by Bryan Dunn
Six hours later, twilight broke, washing away the stars as the predawn temperature inside Nguyen’s Place fell to a chilly forty-eight degrees.
Sam lay on the floor with only his jacket covering him, drifting in and out of sleep, his legs drawn up, trying to stay warm.
A few feet away, tucked beneath a blanket, Laura lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
She turned her head towards Sam, then smiled. A moment later, she rose, went to him, and gently covered him with the blanket.
A moment after that, she found herself slipping in next to him, spooning against his back. She slid her arm across him, letting her hand run down across his chest.
Sam’s eyes fluttered, then momentarily opened.
“Laura?”
She gave him a hug. “Sshhh…” Then closed her eyes.
Chapter 53
The first rays of sunlight spilled across the valley and ran up the center of town, painting the front of Nguyen’s Place a dusky orange just as the Grogan twins snuck across the front porch—Josh cradling the bowl containing the creeper, and Billy toting his Super Soaker.
Billy ran through town and tucked beneath the base of the water tower, careful to avoid the pool that had formed where the tank’s warped staves sent rivulets of water coursing down its sides.
“Over here,” he called to his brother. “Bring the bowl over here.”
Josh trotted up, placed the bowl on the ground, removed the towel, and took a couple of steps back, just as—
Billy blasted the creeper, aiming a perfect stream of water directly at the bowl.
Responding to the fresh supply of water, the creeper instantly sprang up, sending tendrils dancing in the air, already on patrol for more.
“Oh, man…” said Josh, jumping up and down at the sight. “That is awesome!”
“Unreal!” Billy said, continuing to rain water on the thing.
Josh went up to his brother and tried to get his hand on the gun. “Let me!”
Billy jerked away, keeping the stream trained on the creeper.
“C’mon. My turn. Give me a try.”
“This is gnarly, dude!”
Josh made another grab for the gun. Billy held it away, kept firing, and after a couple more direct hits, relented and let his brother have a turn.
The creeper had tripled in size, covering the bowl and sending wriggling stalks in all directions.
“Go on. Tag it,” Billy said, encouraging his brother. “Tag that mother.”
Josh leveled the gun, took a step forward—and, filling in where his brother left off, hit the creeper with a thick stream. It thrust up and out, its stalks increasing in diameter right before their eyes.
And then, without warning, a couple of stalks whipped around and snaked directly for their feet. They jumped back.
“Fuck me!” Billy said. “You see that? It’s like it wanted to get us or something. Fucking awesome.”
“Yeah… I seen it,” said Josh, looking scared shitless. “Maybe we shouldn’t be screwing around with it.”
“What a pussy,” Billy said, giving him a contemptuous look.
“C’mon… it could be dangerous.”
“Give me that, dickhead,” Billy said, yanking the gun out of Josh’s hands. He worked the pump, slamming more pressure into the reservoir.
Then he lowered the barrel and soaked the creeper again, pouring water directly into the heart of the plant.
“Eat it! Eat it! Eat that up, you freak!”
The last drink that Billy gave the creeper was just enough to send a stalk skittering beneath the water tower and plunging into the pool below, its tip sucking up water like a bilge pump.
As the pool emptied, a visible wave of growth rippled through the creeper. Stalks rose and danced in the air, lethal as poisonous snakes.
What the fuck? Billy thought as he watched the plant. Both boys moved back, the fight or flight response taking over, as a new look of respect crossed their faces.
A low rasping filled the air.
Billy and Josh froze. They heard a high-pitched whistling sound, right in their ears. Then they watched as a thick stalk dropped directly in front of them with a wet thud, kicking up a cloud of dust and chipping some of its teeth as it banged off a rock.
Saucer-eyed and unable to breathe, the twins stood board-stiff as they stared down at the alien-looking thing at their feet.
“Oh shit!” Billy yelled, the air returning to his lungs.
Just as Josh was about to second that—Billy was yanked off his feet as the stalk twisted forward, looped up, and began to coil around his ankle.
