by Crae, Edward
“That’s cool,” Drew said. “Maybe Max can use your AR now. That’ll be better for him, I think.”
Max smiled, stuffing his new handgun in his pocket. “That was always my favorite rifle in the shooter games,” he said. “I would be proud to wield it.”
“In that case,” Dan said. “It’s yours.”
He handed over the rifle. Max’s smile was as wide as his face as he admired it. Surprisingly, he knew exactly how to handle it. He released the magazine without a second thought, inspected the chamber, slapped the magazine back in, and pulled back the charging handle; all in expert fashion. Dan was impressed.
“Looks pretty sound,” Max said. “Thank you, my friend.”
“No problem, buddy,” Dan said.
He went over to the other counter to prepare his new rifle. It was a medium length barrel, with no muzzle brake or flash hider. But, in the box, nestled among the three empty magazines, was a suppressor. Dan was surprised, as a suppressor wouldn’t normally be part of the factory package; but then, neither would three magazines.
This particular rifle must have been put on order or layaway.
He removed the suppressor from its packaging and screwed it onto the end of the barrel. He then returned to the accessory counter and chose a good scope, a boresighter, and a sling. When he was finished, he loaded up all three mags, put the remaining rounds in his pack, and admired his new weapon just as enthusiastically as Max had admired his.
“It’s definitely you,” Drew said. “I love the paint pattern, too.”
Dan nodded in agreement. The pattern itself was fairly season-independent. It was merely flat earth toned, with bark and moss highlights; perfect for use in any season.
“It’ll go great with my eyes,” he joked.
There was a sudden disturbance outside that drew everyone’s attention. The three of them rushed to the crumbled corner, peering into the shadows for its source. Though none of them could see a thing, there was the definite moaning and growling that signaled the presence of large numbers of shufflers—or the dead.
“Shit,” Dan said, thinking of how they would escape.
“Dude,” Drew said, his face showing a hunted and terrified expression. “That horde was going northeast wasn’t it?”
The realization made Dan’s heart skip a beat, and the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. Drew was right; the giant mass of undead and mutants was indeed heading in this direction. Dan had assumed they would head right toward Columbus, and they would never see them again.
He was wrong.
Max’s expression and breathing echoed his own concerns. The poor nerd was beginning to panic, and it wouldn’t be long before he hyperventilated. Seeing this, Dan grabbed Max by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes.
“Dude,” he said calmly. “Don’t panic. We’re armed to the teeth, and as long as we don’t get cornered, we can get away. You have a new kickass rifle, and Drew and I have experience in this kind of thing. Alright?”
Max nodded half-heartedly. Though he seemed to believe Dan, Dan himself wasn’t sure he believed it. But if Max saw the fear that he and Drew were feeling, his panic would take over, and the three of them would be doomed. He had to keep it together.
“I can’t believe they walked this far,” Drew whispered as the chattering grew louder. “I wonder where they were going.”
“I have no idea,” Dan said. “It’s a herd. They probably saw something who knows how long ago and just decided to follow it. I’m sure they’ve forgotten what the hell it was by now.”
“Well,” Drew said. “Let’s not make ourselves their new goal.”
“Right,” Dan replied. “We’ll just stay quiet and wait them out. However long it takes.”
Though the streets were empty, Toni couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her since the sun went down. The darkness brought shadow, and shadow always brought uncertainty. From what she had seen in the past, that uncertainty was usually accompanied by dark things that could creep into one’s vicinity, without them even knowing.
The darkness always summoned the demons, as it were.
Jake was sound asleep on the counter, wrapped up in his trench coat, and using his pack for a pillow. Toni had decided to take first watch—and probably second and third—as trying to sleep would be pointless. She would do nothing but lie awake, stealing away from Jake’s possible sleep time.
She leaned her forehead against the glass of the display window, sighing. It had been a long day, and she was dead tired. But it wasn’t the fatigue that affected her the most, it was still that odd feeling; that intuition that had always proved to be right. Something was coming, she knew; something that neither she nor Jake could handle.
She was resigned to the fact that this could be their last night on Earth. They had a car, sure, but where would they go? They couldn’t just drive around aimlessly looking for a place to crash every night. They couldn’t very well settle here, either. There was nothing left to scavenge, for the most part, and the land was too uneven and clay-ridden to grow crops.
So what would they do?
“Help me, mama,” she whispered. “Give me your guidance.”
A quick movement out of the corner of her eye suddenly caught her attention. Something shadowy had sped across the street, but was gone by the time she looked up. What was it? Was it a person? Was it some survivor who had become feral? Or…
Her eyes widened as she thought of the shadow people Jake had mentioned. Was it one of them? If so, why was it here? Were they dangerous? Would they attack?
The questions were endless.
No matter what the answers, she pressed her face against the glass, straining to see through the darkness. There was no movement this time; only the still shadows, and the gentle swaying of the bare trees against the gray sky. Maybe she had just been seeing things. She had been alone for quite a while before finding Jake; talking to herself, wandering aimlessly with no real destination. Maybe it had gotten to her a little, and this new transition was just part of returning to normalcy.
That happens, right?
