Colony of the Lost

by Derik Cavignano

  Give him another hour. Then he’ll be crawling around on all fours, singing sailor songs and hitting Sarah and me up for money.

  He glanced out the window. Sirens warbled in the distance. “I don’t think we can stay here much longer. Trell knows where we live.”

  “Where do you suggest we go?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Anywhere. At least until we figure this out.”

  Jay nodded. “You’re probably right. We need to buy more time.”

  Sarah wiped her eyes. “What about Daddy?”

  “We’ll find out how he is,” Jay said. “I promise.”

  She sniffled. “And Mommy?”

  Jay crouched down beside her. “The only way we can help her is by killing Trell. And to do that we need to get out of here for awhile.”

  “Okay,” Sarah said. “But I’m scared.”

  “So am I. We all are. But we won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

  “Should we leave tonight?” Tim asked.

  “The sooner the better,” Jay said.

  “All right. I’m just going to run to my house real quick and grab some things.” He paused when he reached the door. “I’ll call Maria too. Tell her we’ll swing by her house.”

  “Okay,” Jay said. “Hurry back. And be careful.”

  ***

  The phone rang a moment after Tim closed the door, making Jay and Sarah both jump. Jay grabbed it before it could ring again, and was surprised to hear Crystal’s voice.

  “I don’t want to give you the wrong idea by calling, but you still have a lot of my stuff at your house.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’m coming over tonight to get the rest of my things.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “It’s ten o’clock.”

  “So? Am I interrupting your beauty sleep?”

  “Tonight’s not very good for me.”

  “Dare I ask why?”

  “Cut it out, Crystal. Just come by in the morning.”

  “I won’t have a chance in the morning. I’m coming over now.”

  “Crystal—”

  But it was too late—she’d already hung up.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Murdock had just pulled away from the Glenwood Country Inn when the radio squawked on the dash. The dispatcher’s voice cut through the static. “Potential homicide. 102 Pennybrook Road.”

  Christ! Here we go again.

  He pinned the pedal to the floor, and the Impala’s tires screeched against the pavement, belching smoke into the air. The car raced down the blackened stretch of road, the sound of the revving engine loud in his ears.

  He snatched the CB from the dash and asked for the name of the officer calling in the report.

  The dispatcher rustled through some paper. “Officer Andrews.”

  Murdock strangled the steering wheel. “Andrews is supposed to be covering nine South Maple. Tell him to get his ass back over there!”

  The Impala careened around the corner and barreled into the straightaway. Murdock floored the accelerator and the car surged forward. “Come on, come on.” He veered onto Elm Street and the car fishtailed across the double yellow line, coming within inches of slamming into an eighteen-wheeler.

  He had to get to Gallagher’s house, had to get there fast.

  Maybe he didn’t realize Andrews left. Maybe he’s passed out drunk.

  But all Murdock kept picturing was Gallagher fleeing the scene, his only suspect getting away.

  “The hell he will.” He flicked a switch and the sirens screamed to life. The car shot like a bullet down the street.

  ***

  The thing that was not quite Lenny Archibald shambled in the moonlight. Its destination loomed in the distance, the windows of the house glowing with bright yellow light. It could smell the three inside and knew that they were to die—the Dark One had commanded it.

  It stalked toward the house with Randy’s gun cradled loosely in its hand. When it spotted a figure lurking near the walkway, it raised the gun and pulled the trigger.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The stomp of footsteps announced a visitor on the front porch, and before Jay could even peek through the blinds, a key slipped into the lock and the door swung open.

  Crystal’s eyes swept the room. “From the way you acted on the phone, I would have thought you changed the locks.”

  “Hello Crystal.” He tried to sound annoyed, but didn’t really succeed.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll only be a few minutes. I just need the rest of my clothes.”

  “You shouldn’t have come here, Crystal.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  The flush of the toilet drew both of their glances.

  Crystal arched an eyebrow. “And who might that be?”

  Before he could answer, Sarah emerged from the bathroom, her eyes still red from all the crying.

  “Sarah,” he said, softly. “This is Crystal.”

  “Hi,” Sarah said, and dropped her gaze to the floor. She was trying so hard to be tough. The poor kid had just watched her mom stab her dad and somehow she was holding it together.

  Crystal grabbed Jay by the arm and pulled him out of earshot. “What’s a little girl doing here all alone with you?”

  He could see by the look in her eyes that she thought the worst. Christ, how could she? After all these years? “Come on. You know better than—”

  A gunshot sliced through his words.

  “Jay, what—”

  The door flew open and Tim collapsed onto the floor, his eyes wide with shock.

  Jay rushed over to him. “Tim! Are you okay? What happened?”

  “Lock the door! Hurry!”

  Jay scurried crab-like across the floor and slammed the door shut.

  “Someone shot a cop,” Tim said. “I think I was next.”

  Jay blinked at him. “You weren’t hit?”

  “No.”

  Crystal clutched Jay’s arm. “What’s happening?”

  “We’re getting out of here.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He thought about the LeBaron rusting in the driveway and wondered if it would start. “We’ll need your car.”

