LAURIE AND her dad entered Glenwald early the next morning. The town remained quiet, but now there was a smell that reminded Laurie of when a deer had died in one of their fields. A lot of deer.
They encountered the two dead girls and three fairy bodies in front of the grocery store. Her father stooped on one knee beside the dead fairies, making a gravelly clearing throat sound as he lifted one of their wings and examined their clawed hands.
"Fairies, huh," he said. "Look more like demons to me."
Laurie removed her hand from her mouth and nose. "Do you recognize the girls?"
"I'm not sure, but I think these are the daughters of Mary Hanson. She has five children. She's a nurse – your mom knows her. Her kids have some kind of health issues, if I remember right, and she has some unusual if not eccentric health beliefs. Single mom – lost her husband to cancer two or three years ago." Dan stared at the bloody cement between them for a moment, as if in silent prayer. "I believe I know where they live."
He stood up. They continued down the sidewalk. Laurie wouldn't say her dad was nervous, but she noticed his eyes flicking around and his occasional backward glances and the tapping of his finger above the trigger of his Bushmaster 308. Laurie gripped the stock of her Colt AR-15, reminding herself that they were both heavily armed and that her dad was an experienced hunter along with being an ex-Ranger.
Laurie cast an eye at the hospital as they passed, hoping her dad wouldn't want to go inside, but other than a grim glance at it he made no motion to halt their march to the nearby beach.
The huge cylinder had remained where it was, sunk a foot or two into the soft sand. With her dad at her side, Laurie was brave enough to poke around and peer inside the chambers away from the entrance. Her dad did the same, pausing at a series of geometric images on the wall.
"Interesting symbols," Dan said.
"Or words?"
"These look like shelters." He nodded to nine-foot high cubicles on another wall. "Judging from the size and depth of these footprints, some of these creatures in here were extremely large."
"And some not so much." Laurie pointed out a cluster of small, four-toed depressions that fanned across the floor. The fairy-creatures?
Outside, Dan rapped the container with his knuckles.
"Doesn't feel like steel. I'd be interested in trying a torch or drill on it."
They stayed on the beach, paralleling the road leading out of town. Fifty or sixty yards ahead, a string of rocks and small boulders branched out from the shore. Years ago, some council members had decided the rocks would be a nice touch, suggesting an ocean shore or something, Laurie vaguely remembered. It and a few similar spots around the lake were popular places for people to hang out.
But now something else was hanging out on the rocks. At first, Laurie thought they were birds, and then squirrels, and then...gophers? As she and her father approached they straightened up en masse – fifty or more of them, she guessed, now looking more like barn owls with their rounded heads.
"Hold on," said her father quietly.
He raised his rifle and peered through its scope.
"Jesus," he whispered.
"What? Alien creatures?"
"I'd say so. I sure as hell never saw anything like them before."
"Do you think they're...dangerous?'
"I'm going to guess yes. I think I'm seeing sharp teeth in their mouths. They're watching us like predators."
"Should we shoot them?"
"Let's just move up the hill."
He pivoted sharply, tugging Laurie with him up the grassy embankment. The gopher-creatures dropped down from the rocks and swarmed like lemmings across the sand toward them.
"Run," said Dan. "The car!"
He jerked the barrel of his rifle toward an SUV across the street fifty or sixty yards away. Laurie wasn't sure why her dad had chosen to run, but about halfway up the hill, it was obvious the creatures, which looked more prairie dog than gopher size, were too damn fast and would overtake them well before they reached the SUV.
"Not going to make it," her father rasped. "Take a stand."
Laurie followed her dad's example in dropping down to his chest.
"Stay calm," her dad counseled quietly. "Get ready to jump up if we don't stop them."
They opened fire, and when the mass parted like the Red Sea, Laurie understood why her dad had chosen the prone position: the bullets, especially his .308 rounds, were passing through multiple bodies, shredding the creatures' ranks as if spears or ax blades were driving into them.
The presumed killer gophers broke off their attack twenty feet from them, fleeing in several lines back toward the beach. Dan rose, his relieved exhalation resonating in Laurie as he helped her to her feet.
