Horror Sci-Fi Box Set: Three Novels

by Bryan Dunn

  Shit!

  Outside, five creepers had attached themselves to the rear end, swirling around the water tank like a Kraken’s tentacles around a ship’s hull.

  Inside, Kristin kept blasting creepers through her window as Laura revved the engine, then dumped the clutch. The big diesel screamed. The front of the truck rose up. The rear wheels began to hop up and down… and seconds later, Laura and Kristin were slammed back in their seats as the tanker broke free of the creepers and shot towards the open desert beyond.

  Standing next to their vehicles, Sam, Karl, Curley, and Tommy watched as the deuce and a half blasted out of the creeper wall and rocketed into the clear, leaving torn creeper stalks spouting sap like freshly severed arteries.

  Seconds later, like water flowing around a boat’s hull, the path they’d just blazed through the creepers disappeared, already covered by newly formed stalks.

  Laura and Kristin screamed for joy as they rumbled up to the waiting group. Laura brought the tanker to a stop, and as she killed the engine, Sam hauled open her door, swept her into his arms, and kissed her. And then everyone was hugging each other.

  “Sam… we did it!” Laura exclaimed, as he lowered her to the ground. “It worked!”

  “Yeah,” Sam sighed with relief and broke into a smile. “Who knew?”

  “Holy Lord, look at that!” Karl said, staring back towards town.

  Everyone turned to watch as creepers swept into Furnace Valley, crushing everything in their path.

  “Come on,” said Sam. “We’ve got to keep moving.”

  Chapter 73

  Beneath the threatening sky, the little caravan regrouped, rolling towards the mountain pass and the safety beyond. Sam was on point, wrestling the deuce and a half through a tortured pieced of desert littered with razor-sharp rocks and thick patches of cactus. Snaking along behind were the 4x4, Tommy’s Jeep, and Karl’s tow truck.

  Sam eased his grip on the wheel as the scrub thinned and they settled onto a smooth section of desert.

  Laura leaned out her window, drew in a deep breath, and turned to Sam.

  “My God… I think it finally might—”

  “Rain,” Sam said.

  And sure enough, the heavens opened, and it began to pour. Gigantic raindrops soaked the parched ground and hammered the top of the cab like someone was throwing gravel at it.

  “Incredible,” Laura said, looking out at the desert monsoon. “What was it Rufus said…?”

  “Right…” said Sam. “I wish he was here to see this.”

  Laura nodded, and they both fell silent.

  Outside, the visibility shrunk to zero as the rain continued sheeting down. Sam slowed the truck and leaned forward, straining to see through the windshield.

  “I can’t see a thing. We may have to stop.”

  Just then, Sam’s hands were thrown from the wheel. The tanker swerved violently to the left, its right side lifting off the ground as it slid into a shallow ravine and came to rest on its side.

  Laura was thrown across the cab and slammed into Sam, who had just managed to put the truck in neutral and kill the engine.

  “Jesus Christ. Are you all right?” said Sam, his face mashed against the window.

  “I’m okay,” she said, but she sounded pretty rattled. “Nice catch,” she added, peeling herself off his side.

  The next thing they knew water, was splashing down on them as Karl opened Laura’s door, stuck his head inside, and said, “Jesus, you guys okay?”

  * * *

  Behind them—no, all around them—creepers spread across the valley. Their fleshy-looking flowers yawned open, greedily gulping the torrents of water.

  With each drink, the creepers literally exploded, gobbling up acres like starving animals. The town of Furnace Valley was gone, swallowed up. And now, farther down the valley, the unthinkable was happening as they reached the California aqueduct and poured stalk after stalk into the limitless supply of water.

  Chapter 74

  Sam and Karl walked around the fallen truck, checking the damage, seeing if they might be able to right the tanker with Karl’s tow truck.

  The others remained in their vehicles, staying out of the downpour. All of them wondered if they were about to be overwhelmed by slithering creeper stalks—wrapped up, smothered, sucked dry.

  “What do you think?” Sam yelled over the roar of pounding rain.

