It had been seven o’clock on the dot when they had all entered the Romero Center, using one of the side doors that had been ajar. They had scanned the perimeter to see if there were any cute females to ogle in their row when they heard screaming echoing in from outside. As the attacks began the four of them hadn’t known what to do; although Ben, the most influential of the group, had suggested it might be safer back at the dorm. Usually, Riley would have protested just for the sake of doing it, but not then. He was too out of it to do anything but agree.
They made their way through the hurried and panicked crowds toward the door they had used to come inside. Ben looked outside to see if it was clear. It had looked as though that side of the Center had no clue of what terrible things were occurring just fifty feet away. Wasting no time, the four of them took off running through the woods and back toward their dorm. Mike had been the last one out of the door and by then one of the creatures had noticed them all running away. It took off after them with incredible speed and grabbed hold of Mike’s shirt, pulling him to the ground. His face landed hard into the dirt and the creature began to feed on him. As the creature turned full focus on Mike it didn’t even notice Riley when he ran up beside it. He kicked it off of Mike which sent It rolling down the hill.
Mike now lay on Riley’s bed, crying out in pain and bleeding all over the bed sheets. Riley took a small knife out of his pocket and proceeded to cut a long strip of the sheet off. He put the knife away and headed over to Mike with the piece of sheet dangling from his hands.
“Hold him down, alright?” Riley said, looking at the others for a moment.
They rushed over, grabbing hold of Mike’s arms and legs to steady him as Riley leaned in with the strip of bed sheet. He wrapped the sheet around the open wound on Mike’s neck, again and again assuring it was tight enough to try and give it some pressure. As he did Mike began to struggle but the force of the others was too great for him and all he could do was scream.
After he tied it down he backed away, watching his friend writhing in pain on his bed.
“That won’t last long. If we don’t get him to a hospital he’s not going to make it,” Riley said, still staring at Mike. “Somebody call 9-1-1.”
Jeff picked up the phone near Riley’s bed and put the receiver to his ear. He dialed the number and waited, expecting to hear a voice on the other end of the line. Instead he heard a recording. He listened to it in total disbelief and then slammed the receiver down on the cradle. The other’s looked at him, scared.
“What happened?” Ben asked.
“It’s down,” Jeff said, staring at the floor.
“It’s down? How is 9-1-1 down, Jeff?” Ben said, accusingly.
Jeff looked up at him, furious.
“I don’t know, Ben,” he said, mocking him. “Are you accusing me of lying? Because if you are I think I could come up with a better lie than that!”
Riley jumped in between the two of them, the blood on his fingers from Mike’s wounds beginning to dry.
“Calm down! Both of you! This is not the time! Just shut up and relax.” Riley said.
Ben and Jeff suddenly realized they were overreacting and calmed down, looking ashamed of themselves. Riley walked over to the stereo perched on the top of his dresser. He turned it on and began to flip through the dial. After several minutes of happy pop songs and political talk radio he turned to the others.
“I can’t believe this. No one is reporting what’s happening out there,” he said.
“That or they’re just not saying anything. I mean, what if we’re the only place it’s happening to?” Ben said.
“I don’t believe that. There has to be other places going through the same thing. There just has to be,” Riley said with more hope than true belief.
“Maybe they’re just not reporting it on the radio. Maybe it’s on television,” Jeff said.
Riley turned to him, disappointed.
“Well, if that’s true and it really is on TV then we won’t be seeing it anytime soon. Against school policy,” Riley said.
“The only ones I know of are in the Mass Com building and there’s no way I’m heading back out there,” Ben said.
“They may be against school policies but that didn’t stop Daniel Geller from hiding one over the door in his dorm room,” Jeff said, excited.
Ben looked at him, his hands on his hips.
“They confiscated that thing two weeks ago. Besides, media is media. If the TV’s got it the radio would have it too,” Ben said.
They all stopped talking for a moment, trying to think of other options they had. Riley began to scan the dial again on the stereo. This time, as he approached the educational FM band he heard a voice that peaked his interest.
“After making it out of the Romero Center I made it here. One of them attacked me just before I reached the station but somehow, through the grace of God, I managed to get past It. I don’t know what these things are but—“
The voice on the radio continued as Riley looked at the others.
“What station is that?” Ben asked.
“90.1.”
Ben’s face immediately lit up.
“That’s WCLR!” Jeff said. “Somebody’s broadcasting from the college!”
They huddled around the stereo, listening intently to what the DJ had to say.
CHAPTER 18
After Robert had gotten a hold of himself, catching his breath and putting a few more chairs near the door to barricade it, he had made his way back into the DJ booth. It was a cramped, dark space filled with equipment he had never seen before. The walls were lined with shelves housing hundreds upon hundreds of CD’s and the satellite radio feed was coming through two large speakers suspended to the left and right of the booth. As he scanned the booth, slightly in awe of the fact that he had almost accomplished what he set out to do, he realized something: although the equipment was huge and looked intimidating it really wasn’t that complicated.
