Twisted Reunion

by Tullius, Mark

  Del cracked his thumb, pictured the gun in his nightstand drawer. “I never do.”

  Billy leaned forward in his chair and turned toward Del. “What’s your problem with me, country boy? You jealous or what?”

  Del was afraid of what he might say if he opened his mouth. Martin attempted to break the tension and suggested, “Now, now, fellas, let’s be quiet and enjoy this.”

  “I’m going to head on in,” Del said as he rose from his chair. “Gotta get up early.” He reached for the kitchen door and was turning the knob when lightning flashed. Taylor yelled and nearly fell out of his chair.

  “What’s your problem, Taylor?” Billy asked.

  “Did you guys see that?” Taylor stammered, pointing toward the river. “Holy shit, did you see it?”

  “See what?” Billy asked, sounding bored.

  “Look, look!” Taylor screamed. “Down there in the shadows.”

  Del peered into the darkness. He couldn’t see anything, but he was afraid he knew what Taylor had seen. Straining to keep the fear from his voice, he asked, “What’d it look like?”

  “Leave the little girl alone,” Billy said. “He got spooked by a deer or some shit.”

  Taylor got to his feet and backed into the wall. “That was no deer. Keep looking down there. I’m not fucking around. Something’s out there.”

  Martin was starting to say that he couldn’t see anything, when the lightning struck again. No one said a word, but they all saw it.

  Billy got closer to the edge of the balcony and stared into the black of the backyard. Martin turned to Del and asked him what in the hell that thing was.

  “A lurker,” Del said.

  Suddenly Del became the center of attention. Bombarded with questions, Del tried to explain without sounding scared. “I’ve never seen one before, but that’s what it’s gotta be.”

  “You knew about these things?” Billy shouted.

  “I told you there were things here, but y’all didn’t listen to me. Never do.”

  Martin nearly shrieked. “What do we do? Who do we call?”

  “It’s alright,” Del said, trying to calm down everyone, including himself. “Just leave it alone and it’ll leave us alone. Let’s go inside. I don’t think it likes to be watched.”

  Billy returned to his chair. “Screw that. I’m gonna sit right here and watch where it goes. I’m not letting it sneak around until it finds a way into the house. Hell no, I’m not.”

  Martin ran into the kitchen to get the phone. Del told the other two, “I said you guys were crazy for living so close to the river. No one with any sense has a house near the water.”

  Electricity ripped through the darkness. The yellowish creature, looking like a man-sized lump of Play-Doh covered in mud and algae, slowly climbed the embankment, the rising river at its feet.

  “It’s getting closer,” Taylor shouted. “You didn’t say shit about those things.”

  “I said there were probably lurkers in the river. That’s why I said not to go down there.”

  “I thought it meant a fucking raccoon or skunk or some shit.”

  “Yeah,” Billy agreed, “or some crazy fish-thing.”

  Martin ran back onto the balcony, cell phone in his hand. “No signal.” Everyone else checked their own. Not a single bar. They went inside and found the landline was dead, too.

  “Storm must’ve knocked it out. Happens all the time,” Del said, even though he’d never had it go out.

  “Goddammit.” Taylor stuffed his phone back into his pocket. “I always gotta go at least ten feet from the house to make a call.”

  “So go do it,” Billy ordered.

  “Fuck you. You go do it.”

  Del said, “It won’t do no good no how. Police won’t do nothing.”

  “Why the hell not?” Taylor shouted. “There’s a monster down there!”

  “Relax,” Del said. “They won’t bother you as long as you don’t bother them. Just stay inside.” Del had no idea if this was true or not, but he’d heard it at the grocery store last week from two good ol’ boys picking up a carton of chum.

  “Absolutely,” Martin said. “We stay inside.”

  “And lock every door and window,” Billy said.

  Del smiled inside, enjoying that the oh-so-smart city boys were finally paying heed to what he said. “Just to be safe,” Del said and walked through the kitchen.

  “Where are you going?” Martin asked as a thunderclap shook the house.