Whatever the case, she kept her right hand at her gun belt, ready to draw, and send whatever came at her back to the darkness of death.
“Come for me then,” she whispered. “Come get me. I’m ready.”
Dan could see movement in the distance, beyond the houses that lined the west side of the street. He watched with unblinking eyes, ignoring the sweat that ran down his back and the goosebumps that had formed on his skin. Gone was the strong, pleasant thumping of a healthy heart; replaced by the uneven pounding of terror.
Drew appeared equally concerned, as his eyes were locked in to the shadows as well. Dan could also hear Max’s heavy breathing behind him. The guy was beginning to wheeze like an asthmatic, and Dan could tell he was about to lose his wits.
“Max,” he whispered. “Stay calm, buddy. We got this.”
“I am seriously about to shit my pants,” Max whispered back.
“Save it for the outhouse,” Dan replied. “We may have to run. That’s not gonna be easy with a pants full of shit.”
Max didn’t laugh, but Dan was sure he would see the humor in it.
“Here they come,” Drew said.
A few stumbling figures came into view around the corner of the farthest house. They were both mostly bare, wearing only scummy, ripped up pants. Their flesh was pale and covered in rot, and their gait was uneven, as if walking on partially decomposed muscles.
“Rotters,” Dan said. “Definitely the same group.”
The corpses wandered closer their way, followed by a host of others. If they continued their current path, they would likely pass by without even coming close to the gun store; if the three of them stayed quiet enough.
The remaining horde seemed to be avoiding their street. They continued on to the north, heading toward the center of town. Only a few of them had straggled away from the rest, but the chances of them comi
ng close enough to spot the men were fairly high. Dan flicked the safety off his rifle just in case. He hoped the iron sights were fine-tuned enough to use, seeing as he had not had time to sight the scope.
He really couldn’t take that risk.
“Max,” he whispered. “Let me see that rifle.”
Max handed him the M4A1. Dan would have to use it since there was no guarantee he could hit anything with his new Blackout.
“What are you doing?” Drew asked.
“If that one in front gets too close,” Dan said. “I’m taking it out.”
Drew clenched his jaw, wobbling his head in half-hearted agreement. “Don’t fucking miss,” he whispered.
Dan raised the rifle and looked through the scope, zooming in on the creature’s decomposed face. Its lips were mostly gone, revealing its brown and yellowed teeth. Its left eye was missing, and the other bulged out of its socket. He doubted the creature could even see, much less spot them, but there was still the possibility that it could smell them.
Though the three other corpses had split away and chosen their own paths, the one-eyed monster still came in their direction. Dan had to make a decision. On the one hand, if the creature came too close, it might spot them. On the other hand, a suppressor was not really a silencer. Even when equipped, there was still the muffled bang.
“Fuck,” he whispered as the corpse came within twenty or so yards. “Gotta do it.”
He peered through the scope again, getting the corpse right in his sights. He put the reticle right on the thing’s forehead, waiting for it to wobble its way into a steady position. When he was satisfied with his aim, he pulled the trigger.
The rifle “poofed”, and the corpse went straight down to the street. Dan scanned the other ones, looking to see if they had heard anything. Much to his relief, they continued on their march. Dan’s heart settled down again, and he sighed in relief.
“Good shot,” Max said. “I hope I can become that skilled at stealth sniping.”
“It’s not over yet,” Dan said. “As I remember, there was a stalker among them back on the highway.”
Drew’s eyes widened as he, too, remembered the stalker. Though Cliff had led it away with the drone, it was probably still in there somewhere. And if it was, it was only a matter of time before it too would come their way.
Chapter Eight
The cold night wind stung Cliff’s face as he stood atop the scaffolding. The makeshift watch tower creaked with every gust, prompting him to hold on to the top of the fence with one hand as he stood guard. His teeth chattered, and he felt the cold all the way to his bones.
He had volunteered to take first watch, knowing that the others were much too tired from all the work they had done earlier that day. Cliff was in far better shape than they were, and was still full of energy by the time the sun had gone down. Now, he stood alone, gazing into the distance with blind eyes.
Though he had his IR scope equipped, his previous visual sweeps had revealed nothing. It was just a matter of keeping his ears tuned to the sounds of the night, and his innate senses open wide.
He leaned his rifle against the fence, rubbing his hands together to warm them. Though he was freezing, the temperature was still not as cold as it should be. There was something about the comet that had changed the weather somehow. Winter was here, but at the same time, it wasn’t.
But, it was still cold as shit.
Turning his eyes to the north, he noticed that there was a bright spot among the clouds. It wasn’t a star; it was far too large. He hadn’t noticed it before, but now it was plain as day. Whatever it was, it showed through the thick clouds with an orange hue, not too far above the horizon.
Was it the comet?
Cliff shook his head. He wrapped his coat around himself tighter, putting his arms in his armpits. He continued to stare at the bright spot, his mind flashing him a slideshow of horrible and terrifying possibilities; a comet strike, mass extinctions, Earth exploding; Marvin the Martian laughing as he fired his P38 Space Modulator.
He chuckled out loud. “Alright, alright,” he said to himself. “That’s enough of that shit.”
