Horror Sci-Fi Box Set: Three Novels

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Horror Sci-Fi Box Set: Three Novels Page 51

by Bryan Dunn


  Her comment hung there, filling the room with dread.

  Rufus laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it. “Well, honey, that would sure be a concern someplace else—but this is Furnace Valley. Our annual rainfall can hardly be measured.”

  “I hope you’re right,” said Laura, staring at the alien-looking clipping. “Because if just one of these things finds an unlimited supply of water—it could devastate the entire state, maybe the country.”

  Tommy placed a protective arm over Carla’s shoulders. “But that can’t happen, right?”

  “No. Not if we keep it together,” said Sam, reassuring the group. “Listen, if any more clippings turn up—bring them here to Nguyen’s, and one of us will destroy them.”

  “And for God’s sake, keep them away from water,” Laura added.

  “Or Karl’s crapper,” Rufus chortled.

  Chapter 44

  The first stars appeared in the dying twilight above Big Caliente Hot Springs as the skies darkened over Furnace Valley.

  Steam rose from a large spring-fed pool, the mineral-rich, hundred-degree water filling the air with the pungent smell of sulfur.

  Next to the pool, a mesquite wood fire crackled and popped, the dense logs shooting jets of orange flames into the night sky. And next to that, Donnie and Spider lay passed out in a litter of empty beer cans.

  On the other the other side of the pool—as far from Donnie and Spider as possible—Lander and Maya stood in a circle of candles arranged on a slab of sandstone that jutted over the water. Golf ball-sized crystals hung from their necks, and both of them wore Puck-style crowns fashioned from twigs of sage.

  Lander clapped. Then both of them put their hands together and bowed their heads.

  “Mind. Body. Spirit,” Lander said, in an earnest, guru-like voice. “See with the inner eye. Listen with the heart.”

  He clapped again. “Air I am, Fire I am, Water, Earth, and Spirit I am. The circle shapes us, body and mind, heart and soul are one.”

  “Repeat after me… “We are one with the infinite sun, for ever and ever and ever.”

  Together they began to chant, “We are one with the infinite sun, for ever and ever and ever… we are one with the infinite sun, for ever and ever and ever…” Their flat, monotone voices ran together, creating a buzzing sound that drifted into the desert night.

  After about two minutes of that, Lander clapped again. Both of them stopped chanting. Then they raised their heads, taking in deep breaths to center themselves.

  “My guide, the great Xander, says that with discipline and focus it is possible to attain complete consciousness. Earthly needs for sleep and food will cease. And we will be nothing but light.”

  Lander clapped again. Then, in reverential voices, they said, “Gaia carry us home. Gaia be praised.”

  Maya went to Lander and gave him a hug. She looked up at the sky. “I love it out here. We should come more often.”

  “It’s cool,” Lander said. “Very spiritual.”

  Lander stepped off the rock, careful to avoid the ring of candles. He lifted a kettle off a camp stove, filled two mugs with tea, handed one to Maya, then waved his cup beneath his nose, inhaled deeply and took a sip.

  “Mmm, what is it?” she asked, tipping the mug.

  “Bedtime.”

  Maya laughed. “You mean, Sleepytime.”

  “Oh… yeah, Sleepytime.”

  “Bedtime sounds good, too,” Maya giggled.

  “Yeah, it does,” he said, letting his eyes trace the length of her body.

  Lander took another sip of tea, swirled it in his mouth. Then he reached into a leather pouch slung at his side, removed a sprig of sage, and crumbled it into his tea. He was about to taste it when he stopped and reached back into his pouch, removing the creeper clipping he’d bought off Tommy.

  He stared at it for a moment, thinking to himself, Did that thing just move? Then he shook his head, pinched it in half, and was about to drop it in his tea—when Donnie emerged from his stupor, grabbed a bong, filled it with Humboldt’s finest, and held it up in Lander’s direction.

  “Hey, douche bag. Want a hit?”