  “To my room.” He could tell they were impressed with his couldn’t-care-less attitude and he wasn’t about to blow it by telling them he was going for his Glock. If the stories were true, the lurker wouldn’t go down easily. The good ol’ boys said they’d seen one take three rounds in the chest and still get away.

  Del paused to flip on the light before descending the staircase. He hurried down and headed for his room, disappointed at himself for being frightened. Nothing was in the house. The lurker would rummage around the river until it found a dog or cat or some unfortunate creature, and then it would return to its home near the Caniton caves.

  After entering his room and pulling his .357 out from under the mattress, Del stretched out on his bed and waited, listened to the raging storm. Twice he thought the loud bang outside his bedroom window might have been something other than thunder, but he reassured himself it was nothing but his nerves. Lurkers wouldn’t try to get in a house, especially a locked one with four men inside.

  Del studied the window, wondering if he should pull down the shade. He decided not to, figured he’d want to know if a monster was on the other side of the glass. He wouldn’t shoot it unless it attacked, but, if it did, he was gonna put a hole in that son of a bitch’s head.

  Someone upstairs shouted; it sounded like Billy. A moment later, everyone yelled. Del jumped off his bed and ran for the staircase. Bounding up the stairs two at a time, he reached the top and rushed through the kitchen, chambering a round, afraid of what he would find on the balcony. Before he lost his nerve, he kicked open the door and took aim.

  He lowered the gun when he realized the three idiots were cheering. Billy held a bow, a quiver of arrows rested at his feet.

  “He got him!” Taylor shouted. “He got that motherfucker.”

  “Right in the goddamned eye,” Billy said with his voice full of giddy pride.

  Martin smiled and clapped Billy on the back. “One heck of one shot, this guy.”

  Another flash of lightning. Del looked beyond the balcony and spotted the lurker lying flat on its back, the blue bolt of an arrow pointing toward the sky. He turned to the three men. “Why? Why’d you do that? I told you to leave them be.”

  “He was coming for the house,” Taylor said defensively.

  Del didn’t want to admit it, but the lurker was only fifteen yards from the house, its body illuminated by the light from the window in the back door. “You still shouldn’t have done that.”

  Thunder rocked the house and the skies opened, doubling the deluge. A muddy stream lapped at the dead lurker’s webbed foot. If the storm didn’t let up, there’d be flooding in the house within minutes.

  “Another one!” Taylor shouted, pointing just beyond the slain creature.

  Del followed the direction of Taylor’s trembling hand, straining to see through the sheet of pounding rain. A shapeless yellow figure was emerging from the roaring river, extending an arm toward its dead brethren.

  Billy nocked an arrow and told Taylor to get out of his way. Taylor did and Billy and took aim. Before Billy could shoot, Del grabbed hold of the arrow. “Don’t do it!”

  “Look at it!” Billy yelled. His arms trembled as he tried to keep the bow taut. “Let me shoot!”

  With his hand on the arrow, half expecting it to fly and rip the skin off his palm, Del glanced over the railing. The creature knelt in the muck next to its dead friend. It looked from the arrow to the balcony; its expressionless eyes studied each of them. Then it lifted its head to the sky
and a horrifying howl pierced the night, louder than the pounding rain and thunder.

  “Goddamn it! Let me shoot it!” Billy screamed, and Taylor and Martin both shouted for Del to let go of the arrow.

  Although he held the gun and could call the shots if he desired, Del wasn’t ready for that responsibility. He’d been taught to leave the lurkers alone, but what if that was wrong? And they’d already shot one. This wasn’t up to him anymore. They were all grown men. All he could do was tell them what he knew.

  A loud sucking pop, like the top being pulled off a can of tuna, drew their attention down below. The lurker held the arrow in its hand, a slimy black mass trailing from the tip. The body from which the arrow had been pulled began to deflate, large pieces of its mottled skin sloughing off and dissolving in the rising water that had already reached its chest.

  “Jesus fucking Christ,” Taylor said, looking like he might lose the fruity contents in his stomach.

  Del let go of the arrow and turned toward the kitchen. A loud twang sliced through the air, followed by a series of cheers and high fives.

