The Devil's Fingers

by Hunter Shea

  “I’ll go,” Seth said. Tina shook her head furiously, clinging to him. “I’m already toast. It won’t matter if there are a million of those Devil’s Fingers in my way.”

  Latrell said what they were all thinking. “Who knows if you’ll be able to walk the three miles before, you know…”

  “I will. I have to get someone up here to help Tina. I’ve been hiking all my life. This trail is nothing.”

  “Yeah, but those things aren’t nothing,” Latrell said.

  Seth glanced down at the mega-pod on his stomach. “They’re going to have to be until I get us out of here.”

  While Latrell and Brandon tried to talk Seth out of going, one word kept going round and round in Autumn’s head: Contagion.

  If Seth, as infected as he was—and it would only get worse—was to come in contact with people from the town, how long would it be until the altered Clathrus archeri poisoned everyone? And how long until it swarmed the next town, and the next?

  “No, Seth, you stay here. Latrell and I can do it.”

  “And if it gets to you, too?” Seth said.

  We’ll have to turn around and make sure you don’t try it yourself, she thought.

  What she said was, “We’ll be very careful. There’s no other option.”

  She unscrewed the cap from the water she’d taken earlier and downed half the bottle. Her stomach cramped for a few seconds. Once it unclenched, she polished off the rest.

  Latrell grabbed a lantern, turning it on to make sure it still worked.

  “You ready?”

  “Yep,” she replied, her mind working at a million miles an hour.

  “Someone’s coming,” Brandon said.

  “Huh?” Latrell said.

  It was impossible to hide sound in the still campsite. Autumn heard heavy, rapid footsteps and the crash of tall, dry grass. Whoever it was, they were running pretty hard.

  She saw the creature as it tore along the lake’s shore.

  Tina choked out a muffled scream.

  A bipedal nightmare plowed its way toward them. Every inch of its body was alive with squirming pink tentacles. An exceptionally large array of appendages sprouted from its face, the ribbed mouth pulsating as if it were gasping for air.

  It picked up speed when it somehow spotted them, even though Autumn couldn’t see if it had any eyes.

  She wanted to run, needed to flee as fast as her legs would take her, but she was paralyzed.

  When she was a kid, she’d snuck a video out of her parents’ movie shelf and brought it to her friend Sandy’s house. It was the horror movie Slither, about alien parasitic worms taking over people’s bodies. It had freaked her out so much, she’d had nightmares for months. She went from loving snakes and not being afraid when her older brother flicked earthworms at her, to practically having panic attacks every time she came across a nasty that wriggled on the ground.

  The hideous creature spread its arms wide, tentacles writhing like hungry snakes. It was as if the thing had seeped into her mind, stealing her fears and bringing them to life.

  It was coming right for her, and she just couldn’t move.

  Chapter 15

  As soon as the monster got within ten feet of Autumn, it left its tentacled feet, flying at her with open arms. Autumn knew it wasn’t possible, but in her mind, the dozens of ridged mouths within the twisting tentacles screeched like alien banshees.

  Before she could even meekly raise her arms up to defend herself, a fast-moving blur careened into the creature. It tumbled away from her, tentacles slapping at her savior’s body.

  “Latrell!”

  Seeing her fiancé grappling with the beast snapped her out of it. Seth was already running to break them up. Latrell was on his back, punching at the thing’s arms and chest, pulverizing the slimy appendages. Seth grabbed the monster around its neck, squishing the smaller tentacles growing there.

  Autumn looked to Brandon. “Where’s the machete?”

  He dove into the remains of one of the tents and snagged the knife. Chest heaving, he stood away from the brawl, gripping the blade, eyes following the action.

  “Help them!” Autumn screamed.

  He lifted his arm, took a step, then scampered back when the scrum rolled in his direction.

  The creature was close to overtaking Seth and Latrell.

  Autumn grabbed the machete from Brandon’s grasp. Latrell saw her and shouted, “No!”