  Ignoring him, Lander waded into the pool. He dropped the clipping in his tea, took a sip, then tilted the mug and drained it—and just before it was empty, he felt something slither down his throat! Lander jerked the mug away from his mouth and looked inside. The sage was there, but creeper clipping was gone. Lander stared at the bottom of the mug, then shrugged and said to himself, I must have swallowed it by mistake. And then he thought, But it didn’t feel like a mistake… it felt like it slithered down!

  Lander shook the creepy feeling off, cleared his throat, and took a few more steps into waist-deep water when he suddenly clutched his chest—and, unable to speak, yelled, “Aaaarrrghh!”

  “Lander!” Maya called. “What is it? Are you having an epiphany?”

  Choking and grabbing his throat, Lander tried to say something, but all that came out was, “Mmummphf… Aaaarrrghh… Ummph…”

  He suddenly straightened. Then he arched his back—and, like a replay of that scene from Alien—his ribcage split apart, and a fist of baby creepers thrust out of his chest, whipped back and forth, then plunged their tips into the water, and began to drink.

  Lander’s eyes bulged. Tendrils poured out of his ears. His tongue swelled, then exploded with thorns like an overripe prickly pear. A moment after that, there was a loud bang! His skullcap popped, and his head was suddenly covered by a freakish halo of medusa-like tendrils.

  Maya screamed and backed away in shock.

  “Fuck me!” Spider yelled, as he and Donnie scrambled to their feet.

  “Help him!” Maya pleaded, waving for Donnie and Spider to do something.

  Donnie just stood there, frozen, staring slack-jawed at the sight of Lander turning into a bush. Spider lurched forward, ran into the water, and stopped, realizing Lander was already way beyond help.

  And then, before Spider knew what was happening, he was hauled off his feet and dragged beneath the surface, a submerged creeper wrapping around his ankle.

  “No! God, no!” Maya screamed. Then she turned and ran as fast as she could to the camper van. Behind her, the creeper literally exploded with new growth as it gorged itself on the mineral-rich water.

  Chapter 45

  Early the next morning in Nguyen’s Place, Sam, Laura, Kristin, and Curley were lined up at the counter, drinking coffee and trying to recover from a long night spent on the floor with nothing more than blankets.

  Kristin’s Goth look was completely shot to hell. She had washed off her make-up and wore a flannel shirt borrowed from the store’s rack.

  Tommy stood behind the counter clutching a cordless phone. He started to dial, then stopped and looked at Sam. “Um, what exactly do I tell the sheriff?”

  “Tell him to leave his gun at home and bring a Weed Eater,” said Karl, stepping up to the counter.

  Tommy held the phone out. “Sam…”

  Sam took the phone, frowned. “I thought Carla called earlier.”

  “She was going to, then she wanted me to, and then with Rufus and all…”

  “Is there someone else? Someone closer we could call? Another agency?” Laura asked.

  “Not really,” Sam said. “Maybe the CHP. But they have an even bigger territory. No, Templeton is the one to call.”

  Sam raised the phone, punched in the sheriff’s number, and—

  Nothing, not even a dial tone.

  “It’s dead.”

  “What?” Tommy said.

  Sam hit the redial button. Waited. But the phone was clearly out of service.

  “Nothing,” said Sam. He shook his head. “Maybe the line’s down.”

  “Doesn’t make sense,” said Karl. “We haven’t had any high winds. Only time the phone goes down is when we get a blow.”

  “Maybe it’s—”

  But Curley was cut off when the front door opened and Donnie stumbled in, calling, �
��Help! Help me!”

  “Donnie!” Kristin yelled, shocked by his condition.

  He looked like he’d been to hell and back. His face was streaked with blood and dirt. His arms and hands were covered with welts and scratches. His clothes were tattered and

  torn from staggering through cactus and desert scrub.

  Donnie took a couple more steps—but his legs gave out, and he spilled to the floor.

  Sam and Tommy rushed over, lifted Donnie, and carried him to a corner booth in the diner. Kristin gently covered him with a blanket, then put a hand to her mouth and shook her head—overwhelmed by the sight of Donnie and what was happening.

  Laura came over with a bowl and a damp towel and began to mop away the grime and blood that covered his face.

  “What happened?” she asked, as Carla arrived with a glass of water and a first aid kit.

