by Phil Maxey
“He’s… he’s… one of them…”
“He’s just hungry, like the rest of us. Eat your pizza.”
The door to the kitchen sprung open with Brad holding another tray of food. “And here is the—”
Tentacles sprung from the old man’s sleeves, instantly smothering the table. A woman screamed, while the others scrambled from their seats, some running past Brad, knocking the food to the ground and him into the door frame.
Meg launched herself out of the seat, glancing back at the thing seated just ten-feet away. The old man’s face was transforming, morphing, his skull expanding as if it were trying out different versions. She scooped up Helen, pulling Josh with her left hand as someone pushed into her, breaking her grip with the boy and sending her careening into a cart of ketchup and mustard bottles. She fell to the ground, Helen tumbling to the side but immediately looked back down the aisle.
The thing had settled upon a face. Brown skin, almost but not completely was stretched across a canine like mouth, which opened and closed snapping at air around it.
Meg couldn’t see Josh, maybe he ran out with the others? Her heart sunk on catching sight of a sneaker, just visible beneath the table they were seated at.
They were alone now, just the two kids, herself and the thing which appeared to be getting used to its new form. The tentacles started to retract from the table.
Meg looked to her right, locating Helen hiding under another table. She gestured towards the back of the room and the door to the kitchen. “Crawl…” she whispered, but the child just shook her head. She went to redouble her effort to convince the girl to move, but the table creaked, wood and plastic splintering, making her flick her head back towards what used to be the old man. It was expanding again, growing as it stood, the clothes that once covered it tore or dissolved, she couldn’t tell which. Tentacles now spread from the pant legs, replacing the man’s shoes. She thought about standing, grabbing Helen and running to the doorway. The thing would get to her before she did but maybe the child would make it, but as she watched its head slowly turn then look down at her, realizing there was something human just feet away, she knew any chance of escape had long since gone. A tear ran from her eye, not for herself but for the two children and the suffering that Jess was going to go through. A whimper came from beneath the table, causing the thing to sniff in that direction then lower its angular head. In that moment, Meg made up her mind. She wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Hey! Here!” she shouted, getting to her feet. The thing’s skull pivoted towards her, immediately producing a growl. She stood proud, straightening her back. “You know, they’re going to—”
She felt a light spray of some substance which stung her skin before she heard the glass shattering and the thing let rip a roar of pain. Hands grabbed the back of her, which she fought against, knowing Josh was still beneath the table. The air was now a maelstrom of booms and cracks of gunfire coming from multiple directions. The creature’s arms, if that’s what they were tried to raise, tried to stop the projectiles slamming into its malformed body.
Pulling away from whoever was trying to save her, she scrambled forward as the thing fell back, crashing into a pilar and made it to the table they were seated at. Her hands fumbled for Josh’s legs and arms but he kicked out, not wanting to move. “Josh! Now!” she screamed, getting purchase on his wrist and with all her strength heaved him clear from the table, as other hands were doing the same to her, moving her towards the back of the room.
She and Josh fell into the hallway and she looked up at Daryl.
“Come on!” he shouted, dragging her and Josh into the kitchen then past counters and stoves out of the small back exit onto the snow-covered path.
Meg whirled around at the people there. “Helen!”
“She’s here!” said an elderly woman with an arm around Helen’s shoulder.
Brad appeared from the corner of the building, out of breath with a rifle in his hand. “We think it’s dead.”
CHAPTER TEN
11: 22 a.m. Sky of eastern Denver.
Jess had never seen Denver from the air. And from their initial altitude the city looked as how she imagined it would. Gleaming towers, the stadium near where they lived, highways cutting through the urban areas, greener but now snowier areas to the south and all laid out against the backdrop of the frosted summits of Pikes Peaks. But as they descended towards the expanse of concrete of the main airport, she started to see movement in the streets and sidewalks nearby. If she didn’t focus, she could almost believe they were humans, going about their day, living their lives but as they fell below a thousand feet, the dark brown shapes, most moving slowly, others running, and others clinging onto the sides of buildings, began to gain form. The city was infested. Much more so than her last visit. And the creatures weren’t hiding in the sewers of the underground car parks, they were outside. Their awkward, decaying bodies brought into stark contrast by the glorious morning sun. Jess knew why there were so many. He had brought them. To stop her from getting to her daughter. She felt a wave of nausea thinking about Sam and what Rackham might be doing to her. As the flaps lowered for landing she was sure of two things. She was going to find her and Rackham was going to die.
Sanchez glanced out of his window, seeing what he could then shook his head. “Once we put down,” he said into the microphone on the headset, the hum of the engine audible in the background. “There’s no guarantee of getting back up.” He looked at his passenger. “You know that, right? Those things are not going to be too far away. This could be a one way trip kind of deal.”
She continued scanning the roads which surrounded the airport. “I know.” She looked back at him. “You don’t have to leave the plane. I’ll jump out then you take off.”
