by Bryan Dunn
“Is it my eyes—or does that thing look bigger?”
“It’s your eyes,” said Sam. “Now help me find those headlights.”
He moved forward cautiously. “Hello in the van! We’re back. If you can hear me—flash your headlights.”
They waited. Nothing—no lights—no sign that she was still alive.
* * *
Just then, inside the van, Maya screamed as the rear window cracked and shattered, the safety glass fragmenting into hundreds of opaque pellets. She dropped low in the driver’s seat and began to toggle the light switch back and forth, praying they’d see her.
“Help me! Please hurry…”
* * *
Sam was about to yell again when the headlights snapped on—then began to flash. But they were harder to see now, buried deep within the burgeoning creeper.
Karl and Curley lined the jars up next to Sam, arranging them in a neat row for easy access.
Sam tossed Karl a gas lighter, then faced the creeper and yelled to Maya.
“Okay, can you start the engine?”
There was a long silence—then the sound of a whining starter motor. The engine caught and roared to life.
“We’ll mark that down as a yes,” said Sam, grabbing the Super Soaker.
“Alright, when I say floor it, drop it into gear and hit the gas. And don’t stop till you’re in the clear. Then he added, “Honk twice if you understand.”
Honk. Honk.
“Go time,” Sam said, as he turned to Karl and Curley. “Okay guys, light the jars—and on my signal, throw them as far into that thing as possible.”
Sam pumped the handle of the Super Soaker, pressurizing the gasoline he’d added earlier. He adjusted his grip on the gun, then advanced towards the creeper. When he was about ten yards out, he raised the Super Soaker and began to coat writhing tentacles with a thick stream of gasoline, waving the barrel back and forth like a lawn sprinkler.
After half the gasoline was drained, he scrambled back and yelled for Karl and Curley to throw the jars.
“Now!”
With flaming jars in their hands, Karl and Curley rushed forward and hurled the jars, sending them up and over the mass of boiling creeper arms.
Two seconds later the first jar exploded—and the crown of the creeper erupted in a giant fireball, filling the air with thick black smoke.
Sam charged up, raised the Super Soaker, and began to hose down writhing creeper arms. Using the gun like a flamethrower, he picked up flames and looped lines of fire across the entire organism.
When the Super Soaker ran dry, Sam dropped it, raised his head, and yelled at the top of his lungs, “Floor it!”
Above the roar of the flames, they heard the engine scream, then redline, as—
The camper van exploded out from the inferno in a spray of burning creeper stalks, sending flames sheeting across the ground like napalm.
The three of them were forced to dive out of the way as the van blasted past, its roof ablaze with gas-soaked creeper arms. The van rocketed forward three hundred feet, then lurched violently sideways as Maya braked, skidding to a stop in a cloud of dust and smoke.
Sam raced up to the driver’s door, reached for the handle, touched it—and yanked his arm back. After covering his hand with the cuff of his shirt, he pulled the door open, and Maya—sweat-soaked, white as a sheet, and slipping in and out of consciousness—slumped into his arms.
Karl ran up and joined Sam. Working together, they lifted Maya out of the van—pulling her clear just as the camper’s gas tank let go, lifting the rear wheels off the ground and engulfing the vehicle in flames.
Chapter 49
Night settled over the town of Furnace Valley. The air was still and quiet, and the temperature finally eased, dropping into the eighties. The excited calls of a pack of coyotes issued out of the blackness as their first meal of the evening was run to ground.
Inside Nguyen’s, Tommy was in the middle of passing out cold beers to Sam and Karl when the lights dimmed and flickered—and then grew bright as the diesel generator hiccupped and caught again. They all let out of sigh of relief as the generator settled back into a monotone hum.
Across the room, using a table as a makeshift surgery, Laura and Carla tended to a burn on Maya’s leg.
“This doesn’t look too bad.” Laura daubed a patch of reddened skin. “There’s no blistering or swelling—it’s probably just a first-degree burn.”