  Donnie looked up at Laura. With a trembling hand he grabbed the glass of water and took a drink. Then he needed help placing it back on the table.

  “Something, something horrible… Something horrible has happened up at the pool.”

  “Big Caliente Hot Springs, you mean?” Sam asked.

  Donnie nodded. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out, slumping against the wall in shock.

  “Get his feet up,” Carla said.

  “I’ll get another blanket,” Laura said. She squeezed Sam’s arm, giving him a concerned look, then went for the blanket.

  Chapter 46

  Karl Eller’s wrecker, a heavy-duty 4x4 International, climbed the steep pass that led to Big Caliente Hot Springs—and the world beyond Furnace Valley.

  It was late morning, and the air temperature had already crossed the hundred-degree mark. Inside the cab, Karl was behind the wheel, Curley was seated in the middle, and Sam was on the far side, riding shotgun.

  Sam reached out and flipped on a two-way radio, then grabbed the mic and keyed it. “This is Furnace Valley Towing, come back…”

  Sam waited a minute. He was about to try again when Karl looked over and said, “Don’t waste your time, Sam. Signal won’t carry over the mountain.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive. The thing came with the truck. Useless as tits on a boar.”

  Curley reached up, tapped Sam’s shoulder, then in a soft voice said, “Sam…”

  Ignoring him, Sam returned the handpiece to the dash, leaving the CB on just in case.

  “Sam,” Curley insisted, his voice rising an octave or two.

  “Jesus Curley, what?” he snapped.

  Curley raised his hand. Then using just one finger, he pointed out Sam’s window.

  Sam cranked his head over, looked out—and immediately saw what Curley was referring to.

  It was a creeper stalk—huge and thick as a sewer line—snaking down the hill directly toward the road!

  “Holy Christ!” Sam yelled, stunned by the size of the thing.

  “What? What is it?” Karl asked, tightening his grip on the wheel.

  “Over there. Hard right.” Sam pointed. “Moving down the hill.”

  Karl leaned forward, looked past Curley—and saw the giant creeper, its thorns glinting in the sunlight as it snaked down the slope.

  “Son of a bitch. Is that what I think it is?”

  “It’s huge,” Curley blurted. “How? How can it be that big, Sam?”

  “I’m guessing one of Doc’s clippings found some water. A lot of water.”

  A moment later, the truck dropped over a rise—and, looming directly ahead, a towering knot of creepers rose off the desert floor in the shape of a fountain.

  Primitive. Malevolent. It looked like something out of Greek mythology. Giant tentacles danced in the air—pulsing, throbbing, hissing—as it grew and grew and grew.

  Karl jammed on the brakes and the truck skewed sideways, skidding to a halt on the hardpan.

  The three of them remained in the cab, saucer-eyed, staring through the windshield at something the world had never seen before.

  The cab filled with a loud rasping as stalks with giant thorns rose up from the creeper’s center, spilled outwards, and splashed onto the desert floor.

  They opened their doors and cautiously emerged from the cab, all of them trying to get a better look at exactly where it was coming from. Then they heard a hissing like the sound of escaping gas. It was the sound of the creeper transferring water to its extremities.

  “Makes the others look like houseplants,” Karl said in awe. “That big bastard’s gotta be sitting right on top of the hot springs.”

  “All the water it needs,” Sam added grimly.

  “I don’t like this, Sam,” Curley said, taking a step towards the truck.

  “Keep it together, Curl,” Sam said in a low voice.

  “Wow. Oh, wow…” Karl pointed. “Look at that!”

  Sam and Curley turned and saw a matrix of creeper stalks knitting themselves around a high voltage tower and snaking out along the power lines.

  “That’s what happened to the phones,” Karl said.

  Sam nodded, then said, “At least the power’s still on.”

  Just then there was a loud pop! and a white flash as the power lines arced, sending sparks cascading to the ground.

  “Well, maybe not,” Sam said flatly.

  “Come on, let’s go!” Curley said, his hand on the truck door. “That thing could be setting a trap, doubling back on us.” He yanked open the door and swung into the cab.

