by Travis Tufo
“No shit,” Eli laughed as he devoured the candy without hesitation.
“It would be rude not to have seconds.” He reached in and grabbed three more packs. He did to them the same as he had done to the first, but he didn’t stop there. He also crammed down two Snickers, two Almond Joys, a bag of Skittles, and even somehow managed to top it off with a king-sized Kit Kat. To some, this might be a daily meal, but it was more sugar than Eli had absorbed in the entire month. After his snack of champions, he searched through a few more crates, just out of curiosity. At this point, he was over the rush of being in a bunker, and feeling a slight sugar-high. He finally stumbled across what he was looking for: a bottle of vodka. He was surprised he hadn’t seen much alcohol in the crates. Doesn’t everyone need a little something to drink during the end of days? Of course they do.
“I’ll need this to get me where I’m going,” Eli said. He took the Valium bottle from his pocket and dumped the contents into his hand. As the last words left his tongue, he threw at least twenty pills into his mouth. He squinted his eyes tight and went bottoms up with the vodka bottle, practically inhaling the liquid and gulping down every last pill. He sat there motionless, focusing on calming his stomach and his mind, accepting what he had done, denying regret, and any other thoughts of remorse. He was content listening to the newscaster talk about whatever irrelevant event it was for the last few moments of his life. At first he was concerned the pills weren’t going to do the job, but then he noticed his vision was starting to delay. He would move his eyes to his left, but it seemed like it would take his vision a few seconds to catch up.
“Here it comes. The end of a short, miserable, unlucky life. Well, Charles, ole buddy, I guess we’ll be sharing those donuts after all,” Eli muttered quietly and deeply, slurring the whole speech. He was now rocking back and forth; the pills and vodka were starting to mess with his motor functioning. Then it really hit him; his sense of feeling left abruptly, so fast he couldn’t even feel the bed he was sitting on or his head hitting the concrete floor next to it. After that was his sight. The last thing he saw before it all went black was the news lady reporting on some breaking story. His hearing was fading, but it was taking its time. He could hear the lady franticly talking about some virus outbreak on the border of Texas. Her words were spotty from there. There was an advisory to stay home, but by then, Eli was gone. The energy had seeped out of his body. His limp carcass fell to the floor face first. That bunker was now emptier than before Eli had stumbled into it.
EXACTLY SEVEN DAYS later to the minute, Eli awoke. His eyes fired open like guns. He gasped for air, sucking in whatever he could as fast as he could. Along with the consciousness came intense pain in his head from the fall, and his overdose. He grabbed the gash in his forehead which was already scabbing over. He wiped at the crusted, rust colored blood and sat up.
“No, no, no, no! Why am I still here?” Eli was flustered and disoriented. He looked around; everything was the same, except there was a constant stream of white noise coming from static on the television. He looked to the floor next to him and saw a puddle of chunky vomit. It was made of half dissolved pills, vodka, and a whole lot of chocolate. Eli couldn’t help but give a depressed grin.
“Looks like an alcoholic with diabetes had a little binge party here. I must have been out for longer than a few hours, right? I mean that puke’s pretty much dried. Maybe like a day or something?” Eli scratched his head and looked around for any indication of how long he had been out. Discouraged and sick, he shifted his attention to the television. The flickering static was bothering him; there was something different about it...something almost eerie.
“I gotta turn this shit off, it’s giving me the creeps.” He leaned forward towards the box and moved his finger towards the power button on the side, but before he managed to shut it off he thought he heard a faint woman’s scream from beyond the static. The moment the sound hit his ears he froze, his eyes widened, and his breathing intensified. His first thought was to leave it alone, but that was quickly overruled when he heard another scream, this time louder and more desperate. He didn’t know what to do, or even if it was real, so he just sat there, a statue, gripped by fear.
“Is this coming from the news station?” Eli leaned back against the bed and looked at the fuzzy screen helplessly as the screaming stopped. It was just static again, until one last noise came through the television. It was a loud snap, much like a tree branch breaking, followed by the sound of liquids splashing against the floor.