A large audio board, complete with over thirty faders and probably just as many ways to route things, sat facing the pane of glass that looked out into the hallway of the station. He walked over to it, sliding his book bag off of his shoulders and sat down in the DJ’s chair. It’s just like the one at home, he said to himself. There’s about a million more buttons, but it’s the same basic concept.
When he had been at home, putting together his radio show for his friends at school, he had had to use many different pieces of equipment to get the results he wanted. He had started out with only a few—the basics to get him started and anything he could buy on the cheap. Then, his last year in high school, his parents bought him a really nice six-channel mixer for his birthday. His birthday was in August so it had arrived just in time for his first show of the school year. That mixer had faders, microphone inputs and an equalizer. That mixer had been a much smaller version of the one he was looking at now.
He lifted his book bag up and set it down in front of a small rack with three CD players attached to it. He unzipped it and rummaged through it, finally emerging with a handful of CD’s from his own collection. The satellite feed was still emanating from the speakers above him and that was what troubled him the most. He had no idea how to shut the feed down and go live. And if he did go live what would he say? Don’t say anything, the thought. At least not at first. Just play music until you get your bearings together.
He flipped through some of his CD’s and pulled one out, ejecting the nearby CD player’s tray and popping it in. Once that was ready he began his search for the satellite feed source. He scanned every inch of the equipment and after what seemed like half an hour he finally came across a small switch to his right. A faded sticker was just above it that read, Sat Feed.
His heart began to pound in his chest. He knew that once he flipped that switch the station would go live and he would be in control of that giant audio board. He closed his eyes for a moment, and prayed: Dear God, thank you for getting me this far. I know you’ve w
atched over me tonight and kept me safe. I ask you now, as I prepare to go on the air that you will guide me through what I do not yet know or understand about this equipment. May my voice be heard where it is needed tonight. Amen.
He slowly opened his eyes and took a deep breath. He flipped the switch and suddenly one of the tape decks behind him began to roll. An announcer’s voice went over the speakers with a light and poppy soundtrack behind him.
“This is WCLR-90.1,” the voice began. “Mountain Valley’s number one choice for contemporary Christian hits. WCLR, the clear choice.”
As the tape ended Robert slid over to the CD player and hurried to play the CD he had put in. Once he did a horrifying thought occurred to him: he hadn’t looked to see what fader controlled the volume of the CD player. He panicked; sweat starting to form on his forehead. Again he prayed. God, please help me. I need your help. He stretched his fingers out, reaching for the faders. They fell on two of them near a separation of sections in the middle of the board. He slid them up, the sweat now threatening to roll down his face, and listened as music suddenly filled the speakers above him. His meters and displays lit up as his CD went over the air. He nearly collapsed in his seat, sighing heavily. Thank you, God, he said aloud. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Over the next three and a half minutes he tried to familiarize himself with the audio board as much as possible, noting where the microphone level was as well as how to turn it on. By the time the song had finished playing he faded his microphone up and began to address his listeners, wherever they were.
“My name is Robert Donovan,” he began, a little shaky at first. “To be honest, I’m not quite sure where to start except for to say that I have, through God’s grace this evening, made it through quite an ordeal to be here.
“For those of you who don’t know, Mountain Valley University is under attack. By whom or what, I don’t know and if I tried to describe to you what I saw tonight I’m not sure you would even believe me. If you are listening to this broadcast from somewhere on campus please stay where you are. If you’re trying to get out, wondering if things are safer somewhere other than where you are, I can assure you that the answer is no.”
Robert relaxed in his chair, becoming a little more comfortable with his own voice and trying to communicate as calmly as possible to whoever might be listening.
“I will use the equipment here at the station to see what kind of information I can get for you and I will try to contact police and other local authorities. Until then, try and find a place to hide and please, I beg you, do not leave your dorms. And under no circumstances head toward the dome. It’s completely overrun. Stay tuned for more information as I get it and if you have information that needs to be heard call the campus station and I’ll get it on the air.”
Robert killed his microphone and brought up the music once more.
The music from the campus radio station is played through the speakers of Riley’s stereo as the others, Ben and Jeff, are huddled around it. Mike lay on the bed unconscious.
“I can’t believe someone is actually broadcasting there,” Ben said, rubbing his forehead.
“Maybe he’ll be able to reach the police,” Jeff said; his hopes were immediately dashed by the look on Ben’s face.
“I doubt it. If you couldn’t get through to 9-1-1 then what can he possibly do?” Ben said.
