The Gristle & Bone Series (Book 1): The Flayed & The Dying

by Roach, Aaron

  Don was hesitant to move. He didn’t want to leave his hiding spot in case those things were waiting for him just around the corner, out of sight. Still, he had been in that closet for the better part of a day and a quick glance towards the window showed that the sun was falling. It would be night soon, he didn’t have any food or water, and Delilah’s corpse was beginning to lose his interest. He made up his mind.

  Don crawled back to Delilah’s body and yanked off her shoes before making his way back to the door and tossing them out into the empty space of the hall. He watched them land near a corner.

  Nothing lunged from around the bend, no movement, no screeching. Nothing.

  Okay, time to get out of here.

  Don gave Delilah’s tit a quick squeeze goodbye, pulled the door the rest of the way open, and stepped out, only to come up short as a blood eagle towered over him.

  It stood upright, peering down at him with sightless eyes. Its mouth clicked open and the slits where its nose should have been blinked. Bloody saliva and snot oozed from the orifices in its face.

  Don’s petrified gaze took the creature in. He recognized it as the first blood eagle, the one that had killed Jenn. He glanced down at its body where, interspersed between the dangling shreds of skin, were the tattered remains of its clothes. They were a dark blue, almost black, like a security guard’s uniform.

  Burome.

  Don stood frozen, certain he was about to die. He remembered their conversation from earlier that morning, when Burome had told him to radio him when his daughter arrived at the museum. He never did.

  “Burome, I…” Don started to say.

  The once-Burome snapped its head in close at the sound of his voice, sniffing at his neck. Then, to Don’s horror, it rolled out its tongue and scraped it across his throat. It was rough, like the skin of an unopened pinecone, and it drew blood like a scraped knee. He tensed, waiting for the killing bite, but it didn’t come.

  Instead, the once-Burome recoiled as if the taste of Don had disgusted him. It hocked and spat, spraying saliva onto Don’s chest before it turned its back on him, shunning his presence. The monster took a few steps away before bending its massive legs and launching itself like a spring up to the second floor where it disappeared from view.

  For a long moment Don stood frozen there; while fear, shock and relief prevented him from taking a breath. Finally, he inhaled sharply, filling his lungs.

  What the hell was that? What the hell just happened?

  Don shook his head, unable to come up with an answer, and made his way to the museum exit. Before stepping out, he glanced back up to make sure his old co-worker hadn’t changed its mind about letting him live.

  He was nowhere in to be seen.

  Satisfied he wasn’t being followed, Don stepped out into a world of noise, fire, and demons. His first instinct was to turn around, retreat into the museum, and live out the rest of his life in the little custodial closet; but the thought of Burome, or whatever that thing was now, prowling the upper stories of the museum like a fairytale villain nixed the nascent plan as soon as he thought of it.

  Don surveyed his surroundings from the museum steps. In the waning sunlight, the city was aglow in orange, and everywhere he looked blood eagles set upon their screaming prey like hawks on mice. They climbed over railings, leapt off building facades, and hurdled over cars to get to Bostonians who were either running or attempting to fight back.

  Two blocks to Don’s right, a detachment of uniformed patrolmen had set up a barricade of cars across the road. They were funneling civilians through a narrow gap between the parked vehicles into an apartment building. A few stories above, defenders fired weapons from open windows at the skeleton-monsters pursuing those down on the streets. Every now and then, a lucky shot would slam through the skull of one of the creatures, sending it crashing to the ground, but most brushed off the impacting bullets with snarls and simply continued their frenzied attack.

  The defenders’ desperation was obvious, and Don knew immediately he wanted no part in it. He was a survivor and those people were not going to survive for very long.

  To his left, down on the street, he saw a mother and daughter pair standing next to a car. The mother fumbled in her purse, frantically looking for car keys while the daughter took in the battle between the monsters and police.

  Neither saw Don until it was too late.

  “Give me that,” he growled as he came up to them. He put his hand on the mother’s face and shoved her to the ground hard. As she fell, he tore the purse from her grip.