  Sam was staring up at the pass. “Jesus…”

  The main road leading up and out of Furnace Valley was now completely covered with undulating creeper stalks.

  “The whole damn valley is sealed off,” said Sam as the creeper threw stalk after stalk across the road.

  “Shut tight as a frog’s ass,” Karl said, shaking his head.

  Chapter 47

  Sam and Karl moved back to the wrecker—and, just as they were about to climb in, Sam heard a girl’s voice. It was muffled and distant. It echoed up from the canyon below. It sounded like she was calling for help.

  “Wait,” Sam said. He moved past the truck and walked over to a dirt track that disappeared into the scrub. It was more of a deer path than a road—and it looked like it led right to the edge of the advancing creeper.

  Shit.

  “What is it, Sam?” Karl asked.

  Sam shushed him. “Listen.” There it was again—the muffled pleading of a girl’s voice. “Help. Please, someone help me…”

  “Gotta be one of those kids who came in yesterday… the campers,” Karl said, straining to see where the voice was coming from.

  Sam placed his hands around his mouth.

  “Hello! Hey, we can hear you. Keep yelling. We’re coming.”

  They waited. Then they heard the girl again—louder now, and with hope in her voice.

  Sam was in the lead as he and Karl picked their way down the hill, hiked over a rise, then came to a stop when the path disappeared beneath a thicket of writhing creeper stalks.

  From twenty yards out they could hear the girl’s voice loud and clear—but they still couldn’t see her.

  They continued forward, a few feet at a time, ever-watchful for striking creeper arms, and then both of them froze when they saw—

  Two yellow eyes peering out at them from inside the tangle of creepers.

  Headlights.

  A van’s headlights.

  “Hey! Is that you? Are you in the van?” Sam yelled.

  The horn began to honk in a series of short blasts. Honk-honk-honk-honk…

  Then it stopped.

  “Okay. We got you,”

  The horn sounded again. Honk. Honk.

  “Alright, sit tight. We’re going to get you out of there,” Sam said, trying to sound reassuring. “Honk if you understand.”

  Honk.

  “Better turn your headlights off to save the battery.”

  A moment later the headlights winked out.

  Karl grabbed Sam’s arm.
“Are you crazy? We can’t go near that thing.”

  “Come on, Karl—there’s no time.” Sam started back up the trail. “I’ve got everything we need back in the truck.”

  Chapter 48

  Sam opened a door on the side of the wrecker’s utility box and pulled out a duffle bag.

  “What the heck is that?” Karl said, huffing up behind Sam.

  “An insurance policy.” Sam unzipped the bag. “Or, Plan B as I like to think of it.”

  “Plan B?” Karl gave Sam a look that said, I don’t have a clue .

  “Right. Plan B. As in B for bonfire.”

  Curley dropped out of the cab, feeling safer now that Sam had returned. “What are you talking about? Nobody said anything to me about a Plan B.”

  “That’s because the only thing you ever hear is what comes out of your own mouth, Curley.” Sam reached into the bag and removed a can of gasoline, jars, and torn strips of cotton rag.

  “That’s not true, Sam,” Curley protested. “I always got one ear to the ground.”

  “Right,” said Sam in a skeptical tone. He turned to Karl. “Go ahead, Karl. Tell Curley about Plan B.”

  Karl looked at Curley, scratched his chin. “Near as I can tell—the B stands for bullshit.”

  “Bullshit my ass.” Sam grabbed the can of gasoline and shoved it into Curley’s hands. “Fill these halfway with gas, Curl.”

  Curley took the gasoline, lined up the jars, and began to fill them.

  Meanwhile, Sam reached into the truck, retrieved one of the Grogan’s Super Soakers, and held it up for Karl to see. “Instant flamethrower.”

  Karl looked at it and shook his head.

  “A squirt gun? Okay, it’s official. The plan is bullshit.”

  “You’ll see.” Sam knelt next to Curley. He took the strips of cloth, inserted one end into the filled jars, then replaced the lids.

  * * *

  Sam, Karl, and Curley approached the creeper. All of them were amazed to see it had increased a third again in size during the short time they were gone.

 

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