"I wasn't sure they'd grasp what was happening to them," he said. "I wonder if any of these things has been exposed to gunfire before."
"The winged-wolf shied away when I pointed my AR at him."
Her dad nodded. "Let's hope they all learn to be gun-shy."
The "dead deer" smell returned in earnest as they encountered the first row of lakeside homes. Laurie and her dad took turns calling out "Anyone home?" Except for the odor, it could've been any mid-May weekend in the neighborhood: most cars parked neatly in driveways or on the curb, a few garages open, bicycles or toys in the yard.
They didn't run into any bodies until they rounded a corner into the second row of homes. A tragic threesome: an elderly woman sprawled on the driveway, flanked by a teenage boy and a younger woman.
"I know him from school," Laurie breathed out. "Tommy Williams."
"Sally and her mother, Gertrude. Saw them in church most Sundays." Dan bowed his head as if pondering what to say. "I'd say they tried to carry Gertrude down to the car and never made it."
Laurie turned away, gazing up the street. A slim, light-haired figure appeared to be watching them from a roof near the end of the cul-de-sac. It straightened up with a bird-like tweet. Another similar figure sprang up beside her, dragonfly wings buzzing. Together, they bounded across twenty or thirty feet to the next roof, wings emitting a hornet-like buzz, their eyes riveted to Laurie and her father.
"Uh, Dad." She pointed.
Dan roused himself, lifting his head. He raised his rifle, staring through its scope.
"Your fairy creatures?" he said softly.
"Not mine. But yes."
Her dad detached his scope and slipped it into his hunting jacket side-pocket. "Let them show their intentions. Any aggression, shoot to kill."
"Okay."
The two fairy-creatures leaped from house to house, not quite flying but obviously assisted by their buzzing transparent wings. They paused on the garage over the Williams' driveway, checking them out with cocking heads and soft twittering noises.
A final hop deposited the elfin creatures on the driveway less than twenty feet from them. Laurie and her father shouldered their rifles. The two creatures moved off the driveway to the grass on either side of them. Dan and his daughter swiveled to keep them in sight, their backs to each other. A slim, bright red organ slipped out from sheathes in their groin area and stood rigid.
"What the f –" Dan cut himself off with a glance back at his daughter.
"Do they want to breed with us?"
"No idea." Her dad's voice emerged in a disgusted growl. "I've seen enough. Kill them."
Laurie dutifully placed her sights on the nearest elfin creature's chest. Were they going to kill them for being sexual? That didn't seem right. But their penises, if that's what they were, didn't seem right, either. Not that she'd seen many of them, but their tips looked like sharp spears.
Her dad fired first. The fairy facing Laurie leaped for her. She fired blindly and the thing was on her, rooster-shaped claws digging into her wrists, its gaping jaws rising for her face. She shoved the gun stock into its throat, holding it off. A sharp prick on her right thigh made her leg and most of her right side instantly numb.
The butt of a rifle f
lashed past over her shoulder and smacked flush into the fairy's forehead. The thing dropped off her, and Laurie staggered sideways on one good leg. Her dad stepped forward with an angry grunt and shot the fairy point-blank in the head as it lay stunned on the driveway. He caught Laurie as she continued to stumble.
"It got me," she said. "It's a stinger."
Dan followed her eyes to the crimson spot on her upper right thigh. He glanced from her wound to the creature's still turgid member, now christened with bright blood.
"How do you feel, baby?"
"Not too bad. Just numb on one side." Laurie wondered if she was going to die. "I'm sorry, Dad. I hesitated."
"Yeah, well. Guess I neglected my parenting skills, not raising you to be a stone-cold killer." He choked out a half-laugh. "But seriously, I'm hoping you learned your lesson.
"I think I got it."
"Good. So how are you feeling?" His eyes probed hers.
"I don't think I'm going to die, Dad."
"You're damn well right you're not."
Laurie clung to him. His arm around her waist felt like a lifebuoy.