“You’re going to be fine, hon,” Carla said, adjusting a pillow beneath Maya’s head.
Maya looked up at them, her face filling with gratitude. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She managed a smile, then whispered, “Thank you.”
Laura smiled and touched her arm.
“We should probably get some ice on this.”
“Coming right up,” Carla said, taking off for the kitchen.
Kristin and Donnie were at a corner table eating wedges of apple pie. Carla had insisted they have some, telling them it would make them feel better.
“I can’t believe what happened to Lander and Spider,” said Kristin, chasing a bit of crust around her plate with a fork. “I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah,” Donnie managed, barely acknowledging her. “Unbelievable.”
“It must’ve been horrible.”
Donnie just nodded, still traumatized.
“Oh, and your eyes—what I said before—I didn’t mean it.”
“What?” Donnie looked puzzled.
“They’re okay. Not too close together. Your eyes.”
“What?”
“Jesus.” Kristin grabbed her plate and stood. “What’s the use.” She shook her head, then left for the kitchen.
Sam took a swig of beer. He placed it on the counter and spun the base around a couple of times.
“That thing was flowing out of the spring like hot lava.”
Karl nodded. “A day, maybe two—it’s going to eat the whole town.”
“You say it’s coming down the valley?” Tommy said, the fear plain on his face. “It’s headed this way?”
“You should have seen it,” Curley said. “This one was huge. Not like the others. Had arms on it like giant—”
“What are we doing sitting here?!” Tommy said, cutting him off. “Let’s go! Let’s get out while we can!”
“Good idea, Tommy,” Karl said, finishing his beer and clapping it down on the bar. “Only the road is completely blocked, covered by that thing. Like I told Sam—blocked up tighter than a frog’s ass.”
“Wait. We could walk out,” countered Tommy, a hopeful look on his face.
Karl shook his head. “A hundred miles on foot… in this heat?”
“Karl’s right,” Sam nodded. “Walking is out, and the road’s not an option. I saw one tentacle that must’ve been a mile long, running right down the pass.”
Chapter 50
“That tentacle sounds like a scout,” said Laura, joining the group at the bar. She held a bowl covered with a towel and placed it on the counter.
They all turned in her direction, eyes on the bowl.
“A scout?” said Sam, giving her a direct look. “You mean like ants?”
“Right. A parasitic sucker that acts like an above-ground root. It’s searching for new sources of water.”
“Or fluids from anything else,” Curley added, rubbing his neck.
Laura continued, “From what I’ve observed, this thing employs aerial roots. After it puts down the radical—the first root—it spreads and then roots again. The secondary roots act like anchors. They prop up the spreading limbs. That’s how this thing creeps so successfully.”
Sam nodded and took a sip of beer, pondering what Laura had said.
“You really think this is a good time to be drinking?” she asked, staring at the bottle in his hand.
“This isn’t drinking. We’re just having a cold beer.” Sam took another swig.
Laura rolled her eyes, exaggerating her movements. “Oh
, that makes a lot of sense.”
“I do some of my best thinking over a cold beer.”
“Great… someone alert Bill Gates, Sam Rainsford is having a beer.”
“Hey, it’s how I got the idea for seedless dates,” Sam said, a little defensiveness creeping into his voice.
Laura scoffed. “Are you referring to the dates back at your place? The ones full of seeds?”
“Alright, go ahead—it’s easy to be skeptical—but it will happen, it’s just a matter of time.”
“And I’m sure you’ll be widely celebrated by the fruitcake industry.”
Karl erupted in laughter. “Ha! The fruitcake industry. Good one!”
Sam shook his head, took another sip of beer, then defiantly blurted, “Yeah, well Ms. Beecham, right now we need a plan. We need a helluva good idea—because in a few hours, we’re all gonna be plant food for daddy’s little experiment.”
The room fell silent.
“C’mon,” Tommy said anxiously. “We should leave, we’re wasting time. That thing’s on its way right now.”
