Then the fear suddenly dissipated. It felt like I lost all my thoughts, my emotions, even the pain I was experiencing earlier. I was overcome by something, probably adrenaline, as I had this massive surge of energy. When those things came after me again, I unloaded everything I had into them. I swung at them repeatedly, each blow disintegrating their faces a little more. The male lunged at me and I swung him around into the wall, smashing its head into it until its blood painted the bricks. I barely felt the other biting into the back of my shoulder as I continued to turn the first’s head into a bag of crushed bones. He fell down into a pile on himself, twitching a little.
Meanwhile the female’s teeth were firmly attached to my shoulder, and I yanked on her hair and slammed her to the ground face-first; before she could get up I stepped on the back of her neck with all the strength I could, only satisfied when I heard a deep snap. I still felt the rush, and in a way I actually felt… good. Like I’d satisfied some primal urge.
I looked around to see if there were any others nearby, but the only thing I saw was my reflection in one of the windows. But what I saw wasn’t me. I looked no better than the monsters ravaging downtown Dallas. I was covered in blood, a chunk of skin missing from the back of my shoulder where the crazy bitch had bitten me, and I saw where she had sliced into my face. The gash ran deep; it trailed from the middle of my right check, up across the bridge of my nose, barely missing my left eye, and ending just above the left eyebrow. The wound was pouring blood, some of it dripping into my eye, but most of it down my nose and cheeks.
That didn’t even bother me as much as the smile. To this day I can’t figure it out. I had this strange grin on my face, as my blood seeped into the corners of my mouth and stained my teeth. I looked like a goddamned homicidal maniac, like I’d gotten off on killing those things. The sight scared me almost as much as everything combined over those last few hours, or however long it was.
The rush lowered in intensity, and I felt the pain from the shoulder bite building up quickly. I knew I couldn’t have been too far from home, and I kept hoping that Danielle was safe.
I kept getting more and more dizzy as I got closer to home. Truthfully I don't completely remember the trip, all I know is that the torturous pangs in my body were getting worse and it made it near impossible to concentrate. Call it instinct, intuition or whatever you want; I still ended up on the right path. It took a lot of effort for me to recognize where I was going – I guess that fight messed me up worse than I was aware of. It didn't matter, nothing did. It didn't help that I was also starving; the only thing I ate that morning was a bowl of cheap cereal, and it had been hours since then.
I had to keep dodging the craziness that was breaking out around me. There was no way to know when the freaks would show up around a corner, or come out of a building in a swarm; there was just no way to predict what they would do. Animals are a hell of a lot more predictable than these bloodthirsty things. A few scratched at me as I ran, and I slammed into another one while maneuvering around cars and other bodies.
I felt like I was heartless at times; I lost count of how often I spotted an innocent person being chased, attacked and killed at the hands of the red-eyed crazies. There was too much going on, and not enough time to do anything. Maybe I was being selfish, since the only life I cared about saving was my sister's. Then again, I'm sure a lot of other people were thinking the same thing.
All the crap that happened earlier – the woman being attacked, Jason acting like a nutjob, the entire city going psychotic, being nearly killed a dozen times that whole trip, getting my face disfigured – I realized none of it mattered... as long as Danielle was safe.
Finally... the entrance to my neighborhood. The decrepit project section on the outskirts of Dallas never felt more welcoming, despite the creeps that lived there. I sighed in partial relief, though the heavy breath made my chest ache again. By that point I was dripping in my own blood and caked in dirt and sweat. My throat was parched, my head felt like it was caving in, my feet were throbbing and my stomach was screaming. The street itself was relatively quiet, if you could ignore the sirens, screams and chaos of the miles I'd just traveled. My vision blurred even more and I couldn't focus more than a few feet in front of me.
With the heat still bearing down, I tried running down the street to the next crosswalk where I had to turn left, and from there it was only a few houses up. It was more of a stagger than a run; the little energy I had left was bleeding out along with the rest of my body.
There it was – the crappy house I had to practically crawl on my knees to get. The fact that I made it gave me enough strength to clamor up the two steps, unhook the keys from my belt and unlock the door.
...Then the pain surged unimaginably. My chest practically imploded, my heart pounded uncontrollably, faster and stronger than it ever had, and my arms and legs numbed. I screamed out, convinced it was a heart attack. As I collapsed, I began convulsing – it seemed that pulses of lighting were coursing through me, immobilizing me.
Three
It was painful to open my eyes, the light burned my vision. The haze over them soon cleared as I rolled over facing away from the sun. The door was open, and there was the faint odor of something sweet emanating from inside, and a slight breeze of lowered temperature. My stomach cramped as I felt jolts of adrenaline stabbing me. I struggled to push my body up, my breath ragged and shallow. As soon as I reached my feet, the blood rush hit my head, dizzying me for a minute. I regained myself and I felt even more cramping – I was starving. The smell hit me again, drifting hypnotically through the air.
I stepped inside, kicking over the keys that had fallen from my grasp. I didn't think to close the door; I was barely aware of the door. The interior was darker and cooler than the outside, the blinds were drawn and the buzz of the window air conditioner droned in my ears.