  “Momma!” the girl cried out. To Don’s surprise, the child came after him, swinging her balled fists wildly. He backhanded her across the face and sent her sprawling to the ground, where she started crying loudly. The woman screamed a curse at him and moved to stand up, but he shoved her roughly back down with his foot. Unable to move, she started calling for help.

  “Shut up, bitch!” Don hissed, but it was too late. A pack of blood eagles broke away from their attack on the police barricade and began sprinting towards them at a full gallop.

  “Fuck, now look what you’ve done!” Don shouted angrily. He dumped the contents of the purse onto the ground, and dropped to his knees, searching. “Why the fuck do you have so much shit in your bag!” he shouted angrily, before he felt the woman’s foot connect with his mouth hard enough to snap his head back. Another kick, this time in his belly, collapsed him on to his side and he folded into himself in pain. He lay there tasting blood on his lips when he heard a short, sharp gasp.

  Don opened his eyes to see that the blood eagles had arrived.

  Two had hit the woman at the same time, running her through with spiked arms and pinning her body against the car like a butterfly in an entomology display. Another had already torn a cheek out of the little girl’s face. She screamed as it began devouring her.

  While the mother and daughter were being eaten, Don remained in the fetal position, too afraid to move. Soon though, the creatures turned their interest towards him, sniffing and prodding like hunting dogs. He tried to be as still as possible, but he couldn’t stop his body from trembling in fear. One of the monsters grunted, blowing hot air into his ear. But it didn’t attack. Another sniffed at his mouth and the blood that oozed there, and it recoiled in disgust. Its reaction was enough for the others to lose interest. Almost as one, they turned and scampered away.

  Don eased himself up into a sitting position with a grunt of pain, and he watched in relief as the blood eagles headed back towards the battle with the police. It was quieter over there now, with less screaming, less gunfire, and more bodies.

  And then Don had a revelation.

  Boston had had a shit day. Half the city was on fire and everyone was either dead or dying.

  But not me.

  Don had survived. On top of that, his bitch of a boss was dead, he’d had his way with Delilah, and the monsters that were slaughtering everyone else didn’t seem too interested in him. In fact, they almost seemed repelled by him.

  Today, of all days, Don had finally come out on top.

  With a smile, he reached down and grabbed up the elusive keys before opening the car door and starting up the engine. As he drove away, he glanced up to peer through the rearview mirror where the forms of the woman and the little girl shakily rose to their feet. They turned their dead eyes towards the departing vehicle and raised their arms, reaching and stumbling after him.

  Don laughed.

  I think I’m going to like living in this new world.

  -17-

  [Click]

  Thaniel: Okay, we’re recording. Do you mind saying again who you are?

  Dr. Neyra: My name is Dr. Emilio Neyra, and I am the head of research at Project Stonemen, a top-secret Federation weapons development facility in northern Canada.

  Thaniel: Uh huh. And can you say again why you are calling? For the record?

  Dr. Neyra: Mr. Briends, I am calling to warn you about the next great extinction e
vent. The apocalypse of man, as I would call it. When it comes, it will come like desert showers that bring new life to bloom in its wake.

  Thaniel: You say, ‘great extinction’ and ‘new life’ in the same breath…

  Dr. Neyra: You know the old adage, out with the old, in with the new.

  Thaniel: And what exactly is supposed to cause this extinction event?

  Dr. Neyra: As I said, I am the head of research on a weapons project. I mean to unleash that weapon.

  Thaniel: Right. Sounds scary. And what exactly can the ‘apocalypse of man’ expect out of this weapon?

  Dr. Neyra: [chuckling] Mr. Briends, I appreciate your lighthearted skepticism on such a serious matter. But I want you to know that whether you believe me or not is inconsequential. This is only a courtesy call. What will be, will be.

  Thaniel: [A long pause] Okay. Let’s say for a moment you do have such a weapon, why would you want to use it?

  Dr. Neyra: My father lived about four blocks away from where you work, Mr. Briends. Did you know that? He moved to the city while I was completing my schooling at MIT, to be close to me, you see.

