The Next World

by Gerry Griffiths

  “Hey, what the—” Ryan never got to finish his sentence as another man appeared and punched him in the face. He fell on the ground next to his stepfather.

  Celeste screamed from the Jeep.

  Frank winced when his assailant kicked him in the ribs. He looked up. A third man was molesting Celeste, forcing her down on the back seat.

  Their barbaric attackers were shirtless and sweaty, wearing filthy baggy pants and sandals. They look crazed and violent. The two poachers who had assaulted Frank and Ryan were wearing sheathed machetes.

  The one with the assault rifle struck Ryan between the shoulder blades with the butt stock, knocking the wind out of the young man and forcing him to gasp for air.

  Each man grabbed one of Ryan’s hands by the wrists and they hauled him over to a tree stump.

  Celeste continued to scream as the man ripped her clothes.

  One man pinned Ryan down and draped his right arm over the flat stump. The other man put his assault rifle down, pulled out his machete, and raised the rusty blade over his head.

  Eyes on the Jeep, Frank crawled for his rifle.

  That’s when he heard Ryan scream, “No, God, please don’t…”

  54

  Wanda glanced out the back door of the clinic. It was nearly nightfall. She heard an engine and ducked back just as the first truck pulled up in the compound. Three men climbed out of the cab. The two that were carrying machetes were average height and weight, but the third man was short and tubby, well over two hundred pounds. He was armed with a handgun.

  They headed toward the open doorway.

  Stepping backward down the gloomy hallway—a defense tactic had been to unscrew all of the overhead light bulbs—Wanda went around a corner and got into position.

  She could hear the men entering the building, talking in low whispers. She hunkered down in the shadows. Everything seemed eerily quiet. She figured the three who came into the clinic were instructed to massacre everyone inside.

  Abrafo and the other three poachers were most likely combing the perimeter outside and searching the cottages for Duna. Wanda knew eventually they would get to the animal enclosures. Even though Duna was bound and gagged, it was doubtful if Isoba could keep him quiet and hidden for long.

  Sooner or later they would find Duna.

  Wanda could tell by their footsteps that they were splitting up to widen their search of the building, which she had counted on them doing. She could hear one coming her way.

  She waited until the man was only ten feet away before stepping out from her hiding place. “That’s far enough!”

  The man stopped, surprised by her bold move. Here was an injured woman with her arm in a sling, ready to oppose him. How stupid could she be? He looked her up and down then sneered and raised his machete, ready to rush her.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Wanda said. She turned sideways with her arm in the sling facing the intruder.

  The poacher yelled something in his language and charged.

  Three bright muzzle flashes lit up the hallway as Wanda pulled the trigger on the Beretta concealed in her sling. The rapid fire pelted the man in the chest and sent him flying onto the floor.

  ***

  Adanna could hear heavy breathing like a water buffalo laboring up a hill. Armed with a sawed-off shotgun, she hid behind a door that was slightly ajar so she could see anyone coming down the dark corridor. Judging by the approaching man’s silhouette, he was rotund and twice her weight. But that didn’t alarm her. Once he was close enough, she would step out from behind the door and cut him down to size with the scattergun.

  Two shots fired in the gloom.

  Adanna ducked.

  The bullets ripped holes in the door, missing her head by mere inches.

  Adanna kicked the door back and fired off a blast of buckshot. The pellets sprayed the wall. But the man wasn’t there. He had stepped back out of the line of fire.

  A beefy hand reached out and grabbed the barrel of Adanna’s shotgun and ripped the weapon right out of her hands. Then a fist came out of nowhere and clipped her across the jawbone. She went staggering back and landed flat on her butt.

  The portly man lumbered over and kicked her in the chest with his broad foot.

  Adanna fell back, and before she knew what was happening, the heavy man was sitting on her chest with his thick, sausage fingers around her throat.

  Adanna couldn’t reach up to pry his fingers away because the man had her arms pinned under his knees. She could feel her airway closing, kinking like a twisted tube, and her head went woozy…

  “Get off my sister!”