  “My car? What do you mean? We can’t go outside! Are you crazy?”

  “Listen to me. We have to get out of here. If we don’t, we’re going to die.”

  “But the police will—”

  “The police can’t protect us from what’s out there.”

  Crystal turned to Tim for confirmation, saw him nod, and didn’t say another word.

  “All right,” Jay said. “Good. Did you park in the driveway?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  “Which way?” Tim asked.

  “Through the cellar. It’s got a door leading to the driveway.”

  “But what if whoever shot the cop is waiting outside?” Crystal asked.

  “If it’s still out there,” Jay said, “it’ll probably come through the front door or the back door.”

  Crystal raised an eyebrow. “Why do you keep saying ‘it’?”

  Jay ignored the question and stalked to the cellar door in a crouch. He held it open and waved them all forward. “We’ll keep the lights off. I don’t want it to know we’re down there.”

  The old boards creaked beneath their feet as they descended into darkness. In a few moments, they stood on the concrete floor of his dungeon-like cellar. It smelled damp and musty, as if rainwater had leaked through the foundation.

  “Stay close,” Jay said. “And watch out for low pipes.” He scanned the darkness for any sign of Trell. It could be anywhere down here. Lying in wait, its red eyes closed until the moment of attack.

  He led them through what felt like an ancient crypt, navigating around a maze of boxes, tools, and lawn furniture. They arrived at the door an eternity later, and as Jay struggled with the reluctant slide bolt, the ceiling came alive with
the sound of pounding footfalls.

  Sarah let out a whimper.

  “It’s alright,” Crystal said. “Just stay quiet.”

  Jay drew the gun from the waistband of his jeans and cracked open the door. A slant of light from a nearby street lamp filtered through the gap. He glanced back at the others and saw that Crystal held the car keys in her hand. “Ready?” he asked.

  They all nodded.

  “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  They hurried into the driveway, sand grating beneath their shoes. A strong wind gusted at their backs as the frenzied music of his neighbor’s wind chime carried through the night.

  A car screeched to a halt in the street.

  Crystal unlocked the doors to her car.

  The screen door flew open with a crash. A kid with spiky blond hair charged down the length of the porch, laughing and screaming in turn.

  Jay raised the .45 and waved them forward. “Get in!”

  “FBI! Hold it right there!”

  Jay didn’t even glance in the direction of the man in the street.

  The kid leveled a gun at him, and Jay dove to the ground just as the kid fired. The bullet struck the pavement and sprayed jagged bits of concrete into the air.

  The engine roared to life behind him. He tucked into a ball and rolled to the other side of the car. When he stood, he saw the kid standing at the edge of the porch, the muzzle of the gun pointed right at him.

  He had time only to think, That’s Lenny Archibald from 2nd period Geometry.

  And then the gun went off with a thunderous roar. The bullet whined past his shoulder, so close he felt the breeze as it sliced through the air. Blue-gray smoke billowed from the muzzle of Lenny’s gun, curling into the air in lazy tendrils. Through its hazy screen, he watched Lenny’s eyes grow wide and his body jerk back as another shot rang out from the street. A circle of blood formed on Lenny’s tee-shirt and spread in all directions like a blooming rose.

  Jay yanked open the door and jumped into the passenger seat as Lenny doubled over the porch railing and fell face first into the driveway. Crystal shifted into reverse and stomped on the accelerator. The car screamed out of the driveway.

  Murdock holstered his gun and climbed into a black Chevy.

  “What’s happening, Jay? Who was that?”

  The car barreled down the narrow street at better than sixty miles per hour.

  Blue flashers kicked on behind them. Murdock’s car was a quarter of a mile back, but gaining fast.

  Crystal applied the brakes.

  “No!” Jay shouted. “Don’t stop!”

  “But it’s a cop.” She began edging over to the side of the road.

  “Listen to me, Crystal. Do not stop this car.”

  “He’s right,” Tim said. “We need to keep moving.”

  “What’s wrong with you guys? It’s just a—”

  Something huge darted from the shadows and rushed past the passenger window.

  Sarah screamed.

  “What was—”

  It landed on the roof with a crash, its massive weight pulling the car to the right. The roof buckled inward, and the four of them ducked their heads and screamed as the car swerved across the road.

  “Get it off! Get it off!”

  Trell’s claws pierced through the roof, and metal groaned as a strip of steel tore back like an old pop-top.

  Jay kicked off a shoe and smacked it against Trell’s claws.

  “What are you doing?” Tim yelled. “It’s not a bug!”

  “You got any better ideas?”

  “Yeah, shoot it!”

  He’d completely forgotten about his dad’s .45. But where was it? He glanced down and saw it slide under the seat—just out of reach—as Crystal swerved onto the shoulder.

  “Do something!” Crystal shouted.

  “Buckle your seatbelts!” Jay grabbed the wheel from Crystal and yanked it to the left. The car veered across the double yellow line and ran Murdock off the road just before striking a tree at twenty miles per hour.

  The car hit the tree with a sickening crunch that sent them all rocking forward. The air bags deployed, then rapidly deflated. Steam rose from the Volvo’s crumpled front end in billowing clouds.