“You expect me to just leave you down there?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
He frowned, looking out front. “Maybe your husband wouldn’t be too pleased if I returned without his wife.”
She looked at the flat, empty concrete that was now only a few hundred feet below. “He’ll understand.”
“Yeah, maybe, and maybe not. If you don’t mind the company, I’ll tag along.”
“Let’s just get on the ground. The things know we’re here.”
Sanchez throttled back, lowering their speed. “How far we from your company’s headquarters?”
“About five miles I think.” As the ground rushed towards them she looked out the window to her right and took in a breath. Things were hurtling across the fields and parking lots which bordered the runway. The cabin jolted as the wheels touched down. She flicked her head back to the front, spotting possible salvation near a collection of buildings a few hundred yards away and raised her hand, pointing to the trucks and pickups parked near an office building. “Get us over there! Near those vehicles!”
He steered left, increasing the power slightly and they left the concrete, bumping over faded grass.
The creeping buzzing was now obvious within her mind, even though she couldn’t see the coming horde from ground level. “Can’t we go any faster!”
“Not if you don’t want us to hit a ditch and nose dive into it!” He increased the throttle regardless, the plane lifting off the rises in the uneven ground, then landing back heavily. They moved onto the smoother surface of another runway and kept going.
“There!” She pointed to a white, snow-clearing truck. The sensation in her mind was worse than before. The whole back of her head was burning and it wasn’t getting better.
Sanchez applied the brakes, pulling the headphones off and pushed open his door. She did the same, immediately hearing what they still couldn’t see. As they both jumped to the ground and ran to the truck, like the passing of a train they could feel the rumbling through their boots. Sanchez pulled open the truck’s door, but she was more taken by what was at the end of the runway. As he fumbled to pull wires from the steering column she stepped forward, holding her hand above her
brow to better see what was emerging from the glare. “There’s…”
Sanchez swore in Spanish then switched to exploring the truck’s interior. “Just need to find a—”
“There’s something…”
“— tool to get to these damn—”
“Sanchez!”
He turned in his seat, seeing where she was looking at. An armored vehicle of some kind was speeding towards them. He climbed down, intending to see who they were about to meet, when he caught sight of more movement, this time from the opposite end of the airport.
Recognition grew in Jess’s mind despite the incessant hive of noise confusing her thoughts.
Sanchez tugged on her shoulder. “Er, Jess…”
She pulled away from him and moved towards the SWAT vehicle which slowed to a stop just tens of feet away and hardly realized he had run past her towards it, then turned around and fell back in one movement, her mouth falling open. The entire horizon from the hints of apartments, miles to her far left, across to the modern multi-storey glass construction that was the terminal building to her right. A sea of rage was about to come crashing down on them. A hand touched her shoulder and she swung around to a face she hardly recognized. “Scott?”
The soldier that helped her escape days before had a black eye and cuts across his face. “If you want to live, get in the truck!”
She ran with him, jumping up in the back. Another individual looked at her with a gun. Sanchez pulled the rear door closed and everyone held on as the truck jolted then surged away.
The heavy-set woman looked out of the small slit of a window at the rear. “Go faster!” she shouted.
“I’m trying!” said Scott, driving.
The woman looked back to Jess. “Why did you come here?”
“Yeah, why did you!” shouted Scott while pushing all the way down on the gas, the heavy engine taking time to climb through the gears.
The woman looked at the opening at the front and the man driving. “You know her?”
Jess awkwardly walked to the back, trying to balance against the jostling cabin and looked out the same window. “I think you’re losing them.” She returned her gaze to the front. “You should be in Galveston. Why are you still here?”
“That’s a bit of a long story. Let’s just say Lucas wasn’t who we thought he was!”
It was more confusion for Jess that she didn’t need. “I need you to drive me to Biochron. My daughter’s there.”
“Not gonna happen, lady,” said the dark-haired woman.
Jess ignored her, moving closer to the cab. She leaned through the gap as they roared across an intersection. “Scott. You need to turn around.”
He glanced up at her. “Last twenty-four hours, the city’s been swamped with the things. We heard your plane and came looking to see who would be crazy enough to land there. I don’t understand how your kid’s at Biochron, but going back is suicide.”
“That’s my choice. If you don’t want to take me, then stop and I’ll find my own way.”
He glanced at her again, then looked back to the road shaking his head. “I got a better idea. We’re almost at our base. Come with us and we’ll work out a way to get your kid back.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
12: 16 p.m. Northern outskirts of Newgrove.
Landon looked at the glistening waters of a lake a few miles away to his left. It was easy to imagine boats floating across gentle waves and his mind returned to a few summers ago, which they’d spent in Colorado Springs. He wanted to believe similar new memories could be forged, but each time his thoughts went in that direction they brought with them the pain of grief. Not merely for his family being divided but for the millions that no longer inhabited the towns and cities.
Generations lost…
He looked back to the road then down to the map. “Not far now. Few more minutes and we should be in the city.”
Esther nodded.