“What the actual hell is going on!?” Eli shook his head.
“Those drugs must have messed my brain up.” He shut the TV off and, standing unsteadily, he headed towards the exit. Before he got too far he felt the weakness in his knees and took a few moments to drink some water and eat more survivor food.
“I need some fresh air, I’ve been cooped up in here for too long.” He left the bunker; a cool breeze met him at the entrance, that, and a solid grey sky above. He didn’t think much of it, he just started walking towards no particular destination. He just wanted to stretch his legs. Before he got too far, he ran back to the bunker to close it. He didn’t think anyone was around to see the bunker, but he didn’t want Officer Daniels to think his parents were crazy, so he dropped the trapdoor shut. Unfortunately, however, he had left the key on the table inside, so he had locked himself out without even realizing it.
“If the cops saw this bunker, they’d have me checked out for some mental illness just for being related to them.” He smirked, not thinking twice about what he had done. Then he started to remember his “final” night. He wondered if maybe there was a reason he didn’t succeed in killing himself.
“I don’t know if I should start believing in God now, and if I do, should I thank Him? Or should I curse Him?” He decided he would ponder the idea later, when his throbbing headache ended. Until then he would kill some time by going to the nearby town of Belfast, where he might actually come across another human being. The police department was there in Belfast so Eli could finally speak to Max.
“I think I’m in need of a little civilization.” He jumped in his rental car and headed for the town, ignoring his not so great smell. Belfast was no more than fifteen minutes away, and not once during those fifteen minutes did he think about what he had just tried to do to himself. It seemed so long ago, as if it had been a dream. Was it just good coping, or was he starting to lose it?
HE NOTICED THAT he never saw another car on his way to Belfast, neither coming nor going.
“I know I’m in the sticks, but really, where is everyone?” Finally reaching the town, he was surprised to see a lack of people, or for that matter, anyone at all.
“What the hell…it’s supposed to be tourist season.” All the cars were parked where they usually would be, by the businesses, in the parking lots, and in front of homes, but there was a suspicious absence of drivers to accompany those cars. He could see lights on in some of the businesses, but there was not a soul in sight.
“Alright, God. I get it. I was put on this earth to be the biggest cosmic joke ever,” Eli said under his breath as he pulled into a parking space facing the bay at the very bottom of the long hill that runs through the town of Belfast. He stepped out and stretched, all the while looking for anyone else or even a sign of life. The goose bumps never left his skin. He gave himself a good pinch to make sure that this really wasn’t the hangover work of the drugs.
“Yep, that hurts.” The pinch even left a bruise.
“I’ve been here before around this time, and I remember it being hard to get anywhere with all the tourists walking around like a bunch of sheep. Store after store these assholes go in to buy super overpriced ‘Maine souvenirs,’ thinking they got something fancy.” Eli was actually starting to get to himself, becoming angry at the tourists that didn’t even exist at the moment. Before he could get himself any more worked up, he heard something off in the distance. He couldn’t quite make out what was causing the
noise, but if there was a chance to find out what was happening here, he was going to go check it out. He locked up the Mustang and ran up the long hill, passing all the shops along the way. As he was closing in on the noise, it became clear to him that it was a banging on something. He reached the top of the hill, and with that came a good view of both slopes, the one he just conquered, and the one ahead of him, where the noise was coming from. Out of breath, he stopped at the top to see if he could get a look at what was making the racket. He put his hand against his forehead to block the sunlight and scouted it out.
“Oh man…I need to…get back into…cardio.” He took deep breaths in between each word, getting his breathing back to normal.
“Wait…what’s that?” He saw what was making the unidentified sound. It was something in the window of a pizza shop a couple blocks down the hill in front of him. He gathered his composure and started a lighter jog towards it.
“Much better,” he whispered to himself, already sweating as he barely broke a walking pace down the slope. Within a few yards of the pizza shop, he could just make out a large shape in the window. It must have been what was banging.
