by Sean Shake
So that’s what had been around my neck.
Didn’t even know lizard had teeth.
“Come on you bastard,” I said, blade raised, shield up, “bring it.”
It hissed at me, its neck frill flapping, then it turned and ran at the neighbor’s fence. I thought for a moment it might plow through, but at the last second it leapt into the air, soaring over the fence, landing in their yard before immediately hopping up onto their roof and taking two long strides, then leaping off again at the front of the house, and disappearing into the night.
I heard another noise, but this time it was Hunter.
She was still alive, and looking at me.
I went to her and knelt beside her. “Are you—” I began to ask, but then scanned her body and saw the grievous wounds, and decided not to ask if she was okay.
She answered me anyway. “They seemed to lose interest in me, once they started attacking you,” she explained, her voice strained. She tried to sit up.
“I don’t think you should—”
“Just help me up. I need to get my wings back.”
I did as she asked, and grimaced at the chunk of her breast that was missing. At least it wasn’t bleeding.
Her wings were in tatters, bones broken and hanging in a way that looked incredibly painful.
“Help me get to my feet.”
“Hunter, I don’t think you can—”
“Just help me get to my feet. Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”
I did, and though she had to lean on me, she did stand on her own two feet.
I heard bones creak and slide against each other, and could only imagine the agony that caused.
But she just clenched her teeth and bore it.
Then she took a breath and straightened, and as she exhaled her wings started pulling back into her—those broken, torn, tattered things—and as they did, her flesh started to heal, as though her body was using the wings as raw material to rebuild with.
When they were retracted completely, and her back was smooth once more, she wasn’t completely healed, but her bones seemed to have mended.
Though she still had wounds over her entire body. The wound on her breast had mostly closed up though, and now was just a red circle of teeth marks.
She looked around at the dead, naked corpses and shook her head. “It’s too bad.”
“What is?” I asked. There were so many things she could be referring to. All of it was bad.
“That you had to kill them. I think there’s a way to turn them back.”
“Oh, thanks for making me feel better.”
She shook her head. “Not that we could do. That they could do.”
She made no motion or gesture at this to indicate who she was talking about, so I asked, “Who?”
She shook her head once more, then continued looking around the area. “Where’s my bra? I don’t think Abigail’s grandparents would appreciate if I walked around topless. They already seem uncomfortable that I’m only wearing underwear.”
I chuckled. “It is a little odd to be walking around in your underwear.”
“I used to sew. Maybe I can make a superhero costume. One that breathes, and doesn’t cover much. I always ran warm, but it’s even worse now.”
I placed my hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t feel very warm to me.
Seeming to read my mind—perhaps actually reading my mind, as I thought back to our flight together—she said, “You’re not exactly the same as me, but I don’t think you’d be able to feel how warm I really am. You’ve got a higher tolerance now, and with that comes a loss of some sensitivity.”
“You’re the first person to ever call me sensitive.”
A small grin appeared. “I was calling you insensitive. Now help me find my bra.”
42
After finding her now-very-dirty bra and putting it back on—even though I would’ve preferred her to keep it off—we scanned the area one more time to make sure it was clear of those alien monsters, then went down to the cellar.
I would’ve liked to have gotten rid of the bodies, but we simply didn’t have time.
And this was a new world. I needed to protect my friends from anything that might hurt them physically, but not from reality. They needed to understand how harsh of a new world it was.
When they saw it was us, both Abigail and Emma ran and hugged me tightly.
“We thought you were dead,” Abigail cried. “We heard so many horrible noises and—” She cut off, choking up, unable to go on.
Emma stood on her tiptoes and grabbed my head, pulling my lips down to meet hers, and kissed me. Then she placed her hand on my chest and smiled. “You look stronger.”
It was odd to have people happy to see me, and I didn’t exactly know how to react, so I just stood there, and let them hug and kiss me, until they were all hugged and kissed out.
But it wasn’t unpleasant. And I wasn’t sure if the warmth I felt in my chest was from the stone I had swallowed, or from something entirely more mundane, but not any less important.
Then they saw Hunter.
“Oh my God,” Abigail gasped, “you look horrible.”
“Thanks,” Hunter deadpanned.
Emma went over to her, examining the wounds, not quite touching as she moved her fingers over them, cataloging. “You should let me clean these.”
Hunter shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t know that we have time. I think we need to move. Staying in one place is…” She trailed off.
I looked to Gabriel and Mary, who were standing a few feet away, watching us and holding each other, Mary with tears in her eyes. Even Gabriel had a hint of dampness.
“Do you have a car?” I asked.
“Of course we have a car,” Gabriel replied, slightly offended. “What, you think Canada is a third-world nation?”
“Actually I always thought of Canada as the land of the polite people.”
“Screw you,” Gabriel said. Then, with a grin, he added, “Sorry.”
43
“I’ll pack a bag with supplies,” Gabriel said.
“Oh,” Abigail said. “You don’t know Gage here. He is the best supply-loser I’ve ever met.”
