Storm Lake

by Val Tobin

reached the van and climbed on it, Peter clicked the key fob again, triggering the alarm. They all laughed mirthlessly as the creatures tumbled off the van and dashed into the shelter of the trees. Peter turned off the alarm and closed and locked the door.

  For the next ten minutes, they wandered around the store. Rachel and Jeff ate ice cream. When Rachel asked Peter if he wanted any, he gave her a sheepish smile and told her he was lactose intolerant. He opened a bag of chips instead.

  “What do you deliver to Enza, Peter?” Rachel asked, then had a sudden realization. “Oh! You’re the one who brings the red velvet cupcakes.”

  “Yeah. Among other things.”

  A thud against the door interrupted them, making Rachel scream and almost drop her ice cream. Peter rushed to the door, knife in hand. Spike growled. Skittering sounds came from the roof. Jeff burst into tears and dropped his ice cream into the garbage can. He ran into the other room and shouted at Rachel. “Come in here. We were safe in here. Come on, Rache.”

  Two more creatures joined the one slamming against the door. The movement on the roof grew frenzied. Rachel looked at the windows close to the ceiling and screamed when a face peered in. Long, fleshy fingers splayed against the pane. A sob caught in her throat, and she stared at the creature, unable to move.

  Peter pulled on her arm. She tossed the remainder of her cone into the garbage can and let him drag her into the other room. He closed the door and turned on the light.

  “They did this last night, too,” Rachel said. “They didn’t get in.”

  Peter nodded, but he looked skeptical. Rhythmic thudding came from the main door. Jeff went to the sleeping bag he’d used the night before and curled up on it in the foetal position. He pressed his hands over his ears. Spike lay next to Jeff. Peter sat in the only chair in the room.

  “I want to go home, Rache,” Jeff whined, stress in his voice. Rachel sat next to him.

  “We’ll go home.” She looked at Peter, hopeful.

  He nodded. “Sure. I’ll help you.”

  “Mom won’t be there,” Jeff said.

  Rachel looked again at Peter. He remained silent.

  “Listen,” Rachel said.

  The guys stared at her. Rain pattered on the roof, but all else was silent.

  She stood. Knife in hand, she went to the door, opened it, and flicked off the lights. She sensed Peter behind her.

  “I’ll go,” he said. He held his knife too. She stepped aside and let him pass.

  Dim, grey light made it difficult to see, but she was afraid to turn on the lights. At least nothing stared back through the windows. She moved towards the door, but Peter held her back and went himself.

  Rachel said, “Are they —?”

  He silenced her with a shake of his head.

  She startled and gave a little scream when something brushed against her leg. Just Spike. At least he wasn’t growling. Perhaps they’d left.

  “I don’t see them,” Peter whispered.

  Spike growled. Rachel’s heart lurched. Scrabbling on the roof, a thud, and a ripping sound made her jump. Jeff burst out crying again.

  “Mama,” he said.

  Rachel pulled him to her. She swallowed, her throat making a clicking sound. Another thud came from the roof accompanied by more ripping sounds.

  “I think they’re tearing the shingles off.” Peter’s voice shook. His eyes were wide and his shoulders hunched. He didn’t look much like a grownup anymore.

  “Peter?” Rachel said.

  He turned, his eyes questioning.

  “What did the Ferguses’ house look like?”

  He glanced at the floor and remained silent. After a moment, he raised his head. “They gutted the roof. They tore off the shingles and ripped up the plywood. I doubt this roof will keep them out.”

  “Why didn’t they rip it up last night?”

  “I don’t know. I guess they took a while to figure out how. Or perhaps because you holed up in the inside room and they thought the place was empty.”

  “What do we do?”

  “We have to leave.”

  “They can’t come in through the attic,” she insisted. “The wood’s too thick. They don’t have—”

  Banging started up again, this time metal on wood, followed by more ripping sounds.

  “I guess they do have,” Peter said. “They’ve figured out how to use tools. We have to go. Now.”

  “How?”

  “I won’t unlock the van until we reach it. Rachel, you and Spike jump in on the passenger side. I’ll take Jeff through the driver’s side. If they’re busy on the roof, we can lock ourselves into the van before they know we’ve left the store.”

  Rachel almost argued, but agreed when wood splintered above their heads.

  “Got your knife, Jeff?” Rachel said. He held it up to show her.