  Karl emerged from behind the rear axle, yelling in return, “I’m not sure if—”

  All of a sudden he stopped talking—the sound of his voice hung too loud on the air. The rain… it was over! Just like that! Like someone had turned off a valve.

  Sam and Karl exchanged shocked looks as Laura ducked out of the cab. “The rain?”

  “It stopped.” Sam held up his hands. “It just stopped.”

  The clouds began to lift. A moment later, the air was filled with a piercing whistle… like the sound of a five hundred pound steel bomb falling through the air. W-h-e-e-e-e-e…

  The whistling got louder and louder… and then they saw what it was…

  The entire desert floor surged up. A giant green swell rose before their eyes. And a hundred-foot wave of writhing, bristling creeper stalks swept across the valley towards them—the leading edge snapping and whistling as spindrifts of tendrils peeled off the lip.

  “Jesus God…” Sam said, as they stood watching the destruction.

  Curley ran up with Kristin and Tommy in tow, the three of them pulling up short when they saw the approaching wave of creepers.

  And then Curley suddenly yelled: “Bugs!” He danced up and down, swatting his face and neck as grasshoppers plowed into his body.

  Kristin screamed and covered her face. Then they were all ducking and swatting, trying to dodge the grasshoppers that appeared out of nowhere.

  “My God!” Laura pointed at her feet. “Look at the ground!”

  The ground literally moved beneath their feet as grasshoppers emerged from the wet sand, spread their wings, and leapt into the air, their brightly colored bodies as big and fat as sparrows.

  “What the hell?!” Karl yelled, scattering grasshoppers with a swipe of his hand.

  “Locusts!” Laura yelled back. “They’re swarming.”

  Sam looked at her. “You mean like… a plague of locusts?”

  “Right. Desert locusts. Emerging because of the water.”

  Inside the Jeep, the Grogan twins began to cry, bawling like little girls as grasshoppers—shot like bullets from a gun—thudded into the Cherokee, denting door panels and shattering windows. Darwin flapped in the back, squeezing between the roof and a duffle bag.

  “Mom!” Billy cried. “Mommy…”

  Behind the Jeep, in the pickup, Maya screamed and latched onto Donnie when her window shattered and locusts poured into the cab.

  “We’ve got to find cover,” Sam yelled.

  “Sam… Look!” Laura pointed out at the valley.

  Sam whipped around and saw a black wall rising on the horizon—a maelstrom of airborne locusts—rolling across the desert like an advancing army. Brush, scrub, cactus—anything edible—was instantly devoured.

  “Sam, help…” Laura screamed, wiping handfuls of locusts away from her mouth as the air around her face choked with wings and legs and snapping mandibles. “I can’t breathe!”

  “The tanker!” Sam yelled. “Get everyone inside the water tank.” He bolted to the toppled deuce and a half and hauled open the hatch.

  Karl and Tommy went to get the others, covering their faces, crouch-running to the vehicles.

  Laura and Kristin scrambled to the tanker. Sam made a stirrup with his hands, boosting them up to the hatch and inside the tank. Karl, Tommy, and Carla were next, leaving Darwin, who refused to move from his hiding spot in the back of the Jeep.

  After everyone was safely inside, Sam hauled himself up and pulled the hatch shut—leaving it cracked just enough for air.

  Packed like sardines in the pitch-black tank, everyone
fell silent as the plague descended. Grasshopper bodies slammed into the truck, ricocheting off the metal tank like spent rounds spit from a million machine guns. The unbearable racket made everyone cover their ears and bury their heads. Everyone was thinking the same thought: Are we about to die?

  Chapter 75

  Outside their protective cocoon, directly overhead, a pitched battle raged as the boiling creeper-wave slammed into the swarming locusts.

  Grasshoppers tore into flashing creeper stalks, devouring leaves, flowers, tendrils, thorns—everything!

  The surging creeper lashed out—left, then right—but was helpless to defend itself against the plague of locusts. They swarmed and ate and swarmed and ate—airborne piranhas, stripping life and limb from everything in their path.

  An hour later, it was over. The desert was flattened, like a nuclear bomb had been detonated.

