by Dawn, M. K.
“There it is!” Carson yelled.
Britney whipped her head to the right and caught a glimpse of something running behind a house.
“Was it a monster?” Blake screamed.
“No. It looked like a person.” She pressed on the gas, ready to get the hell out of there. “I saw shoes on his feet.”
“Then why are you going so fast?” Carson asked.
Britney took a sharp right. “Because I remembered the way and don’t want to forget.”
Whether or not they believed her, they didn’t say, but by the fear splashed across the twins’ faces, she hadn’t done enough to convince them that she didn’t believe they’d seen a monster.
“So,” Britney said as she turned back onto the main road, “what does everyone want from the store?”
No answer, which scared her more than Molly’s scream. She checked on them in the rearview mirror. “You guys okay?”
“I want to go home.” Molly sniffled. “I’m scared.”
The fear in her voice broke Britney’s heart. “I know there’s a lot of craziness goin’ on right now, but there’s nothin’ to be scared of.”
Carson’s eyes locked with hers for a brief second. “Then why did they cancel school?”
Britney took a shaky breath. She’d expected the question, but finding the right words to explain the situation without scaring them… she had no clue what to say.
Growing up, her mother always told them the truth, even if that truth wasn’t pleasant. She opted for somewhere in between.
“Well, lots of people in town are sick, so to stop them from gettin’ everyone else sick, they closed the schools.”
“Oh.” Carson scrunched his face. “I thought it was because they didn’t want anyone else to get hurt?”
Britney slowed the truck. The line to the gas station wasn’t nearly as long as the med clinic. She took a second to comprehend what Carson had said. “Hurt? Who got hurt?”
Carson shrugged. “I don’t know. A couple of kids in Mr. Sabinal’s class had to go to the nurse.”
“What did they do? Fall on the playground or somethin’?” Britney tried to sound aloof but heard her voice crack just a little.
“Nah. They were on the playground before school and a kindergartener bit them.”
Britney froze. “Bit them? Are you sure?”
Their small school system only had two kindergarten classes. They had placed the twins in the same classroom at Britney’s request. One classroom party, field trip, parent-teacher conference was much easier to attend than two.
The truck behind her laid on the horn. Britney startled and pulled up.
“Why are they honking?” Blake asked.
“Because they’re impatient.” Her gaze flicked back to the kids. “So this kindergartener who bit some kids, was it someone in your class?”
Molly beamed. “Yes! Blake’s friend the meanie Ian who always gets sent to the principal.”
Britney swallowed hard. “Did you play with him that mornin’, Blake? Was he in class … after he bit the other kids?”
“Nope.” Carson grinned. “Our bus was late, remember? I saw them taking him to the office when we got there. He was acting all crazy, pretending to be a wolf or something.”
“A wolf?” Britney’s heart clenched. Blake and Ian were inseparable. If their bus would have been on time yesterday, Blake could have been one of the kids who was bitten.
“Yeah. He kept trying to bite the principal. It was hilarious.”
Molly crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t think it was very funny.”
The line of cars pulled up, putting them in line next for the pump. “Now I see what’s takin’ so long. The card readers aren’t workin’.”
“What does that mean?” Carson asked.
Britney grabbed for her wallet to see how much cash she had. “It means everyone is havin’ to go inside and pay for their gas.” Chances were good if the outside card readers weren’t working, the inside one wasn’t either.
“Good thing I had to go inside anyway.” She pulled a hundred from her wallet. They had farm diesel back home, so she wouldn’t worry about filling up the truck, which meant she had plenty of cash to fill up the gas cans. “Speakin’ of goin’ inside, what does everyone want?”
“Can’t we just go in?” Blake did a little bounce in his seat. “That way we can pick.”
Britney eyed the line of people waiting to pay. Several of them didn’t look well. “No. You guys will stay in the truck.”
“Ugh,” Molly groaned. “That’s boring.”
“It’ll be more borin’ waitin’ in that long line.” And aggravating for Britney. Three kids in a store full of candy and junk food never ended well. “I’ll leave it runnin’ so you can listen to music.”
“I call Taylor Swift!” Molly shouted before the boys had a chance to speak.
“No,” Blake and Carson shouted in unison.
Britney scrolled through her phone’s playlists and connected it to Bluetooth. “This will play a variety of music each of you like. The car in front of me is almost done. Tell me what you want.”
They each rattled off their favorite Icee, candy and chips.
Britney made a quick note on a scrap of paper and parked the truck next to the pump. “Looks like I have to pay first. Carson, climb in the passenger seat and lock the doors after I get out.”
Carson cocked his head. “Lock the doors?”
Living in such a tight-knit community, most people didn’t bother locking doors to their vehicles, especially when they’d only be a few feet away.
“Lock the doors and stay in the truck. There are lots of people around here. Most I’ve never seen before.” She didn’t want to scare them but didn’t want to put them in danger either. “Please listen.”
The kids nodded, and Britney got out of the car. Hearing the familiar click of the lock, she headed inside.