“Actually not,” said Laura, in a calm, controlled voice.
“How do you know that?” Sam asked.
“Because it doesn’t move at night.”
As everyone tried to get their heads around that, Karl leaned forward. “Excuse me ma’am, but you weren’t there. You didn’t see that thing. It’s huge. Totally out of control. And growing like a cancer.”
All eyes were on Laura, waiting for her to respond. Instead, she picked up the bowl, then motioned with a finger and said, “Follow me.”
With the group in tow, Laura walked to a dimly lit corner table. A desk lamp had been placed there, and next to it, a glass of tap water.
She positioned the bowl beneath the lamp and removed the towel. An inch-long section of creeper sat in the bottom. Then she faced the group.
“Watch.” She looked at Sam. “Although I’m aware it’s easy to be skeptical.”
Sam gave her a look. He mashed his lips together and shook his head.
Laura grabbed the glass and filled the bowl partway up. The clipping bobbed on the surface, rising with the water.
Everyone watched, waiting for the creeper show, expecting to see it spring up and spill out of the bowl.
But nothing happened.
The creeper remained unchanged, floating harmlessly in the swirling water.
Just as Rufus was about to make one of his observations, Laura reached out and flicked on the lamp. The bowl was instantly flooded with an intense beam of light.
The creeper twitched and sprang to life, greedily consuming the water. Thirty seconds later, the bowl was drained, thirsty creeper arms spilling over its sides.
“I don’t see how that proves anything,” said Curley, adjusting his cap.
“Sunlight,” Sam said, watching as the creeper probed and searched the tabletop. “The thing needs light to grow.”
“A phenomenon commonly referred to by my colleagues as— photosynthesis,” Laura said flatly.
“I knew that.”
Laura reached over, grabbed the beer out of Sam’s hand and took a sip.
“You’re right. This does focus the mind.”
Chapter 51
“We could walk out at night,” Tommy said, talking to Carla who sat next to him at the bar. “It can’t move then. It would be safe.”
“Baby…” Carla said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “If you’re talking about walking out of this valley—you’ll be going without me. Nighttime. Daytime. Anytime. My feet hurt after a day of running around the kitchen. A hundred miles on foot? Uh-ah. Not me.”
Loud footsteps echoed on the front porch. A moment later, everyone’s faces fell when the door swept open and the Grogan twins, followed by their disheveled-looking mother, clattered into the diner.
Billy Grogan, still in possession of his Super Soaker, spotted the creeper that now lay dormant in the bowl. He raced over and pointed his gun at it.
“Hey!” Karl yelled. “Keep that thing away from there!”
Mrs. Grogan stepped up behind Billy and yanked him back from the table. “Listen to Mr. Eller! Put that gun away.”
“That stupid thing’s not going to go after a squirt gun,” Billy protested. “What an idiot.”
Mrs. Grogan’s hand flashed out, smacking Billy squarely on the side of the head.
“My ear!” Billy screamed, dropping the gun and clutching his ear.
“Shut your ugly mouth,” Mrs. Grogan said, shaking him for good measure. “A hot ear is gonna be the least of your problems if I hear you smart-mouth anyone else.”
“So that’s the way to communicate with them,” Karl said to Rufus, covering the bowl with the towel.
“Those kids should be Velcroed to a wall somewhere,” Rufus said under his breath.
Josh Grogan spotted Sam and made a beeline for him. “Hey!” Josh said, looking up at him, the corners of his mouth clotted with the remains of a chocolate bar. “Where’s my Super Soaker?”
Sam gave Laura a little smile, stepped around the counter, reached underneath it, and then held up the squirt gun. Its body was scorched and covered with soot and dust.
He held the Super Soaker out to Josh. “There you go, squirt.”
Josh took it, his mouth falling open with disbelief as he examined the charred weapon. He stared at Sam, started to say something, stopped, then turned and yelled, “Mom!” Then went running off to show her what the mean man had done to his toy.
