No Refuge from the Dead
Page 5
With knife in hand, Cliff rushed the monster. He was careful to avoid the long spikes jutting from the creature’s spine and stabbed at a soft spot in the Skull’s neck. The wound let loose a torrent of blood, but the Skull still writhed and flailed. One of the monster’s arms flung back and slammed into Cliff’s chest.
The air rushed from his lungs. Pain scorched through his ribs. He tried to inhale, but all he felt was agony.
“Cliff!” Jason yelled.
He raised the pole to hammer the Skull. The beast caught the pole then shoved it and Jason backward. It turned its attention toward Cliff once more. He struggled to stand, his feet slipping out from under him.
Sage threw herself in front of Cliff. Her fur stood on end, and she barked. By the way she was standing, Cliff never would’ve known Sage had been injured only an hour or so ago. The shepherd was ready to give everything she had to protect him.
Cliff wouldn’t let his dog—his best friend—sacrifice herself like this. He pushed himself to his feet, pain still coursing through his ribs, and lunged forward with the knife. He drove it into the Skull’s throat then planted a foot into the monster’s chest, kicking it backward.
The Skull smashed against the barricade of bookshelves.
From his sheath, Cliff took another arrow then recovered his bow and shot his missile straight into the Skull’s open mouth. The Skull no longer writhed.
“Help me with the bookshelves,” Cliff said. It still pained him to breathe. He took hold of one corner of the first bookshelf as Jason took a second. They twisted the shelves enough to squeeze into the hallway behind them. Sage slunk in after.
At the end of the hallway were three doors. Two led to bathrooms, and the other was marked “Maintenance Closet.” Cliff could hear voices behind those doors. Human voices. And in front of them stood the park ranger, still clad in his green uniform, albeit stained in blood and dirt, no doubt from his failed trek outside the Center.
“Amos!” Jason called. “I’m back. I got help, and we got the SUV.”
It took only a fraction of a second for them to realize Amos was no longer human.
-8-
It made sense. The ranger, Amos, had ventured outside the center to retrieve the SUV. Cliff could see it now. The man probably got scratched by a Skull. Maybe just a little thing. Nothing he’d normally worry about. After all, he had made it back here alive.
Then he had turned.
Cliff had no idea what that process was like. Maybe it happened agonizingly slowly. Maybe it happened almost instantaneously. A switch was flipped, and you were a Skull.
Amos’s eyes glowed red. His nails had begun to sharpen into claws, and his skin was ashen. The bones weren’t yet protruding from his skin, and he still looked mostly human compared to the monsters they’d run into outside.
But judging from the man’s crinkled nose as he snarled and the way he hunched over, appearing ready to pounce on prey, there was no doubt in Cliff’s mind the man’s brain had already been hijacked.
“Amos?” Jason tried again, pathetically hopeful.
Cliff sent an arrow through Amos’s chest before the man could charge. A fresh Skull, he apparently hadn’t had time to grow out the bulwarked ribs or bony plates. The arrow pierced his chest, and the ranger collapsed.
“He’s gone,” Cliff said, pulling the arrow from Amoss’ heart.
Jason stood frozen for a moment before Cliff pushed him forward.
Sage jumped over Amos’s body. She pressed her nose against one of the bathroom doors, her tail wagging. She whined then barked.
“What is it, girl?” Cliff asked.
“Rachel! Mark! Liz!” Jason called, shaking himself from his stupor. “I’m back. I’ve got help. We’re going to make it.”
“Jason?” a female voice asked hesitantly.
“Liz!” Jason said. He tried the door handle. It didn’t budge.
“Is that... is that really you?” another young woman asked.
“It is,” Jason said.
There was another chorus of howls outside. This time, it sounded as though the Skulls had cleared the bridge. Cliff glanced through one of the gift-shop windows. A Skull was prowling around the SUV like a cat searching for a mouse.
“We need to leave,” Cliff said.
“You aren’t like Amos, are you?” a masculine voice asked. Probably Mark.
Cliff had half a mind to leave without them. He understood their hesitation, but that didn’t stop the Skulls from accumulating outside. And besides, his ribs still hurt with every breath he took. He wasn’t about to spend his morning trying to convince these people to leave while he struggled to fight off more Skulls.
“We need to leave now!” Cliff said.