  “Back away from it!” she said.

  Seth saw the blade and understood. He released the choke hold he had on the beast and danced away from the flailing limbs.

  Latrell bunched his feet on the thing’s chest and shoved as hard as he could. It fell backwards, giving him time to scoot away.

  Autumn knew she didn’t have a second to spare. She ran at the prone creature, the machete high over her head, slicing down and burying it in the area that she assumed was its head. Fat Devil’s Fingers limbs split in two, the olive gleba spots weeping fluid.

  She pulled the machete free and hacked again, going for the neck. She didn’t know she’d been screaming until her throat began to hurt.

  Slashing over and over, she didn’t stop until the head rolled free, its arms and legs twitching for several terrifying seconds before going still.

  The tentacles drooped, already blackening and turning to mush.

  Autumn saw bare flesh underneath a tangle of dissolving limbs. Spying the small peace-sign tattoo on the upper arm, Carrie’s peace-sign tattoo, brought whatever gorge was left in her rocketing from her throat.

  I killed Carrie!

  * * * *

  “There was nothing else you could have done,” Latrell consoled her from a safe distance.

  She had finally stopped sobbing after Brandon urged her to jump in the lake and get anything off her that may have splattered from Carrie’s infected body. She thought she’d miraculously escaped getting any fluids on her, but he was right, so she dove right in, her body convulsing as she wailed.

  Nothing Latrell or any of them could say would lessen the sick impact of knowing she’d murdered her best friend. Not just murdered. She’d hacked her to pieces.

  But you didn’t know it was Carrie, she thought.

  In the heat of the moment, would it have mattered? Seeing it deal Latrell a death sentence had ruptured a wellspring of anger she never knew she had.

  Now that anger was spent, and all that was left was guilt and horror.

  Tina had settled down and sat in Seth’s arms. The egg sacs had grown, with more starting to bud from their flesh.

  Latrell scratched at his chest. Autumn noticed small white bumps by his collarbone. Nothing she’d ever seen in her life made her feel sadder.

  “I—I just can’t believe that was Carrie,” she said. The Devil’s Fingers had liquefied, along with Carrie’s body. There was almost nothing left of her—nothing to even bring home to her parents so they could mourn properly.

  “It wasn’t,” Latrell assured her. “Carrie left us the moment those things took over her body.”

  He looked to Seth and Tina and she could tell he wanted to take it back.

  Then again, he was now in the very same boat.

  “You can’t beat yourself up about it,” Brandon said. “She—or it—was going to kill them if you didn’t put a stop to it.”

  She did kill Latrell, Autumn thought. Not right away, but it’s going to happen.

  “She was so strong,” Seth said. “How could a fungus make her so strong?”

  No one had an answer, least of all Autumn. The thing that had been Carrie easily outmatched Seth and Latrell. The ferocity displayed by Dan and Carrie was one of Autumn’s greatest causes for concern.

  “Guess I can hit the trail without worrying so much,” Latrell said. Before Autumn could protest, he raised a hand. “My in
fection, if that’s what we’re going to call it, is new. I have plenty of time.”

  Taking a deep, ragged breath, Autumn said, “You can’t go.”

  “Look, I’m still in good shape and it’s not like I can get more infected.”

  “You don’t understand.” It was hard to see him through the sheen of tears. “You can’t go because you’re infected. We can’t risk you coming in contact with people.”

  “I won’t let anyone get near me.”

  “Will that be enough? You saw what’s in the woods. They’re growing at an exponential rate. We can’t risk it.”

  “So I’m just supposed to sit back and let you do it?”

  Autumn wiped the tears with the back of her hand. “No. None of us can go.”

  Seth’s brows creased. “What the hell are you talking about?” Several egg sacs had grown on his neck, looking like massive blisters.

  “I’m saying, we can’t leave. It’s too risky.”

  “You can’t quarantine us,” Brandon said. “That’s bullshit.”