The small convenience store had never been so busy. Most of the shelves lay bare, including the chips the kids asked for. She settled for an assortment of cookies and donuts before pouring each of them an Icee. As she headed toward the line, she passed the small wine section and picked out a cheap bottle of white for herself. After the past few days, a tall chilled glass tonight sounded like heaven.
The line to check out stood fifteen people deep. From the end, Britney could keep an eye on the kids, who appeared content jamming out to whatever song was playing.
“Excuse me?” a soft voice said from behind.
Britney peered over her shoulder to find an elderly woman no more than four feet tall standing in line. “Hi.”
“Oh, never mind, dear.” The woman caught sight of Britney’s full arms. “I needed help getting something off a high shelf, but you don’t seem to have any free hands.”
Britney laughed. “I’m sorry.”
“Honey.” A woman in front of them tapped her husband. She must have been listening. “Why don’t you help the woman? I’ll hold our place.”
The man turned around, his skin pale and gray. “Of course.”
Britney moved out of his way with a forced smile.
“He’s such a wonderful guy, my husband,” the woman gushed.
“Is he feeling okay?”
The woman blinked before answering. “This damn virus. It’s getting the best of everyone.”
“I know what….” Britney trailed off as she glanced back out the window. “What are they doin’?”
The woman moved closer to Britney. “Who?”
“My kids. I think they’re talkin’ to someone.”
“That white truck yours? With the three kids? Yeah, there’s a man on the driver side. And it looks like the window is rolled down.”
Britney’s heart raced. “I told them to stay in the truck with the doors locked.”
“Technically, they seem to be doing both,” the woman said with a chuckle. “Sorry. I’m a teacher, so I know how kids are. I’m sure they’re fine. Probably so
meone they know. I mean, that’s the good thing about small towns, right?”
Britney shuffled to take a better look. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” She let out a heavy breath. It was just Dr. Hildebrand. “Still, it would have been nice if they would have listened.”
“That’s the way kids are. Give them an inch—oh God.”
“What?” The snacks fell from Britney’s arm, smashing to the ground. “He’s takin’ my truck!”
She bolted from the store, chasing after the truck and screaming, “He’s stealin’ my truck! My kids!”
People stopped and gawked, though a couple of men ran after her. With every step she gained significant ground on the vehicle stuck in traffic trying to exit the parking lot.
The kids' screams could be heard even through the window, their tiny fists pounding on the door, begging to be let out.
Every muscle in her legs burned as she gasped for air, but she kept pushing. A few more feet and she’d be there.
Hildebrand slammed on the gas and the truck jerked forward, pushing the smaller truck in front of him out of the way in a matter of seconds.
“No!”
As he pulled out onto the street, a motorcycle swerved in front of her truck. Hildebrand slammed on the brakes.
The man on the motorcycle dropped his bike and threw open the truck door, pulling Hildebrand to the ground. Then the biker peeked inside the truck. “Are you okay?” she heard him ask the kids.
Britney shoved him out of the way and climbed inside, touching each of her sobbing kids’ faces. “It’s okay. I’m here. Mommy’s here.”
“Get out of here,” the biker ordered. “Now!”
Britney turned to thank him and gasped. “Axel?”
“Good timing, right?” His eyes fell to the ground. “You need to go home.”
“But the police—”
“I’ll take care of it.” He slammed the truck door. “Go now. This is just the beginning.”
“Mommy,” Molly sobbed. “I don’t want to wait for the police. I want to go home. I want to go home. He tried to bite Carson.”
Britney threw the truck in gear and sped away, but not before she heard a gunshot and saw Axel standing over Dr. Hildebrand with a gun.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Axel.” The muffled voice broke through the sound of panic ringing in his ears.
He’d shot someone. In the middle of the street. In small-town America. There were families around. Children watching. What the fuck was he thinking?
The gun slipped from his fingers as his entire body shook. His knees buckled as black spots danced before his eyes.
Years of suppressed memories came flooding back. The horrors he’d seen. The lives lost—ones he’d taken and ones he’d watched slip away.
“Axel.” A strong hand seized his arm. “Come on. We have to go.”
“Go?” Axel squeezed his lips closed, forcing the bile back down his throat. “I can’t go. The police. I need to tell the police what happened.”
“You will.” Gus tugged on Axel’s arm. “But not here.”
Axel pulled his arm away. “I can’t leave.”
“That’s not what I’m—”
A low growl cut him off. People screamed.
Axel scanned the area, trying to find the source of the hysteria.
“What the fuck!” Gus yanked Axel backward.
He stared at the ground. Dr. Hildebrand’s limbs twitched, the stream of blood from his forehead now black. “What’s wrong with him?”
It was a stupid question. Axel had killed him. Pulled out his gun and shot him in the head before he could hurt anyone else, though the poor woman Hildebrand had pounced on after Axel threw him from the truck had a large gash across her face.
“He was dead,” Gus whispered. “I watched him take his last breath.”
Axel moved closer and nudged Hildebrand’s foot with his boot. “Maybe it’s just a death spasm?”
“I have a bad feeling about this. We need to get out of here.” Angie seized both their arms. “Come on.”
