christ, what is this thing?!

  He mashed down on the starter. Nothing, only the dull click-click-click of brushes unable to make contact.

  Shit!

  He raised his foot, then drove it hard onto the starter, praying it would catch this time. More clicking… and then the thing died completely.

  * * *

  “Hang on, Sam!”

  He jerked his head up—and there in the rearview mirror was Curley! Sam watched as he raced towards the tanker, hammer in hand, then disappeared beneath the truck.

  A moment later, he heard the tap, tap, tap, of the hammer striking the starter, trying to coax it back to life.

  Sam waited, eyes skyward, and then stood on the starter. The cab filled with a loud grinding sound, and a second after that, the roar of the Cummins diesel flooded the compound. Way to go, Curley!

  “Yes!” Sam revved the engine, letting the turbocharger scream.

  The passenger door was yanked open, and a dusty, grimy Curley tumbled into the cab.

  Sam raised a hand. They bumped fists. “Way to go, Curl! That was balls-up.”

  “Maybe now you’ll fix that damn thing,” Curley said. But Sam could tell he was proud as hell of himself.

  Sam dropped it into gear. The truck rumbled forward. He added power, jammed it into second, then reached down and pulled a lever.

  At the rear of the truck, twin jets of water shot out from the bottom of the tank.

  Sensing the new source of water, the creeper retracted its stalks. Then, like some ancient sea creature, it peeled its tentacles off the water storage tank, heaved up, and sent eight deadly sucker arms whistling through the air after the tanker.

  Sam slowed, looked in the mirror, and watched as the creepers raced after them. He continued another twenty yards, then stopped, letting the greedy suckers catch up and attach themselves to the rear of the truck and begin to drink.

  Chapter 36

  Sam killed the engine and looked at Curley. “Okay, we’ve got to get to the main water tank. We’ve got to blow the valves. All of them!”

  “But, Sam…” Curley protested. “That’s exactly what that thing wants!”

  “Just do it, Curley. It’s our only chance to save the ranch.”

  “Yeah, sure Sam. Okay…”

  “On the count of three, we make a run for the tank.”

  Curley gave him a dubious look, then nodded okay.

  “Here we go… One, two—”

  And on three, they slammed open their doors, dropped to the ground, and ran hell for leather towards the storage tank.

  Sam got there first, fell on the primary valve, and began to open it, his hands becoming a blur as he spun the valve. Water flooded around Curley’s boot as he rushed up to Sam.

  “Curley, get the drain at the rear. I’m going up top to open the hatch. It should increase the flow.”

  Curley hustled around the base of the tank and opened the secondary valve.

  Sam leapt onto the ladder, scrambled to the top of the tank, worked his way to the hatch, and then popped it open.

  “Sam!” Laura yelled, not believing what she was seeing. “Are you out of your fucking mind? Get off there!”

  Kristin whipped her head around at Laura, giving her the same disapproving look that Laura had given her earlier.

  Laura stared back, shrugged. So…

  Sam jumped on the ladder, then came down it like a fireman on a pole and grabbed Curley. As water pooled around the base of the tank, they sprinted across the sand, rejoining Laura and Kristin at the side of the compound.

  Chapter 37

  As the last drops of water drained from the tanker truck, a malevolent rasping filled the air. They looked over and watched as the creeper freed itself
from the truck, its swollen stalks dropping off the tank like ticks from a dying animal.

  As each arm thudded to the ground, it snapped around, then went skittering across the sand, ready to gorge on the fresh supply of water pooling around the main storage tank.

  “It’s working,” said Sam, as thirsty creeper stalks raced to the tank, preparing to feed.

  “Are you crazy?!” Laura looked at Sam. “That’s exactly what it wants.”

  “No, look…” He pointed to the ground around the tank.

  They all watched as the water pooled, but just as quickly disappeared beneath the sand.

  “The ground is like a sieve around here. By the time that thing repositions itself—most of the water will be history.”

  “Man, look at that mother go,” said Curley, saying what they were all thinking. Creeper stalks encircled the tank like a squid’s tentacles around a clam. And then began to drink.

