by Crae, Edward
He skidded around the turn and into the alley, driving as fast as he could through the narrow space. They blew through crates, boxes, and even a few wandering corpses until they finally emerged into an intersection. The area was filled with the dead, and Drew plowed through them like bugs. They bounced off the bumper, onto the hood, and splattered onto the windshield.
They continued through the intersection to the opening ahead of them. Dan swore he could see two people moving backwards, firing at an unknown attacker as they fled. He blinked his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Then, in the headlights, a stalker appeared.
The truck plowed into it mercilessly, throwing it at least twenty yards into the next block. Drew slammed on the brakes right after the impact, coming to a stop right outside of the alley. Though there were hundreds of dead rushing to mob them, their concern was whoever had been shooting.
As Dan turned to find the two people he saw, his heart skipped a beat. There was a large man—a very large man—and a smaller, yet tough-looking black woman wielding two giant revolvers. They were backing away, staring at them wide-eyed and desperate.
“Jake!” Dan shouted at the top of his lungs.
The woman’s eyes popped open as she heard the name. She turned to look at Jake, who was shocked and gleeful at the same time. The two of them ran toward the pickup, and Dan nearly twisted his own neck turning to Max.
“Open the fuckin’ door!” he shouted.
“Hurry the fuck up,” Drew growled. “They’re coming.”
Max threw open the door, practically ripping it off the hinges, and jumped over to the driver’s side. Jake and his companion piled in, ladies first, and slammed the door behind them. Drew punched it, squealing the tires as he turned back toward the highway.
He plowed through dozens and dozens of dead along the way, swerving purposely to hit them while screaming at the top of his lungs. Dan turned around in his seat, struggling to keep right-side up while Drew drove like a maniac.
“Dude!” he said, thrusting his hand into the back seat.
Jake grabbed it, squeezing it tightly, and pulling himself up to bear hug Dan against his seat.
“How ya been you crazy fucker!?” Jake shouted through Drew’s screaming.
Dan, feeling crushed by the big man, simply laughed out loud.
“Jake!” Drew shouted. “How the fuck did you survive?”
“I’ll fill you in when we’re safe,” Jake said, dropping back into his seat.
Dan couldn’t stop smiling. He looked over at Jake’s companion. She was an attractive, athletic-looking black woman, wearing a scarf tied around her head, a black suede trench coat, and a warm, inviting smile.
“Who’s your friend?” he asked.
“This is Toni,” Jake replied. “She’s cool. She saved my life.”
Dan stuck out his hand. Toni took it graciously, still smiling. “I’m Dan,” he said. “This fella next to you is Max, and our chauffer is Drew.”
Toni grinned, nodding her head. “It’s good to finally meet you,” she said. “I’ve heard so much about you both.”
Dan smiled. “Drew,” he said. “Get us home, buddy.”
After narrowly escaping the horde, they were now on the road back to the camp. The country roads were calming in the headlights, and everyone felt a great sense of relief being away from the chaos of Nashville.
Dan and Drew had cracked open a beer, and Toni took one as well.
“Man,” Dan said. “I can’t believe you made it out of there.”
“I almost didn’t,” Jake said. “And I didn’t want to… at the time anyway.”
“So what happened?”
“I’m not sure, really,” Jake replied. “All I remember is tossing the grenade, and then waking up when Toni here found me.”
“But you were bitten,” Dan said.
He saw Jake shrug in the rear-view mirror. “Dunno, man.”
“I don’t think it was a bite,” Toni said. “But if it was, he was immune somehow.”
“Could be my awesome blood sugar,” Jake said, grinning. “Ironic, eh?”
Dan looked over at Drew, who shrugged. He looked back at Max, who appeared to be going over some things in his head.
“Max?” Dan said.
“I seem to recall an endocrinologist’s paper I read in high school,” Max said. “Something about glucose being used to kill cancer cells somehow. I can’t, for the life of me, remember any of the details. It had to do with oxygen and ketones… or… I do not know.”
“Right on,” Jake said.
“In any case,” Dan said to Toni. “Thanks for taking care of him and getting him to us.”
“Well, from what he told me about you, I figured Nashville would be the most logical place for you to go. It was just dumb luck that we happened to get there while you were there.”
Dan chuckled. “We were just on a run,” he said. “But good call. We’re not too far from there, actually, just south and west of Columbus.”
“You guys got a camp?” Jake asked.
“A nice and secure one,” Dan said. “At least from the average baddies, that is.”
“How many people?”
“Five others,” Dan said, turning back to the road. “They’re good people. You’ll like them.”
“So what happened to you guys after the grenade thing?”
Dan sighed. “It’s a long, fucked up story, man,” he said. “But it’s how we ran into the guy who brought us to this camp.”
“Do tell,” Jake said, leaning forward with that infectious grin.
Chapter Ten
Travis’ mind was boggled with the nature of the mutant creature on the table before him. He sat in a folding chair with his elbows on the table, and his chin resting on his hands. He studied the thing intently, marveling at the structure of the thing’s limbs, and the texture of its flesh.