  Nothing was left except sand and silence.

  The sound of scraping metal broke the calm as the hatch on the water tank clanged open. Sam poked his head out, took a tentative look around, and then called to the others, “It’s over.”

  He emerged from the hatch, dropped to the ground, and stared out awestruck at the denuded landscape. He took a step, then stopped when a crunching filled his ears. Dead grasshoppers carpeted the ground—their broken and ruined bodies already returning to the soil from whence they sprang.

  “Sam,” Laura said, her head appearing in the hatch.

  “It’s okay.” He went to the tank, took her arm, and helped her out.

  “Thank God…” she said, stepping onto the ground.

  Sam was about to release her, but then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. They kissed again—holding each other—happy to be alive.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” Curley said, watching them from the hatch.

  “Nothing,” said Sam, releasing her.

  “Hmm. It didn’t look like nothing.”

  “Come on, Curley. Get out of there and help me with the others.”

  Sam, Laura, and Curley helped the others out of the tank, all of them amazed by what they saw—and all of them grateful to be out of the dark, humid enclosure.

  “Jesus H,” Karl said, looking at the naked landscape. “I can’t believe we survived.”

  Tommy bent down and retrieved a dead grasshopper, holding it up for Karl to see. “You can thank these little buggers.”

  Karl looked at the grasshopper, then nodded.

  “They’re actually good to eat—considered a delicacy in some parts of the world,” added Tommy.

  “Oh, stop,” Carla said. She took the grasshopper and threw it down. “You’ve never eaten a grasshopper.” Then she gave Tommy a big kiss.

  Sam and Laura stood side by side, staring out at the desert—collecting their thoughts—still not believing what lay before them.

  “Well,” Laura said, “My dad always was kind of a showoff.”

  Sam looked at her. Then they broke into laughter.

  Donnie shuffled out of the truck, his feet making a trail through the litter of grasshoppers. He stopped, then turned in a slow 360.

  “Fuck me.”

  “Been there, done that,” Kristin said, giving a teary-eyed Maya a hug, seeing if she was okay. Maya sniffed and wiped her chin, laughing in spite of herself at Kristin’s comment.

  “Put those down!” Mrs. Grogan yelled, waving to Billy and Josh who were busy collecting dead grasshoppers, both of them ignoring her.

  Mrs. Grogan was about to yell again when a loud squawk caused everyone to wheel towards the Jeep. Another squawk, and Darwin flapped out, scattering grasshoppers and landing on the roof.

  “Darwin!” Kristin yelled, running to greet the macaw.

  Good bird, Sam thought to himself, glad to see Darwin had survived.

  And then something miraculous happened…

  The sun came out.

  The clouds lifted. A palpable wave of relief swept through the group. Everyone was grateful for the warm, life-giving rays that flooded down, lifting their spirits and drying the soaked earth.

  Chapter 76

  Battered, windowless, but still running, the deuce and a half—with the Jeep and the tow truck following—rumbled up to the edge of downtown Furnace Valley. They were immediately stopped by a CHP officer who dropped out of a Chevy Tahoe with flashing lights, his hands held high, indicating for them to stop.

  Behind the officer, Caltrans plows were busy clearing the road of grasshoppers as two more CHP vehicles rolled into town.

  Overhead, a sheriff’s helicopter circled, then banked away towards Big Caliente Hot Springs.

  Amazingly, the town was mostly intact. Some of the smaller houses on the outskirts had been flattened, plus the water tower, but Nguyen’s Place was still standing—and Eller’s Garage had survived, too.

  Sam and company dismounted their vehicles and were met by the officer, who looked amazed to see them.

  “What are you doing out here?” he said, stepping up to Sam and Laura.

  “We live here,” Sam said. “Furnace Valley is our home.”