Next to them, another creeper skittered across the ground, fell on the discarded Super Soaker, and—using its bony tip—smashed through the body of the gun, draining the water like sucking marrow from a bone.
“Help!” Billy screamed, his voice shrill and hysterical as the creeper dragged him towards it throbbing nucleus, his fingers leaving grooves in the ground as he clawed and scratched, trying to break free.
“Help! Help! Somebody help…” The panicked voice of Josh echoed through the town as he sprinted to the diner.
Chapter 54
Inside Nguyen’s, Sam’s eyes snapped open at Josh’s calls for help. He jackknifed to a sitting position, then suddenly realized he wasn’t alone. Laura was right there.
Lying next to him!
He’d thought it had been a dream. Laura coming to him in the night, then snuggling against his back.
Not a dream.
Holy shit.
“Sam?” Laura said, her voice groggy with sleep. “Sam, what is it?” She looked up at him blinking her eyes, trying to focus.
Sam gave her a funny look that said, What are you doing here next to me?
Feeling suddenly embarrassed, Laura pulled the blanket over her.
“Ah, I was cold, and…”
“Help! Someone help my brother!” Josh leapt onto the porch.
Sam pulled on his boots and jumped to his feet. “The Grogan twins… This better not be some prank.”
He went to the door and pulled it open just as Josh crashed inside. Sam caught him with one hand, steadied him, then gripped his shoulders and spun him around.
“What? What is it?”
“Water tower,” Josh managed. His words came in fits and starts. “The thing… the plant. It has my brother.”
“Stay here.” Sam released him, then bolted out the door with Laura and Curley in hot pursuit.
Billy’s screams hit Sam full force as he sprinted forward. The creeper was now the size of a bus and had sent stalks swirling up the water tower’s legs.
Billy’s hands were clamped around a large rock, and he hung on for dear life as the creeper continued to pull, straining his legs like an anchor line.
“Hang on, kid!” Sam yelled, skidding up to Billy like a runner sliding into home plate, then clamping his hands tightly around Billy’s arms.
“Gotcha!”
Sam adjusted his grip, then looked down and saw flayed flesh where the creeper’s thorns had worked their way into Billy’s leg.
“Don’t let it get me,” Billy pleaded. Then his face crinkled, and he began to cry.
“Try and stay calm. We’re going to get you free.”
Curley raced up and put a hand on Sam, just as another creeper—the one that drained the squirt gun—rippled over and latched onto Billy’s other leg!
“Oh God! No!” Billy screamed, new terror rising in his voice.
Sam watched as the creeper knotted itself around Billy’s leg—and then both of them were being dragged toward the creeper!
Shit.
“Sam!” Laura screamed, seeing that he was being dragged along with Billy.
Then another creeper snaked over and attacked Sam’s leg, trying to latch on. Sam twisted, kicking it away, but lost his grip on Billy, who was now racing across the sand, the two stalks reeling him in like a billfish.
“Hang on, boy!” said Rufus. He charged up, ax held high, and chopped down. Then a
gain. As Billy rolled free, the severed creepers recoiled like bungee cords.
Curley went to help Billy, then suddenly yelled, “It’s Frenching me!”
Billy jumped to his feet and raced back to the others.
Rufus whipped around and saw that a creeper had coiled around Curley’s boot and was slipping up the inside of his jeans.
Rufus spread his feet—and then, in one fluid movement, swung the ax like he was striking a golf ball and cut the creeper in two. Curley hopped free, kicking his leg to shake the end of the creeper out of his pants.
Curley gave him a grateful look and was about to say thanks—when Rufus was slammed to the ground by three whipping stalks and dragged towards the creeper.
“Rufus!” Curley yelled, grabbing the ax. But before he could attempt a rescue, Sam clamped a hand on Curley’s arm, hauling him back.
“No! It’s too late, Curley.”
Rufus yelled…
Then they watched helplessly as he was lifted up into the air and attacked front and back by two massive stalks—their sharp tips flashing back and forth like giant knitting needles—lacing up his chest like a football.