The Hansons' home was at the end of the cul-de-sac. In its front yard, near the door, they found a third member of the Hanson family – a young boy – in an even more devoured state than her brother and sister in front of the grocery store. The only way Laurie knew it was a boy was the short dark hair on what was left of his scalp. His face, arms, legs and most of his torso were missing. A single-shot shotgun lay a few feet away.
Dan picked up the shotgun, ejecting a spent shell from its chamber. "I wonder if he hit anything."
They walked around the body to the front door. Dan tried the doorknob.
"Locked." Her dad hammered on the door, lifting his voice. "Hello? This is Dan Jensen and his daughter."
Laurie thought she heard something – a scrabbling on the floor, like dragging feet.
"It's okay," he said. "It's Dan Jensen. I know your mom, Mary."
"Are they gone?" a small voice asked from behind the door. "I heard shots."
"That was us. We killed them."
A deadbolt clinked and the doorknob rattled. A pale-faced girl about Laurie's age peered out through a crack.
"You're sure?" she whispered.
"Don't worry. If others show up, we'll kill them, too."
She opened the door wider, backing away as they entered. Laurie shut the door behind them. The girl flicked strands of hair from her face, her light blue eyes saucer-shaped in her slim face.
"I heard the shots," she said. "We tried to shoot them, too. They were too fast." Her lips quivered, tears suddenly shining in her eyes. "I couldn't save my brother."
"You have two sisters, too, don't you?" Dan's words sounded heavy to Laurie, as if each held an individual and oppressive gravity. "Two blond girls?"
"Yes!" Her face lit up for an instant before she noted Dan's expression. "Oh God, did you see them? They were on their bikes." She peered up into Dan's eyes, starting to shake her head. "No...no..."
"I'm sorry," said Dan.
Laurie held out her arms. She hadn't planned to, but her heart was melting as she saw the despair on the girl's face. She'd lost so much.
The girl looked puzzled for a moment, as if hugging a stranger wasn't a common experience for her, but then she edged forward into Laurie's arms. Dan patted her shoulder. She began to sob. Laurie could think of nothing better than to hold her.
"I'm sorry for your loss," said Dan.
"This whole town is lost," the girl whispered. "Everything's lost. I mean, besides us."
"There may be other survivors." Dan looked around the living room. "Your mom?"
The girl shook her head, stepping back out of Laurie's arms, wiping her eyes. "She's...in her bedroom. She was the first to get sick. We got sick, too, but it didn't seem to affect us much. Except my brother. He's been in bed since it happened."
"Were you and your brothers and sisters on any special medication?" Dan asked.
"We're all on allergy and asthma prescriptions. My brother is on Adderall, too."
"Is your brother okay?" Laurie asked her.
"I...I'm not sure. It's like he's in a coma or something. Just lies there in bed. He has a fever...his temperature's so high his skin is red." Her mouth trembled again. "Gary and me...we're all that's left."
"What's your name?" Dan asked. "I'm Dan and this is my daughter, Laurie. Maybe you know each other from school?"
"Cindy. No, I've never met her. We home school."
"Okay." Dan took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I'd like to take you and your brother with us back to our farm, Cindy. Are you up for walking a few miles?"
"I am, but not my brother."
"We'll figure out something." Dan brushed back his short mop of brown hair. "We can get a gurney from the hospital and wheel him down the road."
"With those things out there?"
"I don't see much choice, Cindy."
The girl nodded glumly. "Do you know how this happened?"
"All we know is that someone put something in the air that killed most of us in this area and then dropped these animals on us."
"Why would anyone do that?"
"We don't know, Cindy. And for now, it doesn't really matter. Right now we just need to take care of ourselves."
The girl was nodding – making herself nod, Laurie thought. She noticed Laurie leaning on the back of a couch, and the circle of dried blood on her right leg.
"Did one of them sting you?" she asked.
"Yes. I feel a little numb, but seem to be okay."
"That's how they attacked my brother outside. They grabbed him and it was like they were trying to mate...but they were stabbing him..." Cindy massaged her throat, tears leaking from her eyes. "He just went limp."