“I’m fine, and so is the guy who saved our asses, man,” Jason said, “but we won’t be if you don’t move. Now!”
“But—” Mark started.
“This guy and his dog almost died for us,” Jason interrupted. “The least you can do is get in the SUV now and let him drive us to Kent.”
Cliff was beginning to like the kid.
The door burst open. Three twenty-somethings stood there in sweatshirts and jeans stained with blood and dirt, their hair greasy and matted, their faces wan. Sage jumped between them, greeting the trio as if they had arrived to play.
“Cliff’s the guy that’s getting us to Kent,” Jason said. “He saved my life, and he’s about to save yours. Do what he says.”
“Follow me,” Cliff said. His head started hurting. Maybe a migraine creeping into existence. He suffered from those every once in a while, and they were debilitating enough to send him home, rendering him useless for a day or so. Usually happened in times of stress. Now was a terrible time to be getting one of those killer headaches.
Through the burgeoning pain, he led the group through the carnage of the gift shop and out into the parking lot. A few of the Skulls gathered there turned their direction.
“When I say go, you run for the SUV,” Cliff said. “But wait for my word.”
The new additions to the group appeared ready to sprint at the first sight of a Skull. Four of the bastards circled the still-running SUV. One spotted the group and reared back. Cliff let an arrow fly straight at the bastard. The arrow landed squarely in the creature’s face. He shot another for good measure, and the Skull slumped.
A second and third came charging at the group next.
“Hold your ground,” Cliff growled. He got off two arrows.
The first missed its target. But the second flew true, plunging into a Skull’s neck. The monster reached them, but Jason swung his pole, sending the beast off balance. Cliff reached for another arrow. His hand came away from the quiver empty. He dropped the bow to his side then unsheathed his knife, turning his attention on the third Skull.
Sage lunged, grabbing hold of its wrist and tearing. Jason and Cliff killed it with a maelstrom of knife strikes before charging at the final monster. It didn’t stand a chance against the furious trio. It went down with a bloodcurdling howl.
“Now!” Cliff yelled. “Inside!”
The others rushed into the SUV, piling into the back with Sage squeezing in at their feet. Cliff threw the vehicle into drive. Skulls continued trickling over the bridge. Some, with legs devastated from their previous trip across, pulled themselves across the pavement, leaving a bloody trail behind them.
But it didn’t matter now. They were on the road away from here. They would make it to Kent. Before the trees blocked his view, he saw the Visitor Center now crawling with Skulls, all intent on finding the meal that had just escaped.
Sage rested her head on the console between Cliff and Jason. She let out a whimper.
Cliff scratched behind her ears. “You’ve been a very good girl, Sage. A very good girl.”
“Hell of a dog, man,” Jason said. “Thanks again. To you and Sage. I know you didn’t have to. But I appreciate it. I really do.”
Murmurs of affirmation echoed from the back.
As they drove, the tentative oranges and yellows of dawn gave way to clear blue skies. Skulls still roamed the roadways. Cliff was forced to drive off road to avoid a few pileups, which slowed their progress. But all the same, they were growing closer to what might be their salvation.
So why didn’t he feel any better about it?
His headache was growing worse, and the pain in his ribs hadn’t subsided. Maybe he’d broken something. He probed his shirt where the Skull had knocked into him back in the visitor center.
His stomach flipped.
He felt a slight wetness. He looked down. On his black shirt, under his jacket, there was a wet sheen.
Blood. Oh, God.
Maybe he’d scratched himself on the wreckage in the gift shop. Or maybe it was from a piece of glass.
But as they continued onward, the headache grew worse. Sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging. Sage continued her periodic worried whining, licking his elbow. The idle, nervous chatter between Jason and his friends about what Kent might be like was inexplicably driving him mad. He wanted to slam on the brakes and tell them all to shut the hell up.
His muscles tremored, and the pain in his chest spread to his joints. His eyes felt ready to explode from their sockets.
He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to leave the vehicle. Had to.
Not because the others were pissing him off, though they were infuriating him to no end.
But he knew what would happen if he stayed with them. He’d grow angrier, and the pain would explode into a relentless force he could no longer control. Sage would try to comfort him, wondering what was wrong as she looked at him with that crooked-eared, dopey expression she was so good at, never realizing the danger unfolding before her.
