“Jesus Christ!” shouted the bloody-nosed man, rushing at Ryan’s father and grabbing him by the shoulders as he tried to get up. Ryan’s father looked at the man and growled again before lunging and biting him hard in the face.
Blood spurted. The man screamed. He brought his fists down on his attacker’s back and head, but Ryan’s father bit and chewed like a wild animal. After a few seconds, the bloody-noseless man’s screams became watery and then stopped completely. He fell to the floor, dark blood pouring from what was left of his face.
Ryan’s father, covered in the other man’s blood, tried to stand. He took a step toward Nicole and Ryan as she dragged the stunned boy away; his leg bent at a similar angle to his arm. His shattered shin bone broke through his pant leg with a muffled tear and crunch. He fell with a thud, but his hungry eyes never left his son. He pushed himself up using his broken arm, which was now bent all the way back, still moving forward.
The young woman fainted and her boyfriend vomited at the sight of this man—this thing—crawling across the floor toward them. Nicole swallowed, holding back her own bile.
“Oh my God,” someone said behind her in a squealing whisper.
She turned and saw that the doctor—the man who had just been declared dead—was looking around, growling, sounding just like the thing that had been Ryan’s father. More foam came from his mouth as he struggled to get up from the blankets tucked around him so well.
They were surrounded.
Nicole looked back and forth, over the head of the whimpering Ryan. No one could do anything. The young man tried to wake his girlfriend who was still on the floor, unconscious; the bloody-nosed man wasn’t moving at all—probably dead; but for how long? Ms. MacNeil tried to keep the formerly dead doctor under control and under the blanket. David ...
David! He wasn’t on the bed they had been sitting on.
Frantically she looked around the room. He had to be there—the door was still barricaded.
“David!” she screamed through her tears.
The only sounds were the young man shaking his girlfriend, repeating, “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” The growls from the two men who should be dead grew louder as they neared their prey. It was only a matter of time—
“Nicole!” she heard from behind her.
She spun quickly, practically flinging Ryan as he now lay limply sobbing in her arms. David stood on the back counter next to a shaky-looking stack of milk crates. He looked oddly calm as he started climbing the stack. “Come on!” he said, as he approached the window. His impromptu ladder wobbled, but he pushed the window open. She had no idea when he had put the stack together, but she didn’t have long to think about it.
She screamed as the Ryan’s-father thing grabbed her ankle. A rush of panic overwhelmed her. I caused this. All of this. These people ... they were trying to help and I ... I deserve this. Ryan fell to the ground and the thing grabbed at him as an easier target. That snapped her back. Ryan was her responsibility now. She stomped heavily on the thing’s already shattered arm with a sickening crunch. Blood splattered from its growing wounds.
Suddenly, she was pushed toward the window.
“Go! Get out of here!” Ms. MacNeil yelled, shoving Ryan into her arms, then turning to stand between the kids and the monster on the floor.
Nicole hesitated for only a moment—only until she saw the other man finally free himself from his blanket and lunge toward the young couple. She bolted for the counter, heaving Ryan on top of it before her.
David, sitting half out of the window, held his arms out to her. “Pass him to me!” he yelled.
The boy was dead weight, but she noticed that his eyes were open. Did he turn too?! she thought, horrified. No, they’re his eyes. He’s in shock. In a quick motion, she hefted the boy to her brother who pulled him out the window. Nicole got the impression that David dropped him as soon as they were out.
She looked back around the room, her hands on the wobbling stack. The teacher now fought off the Ryan’s-father thing. She kicked against its hand, arm, shoulder, head—nothing made it let go. It climbed, taking bites out of her as it went.
“Go!” she screamed at Nicole.
Nicole climbed. The doctor-thing was now on top of the couple; they tried to fight it off, but it was crushing them—she wasn’t sure if the woman was even awake yet. She hoped that she wasn’t. That would be better.
Then it looked up and scrambled toward her. She grabbed at the window, feeling crates tumble beneath her. They hit the thing as they fell, slowing it down, but it kept moving.
As she slipped through the window, it grabbed her foot.
DAVID
David, still surprisingly calm, grabbed her, too. He could see the doctor-thing through the glass, trying to pull her back inside. He could also see that it had no leverage, just grip. He had to make it let go.
He kicked the next window over to startle it.
It worked. The thing let go of his sister, and she tumbled onto the gravel-covered canopy roof.
David watched Ryan calmly tilt his head, looking through the window as it if were an aquarium. David’s glance followed and he discovered what Ryan had found so curious.
Unfortunately, when he had kicked the window, he also cracked the glass.
Crap.
The thing on the other side started bashing its hands against the glass.
If anyone had asked him how he had made the stack to get to the window, or how he had been so calm, he wouldn’t have known what to say. He just did it, somehow through his panic. Now all of that dread came crashing down around him as he saw the thing looking at him. He was the new target.
He moved to the edge of the canopy. He had determined before Nicole came out that it was a ten foot drop onto grass. It might hurt, but it was escapable. But when he looked down now, he abandoned the option.
