by Mark Tufo
Blake kicked harder now and drove his left foot down into the top of the Variant’s head. Two blows, and then three, and then with a fourth and final strike, the Variant pulled back its sucker lips. Unable to get a breath and falling further into the darkness, the beast released its grip and dropped from sight.
Searching for the two others, Blake felt himself slipping. Although he had pulled himself to the surface, the yacht was too far away and the pounding in his head told him that this was where he’d take his final breath. He would lose consciousness and within seconds he’d end his time here on this earth, buried amongst the monsters that had also found the bottom of the East River.
— 13 —
The fading sun was high in the sky. It was warming his back and much hotter than he could ever remember. His skin felt as though someone was running a heat lamp quickly across the exposed areas between his shoulder blades. He didn’t particularly like it, but he also didn’t want to move. He was at odds with the weird sensation—it wasn’t entirely pain, but also not a source of pleasure.
And the smell. Rotting meat was the only way he could describe the rancid odor assaulting his abnormally sensitive nasal cavity. It bled into his mouth and down the back of his throat. He waited for the nausea to return; he was sure it would come, but it never did.
He slowly lifted his head, trying to get an idea of exactly where he was, what this was. He didn’t recognize his surroundings and more than that, he couldn’t recall much more than the preceding three or four minutes.
Massive rocks and water. A whole lot of water, as far as the eye could see. But that was behind him and he wasn’t going back. In front, there was also a concrete retaining wall and something of considerable substance beyond that. He couldn’t see it from where he was, but he could sense it. Something he needed and something else that needed him.
Pushing up to his feet, he scanned the uneven surface as his vision crystalized. He could see everything in vivid detail and without the searing pain from before. In fact, he felt no pain at all—anywhere in his body.
Quickly scaling the short concrete retaining wall and the guardrail above that, he leapt out onto 42nd. Hundreds of forgotten vehicles—some still in perfectly formed lines—crowded the long onramp to FDR.
He stopped alongside a burned-out late model sedan as the street beyond the UN Building began to quake. Variants, more by the second with their clicking joints and their popping mouths, skittered out from behind the sparsely placed shadows and into the street; however, none moved to within ten feet of where he now stood.
His first instinct wasn’t to run, and although he was outnumbered more than a hundred to one, he wasn’t afraid…but he was angry. He didn’t completely understand why, and at the moment he was also starving, as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. And staring at the beasts—too many to count—he wanted to feed.
Blinking through the confusion, something to his left glinted off the chrome trim of the sedan. With a rush of adrenaline, he turned toward the vehicle and caught his own reflection in the passenger window.
What the hell was this?
This wasn’t him. Although he was able to connect the events that led to him being here on this street, to him being amongst the massive horde, he didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to admit that this was what he’d become, but there was absolutely no denying it. He was now one of them; he was the same, but also different.
He was big. Much bigger than before. Much bigger than any of the others, probably twice their size. His arms held more muscle, his shoulders were more round and striated, and although his legs hadn’t grown by the same proportions, the joints appeared to have shifted in a way that would make running on all fours considerably more efficient.
His thick black hair was also now gone. Only a thin layer of translucent skin covered his skull and as he leaned closer, he noticed that his mouth and chin were covered in dried blood that was a muted shade of black. It had also run from his ears and nose, clotting near the upper part of his chest and neck. He slowly wiped at it, but as it flaked away, the stench sent a surge of aggression coursing through every ounce of his body.
As the crowd began to part, he reached forward, gripped the passenger door, and almost pulled it from its hinge. In unison, the horde began to shriek, pounding their hooked claws into the long line of vehicles at their backs. The ground shook and the sound of over a hundred enraged beasts echoed through the small space between the UN Building and the open air playground, finally dissipating out into the city beyond.
He turned to face the massive gathering of Variants and dropped to all fours. The sky grew dark as he placed his swollen claw-like hands down and began to walk forward. The break in the crowd continued to grow as he drew to within twenty feet and then their incoherent wailing ended all at once.
He wasn’t afraid of them. They weren’t here to do him any harm. In fact, they appeared to be watching his every move, as if they’d come here expecting something from him. Something they needed from him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he assumed that since one of these things had dragged him from the edge of the East River, he would soon find out.
Thunder clapped somewhere overhead as five small shadows emerged from between the two rows of Variants. As he waited, five men, all extremely malnourished, wearing thick dusty beards walked hesitantly out into the open space. Looking back at the horde with confusion in his eyes, the first man turned to the crowd.
“Why are you doing this? We’ve given you everything you asked for and there’s no way we can go back there now; he’ll kill us…or worse.”
A tall rather stocky looking Variant moved quickly away from the others and stood within inches of the man who appeared to be questioning the directive he’d been given. The beast raised its meaty arm and slammed it down hard onto the head of the already broken man, knocking him to the ground. The Variant then came back around and gripped the thin man by the neck, pulling him to his feet.