Then his body rose one last time—and he was sucked into the creeper, disappearing for good.
“Everyone back! Get back!” Tommy yelled, as he raced down the center of town, a plastic jug cradled in his arms. He charged right past the stunned faces of Sam, Laura, and Curley, and shot directly towards the creeper.
“I got something for you!”
About five yards out, Tommy stopped and popped the cap on the bottle. Then, using an underhand pitch, he sent the bottle sailing up—and right into the heart of the throbbing creeper.
“Drink it! Drink that, you devil!”
And then out of nowhere, quick as a striking snake, a creeper shot up, looped around Tommy’s waist and began to contract.
Tommy yelled, arms flailing, trying to free himself.
Sam charged up behind him, ax at the ready—but just as he was about to cut the stalk, it went slack, uncoiled from Tommy’s waist, and fell to the ground.
Sam grabbed Tommy, pulling him back to safety, both them out of breath and drenched in sweat.
Then they watched in complete amazement as tendrils shriveled and flashing creeper arms withered and wilted and collapsed to the ground, flaccid and useless.
The plant was dying right before their eyes!
Chapter 55
By 10 A. M., hundred-degree heat descended on Furnace Valley, driving everyone back inside Nguyen’s Place to cool off, mourn the loss of Rufus, and regroup. It had been one hell of a morning. With the sun up, that thing was growing again—and they still had no plan or way to get out.
The Grogan twins, contrite, were huddled with their mother in a booth. Billy’s leg had been expertly cleaned and dressed by Carla.
In another part of the diner, Kristin approached Donnie, walking heel to toe with Darwin balanced on her head.
“Check it out. I’m Carmen Miranda,” said Kristin, smiling at Donnie through a mask of colored feathers.
He looked up, grunted something unintelligible, then let his head fall, staring down at nothing.
Kristin shrugged and then continued across the diner like she was walking on a tightrope, heading towards Maya, hoping to get a rise out of her.
Carla could be heard in the kitchen, banging around with her pots—and Tommy was behind the counter topping up glasses of ice water for Sam, Laura, Curley, and Karl.
Sam lifted his glass, drained half of it, and looked at Tommy.
“What exactly was that you threw on it?”
“Weed killer,” Tommy said, a triumphant look on his face. “Half a bottle of Weed-B-Gone.”
“Nice,” said Curley. “Way to go, Tommy.”
“My God!” Laura said, jumping to her feet. “That’s it!”
“What?” said Sam, taking the words out of everybody’s mouth.
“Poison. A systemic poison. It’s how we can stop it. Kill it.” She pointed at Tommy. “Tommy found its Achilles heel.”
“Commonly referred to by my colleagues as— the short hairs,” Sam said.
Laura cocked her head and gave him a flat look.
“Jeez, will someone please explain to me what she just said?” Curley asked.
“This plant… this thing…” Laura said, pausing to look at each of their faces, “has an incredibly efficient fluid transfer mechanism. I’m not sure how it works, but it’s something to do with an almost supernatural metabolic rate.”
“Um, right…” said Tommy, nodding his head. “I kind of figured that. Its meta, metabolic rate—”
“Apply the right kind of poison to this thing,” Laura said, cutting him off, “and it will travel through the entire organism in a matter of seconds.”
“Great. Sounds great. A grand theory,” Sam said, holding his hands up in a hallelujah gesture. “But that little bush outside was the minor leagues. It was just a little whippersnapper compared to what’s headed our way.” Sam shook his head, adding, “Hell, it would take a whole truckload of that stuff to kill it.”
“Exactly,” said Laura, grinning like a cat.
* * *
The mustard yellow biplane stood in front of Eller’s Garage, the sun glinting off wings and struts. The name Daisyhad been lovingly painted on the fuselage just behind the engine cowling.
“You sure about this?” Karl asked, watching Sam as he climbed into the crop duster’s cockpit. “I just got it running. It needs more work, testing. By all standards, it’s not flight-worthy.”