Below—on the lawn, on the sidewalk, on the street, everywhere—was chaos. Echoing what had broken out in the hall downstairs, people ran, screamed, pushed, fought; but also, there were people hunched over other people, sitting on them, pulling and tugging at them. These people were covered in blood. There were more of them.
Dozens of them. More.
He heard a loud snap.
The crack in the glass had doubled in size and the window was pushing out. The doctor-thing threw its weight into it, leaving smears of blood and spit as it smashed with its head and arms.
Another crack splintered across the pane. Waiting was not an option.
Nicole grabbed him by his sleeve. “We need to go up.”
She found a foothold on the frame of the next window over and started pulling herself up. David held his breath. It was very slow going as he watched her inch her way up until she could grasp the edge of the roof. She pulled herself up and over.
David panicked when she disappeared. “Nicole!”
She peeked back over the edge. “Grab Ryan and lift him up to me!”
This is not a good plan, David instantly thought. Nicole had struggled lifting Ryan to him before, and she was stronger than he was. He had little chance of even getting him off the ground, let alone the distance to Nicole’s dangling hands.
Crack.
But, it was worth a try.
He scooped up Ryan easily, as he looked through the now rippling glass at the thing inside, still clawing to get out. He stood in the frame of the window they’d climbed through below his waiting sister, planted his feet as firmly as he could, and hefted the boy over his head. He would have been impressed with himself if he weren’t so terrified. When Ryan, with eerie calmness, stretched out his arms to Nicole, she quickly pulled him up to safety.
Much to David’s relief, the thing had stopped pounding on the almost-broken window.
Unfortunately, it started on the window David now stood in. It threw itself against the glass, creating huge cracks, almost scaring him off the canopy. He scrambled up the frame, much quicker, he thought, than his sister had done. He was only half way up w
hen the glass shattered and the thing tumbled out beneath him. It grabbed for him, and his hand slipped off the window frame.
As he tilted backward and saw sky, he felt himself yanked up by the arm. Nicole had caught him, by the wrist, and struggled to hold him up. He screamed, mere feet away from certain, horrible, bloody death. He continued screaming even as Nicole dragged him up and he pushed himself up frantically. Once his shoulders cleared the lip of the roof, he threw his arms over the edge and pulled himself up onto it.
The roof was empty, except for the three of them. Almost peaceful. It almost seemed like—
“David!”
“Huh?” he said, looking at her as if snapped back from a dream.
“Do you hear anything? Sirens? Rescue?”
David shook his head. He suddenly felt very cold. Alone. He sat, hugging his knees to his chest, wishing for the sounds of sirens.
Though they were right in front of him, he watched Nicole and Ryan as if they were miles away. Ryan’s blank expression looked even farther. As Nicole hugged the younger boy, rocking him back and forth, David wondered if it was too late for Ryan; after everything that had happened, is he lost forever?
David shivered along with Ryan, wishing someone would hug and comfort him as he began to wonder: when will it be too late for me?
DAY 2 - LATER
ALEX
Normally, Alex’s walk to school was a short one. However, when he ran away from his house and Mr. Watts, he went in the opposite direction. Even after he decided to head to Colby, he kept walking the wrong way, disoriented and scared, jumping at every-thing that moved. And everything he heard.
For most of the walk, there was no noise at all. No traffic sounds. No airplanes flying overhead. No people talking. No construction. Nothing. It made the noises he did hear far worse. A loud ‘BANG!’ as if something far away exploded; what sounded like gunfire. And, as close as the next street over, screaming. Gut wrenching, painful screams that made him lock up each time he heard one. When the sound faded, he would hurry on, faster, and tenser than before.
When he finally did walk in the right direction, he didn’t get very far. Down the street ahead he saw three people looking for something. He almost called out to them before he noticed how they walked. They shambled mindlessly, just like Mr. Watts.
They have the disease, too. He couldn’t go that way.
He heard a crash behind him. Startled, he quickly turned and saw a garbage can roll into the street. Following it was another one of the diseased. This one was close enough that he could see the blood covering it. But it wasn’t looking at him, so he had a few seconds to react. Looking around, a great relief came over him.
Mark and Jeremy’s street! Jeremy lived past the people down the hill, but Mark’s house was only a few down from where he stood. Keeping an eye on the shambling figure behind him, Alex darted to the closest yard, hoping the shade from the houses and trees would hide him. Shadow started a low growl, but she stopped when Alex shushed her. He kept his eyes on both ends of the street and made his way to Mark’s.
The door was locked, which he had actually hoped for. Safer. He slowly and quietly opened the mailbox, flinching and freezing each time it squeaked. He looked around, but no one seemed to notice him. He found their spare key, fumbled it into the lock, pulled the door open and ducked inside. When the door was relocked behind him, he felt safe again. Once the street cleared out on either end, he’d make his way to the school.
He let Shadow go, and she entered the unfamiliar surroundings cautiously, sniffing at everything she passed. Before she left the front hall, she looked back at Alex.
“It’s okay,” he told her. “Go look around.”
She walked off, sniffing again.
Alex tried to call the school again. If Dad had gone to the house, or if the evacuation people had showed up, he’d be worried sick.