The beast brought its face even with the man’s and motioned for him to keep moving. The man fought to free himself before getting back to his feet and joining the others. The five men now stood shoulder to shoulder and stared at the ground, avoiding any form of eye contact.
Watching as the men shuffled nervously, a few now shivering under the brand new rain, he was unable to control himself a second longer. It had to happen now. He was changed and although he was only able to remember bits and pieces of his former life, he couldn’t imagine anything so powerful. This wasn’t about hate or jealousy, or even fear, anger, or love. This was about something different. This was about survival.
Breathing out heavily through his upturned nose, he marched to the five men and stood over them. The man in the middle began urinating on himself and the man directly to his left shook his head, and under his breath said, “Keep it together man.”
The two men at the far right began to chuckle and then quickly quieted themselves. They turned to one another and through the thick layer of dirt and dried blood, their faces turned a deep shade of red.
Moving away from the now embarrassed man at the center of the group, he lumbered to the two who’d attempted to quiet their laughter. Catching another glimpse of himself in the first floor windows of the UN Building, he nearly flinched. He was again caught off guard by the complete change in his appearance.
The monster staring back at him was no longer Blake Chambers. And although he still remembered his name, not much else from his former self remained. The translucent skin, the swollen sucker lips, the blacked out crevasses that encircled his yellow eyes, everything about who he used to be was gone.
This wasn’t him. He couldn’t understand it, how it happened. But it did, and somewhere deep down inside, he liked it. He now wanted it, he needed it. The mysterious desire to destroy, to assert his physical dominance, had to be released and it needed to happen now.
Twisting back to the two men, Blake grabbed the first by the waist and held him three feet off the ground.
He raised his left arm and used the six-inch talon protruding from the end of his meaty claw-like hand to separate the man’s head from his body.
Looking over the incensed horde, he brought the man’s limp body to his popping sucker lips and began to feed. He tore at the opening above the man’s shoulders and slurped at the mess that he held at the end of his right arm. He was intoxicated with not only the taste, but also the visceral response from his followers.
The crowd that numbered almost one hundred again pounded the abandoned vehicles. They howled under the growing cloud cover and the rain continued to fall as they praised the merciless display of aggression.
As Blake pulled away and slurped one last mouthful, he dropped the decapitated body to the asphalt. The remaining four men now huddled together under his shadow, as the one who’d urinated on himself begged for his life.
“Please, we’ll help you find more. We’ll do anything…please!”
As the man’s voice trailed off and the area fell into silence, Blake looked back toward the north end of 1st Avenue. Through the falling rain, he saw a brief flash of light followed by a short crack. And a fraction of a second later, his right leg began to warm as the translucent skin just below his right knee was peeled back, and the projectile buried itself into the street below. He’d been shot; however, it was only a flesh wound.
— 14 —
The pack traveled as one. They moved quickly up 42nd as two of the more agile Variants led them toward the Bryant Metro Station. Blake was out in front with the headless body of his male victim slung over his right shoulder. And as they approached 6th Avenue, the horde began to slow, looking between the three buildings that framed the massive intersection.
Unaware of why the majority of his group had pulled back before crossing over 6th, he continued toward the entrance to the station. Still carrying the shredded corpse, he stepped up onto the sidewalk and was annoyed to see the man who’d urinated on himself less than an hour before. The man ran out ahead, looked into the stairwell, and then turned back toward Blake.
The man avoided direct eye contact and pointing into the darkness said, “No…not yet, they’re still in there. They’re just waiting for you.”
Blake stared at the man for a moment. He understood the words he was saying, but was having trouble controlling his growing impulse to continue feeding. He dropped the headless body, turned to the three closest Variants, and nodded toward the stairs.
As the trio dropped down onto all fours and rushed by, he grabbed the closest and pointed at the body he’d laid on the sidewalk. The Variant snatched up the body and dragged it to the darkened opening. And as he watched the Variant pick up the awkward bloodied mess and toss it down into the stairwell, another voice—this one much louder and more pronounced—echoed inside his head.
“GO… GO NOW. THAT IS WHERE YOU NEED TO BE. THAT IS YOUR HOME.”
He shook his head and spun quickly to his left and then back to his right. No one was there. No one was speaking. The voice was coming from within his own head, and it wasn’t done.
“GO INTO THAT STATION AND TAKE WHAT IS YOURS. KILL ANYONE WHO STANDS IN YOUR WAY. DO IT NOW.”
The three Variants started slowly into the stairwell. They looked spooked, as if whatever was waiting below was daring them to come forward. They stepped slowly, moving cautiously as they descended out of sight.
Another ten seconds and a tortured shriek boomed from the depths, echoing out into the street. The horde that had moved closer to the stairs slowed. And as the body of one of the Variants rocketed out of the darkness, end over end, like a rag doll being tossed into the air, those closest to the entrance skittered away.
“NOW,” the voice in his head said. “GO NOW AND DESTROY IT!”
