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

by Roach, Aaron

  Thaniel felt bad for the man. The two played together on a softball team in the summers and he’d often had dinner with Jason and his family after a winning game. He hoped they were safe.

  “What about Chris?”

  “Probably still in his office, sulking. He’s lost too much face at this point to say anything else. I wouldn’t worry about him.”

  “And you?”

  She smiled at his concern. “You know me, Thaniel, I’ll hold up fine enough. My son’s out on a ship somewhere and my daughter is backpacking in Europe. I’ve only a hope those things got to my ex, the bastard.”

  Thaniel chortled. The older woman’s spirit was infectious.

  A low rumbling rolled into their conversation, quieting it. They turned at the noise to look out to the horizon, where orange and blue strips of sky were freckled with black dots. As the dots grew closer, Thaniel recognized them as helicopters, hundreds gathering like stars that winked at them when they caught the growing light.

  “They’re coming,” he muttered in disbelief, but Kim was already moving to alert the others.

  Thaniel watched the helicopters fly in from all directions, little arks sent from heaven to bear them away from the flood of death below. There were news choppers from channels both local and distant, military aircraft, air ambulances, personal rotorcraft, and even a few flying relics that must have been pulled from museum collections. It was as if all the helicopter pilots on the eastern seaboard had banded together to take to the skies and rescue the city.

  Thaniel’s heart leapt at the sight.

  The copters gradually approached and hovered above nearby buildings and skyscrapers, tossing down ladders and ropes and rescuing those lucky souls who had made it to rooftop sanctuaries across the city. As they were lifted away, Thaniel was reminded of bees laden with cargoes of pollen. Those aircraft that bore away survivors were immediately replaced by others, while more still would hang in the air over empty buildings for several minutes before moving on to the next in its search of survivors.

  Thaniel heard his colleagues gathering behind him, “We have to get upstairs to the roof, now!”

  It took them maybe a dozen heartbeats to gather their meager belongings. Thaniel grabbed up his backpack and tossed his tape recorder in with his stuff. As they were readying to leave, Jason asked if any of them had decided to bring pictures of their relatives.

  “What?” replied Thaniel, taken aback by the question.

  “I doubt those rescue choppers are going to provide a taxi service to our homes. These ones I keep on my desk,” Jason said, holding out a few photos – two small portraits of his kids, probably taken for their yearbook, and a third photo showing Jason and his wife on a grassy field. Her head was tilted back onto his shoulder. “You know, in case I don’t see them for a while,” he added, sorrowfully.

  Kim nodded. It was a good idea. She, Eric, and Chris quickly broke away and headed to their desks. Thaniel’s own workspace displayed no such photos, so he hung back and couldn’t help but think that maybe it was a good thing he didn’t have any family to go home to. They were about to go back out into the stairs, to the place where Brienna had died and where those skeleton creatures might still be waiting. He didn’t want to think about kids or a wife while dealing with that horror show. He didn’t have the nerves for that.

  On their return, Kim was carrying graduation photos of her kids; Eric, a picture of his newborn; and Chris had one of himself and his wife at a fancy dinner.

  It took the group a few minutes to disassemble the wall of desks that barred the door to the stairwell, their efforts slowed by their attempt to do so silently. Thaniel noticed Chris did his part with no complaining, though he had said very little since their altercation the day before.

  With the desks cleared, they stared at the face of the door as if it were a cranked jack-in-the-box, and they held up makeshift weapons to swing at whatever might come bursting through from the other side. In his own hands, Thaniel carried the elongated, handled blade he’d unscrewed from the office paper-trimmer. He held it up like a machete.

  The door stared back at them.

  “Are we ready?” asked Thaniel, breaking the quiet.

  One by one, they nodded, with even Chris seeming to defer to him.

  Thaniel pushed the door open slowly, careful to keep his eyes on the growing space beyond until – nothing.

  The stairwell was filled with the dull light of humming fluorescent bulbs, and a dark red stain of a handprint dragged itself across a wall. But other than that, it was empty and unthreatening.