  “Come on,” Sam said, motioning to everyone. “We don’t have much time.”

  “What about the palms, Sam?” Curley said.

  Sam looked over at the rows of stately palms and frowned. “There’s nothing we can do. There’s no stopping this thing. But at least it doesn’t have access to more water.”

  He waved to the group. “Come on.” With Sam in the lead, they fell into a line and trotted over to the tanker truck. Sam grabbed Laura’s hand, boosted her into the driver’s side, then jumped in after her as Curley and Kristin scrambled around to the passenger’s door.

  A shrill squawk erupted across the compound. Darwin swooped down, landing on a storage rack bolted to the roof of the tanker.

  Curley got his hand on the door and pulled, but it was stuck. He yanked again and again—but it wouldn’t budge.

  And then directly behind them, a whistling sound…

  “Come on! Open it!” Kristin yelled, anxiously hopping up and down.

  There was a thud. Kristin wheeled. Not ten feet away, a creeper stalk raced directly towards her, thorns brisling.

  “Son of a bitch!” Curley yelled, jumping up on the truck’s kick. Then using both hands, he hauled on the door again.

  In the cab, Laura leaned over and banged on the door from the inside.

  One last mighty pull, and the door popped open. Curley swung out and grabbed Kristin’s hand. As he pulled her inside, the creeper shot up, wrapping around his ankle.

  “Jesus!” Curley yelled, feeling thorns bite into his skin through the coveralls. And just before Curley was pulled from the side of the truck and turned into a human Slurpee—

  Kristin yelled, “Fuck me!” Then sliced down with the machete, cleanly severing the stalk and freeing Curley.

  Curley leapt in next to Kristin and slammed the door. Sam cranked up the diesel, the starter motor working perfectly this time.

  There was another high-pitched sound, then a thump, as a creeper stalk dropped across the hood, glanced off the windshield, then made a hideous sound as it scraped along the side of the tanker.

  In perfect unison, they all yelled, “Shit!”

  Sam jammed the truck into gear and dropped the hammer. The truck jumped forward and roared towards the exit…

  A moment later, there was another thump as the truck bumped up and over something and bogged down…

  A massive creeper slid around the rear axel, coiled, and began to slow the truck!

  Sam eased off on the gas. He reached down, slipped the deuce and a half into six wheel drive, dropped it into low, then stood on the gas. Black smoke shot up from the truck’s twin stacks. The turbo charger screamed—and as the powerful diesel wound up, the front rose, straining against the load.

  The creeper coiled tighter, stretched to its limit. There was a tearing sound, then a loud snap! The stalk parted and the tanker rocketed forward, shot out through the entrance gate, and sent Darwin leaping into the air.

  Inside the cab, everyone let out their breath with a sigh of relief, glad to be free of the thing. Darwin settled back on the roof as Sam backed off the gas, letting the truck find a safe track on the road.

  “My God,” said Laura. “What has my father done?”

  Chapter 38

  “Come on, baby,” Amber said, pulling on Vinny’s arm, trying to get him to join her in the bedroom. “Let’s get busy. I have to be back at the casino in less than an hour.”

  “Am I gonna see you later?”

  “You know I can’t.”

  Vinny looked at her for a moment, then jerked his arm free and went to the kitchen.

  Amber threw her hands up and said, “Your loss.” Then she disappeared into the bedroom.

  Vinny stood at the kitchen sink, poured himself a shot of Jack Daniels, gulped it, and was about to have another when he noticed the little pot containing the clipping he’d taken from Fletcher’s place.

  He reached out, turned on the water so there was a steady drip coming out of the faucet, lifted the clipping, and placed it in the sink. Then he stripped off his T-shirt, grabbed the bottle of JD, and went to the bedroom.

  * * *

  Rufus Smoot stepped out of the ancient-looking outhouse located behind Eller’s Garage, let the door slam shut, then stared at the old structure with a look of pure satisfaction.