He had never seen anything like it in his life; very few people probably had. This was a completely different lifeform than the stumbling, infected humans, and it was one whose DNA had quite obviously been altered. But why; or how?
Those human-like infected he had encountered were simply men and women with what appeared to be some kind of fungal growth. It was a kind of fungus that consumed brain tissue, as well as flesh, but was unable to affect certain areas of the brain. The most primitive parts of the brain remained, along with some areas responsible for memories.
As far as the more aggressive type—the ones Dan and Drew called shamblers—he could only guess that their brains were similar, but with the primitive areas enhanced somehow. That would explain their heightened aggression. The fact that they had red eyes—the sclera—told him that there was likely some hemorrhaging there.
But this… this thing, as it were, was an enigma.
It was obviously Melanie at some point, but had mutated into something alien; something monstrous and feral. Fungus typically didn’t cause genetic mutation as far as he knew. Viruses do so to a certain extent, but never anything like this. No, this was a complete transmutation of one lifeform to another; another form of life that could not be classified as it didn’t fit into any categories of life as he—or anyone else—knew.
Was it reptile? Mammal? Terrestrial fish?
“Fuck,” he said in frustration.
He may never know.
Standing, he decided there was only one thing he could do. Dissecting the shuffler’s brain had given him some theories, so why not this creature? He drew his knife and moved around the table to stand over the creature’s head. He stared down at it, deciding where he could cut. Underneath its sparse layer of hair, he could see a sagittal suture; a long, barely noticeable depression that spanned from front to back.
He rested the tip of his knife against its beginning—right above the sloping forehead—and gently pressed down. The flesh was tough and rubbery, but the knife penetrated and, with a little effort, went into the skull. A small flow of greenish fluid ran out of the wound, and the metal
lic smell of pennies gave him pause.
Copper oxide, he thought. Far out, man.
He made his way down the suture, gently cutting into it in a can opener-type motion. The more he cut, the more green fluid leaked out. The smell was almost overwhelming. It wasn’t the smell of decomposition as with the shuffler, but that odd copper smell.
When he had finished creating the opening, he took each half of the skull in his hands, and gently pulled them apart. With a splatting, glopping sound, the skull was opened. He could see the brain, grayish-blue, with green veins spread over its surface. There was no fungus here; no mold, no mildew, just brain. And what an odd brain it was.
There was only the reptilian brain present, but it was larger than usual. The rest of the brain appeared to have been dissolved during the mutation process. Though once human, the thing before him was nothing more than a primitive lifeform; something devolved and devoid of any semblance of humanity.
It was nothing more than a monster—an alien one, at that.
“Jesus Christ,” Travis whispered, slowly shaking his head. “Evolution gone wrong.”
Still, there was no indication of how to classify it. It had no breasts, so it wasn’t mammalian. There were no scales, so it wasn’t fish or reptile. So what the fuck was it? Sighing, he went back to his chair, sitting back down, pulling off his gloves, and folding his arms across his chest.
There was nothing more he could do, he knew. Nothing but wonder, and possibly explore some more. But what would be his next move? The chest cavity? The abdomen? The…
Vagina?
It still had reproductive organs; at least on the outside. He stood then, putting his gloves back on, and placed his knife just above the pubic bone. Not really concerned with damaging anything in that area, he plunged the blade in, cutting a vertical incision. He then laid the knife to the side and used his hands to spread the flesh open.
Inside were the usual organs; stomach, intestines, gall bladder, and the uterus. That answered one question. It was mammalian. Strangely, the uterus was much larger than it should be, as if something were inside.
And it was moving!
“Oh my god,” Travis whispered.
He grabbed his knife again, holding it over the slightly squirming organ in hesitation. Should he cut it open, or just kill whatever was in there? What the hell could it possibly be? A baby stalker? A baby… human? Fucking E.T.? What?
The door suddenly slammed, scaring the shit out of him. He cried out, and his knife flew out of his hand. His heart jumped and began pounding as he turned around. Lena was there, holding her hand over her mouth.
“Fuck!” Travis exclaimed. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry,” Lena said, approaching the table. “Are you still studying that thing?”
He put his hands on the table on rested his weight on them, hanging his head down as his heart slowed back down to human speed.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m trying to figure out what happened. Or, at least, I was. That was until I saw this.”
He pointed into the lower abdomen, where the uterus was still squirming. Lena leaned in to look, then covered her mouth as she backed away, her eyes wide with horror. Before Travis could say anything, she turned and puked on the floor.
“Shit,” Travis said. “Sorry. I should have warned you.”
“Oh… my… God…” Lena stuttered between retches. “Is that thing pregnant?”
“I think so,” Travis said, shaking his head. “I don’t know, but it looks like it. Something is definitely alive in there.”
After a few seconds, Lena stood upright, holding her stomach, and turned back. “Maybe you should have a gun ready or something,” she said. “Just in case it’s dangerous.”
“If it’s anything like its mother, it’s definitely dangerous. Probably a giant bitch, too.”
Lena came back over to look again. Though her expression was still one of disgust, she managed to keep her cookies this time. Her brow furrowed as she looked over everything inside. Travis retrieved his knife. He held it over the uterus, preparing to cut it open, but Lena stayed his hand.