  The man turned and looked up.

  A white blur pummeled his face, smashing his nose into mush. He threw back his head and roared with rage. He released his grip so that he could push himself up from the floor.

  Adanna took in a deep gasping breath. As the man struggled to get to his feet, she reached over and snatched the shotgun off the floor. Raising the barrel, she aimed for the man’s back and pulled the trigger. At such close range, the cluster of lead riddled his spine. His legs turned to jelly and he belly-flopped on the floor.

  Wasting no time, Adanna got back on her feet. She gazed at the person standing in front of her. “That was some hit.”

  “Yes it was,” Dayo said. “Broke my cast.”

  ***

  “Someone’s shooting,” Dillon said.

  “Quiet, they’ll hear you,” Ally snapped at her little brother and put her hand over his mouth. They were hiding under the table in the examination room. A large sheet was draped over the front so they couldn’t be seen by anyone entering the room.

  “Ummph,” Dillon mumbled, pulling Ally hand away. “Hey…”

  “Shh, I hear something.”

  There was a creak as the door opened, followed by footfalls entering the room.

  Ally and Dillon looked at each other, afraid to breathe.

  Dillon closed his eyes.

  Ally’s head cocked as she tried to figure out where the interloper was based on his sounds as he crept about the room.

  After enduring agonizing seconds thinking they were going to be discovered, the door creaked, signally that the prowler was leaving.

  Ally and Dillon were too scared to move. Finally, Dillon said, “See, I told you they wouldn’t...”

  The sheet flew up and an ugly man with a scar across his cheek and rotted teeth grinned when he made Ally and Dillon scream.

  55

  The poacher standing over Ryan was about to come down with his machete when a loud buzzing emanated from the trees. He and the man holding Ryan by the wrist turned to see what was causing the strange sound. The man straddling Celeste was also drawn by the strange reverberation and sat back on his haunches to take a look.

  Lying on the ground and not far from the Jeep—and his rifle—Frank was quite familiar with the sound, having listened to countless tape recordings and conducting lengthy research on the highly aggressive species. He had even developed a three-hour lesson plan for his students on this specific animal.

  This particular order of insect was so deadly in large numbers, they could easily kill a horse. Judging by the stentorian hum, the swarm had to be enormous.

  Imagine his surprise when three Africanized killer bees flew out of the trees.

  The bees were as big as the Willys Jeep—only with two sets of wings.

  The man about to chop off Ryan’s arm dropped his machete and scooped up his AK-47. He pulled back the operating rod, released the handle, and the bolt slammed forward, feeding a round into the chamber—all of which took two precious seconds, enough time for one of the bees to buzz down and snatch him off the ground.

  Frank looked up as the man was hauled into the air. The man jammed the muzzle of his assault rife into the bee’s underbelly and fired off a quick succession of bullets that ripped the bee’s abdomen apart in an eruption of silver tracheal gore. The act gave the man the opportunity to escape the clutches of his ca
ptor. If only he hadn’t been fifty feet in the air.

  The man screamed all the way down, plummeting to the ground. He hit just as the enormous bee splattered on top of his dead body.

  A giant bee swooped over the Jeep and latched onto Celeste’s attacker. The man yelled, flailing his arms to break free as the mid-tibia spurs on the bee’s six legs used for collecting pollen, pierced his flesh. The bee tucked the end of its abdomen and drove its curved stinger into the man’s back, the tip sticking clear out of his chest and still shooting out venom.

  But when the bee attempted to take flight, the man slipped from its clutches. As he fell away, the connected stinger ripped out from the end of the bee’s abdomen, followed by a long, gooey gut-strand. The two crashed to the ground.

  The last bee was hovering over Ryan and the poacher by the stump.

  Frank crawled over to the Jeep. He grabbed his rifle, aimed the gun, and pulled the trigger.

  The high-caliber bullet punched a hole in the poacher’s chest and exited out his back in a red spurt.