Nothing. Not even a busy signal. He clicked the receiver and realized there was no sound at all. No dial-tone, no beeps when he dialled numbers, nothing. The phones were dead, too.
He peeked out the front window. The person who had knocked over the garbage can stood in front of the house. It staggered around, exactly like Mr. Watts, though it looked much worse.
Its face was smeared with dark red blood. Its shirt and right hand were also covered, only more thickly, and studded with dark pieces of flesh. Its left arm was gone. Dripping red strips hung from the remnants of its left sleeve. It left a trail as it walked; now a puddle as it stood, mindlessly staring at nothing. As it started to turn, Alex ducked down below the window. He was safe as long as they didn’t see him or hear him. He just had to be quiet, and do as little as possible while he waited.
When he peeked again, it was gone, leaving a bloody trail. It probably wasn’t far though, so Alex decided to wait it out a little longer.
He found Shadow in the den, sniffing through a pile of papers. This place is a mess, Alex thought. He thought back to what his own house had looked like when he got back the day before; the same. A speedy evacuation, with no thought of the mess left behind.
His stomach rumbled, though he certainly didn’t feel hungry. He had only taken one spoonful of cereal before he put Shadow outside. The last meal he had eaten was a sandwich at lunch the day before. If he had even eaten it.
He checked out the fridge, taking his time to look around. This fridge could stay open all day for all he cared. He wasn’t staying long, and there were bigger problems in the world than the Wilsons having to deal with spoiled food.
He found some ham slices, mustard, and a block of cheddar. A loaf of bread on the counter made the meal. “Not too bad,” he said, as he began making his second sandwich in as many days. He’d be sure to actually eat this one.
Shadow came into the room, staring up at him as he peeled open the package of ham. She had eaten breakfast, but she had a rough day, so Alex decided she could eat again. Fortunately, Mark’s family had a dog too: Buster, a big German shepherd. Buster was a very mean looking dog, but incredibly friendly. Maybe even more than Shadow. After a quick search, Alex found Buster’s food and put it in a soup bowl from the cupboard.
Alex ate his sandwich right away, quite surprised at how hungry he was. He went back to the fridge, found some refreshingly cold orange juice, and poured himself a tall glass. He looked at Shadow as he drank it, then went to the sink to get her some water. Nothing came out of the tap. He checked the fridge again, but there was no water there either, so he poured some orange juice into another bowl and put it on the floor for her. She smelled it, took a lap, but backed away from the strong taste.
“No?” Alex said, laughing to himself. “We’ll find you something else to drink when we go back outside, okay?”
As if in response, Shadow made a sound like a disgusted sigh and walked out of the room. Alex laughed again.
Being at Mark’s house wasn’t too bad. At first Alex was worried he’d get bored, or worse, that he’d just stay glued to the window, watching diseased people walk by, hearing screams from others. However, he found an electronic Yahtzee and his morning was set. He played several dozen games as the morning turned to afternoon, initially checking outside between every game, but the more he got into it, the less he checked. It was his second ‘double Yahtzee’ when he realized an hour had passed since he’d last looked. When he did, he realized his mistake.
At least a dozen of them clustered in the street. Maybe more, since he couldn’t see that far past the houses on either side of him. He felt very cold again as his mind raced. What are they doing out there? Do they know I’m in here? No, no they can’t. If they did, they’d try to get me, just like Mr. Watts did. They don’t know.
He jumped at the sound of a loud squeal followed by the crunch of impact. Fortunately, it also got the attention of everyone outside so they didn’t discover him. They all looked up the street and started shambling in that direction.
Alex watched them go, then ran to the bedroom window which offered a better vie
w of the street. When he finally peeked out, he saw a pillar of black smoke rising from something two houses down. Did a bomb go off? No. It sounded like a ... car crash.
He thought he could see a bit of a car under a telephone pole, but all of those people were blocking it, trying to get at it. They were so slow, he’d never get to see what happened.
The bathroom window! It was the only window on the side facing the smoke. He ran to the bathroom and jumped onto the edge of the tub to see out. He could see over the house next door.
It was a car crash.
He put a story together in his mind: A car sped up the street and they didn’t see the crowd of diseased people until it was too late. They tried to turn quickly, or they were just surprised, and they hit the telephone pole. Hard.
The front of the car was smashed in about three feet, wrapped around the pole. The front windshield had shattered—a big hole through it on the driver’s side. Bloody, but no body. Alex thought his mind was playing tricks on him, making him see blood when there actually wasn’t.
There was, however, someone in the passenger side, but they weren’t moving. No—they are moving. It’s a woman, and she’s hurt, but she’s alive! Alex felt a slight sense of relief, seeing another non-diseased person. He also felt horrible that he wasn’t out there helping.
He felt worse as the diseased people descended upon the car. They reached in through the windshield and clawed at her. They caught hold of her, pulling her through the jagged hole in the window. More blood. Lots of it.
It took a moment for Alex to understand what he was seeing. At first, he thought they were tearing off the woman’s clothes— which they were.
But they were also ripping her apart.
They were eating her.
She screamed. And then she stopped.
Alex fell back into the tub, and threw up the sandwich he had eaten earlier.
DAVID
Rise of the Mudmen Page 9