Silhouetted against the kitchen light was the outline of a young girl. She sat with her back turned toward me, perched motionless on the sofa.
The hunger became intoxicating as I moved toward her. The odor was much stronger now, with a slight acidic undertone. I felt my foot kick against something on the floor but she showed no reaction to it.
I made no effort to be silent. I lunged forward with ease and grabbed a handful of her hair, which made her shriek in fear. I stopped for a moment, startled by her outburst. She panicked and flailed against my grip, screaming something incoherent. She turned her face toward mine, and the look of fear turned to surprise; her eyes glossed over and a whimper escaped her throat. Shakily she extended one of her hands, her thumb curled into the palm and all four fingers pressed together, and pressed it against her forehead first, then her chest, then to her other hand closed into a fist.
I somewhat recognized the sign, and I held still trying to process what occurred. There was something in the back of my mind, clawing to get out. A frightened voice not unlike my own urged me to let go of the girl. I didn't understand the words, only the feeling behind them.
Then it disappeared, and I was hungry again.
Four
I woke up much later, feeling like I had suffered a massive case of hangover. I was weak, dehydrated, dazed and my head throbbed. A bright light seared my eyes, piercing into the already existing headache. The light moved away suddenly, and I made out a few shadows behind the background light of wherever I was. There was a faint rhythmic beep in the distance.
A few voices trickled through, muffled at first but then they formed into words, most of them too big for me to understand. I felt a gloved hand against my forehead, and in my stupor I jerked away from the touch, only to aggravate the pounding even more.
A picture appeared in my head of me struggling to reach the door of my house, seeing my clothes covered in blood – it hit so fast it almost physically hurt me to think about. I winced, the aching in my body becoming much more pronounced, and I became intensely aware of the fact that there were wires connected to various parts of me.
The hand returned, followed by an older man's voice. “It's all right, son. You're safe. Nod your head if you understand me.”
Though I was still confused, I did in fact understand him. I think it was just the uncertainty of what was going on, but I didn't exactly feel like I was in danger. I gave a small nod.
“Good,” he said. “Now I'm going to raise up part of the bed so you can sit up.”
The light hum of a machine started, and I felt my head and back being bent upward slowly. I was still extremely dizzy, and I realized how much my throat was hurting.
Nearby I heard a woman talking: “His vitals look good, Doctor.”
“Excellent,” the man responded. “We'll do a few more tests to make sure everything checks out, but so far he's looking good.”
I didn't know what kind of tests they were talking about. I vaguely spied the doctor scribbling something on a piece of paper on a small table next to me. I didn't feel like moving, but when I looked down, I noticed my wrists were bound with heavy straps. I tried to yell for help, but all that game out was a raspy grunt, causing my throat to hurt more.
“Take it easy,” the doctor said calmly. “It's been a while since you've been normal, you need to rest for a bit longer. My name is Dr. Scott, and this is Gracie.” He pointed at the nurse.
I barely glanced at them; I wasn't sure what he meant by “normal,” but I willed myself to stay calm. My mind raced; I had the words, but there was difficulty saying them. It was as if I'd forgotten how to physically talk. I tried anyway, speaking slowly. “Why... am I... tied down...?” My voice sounded as if it had gone through a paper shredder – I almost jumped hearing it. The aching began to fade, and the beeping of what I assumed was a heart monitor slowed to a steadier pace.
“When you were waking up, you were seizing,” Dr. Scott explained, removing the latex gloves and disposing of them. “In fact, it was the fourth episode. To be frank, we didn't think you would survive the process.”
I was as confused as ever. “What... process...?”
The pictures returned again in pieces. The mass of chaos, the red-eyed freaks that were terrorizing the people, my witnessing the possible downfall of the city... Danielle. “Where... where is my... sister? Her name is... Danielle. She's 13, long brown hair, brown eyes... deaf.”
Both of their heads sank a little.
“We don't know,” Gracie sighed. “You were found alone.”
I felt my eyes watering, confronted with the possibility that she was hurt too. Then again, maybe she was still alive, if I could get back home somehow and check on her.
Dr. Scott approached me and I managed to focus on him, but I was once again shocked as my attention focused on his eyes. The whites weren't white, but a clouded dark gray, just like the lunatics, and the irises glowed brightly – except they weren't red, they were sky blue.
I think he picked up that I was looking at him funny. “I understand,” he assured me, “everything will be explained to you once you're rested and recovering.” He undid my wrist restraints, followed by the feet, while Gracie took off the wires from my head and chest. He looked up and gave me an odd look, like he was both relieved and concerned at the same time, which doesn't seem possible.
“Gracie will help you to your bed, and I will come check on you in a bit,” he said.
She helped me turn to the side and sit up. When I looked at her, she had the same weird eyes that Dr. Scott did.
“I promise you will know everything that's going on,” Dr. Scott repeated. “Welcome back to humanity.”
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*****
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Downfall #2
Kellie's Diary: Book 4
End of the Road Page 28