  She rose to her feet, standing over him. “Is it? Just take a moment to think about something that’s more than yourself. If this gets out, how do you think you’ll feel knowing you’re responsible for the death of other people? Children, for Christ’s sake!”

  Brandon turned away from her. “That’s not fair, calling me a selfish asshole.”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “Yes. It is. And you have no idea how unselfish I am.”

  Latrell approached her. “Baby, I know you’re scared. We all are. But there’s help just a few miles away. We have to at least try.”

  “We did try. This place isn’t going to let us go. And yes, I am scared. I’m also realistic. For all we know, we’re part of some big experiment, like Brandon said about the chemtrails. Someone has to be behind the Frankenfungus. The problem is, What if they don’t know how bad it’s gotten? Maybe there was an accident and this spot being so remote, no one’s even aware of what’s happening. Man has made his share of diseases without realizing the consequences.”

  Brandon snorted. “You’re beginning to sound a lot like me.”

  “Seth, how come we haven’t seen anyone else the whole time we’ve been here?”

  Seth scratched at his neck, dangerously close to popping a pregnant pod.

  “I mean, this isn’t the most popular trail in the park. A lot of times, my dad and I would pretty much have the place to ourselves.”

  “At this time of year?” Autumn asked. Her heart was starting to gallop, pieces of the puzzle falling into place.

  He thought about it for a moment, then hung his head. “No, not really. This is the start of the high season.”

  Autumn said, “So it’s possible someone is keeping everyone out. And whoever was here to start with is either dead, like whoever owned the clothes Dan found, or trapped.”

  Latrell’s huge shoulders sagged. “Shit, Autumn. That can’t be right.”

  “You have to agree it makes sense.”

  “I’m a paranoid wacko and even I don’t want to agree with you, Mighty Mite,” Brandon said. “But I hate to admit it’s a possibility.”

  In a way, she equally hated to have his support. It meant the worst might be true.

  “So we just sit here and wait to die?” Seth said.

  “Or wait it out, period. Maybe the fungus will die on its own,” Brandon said.

  “That’s easy for you to say,” Seth said. “You don’t look like the ass-end of a chicken coop.”

  Poor Tina could only watch them. The egg sac around and in her mouth had doubled in size. Pretty soon, it was going to dislocate her jaw.

  “I’m making a fire,” Latrell announced. “If someone’s watching, I want them to know we’re still here and they can go fuck themselves.”

  He stormed off to gather firewood.

  “I’ll help you,” Brandon said.

  Seth and Tina glowered at Autumn, as if this was her fault. She couldn’t look them in the eye.

  “The problem with your quarantine is, you can’t enforce it,” Seth said.

  Autumn didn’t reply.

  “Look at Tina.”

  She stared at the ground.

  “I said, look at Tina!”

  She gave a quick glance, Tina’s mouth in a permanent O, the egg sac spilling over her lips.

  “I can’t resign myself to watching the woman I love get overtaken by this…this whatever it is. When it starts to really grow on Latrell, you tell me if you still want us to just sit here and wait to die.”

  “Seth, look, we…” her voice quavered, her resolve dissolving like overripe Devil’s Fingers.

  “I’m going,” Seth said. “You’ll all thank me when I save your asses. If I don’t make it back for whatever reason, tell Brandon…” He shook his head, his lips pulled back in a tight line.

  He’d waited for this moment to get up and go, when Latrell and Brandon couldn’t stop him. A large part of Autumn couldn’t blame him. When Latrell got worse, could she resign herself to doing nothing to try and save him?

  Contagion.

  All those lectures from her father, his intellectualizing the subject while Autumn spun horror stories in her overactive mind.

  Pandemic.

  That one word alone should have been enough to keep people up at night, to sequester themselves in filtered bunkers.

  Seth kissed Tina’s head and whispered something in her ear. She traced her fingers down his jawline, resting her infected head against his gently so none of the pods popped.