  Jay glanced at the roof and could see pinpricks of stars through the holes that Trell’s claws had made. “I think it’s gone,” he said. “Everyone okay? Crystal, can you back up?”

  But she didn’t seem to hear him. She just stared forward, her eyes vacant.

  “Crystal! Get us out of here!”

  Something rustled in the woods nearby.

  “Hurry,” Sarah said, pressing her head against Tim’s chest.

  Crystal shook herself out of a daze and pressed down on the gas. The tires spun, but the car didn’t move.

  “I hate to point out the obvious,” Tim said, “but it’s coming … and I’m guessing it’s pissed.”

  Crystal mumbled something to herself, shifted into reverse, and stomped on the accelerator.

  At first the car refused to move, refused to budge even an inch. But then the RPM gauge climbed higher, the tires dug in, and the front bumper slipped free of its embrace with the tree.

  The car shot back with a sudden jolt, zoomed into the street, and almost veered off onto the other shoulder before Crystal jammed it into drive and peeled off down the road.

  And as the car raced into the darkness of night, leaving Murdock’s Chevy lying on its roof in a ditch, tires still spinning, Jay hoped that the agent’s death would be quick.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  She ran.

  Under a violet sky flecked with twinkling stars.

  Fleeing the world. Fleeing herself.

  But these horrors she couldn’t escape.

  A slant of moonlight shone through the canopy and fell upon her. Tears blurred her vision. Leaves crunched beneath her racing feet.

  Maybe she could break free of its power, run far enough to sever the chains that bound her. But as she ran, she could hear its laugher, its awful voice calling to her through this blackest of nights.

  Evil.

  Inside her. All around her.

  Evil.

  Controlling her mind. Controlling her body. Leaving memories like fingerprints.

  Do you feel it, Margaret? Can you see it?

  She weaved through a maze of trees, tearing through a forest cloaked in shadows. A vision appeared in her mind, and she watched herself plunge a butcher knife into Nick’s stomach. She could feel his blood—hot and slippery—flowing over the back of her hand.

  A stitch burned in her side, and she drew her breath in shallow gasps. But she continued to run…because she didn’t know what else to do. Didn’t know where else to go.

  And still the memories came. Parading before her eyes, one after the other. Haunting visions that should have driven her insane, but would not.

  I won’t let you go crazy, Margaret. I won’t let you take the easy way out.

  And then her mind brought her back to that dark place, the place where the horror began.

  ***

  She could feel cold emanating from slick black walls, could hear water dripping in muted plops, could feel wetness seeping through her paper-thin cotton nightgown.

  Where am I? How did I get here?

  She drew a deep breath and collected herself, gaining her feet with the aid of a slime-coated boulder. Its touch sent a shiver through her body.

  Water rippled behind her, and she whirled in the direction of the sound.

  A creature rose from the depths of the pool, water beading off its massive head. Ribbons of moisture spouted from its flaring nostrils and sparkled in the phosphorescent light.

  She screamed in terror, the sound echoing throughout the cavern.

  The thing before her uttered a guttural laugh. Its eyes fixed upon her, forced her to walk forward. Commanding her to move against her will.

  She suddenly remembered having seen the creature before, remembered it looming over
her in the backyard, the lid to a trash can dangling loosely in her hand.

  The black goo. Sinking into her eyes.

  And then she lay down on the cold stone and spreads her legs apart.

  The creature climbed out of the churning water. Are you ready for me, Margaret?

  ***

  “Make it stop. Please, God.”

  But if God was listening, He didn’t make His presence known. Her world was one of darkness now, and as she ran through the maze of towering trees, she feared she would never again see the light, never again be free.

  I won’t let it control me anymore. I won’t let it make me do those horrible things.

  But from somewhere inside her mind, the voice of the Dark One spoke to her.

  Don’t do it for me, Margaret. Do it ... for the baby.

  And then something slipped inside of her. A thread of sanity snapped like piano wire. She grabbed a large branch from the ground, intending to murder the life within her. But an unseen force seized control of the branch, and instead of striking her in the womb, blow after blow smashed into her face until she saw the world through a bloody haze.

  Her foot caught beneath a log and she fell headlong into the dirt. She scrambled back to her feet and ran. And as she ran, the voice inside her laughed.

  And laughed.

  And laughed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The world spun. Around and over and under. Metal crumpled and groaned. Glass shattered, rained down like glittering jewels.

  How many times had the car flipped? Murdock wasn’t sure he knew, wasn’t even sure how it’d happened. His mind was cloudy. It was hard to think.

  Dust hovered in the ruined interior. He hung suspended upside down, his head just inches from the roof. Both windshields had blown out on impact, the weight of the car collapsing the roof, blocking any chance of escape through the windows.

  The driver’s side door then.

  He clicked on the dome light—surprised to find that it still worked—and scanned the door to see if it got smashed shut. But it looked okay. The only thing that seemed out of place was a strip of steel molding encased in vinyl, the tip of which had curled toward him. A droplet of blood glistened on the molding. He touched the steel tip and his fingers came away bloody.