  I was all he had after my mother died. He found a job, paid his rent, and was happy. After I finished my PhD my research brought me overseas, but my father…he never left. He stayed behind, saying that living in the city was the most alive he’d felt in years.

  His name was Ignacio Alexandre Neyra and he was murdered by tweakers at the shop where he worked. Drug addicts looking to steal money to buy their next fix, a robbery gone badly, you understand? It was a completely random crime; a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he was there, and they were there, and he died alone because I was not.

  Instead, I was here, completing my research. I could not even attend his funeral, you see…so strict are my travel restrictions. And so, I was not present for that either.

  Can you imagine that, Mr. Briends? To have sacrificed so much for your work? To keep trudging forward despite the sorrow and anger. It all had to be for something, yes?

  I thought so too, until yesterday, when I received a phone call from Command. They informed me my project was being shut down, my work destroyed. Everything I’ve dedicated myself to. Just…gone.

  Thaniel: Command? What do they have to do with this?

  Dr. Neyra: As I said, Project Stonemen is a Federation weapons project, Mr. Briends. Command controls all military functions of the Federation, does it not? Command found me, invested in my research, funded my work. They are the ones behind this project.

  Thaniel: You’re telling me that Command employed you to create a doomsday device?

  Dr. Neyra: They employed me to create a weapon that would put an end to the Frontier Rebellion once and for all. But yes, I guess you can call it a doomsday device.

  Thaniel: And now you are going to use that device to end the world? Because you are a disgruntled employee and your dad died? Bad things happen to people all the time, Doc. No one’s ever tried to destroy the world before.

  Dr. Neyra: No one’s ever had the power to do so before, Mr. Briends. And no, though they are the catalysts, it’s not just my father’s death or Command’s abandonment of my work that has led me down this path. I’ve thought on this for a while now; maybe even before I began my field of study, I was thinking about it. Who knows, perhaps, deep down, I always knew it would lead me here.

  The war out west has been raging on for more than a decade now, Mr. Briends. And in that time, we have destroyed much. We are scum, parasites upon this planet. You, me, the Frontier and the Federation – even my father and the tweakers. All of us. The course of action I’ve set myself upon will free the earth of our presence, our war and petty conflicts, and return the world to a more natural, healthy state.

  Thaniel: So, what are we talking about…a nuke or something?

  Dr. Neyra: [Chuckles] No. What I have developed here…It will be worse than a thousand nuclear bombs.

  Thaniel: Very cryptic, Dr. Neyra, and unhelpful…You called me, remember?

  Dr. Neyra: [Laughter now] I like you, Mr. Briends. You have fire in your spirit. Perhaps you will do well in the times to come. Alas, I wish I could tell you what will happen, but it is difficult to explain…You will have to wait. Do not worry, though. It will only be a few days and then you will see. Everyone will see.

  Thaniel: See what, Dr. Neyra?

  Dr. Neyra: No more questions, Mr. Briends. As I said, this was only a courtesy call. I’m surprised I’ve told you this much.

  Thaniel: Wait…why call me?

  Dr. Neyra: You are a journalist, are you not? Do what journalists do; write about it, tell somebody. Or, if you wish, do nothing, I don’t care. This information is yours to do with whatever you wish.

  [Click.]

  Thaniel: Hello? Dr. Neyra?

  Silence.

  Thaniel and his colleagues stared down at the tape recorder, yearning for more details. But it just sat there, saying nothing further.

  “That’s it,” said Thaniel, interrupting the quiet. “That call was three nights ago, and I haven’t heard from him since.”

  “So, you think that’s what is happening here? That this…this Neyra guy’s weapon is real?” asked Jason.

  Thaniel could only shrug his shoulders. He had no answers beyond what the recording had already told them. “He did say we would know in a few days, and that certainly looks apocalyptic to me.” He pointed out the window and the devastation beyond, eerily aglow in the waning sunlight.