  The weight of the gun was reassuring, but for the first time in his ten years of owning it, he wasn’t comfortable with only fifteen rounds in the magazine. He wished to God he had brought along his extra boxes of ammo that were collecting dust back home.

  Del knew they probably wouldn’t listen, but he shouted anyway, “Everyone get inside!”

  Only Billy responded, and it wasn’t polite, so Del continued toward his room. As he passed the fridge, Taylor yelled, “There’s another one!”

  “There, too!” Martin shouted.

  Billy said, “I see four of them!”

  Lurkers weren’t supposed to travel in packs, according to everything Del had heard. Some even claimed there weren’t but one or two that existed. Del ran for the near wall and flipped the switches, turning on the flood lights. When he made it to the balcony, he counted six of the disgustingly strange beasts. Three were sloshing through the river toward the dissolving heap of yellow by the back door. The other three were already on the driveway.

  “The Escalade! Fuck no!” Billy shrieked, nocking an arrow and taking aim. He released the arrow and it zipped past the nearest lurker and punctured the driver’s door.

  “They’re too far away,” Taylor said. “Get the ones near the house.”

  Martin agreed and told Billy to get the ones closest to the back door.

  Billy turned to Del. “I’ll take care of these. Get the ones out there.”

  A series of thuds came from the driveway. Though not appearing very solid, the lurkers packed a punch. In a matter of seconds, the Escalade was crumpled. “That’s a seventy-thousand-dollar vehicle, you motherfuckers!” Billy cried and shot one straight through the neck.

  “It’s already ruined. You’ve got insurance,” Taylor reminded him.

  Billy was out of arrows. “Give me your gun,” he said to Del.

  Del shook his head. The sound of smashing glass and crunching metal mixed with the roaring river.

  “Come on, you pussy,” Billy said. “If you’re not gonna use the gun, give it to me.”

  “I’ll shoot them if they come in the house. We don’t need to piss them off any more than we already have.”

  Another deafening howl tore through the night. Billy said, “They’re taunting us.”

  “Let them.” Del turned his back on the group. “I suggest you guys get inside.”

  “Fuck you,” Billy said and started charging. Del spun toward Billy and shoved the barrel of the .357 at Billy’s head. “Come at me again and I’ll put a bullet between your eyes, you son of a bitch.”

  Billy glared at Del, but the Glock’s barrel must have been too intimidating because he finally stepped back.

  Still aiming at Billy’s forehead, tempted to pull the trigger, Del said, “Do what you want, but you’re not touching this gun.”

  Del spotted a quiver in the corner. So did Billy, but he kept eye contact with Del. “I’m not scared of them. Not like you.”

  “Yeah, and I’m not drunk or stupid like you,” Del said.

  Billy brushed past Del, grabbed an arrow, and ran for the front door. The guy was as dumb as anyone Del had ever met. Once Del heard the door open and close, he returned his attention to the back where the lurkers were still reducing the Escalade to a hunk of scrap metal.

  “Hurry up, Del,” Taylor urged, peering over the railing. “They’re right below us.”

  “Back up and be quiet. Both of you.” From the look on Martin’s face, it was obvious that Martin didn’t like being told what to do, so Del added, “Trust me on this.”

  Martin nodded and stepped away from the railing just as a shrill twang came from the driveway. The lurker who’d been caving in the rear of the Cadillac fell to its knees, the blue tip of the arrow sticking out the back of its head. Billy rushed onto the scene, grabbed a stray arrow off the ground. With the bow stretched to its limit and an arrow ready to fly, he swiveled towards the lurker on the passenger side and let the arrow loose. It missed its target and glanced off the demolished vehicle.

  Billy looked around for another arrow. With the unnatural speed of a tsunami, the lurkers hurtled toward Billy from either side. Before he could do so much as scream, lurkers were lying on top of him, one ripping through his stomach, throwing heaps of intestines over its shoulder, while the other one clamped its massive jaws on Billy’s face and began tearing out chunks.

  Taylor was yelling something at Del when an enormous crash below shook the balcony. Del glanced over the railing, but he didn’t see any of the creatures, only the water lapping at the house.