Cliff tried to control his breathing. His fingers shook, and his jaw tensed. His vision started to blur, wavering in and out. Everything appeared to be coated in crimson shadows. The sounds of the engine rumbling and the others chatting hammered his eardrums.
He slammed on the brakes.
“What the hell, man?” Jason asked.
Sage licked Cliff’s face. Cliff recoiled. He couldn’t stand it any longer.
“I’m leaving,” he managed through gritted teeth.
“I’m sorry, man. Did we do something? We’re almost there.”
“No... no...” Cliff said. “I’m not going with you. I do things alone... and I’ll continue to do them alone. That’s how it should be.”
Sage whined, sensing something was wrong. Cliff stepped out of the car, and Sage tried to follow.
“No!” Cliff roared.
Sage cowered, tail between her legs.
“Hold Sage back,” Cliff said gruffly to Jason.
“Come on,” Jason said, holding Sage’s collar. “Kent’s not too far, and you’ll die out there.”
Cliff’s arms shook. He wanted to tear Jason apart. He managed to control himself, then lifted his shirt, revealing the bleeding scratch. “If I go with you, I’ll kill you.”
And Sage.
“Shit,” Jason said. His eyes fell to the ground. Sage tried to get out of Jason’s grip. “Maybe, maybe they have a cure or something on Kent. If we get there, maybe they can help you.”
He didn’t sound as though he believed the words. Cliff didn’t, either. Besides, he didn’t think he could make it. He started to walk away then turned back, marching toward the car. Sage leapt from Jason’s grip, sprinted over the asphalt, and pressed herself against Cliff.
Sage licked Cliff’s face, whining all the while.
“I’m sorry,” Cliff said. “It’s time to say goodbye.”
Clashing thoughts of simultaneously attacking and embracing Sage warred in his mind. It took every bit of mental fortitude he had left to simply rub behind Sage’s ears then stagger off.
“Now, go,” Cliff said. “Go with them. Be a good girl.”
Sage didn’t leave Cliff’s side.
“Go!”
Jason slipped out of the car and tried to wrangle Sage, but she wriggled from his grip once again. Cliff could feel his grip on reality slipping as his vision tunneled. But he still had a semblance of his mind residing in there.
He crouched next to Sage, stroking her fur coat. He started humming in Sage’s ear to settle her. There was only one tune that seemed fitting. He tried to sing Andrea Bocelli’s version of “Time to Say Goodbye” in English.
A voice in his head urged him to hunt and attack and devour. He pushed it aside as long as possible until he feared he could take the power of the blind rage no longer. He shoved Sage away.
“Take her!” he roared to Jason.
The kid scooped up Sage and jumped back into the SUV. He said something to Cliff, but words no longer made sense. Jason closed the door and took off.
As the SUV bobbed along the wreckage-strewn road and voices bellowed in Cliff’s mind, he stared at the furry face pressed against the rear window.
It’s time to say goodbye...
Cliff hoped Sage would live a better life than him. That was all that mattered now. He tried to take solace in imagining Sage at Kent, running free on the shore, cavorting with other dogs and people.
But it didn’t make him feel better. Something else gnawed at his barely lucid mind. A considerable laceration had changed him in a matter of minutes. But what about Sage, whose mouth had been wrapped tightly around one of those Skull’s wrists? A small scratch in the roof her mouth might not be noticeable. He hadn’t thought to check her mouth after this run-in with the Skulls.
And that whimpering in the car... had it been because she was worried about him? Or something else?
Maybe she was infected, too. No, he couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe it. Her life had to turn out better than his.
Cliff’s chest heaved. Anger flowed through him more powerful than any surge of adrenaline. Pain exploded behind his eyes.
The world turned red.
THE END
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed this short story from The Tide universe. If you haven’t read The Tide, you can start with Book 1 here: http://amzn.to/2FeuFq3
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About the Author
Anthony J Melchiorri is a scientist with a PhD in bioengineering. Originally from the Midwest, he now lives in Texas. By day, he develops cellular therapies and 3D-printable artificial organs. By night, he writes apocalyptic, medical, and science-fiction thrillers that blend real-world research with other-worldly possibility. When he isn't in the lab or at the keyboard, he spends his time running, reading, hiking, and traveling in search of new story ideas.
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