Gabriel furrowed his brow at his granddaughter.
“Nothing, never mind. Go ahead Gramps. Hurry up. Don’t overpack like you always do.”
“I never overpack,” he huffed.
Mary patted her husband on the back, then, to Abigail, “Don’t worry dear, I won’t let him.”
We followed them out of the basement—and again I looked at those bushes as we exited, though this time didn’t feel anything.
In the house, Mary and Gabriel went to pack while we waited in the kitchen, Abigail stuffing yet more snacks into her CamelBak.
I looked around at the girls, and thought how strange it was that I had ended up with them. A nurse, a wise-ass, and a demon girl.
I thought it was even stranger that I liked all of them. Maybe if I hadn’t slept with Emma yet, I would’ve assumed it was just due to my almost two years in prison without a woman’s company. But now, after being with Emma, I could think more clearly, and…
And it was more than that.
I liked Emma’s caring and stoic nature. Abigail’s goofy, yet flirty demeanor. Even Hunter’s stony determinedness.
And there was that connection Hunter and I had shared when we had flown together. That was… not exactly like sex, but damn near. She’d been inside my head—we’d been inside each other’s heads.
“Where do you think we should go?” Emma asked me, drawing me to the present moment.
I rubbed my left eye. “Well…” I scanned the girls. “Any of you have any family you need to get?”
“I think my family will only be saved when the world is saved,” Hunter said cryptically, leaning against the kitchen island, arms crossed under her breasts. There was still a bright red circle of teethmarks on one of them.
Emma simply shook her he
ad.
“I guess that leaves you?” I said to Abigail. For some reason, she was trying to get a box of Lucky Charms to fit into her already stuffed backpack. “I suppose you want to go back and look for your parents at your house?”
She bit her lip uncertainly, momentarily pausing in her packing efforts. “I don’t know. I mean by the time we get there, I imagine they’ll be gone again. I don’t think that’s somewhere they’d wait for me.”
“Where do you think they’d go after that?” I asked.
She shook her head and shrugged. “Maybe back here. But we can’t stay here.”
“All right. You leave a note for your parents here, and then…” I trailed off, not sure what we would do next.
But I knew we couldn’t just react anymore. We had to act.
So how could we act?
I thought back to the hands around my neck in the hospital. The surprise when I didn’t react as the eyeless guard had expected me to.
I had changed since then, grown more powerful.
And now, I realized, I was ready.
It was time to surprise him again.
It was time to chase him down.
44
Gabriel offered me some fresh clothes, but I rejected. He wasn’t a short man, but I was much taller, and the jeans would have been beyond highwaters.
My ninja suit was torn up, but it would do for a while longer.
Maybe we could stop at another Walmart.
They also offered Hunter clothes, but the only thing she was interested in were bra and panties, and Mary didn’t have any that would fit her.
So we all piled into Abigail’s grandparents’ car, a Cadillac, dirty, bedraggled, and generally looking like something out of a zombie movie poster.
Even the Cadillac fit that image.
They also had a Prius, but luckily no one suggested taking it.
While the Caddy was a big car, it was still cramped with four in the backseat.
I didn’t like not driving, but it was Gabriel’s car, and besides, he was older than me, so I felt I couldn’t just force him to be a passenger in his own vehicle like I had Abigail.
Abigail, against my protests, sat on my lap, saying that she was the smallest and I was the biggest.
I would’ve preferred Emma, for more than one reason, but mainly because I felt uncomfortable having their granddaughter sit on my lap, even if she was an adult.
But they either didn’t mind, or didn’t say anything. Or more likely, were used to Abigail’s antics.
About twenty miles after crossing the unattended border into Michigan, we stopped for gas.
We all got out to stretch our legs, except for Mary, who stayed in the car.
While Gabriel filled the tank—at least the pumps were still working—Abigail said she had to pee and dragged Emma toward the mini-mart with her.
Hunter stared after them.
I lifted my chin in their direction. “Why don’t you go with them?”
She shook her head.
I studied her, her wounds had now all healed, though her bra was still stained with mud and grass from our backyard battle, and her panties were a solid red from blood. “How do you feel? You look better.”
“I feel fine.” She finally tore her gaze from Abigail and Emma as they entered the mini-mart, and looked at me. “They’re winning you know.”
I frowned. “Emma and Abigail?”
She shook her head slightly. “The things. Look around. You see anyone?”
I’d already scanned the area out of habit, but I now looked again.
Indeed it was empty. There were a few cars here and there littering the road, but not as many as I would’ve expected during an apocalypse.
There were even some that had damage to them. But for the most part, things looked normal, just very empty.
While that hadn’t seemed so strange when it was the middle of the night, it no longer was the middle of the night. It was now early morning, and the roads should’ve been bustling.
Yet they weren’t. They were empty.
“I guess they’ve converted a lot of us…” I trailed off, looking at the demon girl.
My eyes fell on the wound in her shoulder.