  “Okay, follow me,” whispered Thaniel, trying to sound braver than he felt. He stepped into the stairwell and began climbing the stairs into no-man’s land.

  He looked back over his shoulder at his colleagues as they rounded the corner to the next level. They were lined up behind him in single file and looking at him expectantly. He had no idea how he had become their de facto leader, but he hoped he wouldn’t screw things up. He nodded at them before turning to continue upwards when a low moan of agony reverberated up through the stairwell. They froze at the sound.

  “What the hell was that?” Eric hissed.

  “It didn’t sound like one of the creatures,” Thaniel whispered. “It sounded like a person, like someone’s hurt.”

  “Fuck it, we keep going,” said Chris, interrupting with his first words all morning. He nodded up towards the stairs. “We’re almost there.”

  Thaniel bit his tongue and thought about it. Chris was right, they were almost to the roof. Besides, he didn’t want to put the group in any more danger than they were already in. He made a decision.

  “You guys go on. I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Where are you going?” asked Kim, her voice almost accusing.

  Another sad moan came up the stairs before he could respond. Thaniel shrugged and looked at his friend. “Whoever it is, it sounds like they need to get to a hospital, and fast. Those helicopters might be their only chance.” He tried to sound confident. “I’ll be right behind you. No worries.”

  “I’m coming with you,” said Eric. “In case you run into any trouble.”

  “No!” hissed Chris as loudly as he dared. “He’s made up his mind, so let him go. There’s safety in numbers. We stay together and we keep going.”

  Thaniel hated the man at that moment, but he bit back his retort. Instead, he nodded. “Chris is right. I’ll only be a few minutes. Keep going, I’ll be right behind you.”

  Thaniel walked past them, heading back down the steps without meeting their eyes. As he rounded the corner of the next landing down, he heard them resume their upward escape, until the sounds of their footsteps faded into nothing and he was left alone.

  -30-

  The Sullivan family truck rolled to a stop at a signpost they had driven by countless times.

  “Welcome to Darby.”

  Beyond the sign, their eyes followed the road into town, beginning at the post office building and the breakfast diner adjacent to it. The small community was devoid of people and the road was eerily deserted, save for a few vehicles whose doors hung open, revealing empty interiors. Even at that distance, they could spot the handprints streaking across windshields and down door handles, but not the ghouls to which the handprints belonged. On either side of the main road, the low squat buildings of the town were eerily reminiscent of mausoleums.

  The town of Darby was empty. Population zero.

  The Sullivans sat there for a few minutes while the truck murmured at an idle, waiting and watching to see if anything happened. When nothing moved, Gabe’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “There’s no way around to the other side but through,” he said finally, turning to his family. “We’ll just make sure we drive through quickly, okay? Keep your eyes peeled for anything that might be dangerous.”

  Molly and the kids nodded, and the truck crawled forward, picking up speed.

  As they entered the town, Molly kept her gaze out her
window, searching intently, but she didn’t know what she was looking for. She had yet to lay eyes on the creatures that Gabe and the kids had seen, the things the radio broadcasts had called ‘skeletals.’ At this point, she almost wanted to see one just so her imagination would stop torturing her.

  Suddenly, something small darted out into the street in front of them and disappeared beneath the truck before Gabe swerved at the last moment. Molly felt herself shoved forward in her seat as Gabe slammed on the brakes. It wasn’t enough, and the truck came to a crunching halt of metal-on-metal as they t-boned a parked vehicle.

  “Is everyone okay?” Gabe asked, turning to her and the kids.

  One by one they nodded, and then Riley spoke, “What was that?”

  “I don’t know, kiddo. I think it was a dog.” Gabe replied.

  Riley gasped and was out the door before Gabe could check to see if their surroundings were safe.

  “Riley! Wait!” Gabe cursed and unbuckled himself before stepping out of the truck. He found his daughter a few steps away, giggling and playing with a small brown puppy.