Suddenly, Mike let out a bloodcurdling scream. His eyes widened, threatening to bulge out of his skull, as he grabbed the sides of Riley’s bed. His fingers clawed at the sheets, now soaked with his own blood. The others turned to him, wanting desperately to look away. He barely resembled the Mike they had all known. In just an hour he had gone from their best friend, the one who had always been there to make a joke or lead the group, to a deathly pale, shadow of a man. His veins had turned a dark, rich shade of purple and turquoise, and were easily visible now all over his neck and along his forearms.
“We’ve got to do something,” Jeff said, panicked. “We have to get him to a hospital.”
“And how do we do that? Fly him there?” Ben said, the stress making him extremely temperamental.
Jeff walked over to Mike who was once again moaning, as if in a horrible dream that he couldn’t seem to wake up from. Jeff leaned in to him, whispering.
“It’s going to be alright, man. I promise,” Jeff said, smelling the stench of dried blood.
Riley stood in the corner of the room staring at the floor, as if searching the ill advised pattern in it for answers. It must have worked because suddenly Riley began to move toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Ben asked him, still visibly angry.
Riley turned to him, not in the least moved by Ben’s anger.
“There’s got to be a first aid kit in the R.A.’s room,” Riley said.
Jeff stood up from beside the bed, his hands nervously searching for the pockets of his jeans.
“What if those things get in here?” Jeff asked.
That thought, no matter how tangible or realistic it seemed, hadn’t occurred to them. In their rush to get back to the dorm, to safety, and to get Mike away from those monsters they had never bothered once to assume that the creatures would eventually make their way up the stairs and enter into the dorm hallway. Riley wasn’t sure what was more terrifying, the thought that the creatures would come for them in their own homes or the fact that it had never crossed their minds. What else have we forgotten? he thought.
This time Ben had an answer and it even came off levelheaded.
“We need to barricade the doors on either end of the hall,” he said.
Jeff moved forward, as if called into action.
“What about wood and tools?” Jeff asked.
“Doesn’t matter. Just use whatever you can from any of the rooms to board up the entrances. The heaviest stuff you can find,” Ben said, starting to move toward the door with Jeff.
Riley looked back at them as he headed down the hallway.
“I’ll be there to help as soon as I get Mike bandaged back up,” he said.
With their tasks at hand they all hurried to their places disappearing at either ends of the hall, Mike’s sounds of pain echoing out after them.
CHAPTER 19
Route 237 was the only main road in or out of town. There were other ways to get around-through back streets mostly-but if you were trying to leave or just passing through you were going to be taking route 237 for at least twenty minutes of your trip. It was a busy road, especially during the beginning and the end of summer. Students used the road for everything from getting to the airport, going to the local shopping area or coming back from summer break.
Ewen and Jennifer emerged from the woods gasping for breath and looking out across route 237. What had once been a busy entryway to the college was now the site of fires and destruction. Several bodies were lying in the street. A Ford Mustang was overturned in a ditch with its headlights still beaming at burning blades of grass.
By some miracle the gas station on their side of the street had not exploded. Cars had been wrecked very near the gas pumps but none of them had managed to hit them. The convenience store beside the pumps though, that was a different story. The windows were smashed in and even in the darkness Jennifer noticed that the store was a mess inside. Squished candy bars and broken bottles of soda had been thrown outside and into the parking lot.
They stood there for far too long, their eyes not believing the destruction that lay before them. The sound of breaking glass shook them out of their trance and they immediately began to move again, heading toward a hill on the other side of the street. As they walked past the convenience store they heard glass breaking again. Jennifer turned toward the sound, looking right into the store. The fluorescent lights flickered on for just a split second and she could see one of the creatures rummaging through the store. Just before the lights inside went out again she thought she saw the creature turn It’s head and look right at her. Chills broke out on her skin as
the lights inside the store flickered off and then, seconds later, on again. The creature was gone. Had it even been there? Was any of this real? The questions rolled through her mind starting to make her feel dizzy. She stopped herself by looking at Ewen who was now focused on the street ahead of them.
“What happened here?” she asked him, whispering.
Ewen took another minute to take in the destruction, a cold, sharp pain hitting his chest.
“I don’t know. It’s like the whole world has fallen apart,” he said. “I just hope it’s not like this back at school.”
Ben and Jeff had managed to bust several doors down to the dorm rooms. They had carried out a large, oak dresser from the first room and slid it in front of one of the entryways. They had done the same at the other end of the hallway and when they had finished, the sweat rolling off of their foreheads, they started to wonder if Riley had gotten lost looking for the first aid kit.
“Riley? Are you okay in there?” Ben shouted, getting no reply.
He looked over at Jeff who was wiping some of the sweat from the sides of his face.
“Let’s go find him. I think we’ve done about all we can do here anyway,” he said.
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