  “So why didn’t you pursue the story, Thaniel?” Eric asked curiously.

  “I did, for a little bit at least. I made a few phone calls and found that an Emilio Neyra did attend MIT, as a researcher for ancient earth pathogens. It was enough to pique my interest when I found they had no records of his work, but when I brought the story to…” Thaniel shrugged and nodded over at Chris sulking and rubbing his swollen jaw on the far side of the room. “I was told I was wasting my time,” he finished.

  “Okay, so what do we do now? We should make a plan,” said Kim, determined. “We have a responsibility to get this information out to the public.”

  Eric picked up the phone and pulled the receiver to his ear, then lowered it. “Still busy,” he said, dejectedly.

  “There’s nothing we can do, at least not right now, not while we’re stuck in this building with those…things. We need to survive this first. Then, once we are out of here, we get this tape to the authorities. Maybe they can find a way to undo all this mess,” Thaniel replied, trying to sound hopeful.

  Chris scoffed from across the room. Since coming to, he had done his best to avoid the group. Now he spoke up. “Look at all that craziness out there,” he said, pointing to the window. Even from this high up, they could still hear the muted screams of those down below, and the sirens that wailed across the city. Chris continued, “Do you really think there’s a way to ‘undo’ any of that? Ha!” He barked the laugh loud enough to set the monsters on the ninth floor into a frenzy, and the group fell into a hushed silence as screeching and pounding came through the ceiling.

  Jason marched right up to Chris, grabbed him by the collar, and mumbled lowly. “Keep your voice down! If any of those things try to get in here again, I’ll be the one punching you in the face next time!”

  Chris glared at the man, who was bigger than Thaniel, and bit back whatever retort he might have had in mind.

  Thaniel picked up the conversation again. “We need to keep calm – and quiet, and hope that rescue is on its way. We don’t know if whatever is happening is isolated to Boston, or if other places have been hit as well. If it’s the latter, then we might be here for a while until rescue comes. We need to prepare for a long stay,” he finished.

  None of them relished the idea, but they all seemed to acquiesce to the sensibility of Thaniel’s plan. Besides, no one wanted to try another escape through the stairwell.

  “Okay” said Kim. “At least we have a plan now. If we are going to be h
ere for a while, we need food and water.”

  “I’ll check the fridge and the vending machines,” Eric replied, already heading towards the office kitchen.

  “I’ll find some containers and fill them with water from the taps in the restrooms,” added Jason.

  “Great. And I’ll check the desks. Maybe we might find something useful,” Thaniel replied.

  While the others set off to their various tasks, Chris stood up and made his way back into his office, quietly closing the door behind him. He opened his briefcase and pulled out his car keys and the small can of pepper spray that he kept clipped to them. He dropped them into his pocket, hearing them clink, before going back out to the others.

  -18-

  Kat was impressed the little girl was keeping up with her so well. Since leaving the park, she had stuck close to Kat as the two of them moved quickly, hiding behind cars and cutting through alleyways to get back to her place.

  Coming up to an intersection, the pair slowed. Kat poked her head around the corner of the building and cursed at what she saw.

  Several dozens of the creatures occupied the street and surrounding buildings; they were perched on cars, windows and scaffolding, like a murder of crows standing sentinel over a day-old battlefield. Their carrion was scattered across the asphalt, corpses upon corpses pockmarked by brutal stab wounds and bite marks.

  Kat swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. Her apartment was one block down and around the corner. The sun was setting and finding another way around would take too long.

  No, they had to cross there, and soon.

  Kat took in the scene again. The creatures might have been asleep for all she knew, but as they had no eyes, it was difficult to tell. They neither stood nor sat but squatted low on their haunches like lions waiting to pounce.

  While she observed them, weighing her chances for a mad dash across the street, a shout for help, followed by a screech, erupted from one of the windows above. The monsters stirred. Several shot upright, standing on their perches, while others remained squatting low; but all turned their blind gazes up towards the sound. They remained like that for several seconds, waiting for something that never came, before settling back into what Kat hoped was dozing.