  “Ryan! Get over here!” Frank yelled. He drew back the bolt to insert the next shell into the chamber and closed the breech. He put the giant bee in his sights and pulled the trigger.

  Nothing happened.

  There should have been another round in the clip. He looked down at the ground and saw that the magazine had fallen out.

  Ryan rushed past him and jumped behind the wheel. Celeste had crawled into the front passenger seat, so Frank vaulted in the back.

  Firing up the engine, Ryan drove off while Frank frantically felt around the floor for a loose cartridge that he could load into the gun.

  The Jeep raced across the uneven terrain, bouncing like a racecar slamming over a series of jarring speed bumps.

  Celeste screamed and Frank looked up at the enormous striped underbelly over his head.

  The giant bee seized Celeste by the shoulders.

  Frank grabbed her by the waist to anchor her down. He could feel the forceful downdraft of the bee’s mighty wings beating on his face.

  Ryan kept one hand on the wheel and grasped Celeste by her ripped shirt.

  “Don’t let me go!” Celeste screamed.

  Frank could feel his grip slipping.

  The bee was incredibly strong and lifted Celeste off the seat.

  “I can’t hold on!” Ryan yelled as a piece of Celeste’s shirt tore off in his hand.

  A dark shadow swooped over the Jeep and the bee suddenly released Celeste, who fell back in her seat.

  “What the hell is that?” Ryan gasped as he slowed down the Jeep.

  Frank gazed in amazement as the heinous creature darted with its prey for the closest tree. The bee’s abductor was slightly larger with primarily blue coloring on its head, legs, and wings. It hooked a leg on a thick bough and dangled holding its catch, driving its spear-like proboscis deep into the bee’s thorax. “You’re looking at a species from the Asilidae family or what’s commonly called a robber fly, which is known to hunt prey equal to its own size.”

  “Thank God for that,” Celeste said, quite shaken up.

  “That’s sick,” Ryan said, watching the bee shrivel up as the grotesque robber fly sucked the body fluids out with its long proboscis.

  Frank was about to agree when he heard distant gunfire. “The clinic’s under attack!” He reached down for the box of bullets but was thrown back against the seat when Ryan tromped on the accelerator.

  56

  The poacher tried to drag Dillon out from under the examining table but Ally held on fast to her brother’s other arm. “Let him go!” she hollered.

  The man was relentless and kept yanking. Ally thought for sure he was going to rip Dillon’s arm out of the socket, especially the way Dillon was yelling.

  Rather than have her brother injured, Ally let go and the poacher fell back on the floor.

  Ally scurried out the other side, grabbed the edge of the gurney, and ran it across the room. The underside cleared Dillon’s head as he was on his knees but the edge of the rolling table rammed into the man’s head as he was getting up and knocked him back down.

  “Dillon, grab my hand!” Ally reached for her brother.

  The scowling poacher got up, snatched Dillon by the back of his shirt, and stood blocking the doorway.

  “Leave my brother—” Ally turned when she heard a loud thud in the corner of the room. It was coming from the refrigerator.

  Again, something pounded on the inside of the door like it was trying to get out.

  Curiosity got the better of the man. He dragged Dillon along and crossed the room to see what was inside. Before he could reach for the handle, the fridge door burst open.

  Ally couldn’t believe her eyes. It was a giant brown spider. It was hard to imagine it could even fit in such close quarters when it stretched out and stood on its spindly legs.

  The arachnid’s head and body were as big as jumbo-size beach balls, and it was six feet tall standing on its stilt-like appendages.

  The poacher was too scared to move, giving Dillon the chance he needed to run over and hide behind his sister.

  Ally couldn’t tell if the six black eyes on the spider’s head were looking at her or the frightened man. The creature swayed side to the side, not so much to keep its balance as preparing to lunge. She stepped back, bumping Dillon against the wall just as the spider spit out long, continuous strings of white silk from its mouth.

  The poacher screamed as the crisscrossing patterns of silk singed his flesh and enveloped his head and torso like a cocoon.