As another disturbing howl came from the blacked-out entrance to the Bryant Metro Station, he dropped to all fours and bolted toward the darkness. His hooked talons digging into the concrete, he spat and snorted as he picked up speed. Reaching the steel framed entrance, he galloped through the busted out glass and leapt from the top step.
Blake glided over the long set of stairs, his eyes adjusting quickly to the change in illumination, and as the platform below came into view, he located the source of the Variants’ distressed cries.
Reaching up, he dug his claw into the concrete overhead and slowed himself just enough to drop to the platform and avoid slamming into a sea of unfamiliar Variants. There were more here than on the street above and as he scanned the crowd, he quickly realized that these were not part of his following.
There were four of the barely recognizable beasts holding tight to one of his own. They had the much smaller Variant spread out, each gripping a limb. They were attempting to pull the wailing beast apart. Arms flexed and legs stretched beyond natural limits, the scout he’d sent into the station shrieked in agony.
He stared into the eyes of the four henchmen, staying with each long enough to let them know that this would be their final act. The defiant beasts only howled back, looking to one another and then over their right shoulders. Something or someone lurked near the second set of stairs leading to the tracks below.
As he looked over the horde beyond the four holding his scout, he spotted his third follower—the last to enter the stairwell. It had already met its fate and now lay face-down in a growing pool of its own blood.
Blake pulled back his swollen lips, exposing a jagged set of broken and bloodied teeth and roared at the crowd. As they began to fill in behind one another—now four rows deep—they howled for their four friends to end the standoff. Beating their thick clawed hands into the tiled walls and concrete flooring, they dared Blake to step forward.
He wasn’t afraid, he wanted this. It would be over quickly, either for him or for them, but either way he’d find out in the next few minutes who owned this station, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let the beast hiding near the second set of stairs forget who he was.
Breathing out hard through his nose, Blake exploded away from the bottom step, his right arm extended toward the four holding his scout. As he drew closer to the opposing beasts, he noticed that they were bigger than those who followed him away from the UN Building, most at least a head taller. However, they were also a step slower than his, and as he swung his arm back to center, he ripped through the midsection of two of the henchmen, tearing out their lower intestines and evening the score with one strike.
As the two rival Variants dropped to the ground and Blake continued forward, the crowd quickly parted, revealing the beast lurking by the second set of stairs. Their leader, and the current landlord of this lair, was the biggest thing he’d ever seen. If he had to guess, the behemoth had to have outweighed him by at least sixty to eighty pounds, but again Blake assumed its weight advantage could end up being its downfall.
As the larger Variant stepped away from the railing and lumbered toward him, from somewhere in the deep reaches of his psyche, he was reminded of the story of David and Goliath. And although Blake had become a monster in his own right, this thing now standing twenty feet away was his Goliath.
As the horde opposite him began to back away, he quickly moved left, cornering one of the others. He wrapped his meaty hand around its throat, and with only his right arm, snapped the smaller Variant’s neck. He raised it into the air for the others to see and tossed it at the feet of Goliath.
His larger foe looked down and snarled. It kicked the body aside and turned its shadowed gaze back to Blake. Lowering his shoulder, Goliath moved quickly toward him. As the massive beast dropped to all fours and began to gallop, the tunnel exploded with shrieks of excitement.
As their enthusiasm quickly turned to rage, the horde again turned their attention to Blake. They’d fight their own for the opportunity to take him apart. Each with their yellow slitted eyes focused on the invisible target he wore across his chest. He had come into their home and threatened their leader. Now they wanted to show him why that was a bad idea.
Grossly outnumber
ed, but still determined, he would stand his ground. He would take this place from them. It was already his before he entered the stairwell and he was here to evict a few hundred former tenants. He didn’t care how many of those he had to kill in the process; this station would be his.
As the crowd ahead continued toward him, his attention was pulled to the stairwell at his back. The clicking and popping of joints from those on the street above overpowered the raucous howling from those coming for him.
The comparatively smaller Variants that had chosen to stand with him were now racing down the steps in twos, threes, and fours. They scampered across the walls, moving like awkward spiders rushing around, over, and past him. They hurtled themselves at their larger counterparts without any concern for themselves.
Blake watched as the two groups slammed into one another, bodies on top of bodies, pulling, biting, and slashing. They came at one another with their jagged teeth, hooked claws, and every ounce of aggression they could muster. Thick dark blood was quickly spilled as his smaller, but more agile group of assailants instantly tore through the first line of defense, severing arms, slashing throats, and disemboweling those unfortunate enough to be positioned with their backs to the station wall.
His group appeared more organized, attacking in pairs instead of one on one. It was obvious that this wasn’t their first time battling another group; however, it was the first time they’d battled for him. This looked personal and also like the group had come back here to reclaim their home.
He now knew why he’d been chosen. Why they’d led him here and what this all meant. He was the one that they trusted to take on Goliath. The only one. The massive Variant had run them from their lair and eliminated whoever came before him. Now it was time to show the much larger beast why that was a mistake.