“Wait,” she said. “Maybe you should kill it first.”
Travis thought about it. That was probably a good idea. Maybe just a quick, killing stab before cutting open the womb.
“Okay,” he said. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
He shifted his grip on the knife, and then held it with both hands, point down. He gave Lena a quick look and a nod, and plunged it down.
The womb exploded in a jet of vile, green fluid that sprayed upward like a geyser. Travis and Lena jumped back, shielding their faces from the amniotic fountain as a deafening, high-pitched screech pierced the air.
Travis saw something leap upward through the green spray. He backed away, shielding Lena with his body. The lights were jarred with the impact of the escaping contents, and were coated with the greenish fluid.
He looked through the green-tinted light, seeking the source of the dying cat-like wail that made his skin crawl. There, clinging to the ceiling was the most vile and hellish face staring back at him with its fanged maw gaping and hissing.
“Jesus Christ!” Lena mumbled, too shocked to get the words out completely.
Travis was transfixed, frozen in horror as he stared at the creature. It flailed its four tentacles in a menacing circle, letting out an unearthly cry that froze his very soul. It leaped at him suddenly, its fangs bared and its claws poised to rip him apart.
“Shit!” he shouted, ducking, and dragging Lena down with him.
They rolled onto the floor together just as the creature splatted against the wall. It hung there for a moment, hissing at them, and leaped again. It overshot them both, landing on the floor several feet away. Travis retrieved his knife, blocking Lena as she scrambled backward on her palms and heels.
The creature hissed and jingled like shimmering winter bells. Travis felt the urge to vomit, but held it back as the creature poised itself to pounce. Behind him, Lena grabbed another chair, taking Travis’ side. The creature leaped at them. Travis dodged to the side, and the beast slammed into Lena’s folding chair. She slammed the steel thing to the floor, putting her weight on top of it to trap the creature.
Travis went into action, dropping to his knees and stabbing downward at the exposed head. The tip of the blade slid off, leaving only a small cut, enraging the monster even further. Lena slammed her knees down, putting all of her weight on it. Travis stabbed again, this time penetrating the wildly spinning eyeball.
The creature’s screech of pain was bone-chilling, but Travis drove the knife down, putting all of his weight behind it. A loud crunch sounded, and the screeching stopped. Travis rocked back on his heels, keeping his eyes on the creature as its thrashing died down. Lena, breathless, collapsed into him, and he put his arms around her; mostly for himself.
“Holy fuck, man,” he gasped. “That was intense.”
Lena looked up at him, seemingly shocked at his lack of concern. But, as he smiled back at her, her lips curled into a grin.
“No shit,” she said. “I think I peed a little.”
“Alright,” he laughed. “I think I’m done studying these shit things. Let’s get them out to the fire pit and burn ‘em up.”
Eric and Cliff walked along the banks of the creek, flashlights in hand, and guns at the ready. They had searched for over an hour now, and had found no sign of Mason’s body—or those of his men. The only thing they had found so far were the corpses of the shufflers, and the weird, pale things that Cliff and Dan had killed a few days earlier.
The search seemed fruitless and pointless. If Mason’s men had changed, they would likely have attacked the camp by now. Besides, what were the odds that all of them were infected? Then again, they were aggressive; that may be the contributing factor. None of it made any sense.
Frustrated, Cliff stopped, reaching into his pocket for a smoke. As he lit it, Eric sighed loudly, rubbing his eyes with fatigue
.
“I’m stumped,” he said. “We dumped the bodies right around here. No sign of any of them.”
“Well,” Cliff said. “There’s a chance they were eaten. Either by mutants or coyotes.”
“Melanie, though,” Eric continued. “If she mutated there would have to be a cocoon somewhere.”
“We don’t know that for sure. Dan said the first stalker they killed came from a dead body that had floated down his creek. Some hunter with his arm already ripped off. Maybe if they’re already dead, they don’t build cocoons.”
Eric shook his head. “I don’t know. The weird Siamese twin thing we saw at the church had a cocoon, and it pretty much looked the same as the Melanie thing did.”
Cliff shrugged. “Who knows, man? Either way, here we are yet again wandering around in the woods not really sure what we’re looking for.”
“Right, right,” Eric said.
“Seems kinda funny, don’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Cliff said. “There are only two of us now that Dan, Drew, and Max are out and about. Why are we out here when we should be guarding the camp?”
Eric nodded in agreement. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe we should get back. We can search again tomorrow.”
A shrill cry in the distance caught their attention. They froze for a moment, trying to figure out which direction the ruckus was coming from. Eric’s eyes suddenly went wide with horror.
“It’s the camp,” he said. “Dad’s in the room with that thing.”
“Fuck,” Cliff said, stamping out his cigarette. “Let’s go.”
Travis and Lena dragged the tarp out the door and toward the fire pit. The damn thing and its baby were heavy, and the two of them were winded by the time they had dragged it the fifteen feet outside. They let their corners drop, and Travis prodded the fire with a stick to stir up the coals. Lena threw a few more pieces of wood on it to get the flames going.