"It's some kind of poison," said Laurie. "It makes you numb, like your body's asleep. I don't know if it would kill you by itself."
"Just hang tight, Cindy," said her father. "Keep the door locked and stay inside, away from the windows. We'll be back in an hour or less with something to carry your brother."
The hike back to town went without incident. The predatory gophers had made themselves scarce, along with the other alien species. The only possible exotic creatures they spotted was a flock of suspiciously large black birds blanketing the sky like a thundercloud miles away. Dan eyed them through his scope for several seconds before lowering it with a shake of his head.
"I don't know," he said. "They're too far away to be sure, but their bodies seem too square to be crows or blackbirds."
When they approached the hospital, the smell had grown far worse than Laurie remembered from the day before. Dan opened the entrance door and jerked one arm to his face, coughing into his sleeve.
"Okay," he said, backing off, letting the door close. "Let's try the emergency entrance around back. Maybe there's an ambulance sitting in the parking lot we can steal a gurney from."
They walked around the hospital, the odor mercifully abating. No ambulances in the parking lot, but the emergency room door was open, and they wound their way in through the office and treatment rooms to the garage and a pair of ambulances. They opened the back doors of the nearest one and slid out a gurney stretcher.
Rolling it back through the office they nearly ran into a naked young woman standing by the doorway. She stood so motionless, arms hanging limply at her sides, that for a moment Laurie thought she was a mannequin. Then a muscle under her right eye twitched and she blinked.
"Ah, hello..." Dan eased the gurney to one side. "Are you okay?"
The woman stared at him with intense concentration, as if his question was extraordinarily difficult and deserved the most serious reflection. Or the question just made no sense to her, Laurie thought. She had dark fuzz on her head...and elsewhere. Her skin appeared freshly polished, like a newborn's. She gave off a slightly unpleasant, meat locker smell.
And the more Laurie stared at her pretty, puzzled face, the more familiar she looke
d.
"Can you speak?" her dad asked. "Can you tell us who you are?"
The woman's throat muscles contracted, quivering. "Miii..."
Dan and his daughter silently urged her on.
"Thhhh..."
"Myth?" Laurie shot her dad a disbelieving look.
The woman moved her head. Not quite a nod, but Laurie thought she saw assent in her big, unblinking grey-green eyes.
"Well, Myth," said Dan, "why don't you put on some clothes, whoever you are." The woman regarded him blankly. He tugged at his jacket. "Clothes?"
The Marjorie clone fanned her hands over her breasts and down her body. "Clothes...?"
"Laurie, would you help her find some clothes and get dressed?"
What followed were some of the most awkward moments in Laurie's young life. And that said something, she thought, considering what had happened in the last couple of days. Rather than strip clothing off a corpse, she managed to locate a closet with nurse uniforms. Laurie had to mentally hold her nose while she helped the mystery woman into white pants and blouse. It was like dressing a child. A child who smelled like she'd been sprayed with fish guts.
"Can you understand what I'm saying?" Laurie said.
"Some words, yes."
"Do you know who we are? What's happening?"
"Yes. But need words."
"My name's Laurie. Is your name actually Myth?"
"Your word. But fits."
"How?"
"I...tell stories."
"Really? What kind of stories?"
"Stories of what can be."
Laurie had just finished buttoning her blouse when the young woman swooned, falling sideways on the bed that had been their changing platform. When Laurie asked her "What's wrong," she pointed weakly to her mouth.
"Food?"
"Yes. Food need."
Laurie ran out to the hallway to the vending machine. She thought of shooting out the lock, but her ears were still ringing from shooting the fairy creatures. She settled by swinging a metal chair into the display. On the third swing, a section of plastic cracked apart over the mixed nuts, and she was able to pry out two bags.
Myth downed both greedily and made a drinking motion. Laurie brought her bottled water from the nurses' station by the vending machine. After draining the bottle, the woman clambered off the bed, staggering a few feet before yanking down her pants and squatting on the floor. Laurie turned away as the woman relieved herself with machine gun bursts of flatulence and bowels that groaned like grinding tectonic plates.
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