“Is that a person? Finally! I thought everyone was at a mandatory lobster fest or something Maine-ish like that.”
ELI REACHED THE shop. It was in fact a man banging on the window, very loudly and with a lot of force. At first Eli was reluctant to act on the situation; it seemed likely he was going to break through the window at any moment.
“Maybe he needs help!” Without taking a good look at the person inside the shop Eli got a rush of adrenaline suddenly thinking he needed to save him. He ran to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. Luckily, it was a glass door. He took a step back and lifted his foot high up, and with one mighty thrust, he sent his foot through the glass. He didn’t say anything, but in his mind he was screaming, “This is Sparta!” Glass flew all across the restaurant’s floor as Eli put his hand through the large hole in the door and unlocked it from the outside.
“Are you alright? Do you need help?” Eli yelled in as he opened the door, trying to find the person he had just seen. There was no response.
“Are you there?” Eli yelled in again, not taking a step inside.
“Look I’m sorry about the d…” a groan interrupted him. Eli took this as a sign of someone in pain.
“I’m coming in to help you.” Eli stepped inside, glass cracking and breaking underneath his clean white running shoes. Eli looked to the right and saw the counter where people would place an order, the lights were on, but no one was there. He started to turn his attention to his left, but before he made it all the way around he was full-force tackled to the ground. His back and shoulders hit first, and glass sliced its way into his back with ease. Blood quickly followed. He looked up at the person he had been trying to save, and what he saw nearly made his heart stop. It was a human—or at least it used to be. His eyes were rolled all the way back into his head, only showing their whites, and veins bulged and covered them; there was almost more red than white. His skin was grey and purple with black veins pressed against the skin. But the weirdest thing about him was the strange branch-like things protruding from all parts of his body. There were long, fungal growths coming out of one of his ears at least a foot long. The things were also scattered across his face and body. The growths weren’t just attached to the surface; they pushed through the skin from the inside. They looked like they were forced through like spears. The fungus was very spiky, red and black, and undulated in the air. Eli screamed from underneath the monster’s weight.
“Get the hell off me!” Eli pushed up as hard as he could, lifting the creature a few inches. The thing opened his mouth wide, revealing a dark purple tongue and jagged teeth. Before Eli could do anything else, the thing on top of him spit into his face. Thousands of spores came firing out mixed in with a mouthful of blood. Eli didn’t know about the spores, but the bloody gush set him off. With newfound rage, he threw the man off him and jumped to his feet. He cocked his leg back and kicked it hard into the man’s gut. It had no effect on the thing.
“Son of a bitch!” The strange creature stumbled to its feet all the while groaning and bleeding from the wounds where each fungus stick had punctured the skin.
“What the hell happened to you?” The creature lunged for Eli, grabbing ahold of him by his shoulders. With his grip established, the creature showed its jagged, blood stained teeth once more and thrust them right into Eli’s flesh just between his neck and shoulder bone. The teeth sunk in deep—blood squirted out as Eli cringed hard and fell back. The creature came tumbling with him, its teeth still solidly buried. The impact of the floor only deepened the bite. The creature’s teeth scraped against Eli’s bone. The sound of teeth scraping against his shoulder bone was like nails across a chalkboard. Eli didn’t know what to do. Franticly, he flailed his arms around looking for something to beat this thing off him with. His search seemed hopeless; he was sure he was going to die from the sheer amount of blood this thing was stealing from him. Finally, Eli’s hands stumbled upon a sharp edged piece of glass from the broken door. He wrapped his hand around it tight, cutting his palm against the shard, but assuring it would stay in his hand. He sent his bloody, glass-clenching hand screaming towards the creature, catching it right in its temple. The glass sliced through the skin and muscle and even broke skull.