“Yes, Karl, I’m sure.” Sam dropped into the captain’s seat. “It’s our best chance. We’ve got to risk it.”
Karl frowned and nodded. He knew Sam was right. But it didn’t make him like it any better.
Sam began to familiarize himself with the cockpit, scanning the instrument panel, checking the stick and rudder pedals.
Karl went to the front of the plane, mounted a ladder positioned next to the engine, leaned into the cowling, and began checking and rechecking plug wires, seals, oil lines—anything he might have overlooked.
He shut and locked an access panel, climbed down, and pulled the ladder back. Then he called up to Sam and said, “Okay. See if she’ll crank.”
Sam flashed a thumbs up, placed his fingers on a button, and yelled, “Clear.” Then he pushed the starter. The engine began to turn over. The propeller wheeled through the air. There was a loud pop and a series of backfires.
Soot and smoke poured out of the exhaust port. Sam kept his finger on the starter. The motor sputtered, then caught—and the powerful radial engine roared to life—shaking windows and kicking up a cloud of dust.
Yeah!
Grinning like a schoolboy, Sam released the starter, pushed in the choke, and began working the throttle, running the engine up and down, letting it warm up, the taste of exhaust and sand coating his mouth.
“Alright!” Karl yelled, a big smile on his face. “Sounds good!” Then he thought to himself, At least for now.
Chapter 56
The biplane sat at the edge of town, engine running, nosed out towards the empty desert—and an uncertain fate.
Sam was in the cockpit dressed in an old leather flight helmet, goofy-looking goggles, earphones, and a headset. A silk scarf around his neck would’ve completed the World War II flying ace look.
Lining the road for moral support were Carla, Tommy, Curley, and Kristin.
Sam glanced over and felt a sudden pang of disappointment that Laura wasn’t there. She hadn’t come to see him off.
Karl stood at the front of the plane, where Sam could see him, and gave a signal. Together, they began the pre-flight check.
Sam worked the joystick and foot pedals, causing flaps, elevators, stabilizers, and the rudder to flip-flop back and forth. All was in working order.
“Clear for take off.” Karl yelled, flashing a thumbs-up, then moved clear of the plane.
Nodding, Sam returned a thumb
s-up. Then he ran the engine, gripped the controls—and, just as he was about to release the brakes—
Laura ran up, hopped onto the wing, and climbed into the passenger’s seat, pulling the ball cap she was wearing tight on her head.
Sam backed off the throttle, letting the engine coast to an idle. He released the controls, then cranked his head around and looked at her.
“What are you doing?! Get out!”
“I’m going with you,” she said, yelling over the engine noise, a defiant flush rising in her cheeks.
“No, you’re not!”
“Yes, I am. I want to get a look at this thing from the air.”
“Forget it. Absolutely not. It’s not safe. The plane’s a flying coffin.”
“Then why are you going?”
“Jesus,” Sam said, completely frustrated. It was like trying to reason with a charging grizzly.
“C’mon… Please, just get out.”
“I’m going,” she said, buckling her safety harness, signaling that the discussion was over.
“Fine Then we’re both probably going to die.”
“Here…” Karl yelled, stepping onto the wing and handing Laura a headset and mic. “So you can talk to each other.”
Laura nodded, placed earphones over her cap. Karl leaned in, showed her where to plug them into the com system, checked her safety belt, then dropped off the plane and moved back with the others.
“Sam. Sam. Can you hear me?” Laura said, talking into her mic.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Copy that.” Then she added, “Is that right? Is that what you’re supposed to say?”
Behind the goggles, Sam rolled his eyes and said, “Hang on…” Then he jammed the throttle forward. The plane started to roll and quickly gained speed.
“Tallyho!” Laura yelled, thrusting an arm in the air.
Karl, Tommy, Carla, Kristin, and Curley all watched as the tail wheel rose. Seconds later, after a couple of tentative bounces, the plane lifted off the road, dipped its wings—causing everyone to momentarily catch their breath—leveled, and then climbed steadily into the desert sky.