A homestead passed by, with chicken coops, outbuildings and rusting farm equipment. He wondered who would be the new farmers then a strange idea jumped into his consciousness.
Maybe I could farm…
He hadn’t really had much time to think about what his role would be in the new world. If there was one, he presumed it would be law enforcement of some kind, but as the semi-truck thundered along the two-lane country road, heading south, he kind of liked the idea of growing things. He chuckled to himself briefly drawing Esther’s attention then frown, before the weight of what his wife was trying to do crushed what little humor he was able to summon.
He let out a sigh and let his head fall back against the headrest. Lachlan let out a snorting breath behind them. The teen had been asleep for most of their journey, which was good. He needed to heal. Landon still didn’t understand how he was still alive after seeing his injuries. Whatever the change did to him... and his family, the ability to heal was something to be thankful for. He was sure it would be useful in the days ahead to survive what came next.
“At the intersection, go left,” he said. Esther nodded then slowed, doing as asked. “How long have you known Sanchez?”
She looked at him, then back to the road. “As long as everything went to shit. Me and… the guy that died, ran into him while also running from the things. He told us about the superstore.” She glanced at her passenger again. “You want to know if he’s trustworthy?” Landon’s none response told her that’s exactly what he wanted to figure out. “Hell if I know. All I can tell ya, is he worked hard on this truck.”
It wasn’t much of an answer, but it was something, he thought.
A railway ran along the now four-lane road, and white and light-gray warehouses passed by on both sides, then a forecourt of a car showroom, full of vehicles from the 80s and 90s. Both inside the cabin that were awake scanned the shadows and interiors for any sign of the things, but everything looked as it should.
Soon the retail buildings had become restaurants bordering the road, and then single story homes.
“This place looks untouched,” said Esther. “Could it be the virus never reached here?”
Landon didn’t think that was possible. “It was airborne. It would have reached everywhere.”
“What’s that?” She gestured to an intersection a hundred yards away. The semi slowed as it approached confirmation that the virus had reached this small country town, for a wall of sedans, trucks, pickups, vans and what looked like a shipping container were strewn across the concrete. A makeshift artificial wall. She kept the pressure on the brake, stopping a few yards short of the barrier.
Both looked at the windows of the red-brick stores of the town’s main street. The sound of the engine, being the only noise.
“Well, whatever happened here, is over now,” she said then looked across Landon to her right. An impressive columned white building, mentioned breakfast and boarding. “Maybe we can stay in…” She noticed he was focused on the store on the corner, ahead of them and followed his gaze. “What is it?”
“We’re not alone. On the roof.”
She leaned forward, squinting against the strong sun. “I don’t see…” But then she did. A head ducked below the wall.
Landon looked to the opposite corner, to their left. “Behind the white pickup. We’re being watched.”
“What shall we do?”
“Go and say hello.” He pushed open his door and jumped down before she could respond, then closed it. He saw the people on the roof and then others behind the dark of the windows of the stores that lined the street across the way. He held his hand up. “Hello! We’re not here to steal!”
Bodies with guns sprang up all around him at the same time. On the roofs, from behind cars. A door opened in the store to his left. A man with a stetson came out, one of the only people not with a gun in his hand, but the two men behind him did.
“What’s your business in Newgrove?” shouted the man.
“Just looking for a place where there are no monsters.” Landon looked back to t
he truck. “Got a woman and a teenager. That’s it.”
“What’s in the trailer.”
“Supplies. Which I’m happy to share if you allow us to stay.”
The man walked forward, his bodyguards in tow. He whispered something to one of them, and they jogged forward moving to the back of the trailer.
“You mind if we take a look?”
“Nope.”
“I’m Owen Brayford. Kind of in charge of things in Newgrove. Where you come from?”
“A small town about a hundred miles north. Before that Denver.” A clang came from the behind as the trailer’s door was opened. Landon nodded towards the wall of vehicles. “This was where you made a stand?”
“Sure was. That was a few days ago. There were some remaining, but they all left this morning. Heading north. You see any on your way in?” Landon shook his head. The young man reappeared, and nodded excitedly to Brayford who walked forward, his hand held out. “Welcome to Newgrove.”
*****
12: 56 p.m. Southern Denver.
As forts go, the six-story office building that was surrounded by parking lots was not a bad one, thought Jess. Problem was it was eleven miles south of where she needed to be. She stood in an open plan office, some twenty-feet square giving her a view of southern Denver to the north. Seated on office chairs and on desks were six others, including the woman who helped save her. She looked at Scott. “You said you would help get me to Biochron. If you can’t do—”
He held a hand up. “I said I will help and I will. But you need to know what you’re getting yourself into, by going back there. We were on our way south, when the… thing we called ‘Lucas?’ changed. It had killed three of our little group, before I managed to put bullets into it, but then it got to the driver and well… we crashed. I tried to help who I could, but it…” He looked down, swallowing. “We weren’t prepared to fight something like that.”