  As he went to hitch up his pants, something fell out of his pocket and dropped to the ground. Rufus bent and picked it up. It was the clipping that Doc had given him earlier in the week. He’d forgotten all about it. Rufus was about to slip it back in his pocket, then changed his mind. He turned, opened the outhouse door—and, grinning ear-to-ear, leaned inside and pitched it down the hole.

  “If you can make it down there, you can make it anywhere.”

  * * *

  At the front of the garage, Karl was leaning over the fender of Rufus’s old Dodge, fixing something in the engine compartment.

  “Nice crapper, Karl,” Rufus said, rounding the building and joining Karl beside his car.

  “I didn’t know you were a connoisseur, Rufus,” said Karl, backing out from beneath the hood with a laugh.

  “A nice crapper is a nice crapper.”

  “Okay… if you say so,” he said, wiping his hands on an oil-stained shop rag.

  Rufus put a hand on the fender, leaned into the engine compartment. “What about my radiator?”

  “Needs a new hose.”

  “I know it needs a new hose, Karl. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Yeah, well… I don’t exactly have the right one.”

  Rufus straightened, gave Karl a direct look. “Well, shit… fake it, Karl.”

  “That’s what I’m doing now.” Karl leaned back under the hood and tightened a hose clamp. “This is off an old Impala. Can’t guarantee it, though.”

  “Karl, look at this car. The thing’s got more spare parts than Frankenstein’s monster. A used Chevy hose is perfect.”

  Chapter 39

  Lester Moon’s goat farm was completely quiet except for the sound of buzzing flies. Thousands of them. They crisscrossed back and forth through the hot desert air—all of them headed for the same place—the feed trough.

  The pens were empty. There was no sign of Lester—or any goats, for that matter.

  But they were there, just the same…

  You just couldn’t see them. Because all six goats had been transformed into creeper pincushions. Their backs were exploded open, and hide and hair had been replaced by writhing creeper stalks—some of them waving goat entrails through the air like flags.

  The loud buzzing was momentarily drowned out by the sound of the tanker truck as it rumbled into Moon’s farm and pulled up next to the house.

  Sam killed the engine and everyone climbed out, with the exception of Kristin and Darwin—both of them happy to wait with the truck.

  “Lester!” Sam yelled. Then he turned to the house and yelled again. “Hey, Lester!”

  “Maybe we should look for a cave filled with gold,” said Laura looking around.

  Sam gave her a funny look. “What?” The
n he reached in the truck and grabbed the machete.

  “Nothing,” she laughed. “It has something to do with cheese. Lester loves cheese.”

  “I like cheese,” Curley said, then looked at Laura as if she might suddenly produce a block out her back pocket.

  “Jesus.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Curley, go check the barn.”

  “By myself?” Curley asked, a genuine look of concern on his face.

  “Yes. Think you can handle it? We’ll go check the main house.”

  Curley took a step in the direction of the barn, stopped, then wheeled around. “Hey, maybe she’d like to go check the barn with me?”

  “She’s going with me,” Sam fired back, his voice louder than he had intended. Laura looked at Sam, a curious smile forming on her face.

  “Curley. Please. Go check the barn, see if Lester’s there.”

  Defeated, Curley started for the barn, then said, “It’s just not fair. You’ve got the machete and the girl.”

  Sam looked over and saw Laura staring at him, her eyes boring right in. He suddenly felt embarrassed.

  “I had no idea I was so popular.”

  “I just figured you’d rather see the house,” said Sam, sounding more and more flustered. “That’s all I meant.”

  “Yes, well, I’m flattered,” said Laura, letting him twist in the wind.

  “It’s no big deal. What’s the big deal?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “What’s the big deal?”

  “Right,” he said, as they started towards the house…

  “Oh, Jesus! Oh, lord…” Curley stood at the edge of the goat pen, staring in at the six eviscerated goats. “Oh, Christ.” Then he slumped against the fence.

  Sam and Laura raced over, joining Curley at the pen.

  “My God,” said Sam, looking at the goats.

  “Lester must’ve had a clipping,” added Laura.

  They all jumped as the air exploded with a loud metallic bang-bang-bang…