  “You almost ran him over,” Riley scolded as he approached. She picked the animal up and it immediately began squirming in her arms and licking at her chin and face. She squealed in laughter at its affection. “I recognize this one, it’s the one from the pet shop!” she said, turning and pointing at the pet store to where its front window should have been. All that remained now was a piece of jagged glass that jutted up from the bottom of the frame like an underbite. Behind the glass, somewhere inside the shop, Gabe thought he heard a thump.

  “Jacob, bring me the shotgun,” Gabe said, turning and gesturing to his son still sitting in the truck with Molly. Jacob obliged, and walked the weapon over to him.

  “What is it, Dad?”

  Gabe didn’t respond but held his finger up for silence, listening for the sound again.

  Nothing.

  Slowly, cautiously, Gabe and Jacob walked over to the empty space where the window should have been and peered into the store. On the ground inside, a brick was surrounded by the shattered remains of the glass pane. Littered amongst the shards was the pet shop’s merchandise; with overturned terrariums, open cages, and kibbles of cat and dog food scattered across the floor.

  “Where are all the animals?” Jacob asked, after a quiet moment.

  “Looks like someone came and freed them,” replied Gabe.

  Thump.

  Gabe yanked his shotgun up and pointed it in the direction of the sound. At the back of the shop, a closed door jarred against the frame.

  Thump.

  Something in the back room wanted out.

  “Dad, can we keep him?” interrupted Riley, running up from behind with the puppy still squirming in her hands.

  “What? Oh right, the dog,” Gabe said distractedly, looking down at the pup. He wasn’t sure he was ready for another dog so soon after losing his beloved hound, Ajax, to cancer last year. Besides, with the dead rising as they were, with the family on the move, it just wasn’t a good idea.

  “Please, Dad?” his son added to Riley’s pleadings. “We can’t leave it here alone. It’s just a puppy.”

  In the shop, the door thumped again. This time, Riley noticed it.

  “What is that?” she asked, protectively covering the pup’s face with her hand. “What’s that noise?”

  “It’s nothing. Jacob, take your sister and get back to the truck. Yes-” he said, turning to Riley who had her mouth half-open to ask again. “You may keep the dog.”

  “What are you going to do?” Jacob asked as his father moved to climb into the pet shop through the broken window.

  Gabe grimaced, “I’ve got to get the little mongrel some food, don’t I?”

  In the truck, Molly watched her family from the passenger seat. As her children turned and began walking back towards her with a puppy in Riley’s hands, she realized her husband was climbing into the pet store through its shattered front window.

  Where the hell is he going?

  She opened the passenger door to shout after him when she finally saw it – one of the creatures perched high atop a nearby street lamp, sitting in a low squat like a bird on a telephone wire, gazing down at the family through wide eyeless pits. A blind owl carved of bone. A skeletal.

  She stared mesmerized at the thing, her gut heaving, as it brought a severed human leg to its mouth and bit into it like a drumstick. As it chewed, it dropped the leg which fell with a thud onto a pile of torn-apart torsos, heads, and limbs amassed at the base of the streetlight. Molly looked on in abject horror as a swarm of buzzing, crawling flies attacked the newly dropped meat.

  In her peripherals, Molly saw her children come to a dead stop as they too noticed the monster on the pole. The pup let out a low whine of frustration from being held for so long and Riley snapped her hand over its mouth to silence it. Behind the children, Gabe exited the pet store through the broken window carrying a large bag of dog food on his shoulders like Atlas holding up the earth. Molly wanted to warn him, to shout for him to be quiet, but her mind was in shock and the words never came. Gabe stepped clumsily over windowsill, and his back foot caught on the jagged edge of the broken glass. He stumbled before regaining his balance, but the damage was done, and the remainder of the pane came tumbling out to shatter loudly against the pavement.

  The creature stood at the noise, glaring down at them from its perch atop the post. To Molly’s continued horror, its bloated stomach dangled from its belly cavity like a water balloon hung from a spigot.