  “What in hell was that?” Martin asked, his voice shaking worse than the balcony had.

  “The door, I think.”

  “You think?” Taylor yelled. Before Del could tell him to back away, Taylor was on his hands and knees, his head between the posts of the railing, peering over the edge. “Holy shit. They knocked down the goddamn door! They’re inside!”

  “Come on,” Del said as he watched the two lurkers in the driveway get up from their victim, leaving an unrecognizable mess where Billy had been only moments before. Both of them staggered toward the Escalade, grabbed hold of the rear bumper and heaved the SUV off into the brush. Del felt a sense of helplessness at their inhuman strength.

  Taylor followed Del’s gaze in time to see the Escalade crash onto its roof, its momentum rolling it into the river. “They’re damming it.”

  Martin’s eyes grew wider. “What do you mean dam?”

  “Taylor, get away from the railing,” Del ordered. “Both of you follow me. Come on.”

  Suddenly, a purple tongue the width of Del’s wrist, and God knew how long, shot through the air, wrapped around Taylor’s neck and started to pull him through the railing. Del yelled for Martin to grab Taylor’s feet as he ran to the railing and stuck the .357’s barrel against the beast’s tongue. Taylor gurgled as he tried to pull away from the tongue with the gun just inches from his face. Realizing he had to risk damaging Taylor’s hearing in order to save his life, Del pulled the trigger. The tongue blew apart, splattering the side of Taylor’s face.

  Martin yanked Taylor back and helped him tear at the dissolving tissue still wrapped around his neck, clumps plopping on the ground.

  Del held the kitchen door open for them. “Inside! Now!”

  This time there was no hesitation. Martin brushed by Del. Taylor cried out. He had been right behind Martin, but now he was reeling backward, one grotesque tongue gripping his left ankle, and another latched onto his right bicep.

  Del reached for Taylor’s outstretched hand, but he wasn’t fast enough. Del heard a sickening snap as Taylor’s lower back smashed into the railing, the agony on his face indicating that it was his back that had broken, not the wood railing.

  Martin stayed pressed against the wall at the back of the balcony as Del ran to the railing, aiming with his right hand, trying to pull Taylor back with his left. There
were five lurkers below; two were yanking with their tongues while the others waited patiently.

  The lurkers were using Taylor to help pull themselves up. Just as Del was about to fire at the one latched onto Taylor’s ankle, the creature next to it let its own tongue fly. Del swiveled and fired two rounds, both bullets striking the lurker’s spongy forehead at the same instant the meaty tongue slapped Del’s forearm and then fell to the floor.

  Del turned back to his original target and fired two more rounds. The creature fell backward, losing its hold on Taylor’s leg. Neither Del nor Taylor was prepared for the sudden release of tension. Taylor fell forward, his face bouncing off the floor. Del lost his grip, and Taylor was whipped off the balcony, his scream silenced abruptly when he splashed into the rising water below.

  Pulling the trigger as fast as he could, Del killed the lurker that had pulled Taylor down, as well as the one whose teeth were buried in Taylor’s neck. Before he could shoot the third, an explosion rocked the house. The indoor lights went out all at once, leaving the floodlight as the only thing between them and complete darkness.

  The black seemed to amplify the smacking, slurping, and snarling down below. Del backed away from the railing until he bumped into Martin, shaking against the door. He stepped back into the pitch-black kitchen, bringing Martin with him and closing the door behind them.

  “I don’t want to be here,” Martin whispered.

  “The circuit breaker is down there. They took it out.”

  “We need to go away from here.”

  Del was just as scared as Martin, but he didn’t like hearing the panic in his boss’s voice. “You want to try running out the front door? I don’t.”

  “My Porsche. It’s in the garage.”

  Del looked around the dark room, unable to see past the kitchen’s center island. “Even if the lurkers haven’t gotten into the garage, the water sure as hell has. The car probably won’t start.”

  “We try.”

  Del waited for a crash of thunder to finish before he told Martin to go right ahead and try to reach his car.

  “We stick together?”

  “Yeah,” Del said. He sniffed the air. Something was burning.