  ***

  Ryan pulled into the compound next to the poachers’ truck and they all jumped out. Frank, the only one with a gun, led the way inside the dark clinic.

  This time there was a bullet in the chamber and three in the magazine.

  They went down a back hall and found a dead man lying on the floor. Someone was standing at the junction, which led down the unlit corridor to the examination room.

  Frank raised his rifle. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me,” Wanda replied.

  “Are you guys okay?”

  Two other figures stepped out of the gloom.

  Frank trained his gun in their direction.

  “It’s us, Dayo and Adanna,” Adanna said.

  “Where’re Ally and Dillon?” Frank asked.

  “Hiding in the examination room,” Wanda replied.

  “And Dr. Tomie?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “We’ll go look for her,” Ryan said. He and Celeste went down the hall toward the veterinarian’s office.

  “Come on,” Frank said to Wanda. “Let’s go get Ally and Dillon.”

  Frank groped in the dark until they reached the end of the hall. “Where are the lights?”

  “Reach up, screw in the bulb,” Wanda replied.

  Frank felt around until he felt the glass globe and twisted it all the way into the socket until bright light illuminated the passageway. He glanced over at the observation window that faced into the examination room. He could see Ally and Dillon huddled a few feet from the door.

  “Oh, my God, Frank,” Wanda yelled out when she saw the giant spider cornering her children.

  Frank yanked open the door and stepped into the room.

  The spider sensed a new prey and sidestepped around to shoot its incapacitating propellant.

  Wanda didn’t give it a chance and opened fire with her Beretta, each shot punching a hole in the sphere-shaped carapace.

  Frank leveled his rifle and blasted the thing in the head until it fell on the floor.

  The unrecognizable mass looked like bug splatter on a windshield.

  Ally and Dillon ran up to their mom and they all hugged while Frank stared down at the slimy mess on the floor.

  Frank turned when Celeste came into the room.

  “Oh my,” she said, once she saw the gore splattered everywhere.

  “Where’s Ryan?” Wanda asked as Ally and Dillon stepped back
from their mother.

  “He’s with Dr. Tomie in the gunroom.” Celeste looked at Frank. “Is this the same spider?”

  “I believe so. Seems it didn’t die after all,” Frank said. “After it ate the alien life form it must have gone into a dormant stage and metabolized later while it was in the fridge.”

  “Did you say alien life form?” Wanda asked, bewildered.

  “Yeah, they’re in the meteorites,” Celeste said.

  Wanda gave Frank an incredulous look and laughed. “And this is the first I’m hearing of this?”

  “Sorry, dear, but it been a little hectic.”

  “You’re telling me.”

  “So what, is this some type of invasion?”

  “Gayle seems to think so,” Frank said.

  Wanda glanced around the room. “Where’re Ally and Dillon?”

  57

  “Will you wait up?” Ally called out as she chased after her little brother, keeping her voice down just in case there were more of the poachers skulking around. Dillon ran down the tenebrous hall and out the back door.

  Ally rushed after him into the dark. There was a sliver of moon etched in the night sky so she could make out shapes. She heard small footfalls near the pens and knew instantly why Dillon had run off. He was worried about Lucy.

  She crept along the outer railing of the corrals and edged toward Lucy’s stall.

  “Dillon!” she whispered sharply.

  “We’re in here,” he answered.

  Ally pushed the gate open and snuck in the enclosure. Dillon was standing beside Lucy at the end of the stall. She seemed restless so he was rubbing her side to calm her down. The baby rhino nestled her head against Dillon, content to have the boy’s company.

  “She was scared,” Dillon said, justifying why he had run off.

  “Dillon, it’s dangerous out here. There are...” but then she clammed up when she heard movement out in the compound.

  Shuffling footsteps.

  Coming their way.

  “Shhh,” Ally whispered. She hunkered down with Lucy and Dillon. That’s when she realized she had left the gate open—an open invitation for whoever was out there.