Hildebrand’s body twitched again and his mouth opened, revealing serrated teeth just like Queenie. The nurse said the patients had died and come back in the form of these monsters, but how the hell did a direct shot to the brain not kill them? What the fuck is going on?
“She’s right. We need to go.” Axel looked at the crowd. “Everyone needs to go!”
“We’re not leaving!” a man in a cowboy hat shouted. “And neither are you! The cops are on their way.”
Hildebrand lifted his nose to the air. Time was up.
Axel snatched his gun from Gus and pointed it at the crowd of people. “Leave! Now! Before it’s too late!”
People screamed and rushed back to their vehicles.
“Jesus, Axel.” Gus mounted his bike. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Axel stuffed his gun in the back of jeans—his damn holster had burned with the hospital—and got on his bike. “Trying to save their lives.”
Before Gus or any of the other bikers could ask what he meant, the answer presented itself.
Hildebrand jumped to his feet, his skin more ashen than black. A growl ripped from his lips, sending terror pulsating through Axel’s veins.
“Go!” Axel sped away. Hildebrand—or whatever the man had become—jerked his head to the sound of engines roaring to life. Vehicles went in every direction, causing the bikes to swerve to avoid being hit.
Axel checked over his shoulder to see where Hildebrand had gone but couldn’t find him, which probably wasn’t a good thing.
They needed to regroup, find a safe place to get their bearings about the situation and make a plan on how to get home. But first he had to go to the police, explain his side of the story. Someone had called them after he’d shot Hildebrand in the head. More than one person. Why they hadn’t shown up yet, he didn’t know, but the last thing he needed was to be caught fleeing the scene and looking as if he’d gone on the run.
He moved to the front of the group and motioned for them to pull over in the empty parking lot across from the police station.
Angie removed her helmet and hung it on her handlebars. “For a second there, I thought you were going to do something stupid like turn yourself in.”
“I am.” Axel averted his eyes. “I killed a guy. Pulled a gun and shot him in the head.”
“He was stealing those kids,” Shifter said. “Attacked a woman. You did what needed to be done.”
“No.” Guilt weighted heavily on his chest. “I could have wrestled him to the ground, held him until the police arrived. Hell, I could have shot him in the leg to keep him from running off. But I didn’t.”
“This is bullshit.” Gunner kicked a stray rock. “That was no man you killed—it was a monster. And I can’t even say you killed him because he got back up off the fucking ground and growled. Growled! Like a damn animal. We need to get as far away from this place as possible. Leave and never look back.”
“You should all go. If this is happening all over the country, you need to be with your families.”
“Axel.” Gus moved to his side. “You know I would never advise you to do something against the law, but this… what’s happening… it’s not normal. And the witnesses, all they’ll be able to tell the police is a tatted-up biker did this.”
“The woman knows me.”
“Woman?” Gus asked. “What woman?”
“The kids’ mom, the truck owner. Her name’s Britney. She’s a local. She’s the one we helped with the booths for the church festival.”
“Shit,” Gunner grumbled. “So she can identify you?”
He didn’t care if she could or not—either way, he was turning himself in—but if it helped them accept his decision…. “Yes. She said my name when I removed the doctor from the truck.” He held up his hand before anyone else could argue. “I know none of you agree, but who would I be if I walked away? He has a family that will want to know what happened to him. Plus, he was a rea
lly nice guy.”
“You’ve met him before?” Rainey asked.
“In the hospital. He was a doctor and his father a patient in Queenie’s room. What happened to him… it happened because he gave his life trying to save people. It’s not his fault.”
“It’s not your fault either.” Gus patted him on the shoulder. “But if this is what you feel is right, know you have my full support.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“Thank you.” Their understanding made him feel a little better.
“But remember, you were trying to—no, you did save lives. You shouldn’t be punished for that,” Gus said.
Axel mounted his bike and started the engine. “I’ll call when I can. Head home. Be with your families.”
He didn’t wait for a response before speeding off across the street and parking in front of the police station. With a quick wave goodbye, he went inside, ready to get this over with.
A plump receptionist glared when he entered, purse on her shoulder and a sour look on her face. “What do you need?”
Axel started through the glass door leading toward the back, surprised the place wasn’t busier. “I need to speak with an officer.”
“Why?” the receptionist—Betty, according to her nameplate—snapped.
“Um. I want to report a crime.”
Betty planted a hand on her full hips. “Have you been outside? This entire town has turned into one big crime scene.”
“A murder.” Axel cleared his throat. “I need to speak to someone about a murder.”
Betty took a step back. “And who did the murdering?”
“I did.” Then he quickly added, “Self-defense. A man tried to drive off with a stolen truck. The woman’s three kids were still in the back.”
Betty smacked on her gum. “Sheriff’s in the back. The other three officers who work here have been called out, so the sheriff’s in no sort of mood for games. Phones have been ringing off the hook. Now I’m having to leave because my mama’s sick.”
“I understand.”
Betty removed her jacket from the back of her office chair and slung it over her arm. “What kind of man turns himself in for committing a murder when the world is ending?”