She reached up and touched it lightly. “You haven’t asked me much,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“You just sort of accepted me, that I’m… whatever I am. That I was able to talk to you through your mind. That I could fly. That I could make you fly.”
“Well, I’ve seen some pretty crazy things in my life. This is probably the craziest, but it’s a close call. Besides,” I held up my hands and made them into fists, the shield appearing on my left, and the blade appearing on my right, shooting up toward the sky, “this is pretty weird too. Comparatively, horns, a really weird tan, and growing wings don’t seem too strange.”
She nodded. “I’m not exactly sure what’s going on. I get… I don’t know, snippets, like… I’m a broken receiver. And I’m afraid they might be getting snippets from me, too,”
“A transceiver, then.”
She furrowed her brows. “Sure, I guess. Anyway…” She licked her lips. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“What do you mean? Going after the eyeless guard?”
“Yes. We almost died, you know, back there. And those were just the animals.”
“Are you saying they shouldn’t have been a challenge?”
She shook her head. “All I’m saying is we almost died. Both of us. We should just be careful.”
“I’m tired of looking over my shoulder, worrying what will happen. I’m tired of running. So I’m using that feeling, that sense of him—of it, that I have, and tracking him down. I don’t know if it will lead me to him. Can’t know that. But I feel that it will. I feel that I can beat him, once and for all.”
“Just be careful,” she repeated. “Plans often go wrong.”
“You don’t have to worry—”
Emma and Abigail came out of the mini-mart, holding bags of SunChips and laughing, distracting me.
When I looked back to Hunter, she was walking toward the Cadillac, where Gabriel was still filling up the tank.
Jesus, how big of a tank did this thing have?
“SunChips!” Abigail shouted, holding up the bag triumphantly, and for some reason I thought of IHOP.
I smiled and gave her a thumbs up, then went back to the car.
Five minutes later and we were back on the road, Abigail sitting on my lap, happily crunching down on SunChips. Cheddar, this time.
That wasn’t all they’d gotten. They had a bag full of goodies.
Emma was eating red vines. She’d offered some to Hunter, but Hunter had simply shaken her head.
Now she was staring out the side window at the scenery, sitting behind Mary who was in the passenger’s seat.
Abigail and I were on the left, behind the driver’s seat and Gabriel, and Emma was in the middle, between us and Hunter.
“How about some music to drown out my granddaughter’s incessant crunching?” Gabriel asked, reaching for the stereo.
Abigail leaned forward and crunched a chip right by his ear.
He jerked away. “You little brat.”
“I love you too Gramps.”
I hoped we would find her parents. They seemed like a happy family.
It made me think of memories I didn’t like to think about.
So I pushed them away, and focused on the hot chick sitting on my lap, munching chips and bouncing excitedly, and before I knew it, I was hard.
Abigail stopped bouncing when she felt this, even momentarily stopped crunching, though the classical music that filled the cabin now hid that fact from anyone else. Then she began crunching again.
I wasn’t sure how she felt about my arousal, but she said nothing.
When she finished her bag of chips—yes she finished the entire bag—she turned to Emma. “Hand me a wet-nap.”
Emma dug through the bag
of goodies and pulled one out, handing it over.
The scent of lemon filled the car as Abigail tore open the little packet and wiped her fingers clean.
She tucked the used wet-nap in the door, and then with her left hand—the side near the door—reached behind her to scratch her back.
Except, she wasn’t scratching her back, I realized after a second as she slipped her hand between us and began rubbing me to life again.
Oh no. I’d only been trying to get my mind off bad memories, I hadn’t actually been hitting on her.
Her head was right by mine, her ear by my lips, and so I whispered, “Abigail,” meaning to tell her to stop.
But then Gabriel slammed on the brakes and she flew forward into the front seat slamming her head into the windshield.
45
“Owwwww,” Abigail moaned from the dashboard. “You’re bad luck,” she told me, and pushed herself away, falling onto the center console between her grandparents, and letting out another yelp.
Her head was bleeding and the car was filled with a white powder from the airbags deploying.
“What happened?” I asked. We were tilted forward, at a twenty or thirty-degree angle, as though the front had sunk down, or the rear had lifted, though I couldn’t tell which just now.
I should never have let myself get distracted. I hadn’t been paying attention. I hadn’t even been looking ahead of us.
“Grandpa?” Abigail was saying now.
I opened my door and tried to climb out, but then my seatbelt pulled me back.
I snapped it free and got out, a cloud of white from the airbags following me.
I saw now that the front of the car had hit a ditch in the road, one which stretched all the way across the road’s width, from shoulder to shoulder.
Not a ditch, a trench. The edges were smooth, indicating it had been purposely put here.
It was maybe four feet deep, and about five across.
If Gabriel had slammed on the brakes any later, we might not have survived the crash.
Surely Abigail wouldn’t have.
As it was, the front of the car was crumpled in, and I had to hop down into the trench to look into the driver-side window to check on Gabriel. My view was partially obstructed by the side-curtain airbag, but I could see he had his hand to his face.