The monster’s teeth let up, and Eli, still holding the weapon, flicked his wrist inward, snapping the glass off in the monster’s head. The bloodsucker fell over to the side and Eli rolled through the broken glass on the floor to get back to his feet. He stood up, gripping his shoulder wound with his cut hand, blood mixing into both wounds. His eyes were squinted in pain and his teeth were clenched; rage filled his eyes. Eli took a step towards the monster rolling around and bleeding profusely from the gash in its temple. He lifted his foot right over its head and with enough power to break a skull, he stomped it towards the earth. The creature’s cranium seemed to barely resist between Eli’s foot and the linoleum. Brain matter and a massive amount of gore splattered across the pizza joint’s checkered floor. Eli was breathing deeply; he opened his eyes wider to see what had just happened. The monster’s legs twitched momentarily before it stopped moving completely and blood flowed from the stump where its head used to be.
The fungal strands were also twitching, seemingly dying as well.
Chapter Eight
THE NEVER ENDING pain coming from his blood soaked shoulder made it hard for him to think, but Eli figured the next thing to do would be to call the police to report what had just happened. He knew that he had just murdered a man. However, he was taking it well because he knew he had acted out of self defense. He looked around, spotting a phone hanging on the wall in the back next to the ovens. He quickly rushed through the door leading to the kitchen and put the phone against his ear, still gripping his bite wound with his cut hand. He dialed 911, but all he got in return was silence. He wasn’t sure if it was the phone or the police department having issues, so he walked outside and entered the store next door, an antique shop. After stumbling around, spilling his fair share of DNA all over the place, he found their phone, only to get the same silence.
“What? This whole damn town’s phone lines are down?” Eli didn’t have a clue that the little tourist town of Belfast, Maine wasn’t the only place in the U.S. experiencing this problem. In fact, there were more places without connections than with them right at that moment. Eli didn’t want to just leave the scene, so he reentered the pizza shop, hoping he would eventually see someone driving down the street. First, he took the medical kit from the kitchen and wrapped up his shoulder wound after pouring a painful, stinging bottle full of alcohol on it. He gritted his teeth hard enough to bend metal as the alcohol stung the deep gashes. On his way out of the makeshift medical room, he passed by a mirror which stopped him dead in his tracks. He was so preoccupied with everything that had happened and that was still happening, that he had
completely forgotten about the bloody mouthful that thing spit on him. Before he began to wipe it off his face, he noticed weird little purple flecks all over his skin; there had to be hundreds of tiny specks. He leaned into the grease covered mirror to get a better look.
“Wait…why didn’t anyone stop me before I went out with this shit on my face?” Eli said sarcastically, to keep himself amused. Maybe this isn’t the time for humor, Eli thought, since his parents had just died, he had tried to take his own life, and had just killed a person. But to Eli, any time was the right time for humor, especially after he had gone through so much trauma. Humor acted like a buffer; it seemed to keep him from becoming too emotional.
HE WIPED THE mess of spores off his face, unaware of their capabilities, had they affected him as they had affected Apollonia or the countless others at this point. Eli then pulled up a seat near the center of the horrible scene. He sat there, trying to calm down, as his heart had been pumping fast enough to compete with an Olympic athlete. He looked straight out the broken glass door, waiting and hoping for a car to drive by. While he did so, he tried as hard as he could to not look at the body lying on the ground next to him, but like most, curiosity got the best of him. He steeled his nerves and looked at the monster. Now that it wasn’t attacking him, he was able to really examine the thing. This time he really took in what he was seeing. The discolored skin made him uneasy, the black veins gave him chills, the white eyes with their intense red veins left his stomach churning, and the blooming spores ripping the flesh back so that they could surface made him question whether or not this thing was ever really human.
“What happened to this poor guy? I mean, what on earth are these tentacle things on him? Probably some crazy new drug.” Eli stood up and approached the mutilated corpse. Kneeling down, he reached out his hand to feel one of the many fungal spines sticking out of the man’s arm. If felt stiff, yet yielding, cold, yet lively, and above all, evil, like there was something entirely wrong about it. He didn’t know why, but just the touch of this bizarre, alien life form gave him a sense of dread. He removed his hand and walked away as quickly as he had approached it. He even went as far as to leave the building and wait on the curb outside of the shop.