  “What the f-,” she heard Gabe say from across the distance as he finally noticed the thing. He dropped the bag of dog food and his shotgun flew up to his shoulder.

  The Sullivan family and the creature remained there motionless for several moments, caught in a staredown, before the creature finally moved. It began to crawl, slowly and unthreateningly, down the lamp post. At the bottom, rather than charging towards them, the thing began rifling through its pile of discarded body parts like a child going through Halloween candy. It settled on a severed hand, which it took in its mouth, before re-ascending the post to sit on its haunches and resume its meal.

  Gabe, who had tracked the thing down and back up the lamp, never lowered his weapon.

  At the truck, hanging halfway out the passenger-side door, Molly frantically waved at her family to return. When her children and husband finally noticed her urgent silent efforts to call them back, they returned to the vehicle, slowly and deliberately, and never taking their eyes off the feasting creature.

  Once inside the safety of the truck, the Sullivans locked their doors. They sat there in silence, unsure of what to do or say next. After a long moment, Gabe finally spoke to no one in particular. “I don’t think it can see us.”

  “No, but it could hear us,” replied Molly. “It knows we are here.”

  “Yeah, so why didn’t it attack?”

  “Because it was too full to chase us,” answered Riley quietly from the back seat. “It wasn’t hungry.”

  To that, nobody had a reply, so Gabe started up the engine and slowly backed away from the wreck. Through the rearview mirror, he caught sight of the gargoylian creature watching their departure, tilting its head at the fading sound of their rattling, damaged truck driving away.

  -31-

  The first thing Sophia noticed when she opened her eyes was the hushed silence of the building. It was a welcome reprieve after a night filled with the sounds of the dead shuffling into walls and furniture. The noises had wreaked havoc on her dreams and left her mind a tired husk when the sun came up the next morning.

  Are they gone?

  Quietly, Sophia rose and walked through the rays of early morning light filtering through the curtains. She crept to the door and stood up on her tiptoes to peer through the peephole.

  Empty

  “Kat,” she whispered, loud enough for her voice to carry through the apartment. “I think they’re gone.”

  Kat ki
cked off the blankets from where she had slept on the floor and stood up with a groan. “Let me see,” she responded stiffly, coming up behind the girl. She brought her eye to the lens, and saw that Sophia was correct. No more dead people out in the hall.

  “Hey, do you hear that?” asked Sophia, running back to the window in the living room. Kat joined Sophia and stared wordlessly out the window.

  The street was empty below but above and across the sky, hundreds of helicopters floated over Boston’s skyline like schools of fish over a reef. The two girls watched, fascinated, as the copters descended towards nearby rooftops, dangling ropes and nets. Survivors who waited there grabbed onto the lines and clung to them as they were lifted away to safety.

  Help had come at last.

  “We have to get to the roof,” Kat announced, turning her gaze down at the girl.

  They spent the next few minutes frantically gathering supplies from around the apartment. Sophia turned over her backpack, dumping papers and schoolwork onto the carpet and replacing them with canned tuna from the pantry. In her room, Kat rummaged through her belongings looking for – she wasn’t sure what. She didn’t know where those helicopters were bringing everyone, or what they would need once they arrived. She just knew she needed to get the kid and herself onto one of them and get the hell out of town. She pulled out clothing she had long ago outgrown but had been too sentimental to discard. She set those aside for Sophia; hopefully, some of the items would fit. In a box on her closet floor, she found an old slingshot and a container full of pellets to go with it. She set those on the bed with the clothes. She added a few more miscellaneous items onto the growing pile before toppling the heap into a duffel bag. She used her bodyweight to stuff everything down tightly before zipping the bag closed. It was heavy as she slung it over her shoulder.

  “Ready, kid?” Kat asked, joining Sophia in the den.

  “I think so, yeah.”

  “Okay, just like yesterday, you stay behind me. We just have to get up to the roof where those helicopters can see us. Easy peasy.”