  “I won’t be gone long,” he said, hooking his fingers in the lantern’s handle.

  “Don’t,” Autumn said.

  Seth sighed. “I have to.”

  He started to walk away, the last rays of the sun fading on the horizon.

  “Seth.”

  He didn’t turn around.

  Autumn picked up the machete. Tina said something unintelligible to her over the fecund egg sac.

  “I said stop!” Autumn barked.

  Seth turned and saw the machete in her hand.

  “We both know you’re not going to do it,” he said, then turned his back.

  Visions of the Devil’s Fingers growing on infants in strollers, tentacles bursting from grandmothers’ mouths, the contagion spreading like wildfire, flitted across her mind.

  Before Tina could grab her, Autumn ran to Seth, the machete feeling like a lead weight in her hand.

  Chapter 16

  “I mean it, Seth,” Autumn said.

  He stopped, turned to her and laughed.

  “What, you’re going to kill a guy who’s already as good as dead? That seems kind of pointless.”

  Whatever light was left of the day was fading fast. In a way, she was glad. It was easier not being able to see his face, the same face that made her laugh all through sophomore-year philosophy or was there with a quick country-boy grin whenever she needed a pick-me-up.

  “Please, Seth, you can’t hand-deliver this to other people.”

  “The way it was hand-delivered to me? If this…this fucking insanity was created by someone, I’m damn well going to take it back to them so they can see how truly fucked-up they are. And I’ll make sure they do something for Tina. Believe me.”

  She realized there was no arguing with him. He’d channeled all of his fear into a quest to make someone pay and in turn, find a cure for Tina. It was easier than counting the minutes until an alien fungus took over his body, allowing him a moment of intense madness before going through a kind of spontaneous human combustion.

  Tina tried to stand and fell. Autumn saw the bottoms of her feet were covered in egg sacs. Even if there was a cure and Seth had access to a private jet, there’d never be enough time to reverse what was happening to Tina.

&n
bsp; Autumn steeled herself, taking several steps toward Seth.

  “Just stay here and be with Tina,” she whispered. “If you leave now, I don’t think she’ll be here by the time you get back.”

  Seth’s silhouette drew itself up, shoulders bunching, arms curling.

  “Who made you the expert, Autumn? Huh? What makes you think we have to do whatever you say? What…gives…you…the…right?”

  Flecks of spittle sparkled in the moonlight as he shouted at her. In all the years she’d known him, she’d never once heard him raise his voice, other than to ask what they wanted from the bar at loud clubs.

  “I’m not kissing your ass and I’m certainly not letting you tell me how to run what’s left of my goddamn life!”

  Somehow, despite her growing fear, Autumn kept her ground.

  “This isn’t you, Seth,” she said. “You’re not thinking straight.”

  He chuffed. “Oh, I’m thinking just fine.”

  The tinge of menace in his voice was enough to make her drop the machete and run.

  Pfft! Pfft!

  This time, Autumn did take a step back.

  “If you’re going, you should at least turn on your lantern,” she said. “Unless you can suddenly see in the dark.”

  Seth didn’t respond, nor did he turn on the lantern.

  There were more of those slight popping sounds. Autumn needed to see!

  “Fine, don’t listen to me. If you’re gonna go, then go,” she said.

  This time, he did flick the lantern on. The pod on his stomach had ruptured. Seven tentacles as thick as her forearm drooped down to his knees, dripping thick goo from their pointed tips. Several smaller pods on his neck had also come undone, the tentacles there as small as pipe cleaners.

  His eyes were gray, tinged with spider veins of crimson.

  Looking down at the massive fungus protruding from his belly, he said, “I know I don’t have a lot of time. But I’ll make sure I have enough.”

  “I can’t let you,” she said, sounding as impotent as she felt.

  “You’re a broken record, Autumn. Take care of Tina while I’m gone.”

  Before he could turn around, Autumn swung the machete. She wasn’t close enough to connect with him, but she wanted him to understand how serious she was.