  They went to the door. No creatures lurked on the ground or near the trees. The rain continued to pour, low, grey clouds coating the sky. Peter twisted the deadbolt open. He turned the doorknob and opened the door, which made a low scraping sound as it swung inwards. Rachel’s heart leapt into her throat. She suppressed a whimper. Peter froze. Nothing moved in the parking lot.

  Rachel figured she could run to the van in less than ten seconds. She touched Jeff’s hair, and he looked up at her, saucer eyed. The tearing sounds on the roof became louder, the thudding more insistent.

  Peter took his car keys from his pocket, slid the lock aside on the screen door, and gripped the handle. Sweat ran down the side of his face. Her own armpits were damp. The hand on Jeff’s knife shook, and he sucked in shallow, hitching breaths.

  A crash in the other room behind them made Rachel jump. Spike barked and lunged towards the door. The scrabbling and banging sounds grew louder and more frantic. The plaster above them sprinkled down on their heads.

  “We’ve got to do this now,” Peter said. He tapped Jeff on the back. “Ready? Jeff, you stick with me. Rachel, run and don’t look back.”

  When they nodded, he said, “On three. One. Two. Three.”

  He threw the screen door open.

  They tumbled out the door. Rachel grabbed Spike by the collar and raced for the van. She felt as if she moved in slow motion. The van lights flickered. Peter and Jeff lurched ahead of her. Spike tore out in front, but veered away from the van.

  “Spike!” she screamed, then wanted to bite her tongue off for yelling. Without thinking, she looked behind her.

  The old wooden screen door flapped open, and two creatures hurtled out of the opening. Spike growled and moved towards the creatures.

  “No. Spike. Come now!”

  He turned back, the desperation and fear in her voice compelling him. Rachel reached the van and wrenched open the door. Jeff lay on the floor. Peter jumped in when Rachel stepped into the passenger side. She landed in the seat and screamed for Spike. He ran towards her, but when he crouched to leap into the van, a shadow dashed in front of him. Spike growled and lunged at the creature.

  Rachel gripped her knife and moved to jump out again, but Peter yanked her back.

  “Let me go.”

  “No!”

  Peter reached across her body, pulled the van door closed, and locked the doors.

  “They’ll kill him. Spike!” Rachel clawed at Peter’s arm.

  The beast tore into Spike’s shoulder and he yelped in pain. Not thinking, Rachel yanked on the door handle, but the door didn’t open. Frantic, she searched for the mechanism to unlock it. Spike wrestled the creature, grabbing it by the throat. Blood squirted from its neck.

  “Open the door, Peter. Oh, God, please,” she said. “He can do it.”

  Another creature attacked Spike now, and two more appeared behind the first. Peter’s arms tightened around her. Rachel struggled against him, and he pressed her head to his chest.

  “Don’t watch,” he said. “Oh, God, Rachel, I’m so sorry.”

  Jeff sobbed and wailed on the floor between the seats. Spike’s barks and yelps died away
. Rachel cried out in despair and pulled away from Peter. She needed to see Spike’s body. They couldn’t leave him. They couldn’t.

  The creatures tore into Spike and feasted on him. She felt bile rise and turned her head away. Arms around Peter, she sobbed into his chest. Peter reached around her and started the van.

  “Buckle up,” he said. “We gotta move.”

  She screamed when something thudded onto the van. A creature had jumped onto the roof. A grey, slimy hand thumped the windshield and Rachel screamed again. Peter didn’t wait for them to buckle up. Rachel pitched forward in her seat when Peter threw the van into reverse and pressed the gas.

  “Buckle up,” she shouted at Jeff. He crawled to a captain’s chair behind Peter and struggled into it. The van lurched and Rachel almost lost her seat. She grabbed her own seatbelt and snapped it in place.

  Rachel searched for her knife, and finding it on the floor, she snatched it up. The thudding on the roof continued. A face appeared in the windshield. Peter stomped on the brake pedal and the face vanished. He spun the van around and accelerated along the dirt road leading to the highway.

  Two creatures scratched and slid their way down the front windshield. Their long fingers gripped the glass, and their feet braced on the hood. Peter slammed on the brakes again, but the jarring didn’t throw them.

  “Fuck off!” Peter screamed. He turned on the windshield wipers, spraying the beasts with wiper fluid. The creatures continued to cling, small, suction-like protrusions on their fingers helping them stick to the glass.

  Rachel gasped. No wonder they climbed the store so easily.

  One of the creatures gripped a moving wiper blade and ripped it off. Peter sprayed them again with the