“Hey, it still works,” Sam said. Then whispered to Laura, “Except for the melted trigger.”
When Josh approached his mother, Billy pointed at the ruined Super Soaker and burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter. “Ha! What a loser.”
Carla swept over and put an arm around Josh, who was about to burst into tears.
“You kids come with me. Let’s see if I can find you some ice cream.”
“How about a little ratpoison,” Rufus whispered to Karl, both of them watching as Carla ushered the twins and their mother to a booth, then grabbed a bowl of potato chips from the next table and set it in front of them.
“Why don’t you and the twins stay in the spare room tonight?”
Mrs. Grogan nodded okay, her mouth already filled with potato chips. Then she mumbled, “You got any samwiches to go with the chips?”
“Sure. Sure we do.” Carla gave her a smile, walked to the bar, and joined Tommy behind the counter.
“Fix the Grogans up with some of those ham sandwiches. They’re going to be spending the night.”
“What?” Tommy said, giving her a Have you lost you mind? look. “The twins, staying here?”
“Yes,” Carla said. Then she faced the room. “In fact, maybe you’d all like to bunk down here for the night.”
Laura looked at Sam, nodded. Kristin frowned. Maya had her eyes closed, trying to sleep. Donnie slumped, slipping further into his chair. Karl, Rufus, and Curley stared at the counter, silent. Darwin ruffled his feathers but held his squawk.
“Sure. Why not?” said Tommy, throwing up his hands in surrender. He went to the kitchen, returned with a plate filled with ham sandwiches, and placed them on the bar.
“You might as well eat on the house, too.”
Curley reached out and fished a sandwich off the plate. “That offer include a wedge of Carla’s pie?”
“Yeah, yeah. Sure,” Tommy said, not hiding his contempt. “Since I’m giving away the piano… might as well throw in the bench, too.”
Chapter 52
“You realize this makes two nights in a row…”
Sam reached across the table and took Laura’s hand as they sat in a booth illuminated by a single candle, the soft glow catching the highlights in her hair. The generator had been turned off for the night, and everyone else was tucked into bedrolls scattered throughout the diner.
He couldn’t stop looking at her. God, she was beautiful.
“What do you mean?” Laura asked. But she kne
w exactly what he was talking about.
“Sleeping together. Two nights in a row.”
“We haven’t been sleeping together.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Sam said, drawing back a little. “What I meant was—what I’m trying to say is—it just struck me, you know, like maybe there’s some destiny at work here. A higher power, or whatever…”
“No.” Laura pulled her hand free. “This whole trip… Sam, it’s been a disaster. And now we’re all one bad move away from being devoured by some genetic freak my father created.”
“I don’t feel that way,” Sam said, looking right into her eyes. “Not at all. It’s been good for me. Personally. It’s been a wakeup call. I’ve been on the run from life—not wanting to feel or think or look at things. Now, for the first time, I want to stop. I want to forgive. I want to rebuild.”
Laura felt a rush, just like the first time she saw him. Right in the pit of her stomach.
Love is spontaneous. She believed that.
But she just couldn’t go there. She couldn’t let her guard down, not now, not with what had happened to her father, Not with that thing racing towards them. Vulnerable was the last thing she wanted to feel. So, instead, she played it cool.
In a flip tone, she replied, “Great. I’m happy for you. Cancel your plans for therapy. Hey everybody—Sam Rainsford just had a breakthrough. Forget the fact that four people are dead—one being my estranged father—and in a couple of hours the town is going to be swallowed by a predatory plant the likes of which the world has never seen.”
Laura stopped. They fell into an awkward silence.
Sam stared at her, smiled, then dropped his eyes and shook his head. “Hey, sorry… forget it. Forget I ever brought it up.”
Suddenly feeling like he might suffocate, he slid out of the booth, went to the front door, quietly pulled it open, and stepped outside. He drew in a deep breath, then went to the edge of the porch and stared up at the stars.
* * *