There was a metallic bang off in the distance that startled him. He quickly grabbed his rifle, turning toward the sound, and peered through the IR scope. He saw nothing as he swept from side to side. It clearly sounded like something landing on the steel panels of the office roof.
His hands began to shake, not just with the cold, but because of the fear as well. His focus was strong, and he saw every detail in the IR image; every moving branch, every gust of heat that came from the rooftop, and every wispy glow that rose from the dying fire in the center of their shed complex.
There was nothing else.
He lowered the rifle, keeping his gaze directed at the office. Maybe Eric had gotten up and was rooting around somewhere looking for food. Or maybe Travis had come out the door of his shed and went into the office, accidentally slamming the door. Anything was possible.
Another clank sounded from a pile of cars to his right. It was a clank and scratch at the same time. He looked through the scope again, seeing the faint, fading glow of several spots on the cars. Something was there, or had been there recently. He froze, searching left and right, up and down, seeing nothing but blue and black.
And a huge yellow glow that filled the view of the scope!
He fired impulsively just as something impacted him. He was knocked back, and his rifle flew from his grasp. He heard the hissing and growling of his attacker as he was flipped over the top of the fence. The barbed wire cut into his pants, ripping them as he tumbled over to the ground below.
He landed with a rough impact that knocked the wind out of him. Before he could regain his bearings, the rocks at the edge of the gully gave out, and he went sliding down. His attacker followed, growling and gnashing its teeth as he tumbled to the bottom.
He heard the impact of his attacker landing nearby, and the whip-like sounds of its tentacles poising to strike him. One word crossed his mind; the name that Dan and Drew had given the beasts.
Stalker.
Eric was awakened by the muffled sound of a single gunshot. He knew Cliff had a suppressor equipped, and leaped up as he realized Cliff was in trouble. He pulled on his pants and boots, grabbing his jacket, and fumbled around for his shotgun. When he emerged, he saw Travis closing the door to his own shed.
“What the fuck was that?” Travis asked, half asleep.
Eric flicked his tactical flashlight on and pumped his shotgun. “Grab your gun,” he said. “Follow me.”
He sprinted out of the protected circle of sheds, making his way across the gravel lot. Shining his flashlight up, he saw that Cliff was no longer atop the scaffolding. As he neared the structure, he shined his light around, desperately searching for his friend.
“Cliff!” he shouted. “Cliff!”
Below, he heard scuffling and growling. Something was happening in the gully below. Though even with his flashlight he could see nothing down there, there was a recent collapse of the rocks along the edge.
“Shit,” he said.
Travis ran up, bearing his hunting rifle. “Get on the tower,” Eric said.
“What’s going on?” Travis asked, climbing up.
“Cliff’s down there in the gully,” Eric said, rushing toward the gate. “Keep us covered.”
Eric’s heart pounded as he ran. He hoped he could make it in time to help Cliff. If not, they would have one more body to bury.
And one less family member.
Cliff heard Eric calling his name, but was too winded to call back. He had managed to dodge the creature’s first attack, and was now running blindly through the pitch black forest. The creature was right on his heels, and he could feel its vile presence at his back. Its growls and hisses were unearthly, stinging Cliff’s ears and threatening to drive him to panic.
He was terrified.
A rock in his path caught his foot, and he sailed forward, landing rou
ghly on his chest and scraping his palms on the rocks. The sting was unbelievable and he groaned with the pain. The creature growled again, leaping over him to cut him off.
He stood as fast as he could, looking around for any place to run.
Before he could even think, his body pushed him back toward the camp. The creature resumed its chase, crunching through the underbrush at an unbelievable speed. Cliff was nearly out of breath, but he pushed on.
Then, he heard the crack of a whip again, and felt the stinging snap of a tentacle on his back. He was lurched forward roughly, and the pain coursed through him like poison.
“Motherfucker,” he grunted.
He drew his blade, turning to face the horror that he could not see. Now was the time to use his training and fight his attacker in the dark. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sounds the creature made. It was close, and stepping to the side, trying to get behind him. He turned quickly, slashing his blade out before him. He heard it cut through the air.
“Come here you fuckin’ prick,” he growled.
He heard the whipping sound again, but dodged and slashed with his knife. This time, he felt it cut through something. The creature howled in pain. Cliff smiled, gritting his teeth and laughing through them like a madman.
“That’s right, bitch,” he taunted. “Daddy’s home, and yo’ ass is mine.”
The creature roared with a deafening, hellish wail. Its teeth glistened in the moonlight, which was now poking through the gaps in the thick cloud cover. Seeing his chance to make a targeted attack, he lunged. Though the creature ducked and struck out with its claws, Cliff anticipated its move and zigzagged at the last second, tossing his blade to the other hand and stabbing down at the creature’s neck.
He felt it connect the hard, rubbery flesh; penetrating a small amount, but glancing off for the most part. Still, the stalker screeched in pain, lashing out with its tentacles. Cliff was too slow to dodge them, and felt one them wrap around his neck. He grabbed the appendage with his left hand, squeezing and pulling with all his might. The stalker’s great maw opened, revealing its razor teeth and the snake-like tongue that whipped around as it sped toward his face.