  The officer stared at Sam. Then he said, “Okay—maybe you can tell me what-in-the-hell happened out here? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Just as Sam was about to explain, Curley lurched up—and in a rush of words blurted:

  “There were these huge man-eating plants. They had octopus arms, but instead of suckers they had these thorns and they would grab you and wrap you up and suck you dry. They were everywhere—the hills, the valley—everywhere. Sam tried to kill them with Karl’s biplane, but he crashed. The plants got Doc and Lester and Rufus and a hippie and some guy named Spider. And they almost got me. Then they bloomed and it rained. And then the grasshoppers came. Millions of them. Then we hid in the water tank—and when we came out—they were gone. Everything was gone. The grasshoppers ate everything.”

  Curley stared at the officer, catching his breath, waiting for him to respond.

  The officer frowned, then turned to Sam with a skeptical, give-me-a-break look. But Sam was nodding in agreement.

  They were all nodding.

  “Yep,” Sam said. “That’s what happened.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Tommy and Carla were busy sweeping out the store with Darwin supervising from his favorite spot in the rafters. Karl and Curley had gone to check on the garage. Kristin, Donnie, Maya, and the Grogans were being loaded into CHP vehicles for transport back to Los Angeles.

  Next to the store, Sam and Laura stood together, an awkward silence surrounding them as they tried to say goodbye. So many things left unsaid.

  “Anyway…” Laura said, looking suddenly very uncomfortable.

  “Laura…” Sam said, scrambling for the right words. Any words. But they wouldn’t come.

  “I should probably go,” she said, pointing to the waiting CHP vehicles.

  “Oh, yeah, right… Yeah, you should go.” But everything inside him was screaming, I can’t believe you’re leaving! Don’t go! We should be together!

  “I told them about my father. About Doc. They’re going to send a coroner up to his place and have the remains sent to L.A. I’ll let the family know.”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

  “Sam…” she reached out and put a hand on his arm. “I thought I came out here to make some sort of peace with my father. But that’s not true. I came out here to confront him. I came out here to tell him what a jerk he was for abandoning me and my mother, for walking out on us when I was a baby. I wanted to say it to his face. I wanted to hurt him like he hurt me.”

  Sam reached up, took her hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “Now that he’s dead—all that anger, and all those feelings of wanting revenge, have drained away. I just feel sad. Not for myself, for him. For what he missed.”

  “It sounds like you might be ready to forgive him.”

  She looked at Sam, nodded. “Maybe I am.”

  “Will you stay in
L.A?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  Sam was about to tell her he didn’t want her to leave, that he loved her, when—

  “Mr. Rainsford, Sam…” Kristin said, approaching them. “I wanted to say goodbye. And to thank you for the room and letting me come to your place. And to tell you that you’re definitely not a perv.”

  Sam laughed. “Well, I’m glad we cleared that up.”

  “Here,” Kristin handed him a sketch. It was a beautiful line drawing of the palms. “I hope your trees are okay,” she said, then leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  Sam looked at the sketch, suddenly overcome with emotion. “Thanks. It’s a beautiful drawing.”

  Laura pulled a card out of her purse, jotted her number on the back, and held it out to Kristin. “Here. If you’re serious about CalArts, call me. I know people who can help.”

  “Thanks,” Kristin said, taking the card. “I’m definitely going to call.” She gave Laura a hug, then hurried back to one of the waiting CHP vehicles.

  Laura looked over Sam’s shoulder at the drawing. “God, Sam, I hope your place is okay.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But the important thing is we all made it. Houses can be rebuilt. Trees can be replanted.”

  “Excuse me…” They turned to see an officer waving. “Ma’am, we’ve got to go.”

  “Okay,” Laura said, waving back.

  “Hey,” Sam looked at her. “Come see me sometime.”

  She smiled, then gave him a kiss goodbye. “I’ll do that.”

  Sam watched as she was escorted to one of the waiting cars. I already miss her, he thought to himself, then walked to his truck and climbed into the battered cab.

  He reached for the starter, stopped, opened the glove box, and pulled out the battered photo he kept of his family. He looked at it for a moment, then reached back into the glove box and pulled out his phone. He turned it on, then scrolled through his saved pictures, stopping on the photo he took of Laura and Kristin sitting at the kitchen table having dinner. It was the day they’d met. He stared at the picture for a moment longer, then placed the phone on the seat.