by C A Gleason
Jonah glanced at Henry, whose eyes were closed, his chin quivering. Henry rubbed at his eyes and turned away, muttering something. No doubt a thanks his granddaughter was still alive, when a moment ago they’d feared the worst.
Doreen picked the stunned Heike off the ground and held her in an embrace. Heike’s legs and arms were limp like a doll’s . . . until they wrapped around Doreen and she cried.
“Shh. It’s OK. You’re OK. You’re alive.”
“Poor Patty,” Salgado said.
Jonah wanted to say: “I know.” But no words came out. Heike was alive, and he was beyond thankful. But a young girl was dead.
Dead Molters lay around what was left of Patty. Heike had tried so desperately to save her friend, but it was too late.
“She wanted some privacy as she did . . . her paperwork,” Heike said over Doreen’s shoulder. “She was too embarrassed and wanted to be sneaky about it. It’s my fault.”
Doreen stroked her hair. “It was an accident.”
“I told her we shouldn’t go into the woods, but she said we’d be back before anyone was the wiser. I was supposed to watch over her. I stepped away for a second. I heard something.”
Something? Jonah thought. Molters. They were probably trying to separate the two girls so they could converge on one.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Jonah said, reassuring Heike.
Heike’s eyes narrowed as she wiggled down to the ground, pushing away from her mom as she charged him. “No, it’s yours! If we didn’t come here, my friend would still be alive!”
“Heike!” Doreen said.
Jonah felt terrible and he wasn’t sure how to respond. So, he said what anyone should. “I’m sorry.”
Maybe Heike was right. Maybe Patty’s death was his fault.
But maybe not.
Patty’s death, anyone’s death, was awful. She’d been alive just minutes ago. Pain from failure throbbed inside him everywhere. They’d recently begun the mission north and already two were dead, Myers, and now Patty.
It was completely unacceptable. But there was no going back in time to fix it. He, and they, should focus on the mission to get north.
Blame could, and often would, be endless. Rationalizing and getting over feelings often took time, and extra time was something they did not have.
Heike was angry with Jonah. She was sad. She should be. And it was understandable that she didn’t like him right now. She could feel any way she wanted. And for as long as she needed.
If he were in her shoes and her age and had lost his friend, he’d probably feel the same way. Except he was so thankful Heike was alive. And even though what happened was terrible, he could still be proud of her from a distance.
Heike had handled those Molters well. Even now she was practicing weapon discipline, with the barrel of the pistol pointing down at the ground and her finger off the trigger.
Heike wiped at her cheeks with the hand not holding the weapon, looking much like her mom. “Can we bury her?”
The corpse was so bloody it was unrecognizable. Burying Patty would take time. Molters had already attacked. There was no time for it. Except they couldn’t leave her like that.
“Get the e-tools.”
At Jonah’s command Nico, Philip, Salgado, Jacobs, Donnelly, Bernard, Sven, and Henry went for the military fold-up shovels located in the UVs.
Waste of time or not, or whether there was time for it at all, they were going to bury the young girl’s body.
Heike attempted to say how she felt but all she got out was Patty’s name. She cried the rest.
Eventually she managed, “She was my good friend.”
Going north was even more important now. If that were even possible. The fact Heike considered someone to be a good friend and knew her for how long, a day? It was proof of how important it was for kids to socialize. To have friends. So they could grow up normally.
It wasn’t just what kids wanted, it was what they needed, and needing to be around other kids the same age was as important to them as adults being in romantic relationships.
Jonah had taken it for granted when he was young, because being normal wasn’t out of the ordinary. For young people these days, normalcy was rare.
His stepdaughter remaining safe and having the opportunity to live a normal life was as important a mission as all of them to reach a destination. Jonah would ensure both missions were accomplished, or die trying.
The burial over, Heike asked for Salgado’s e-tool and patted the dirt with it. Then she handed it back to him and exhaled.
Except for Doreen and Heike, the rest of them were turned away from the freshly dug grave, their view across all the foggy stumps, the trees cut down about a hundred feet in all directions leading away from Fort Perry.
Jonah noticed one of the stumps was growing upward.
Not a stump.
The tall Molter was a single, or seemed to be when it noticed it’d been spotted and rushed them. Jonah meant to warn the others, but there was no time.
Instead, he yanked his pistol from beneath his jacket and started shooting, saving firing his automatic rifle, for he knew he would need to utilize the weapon system soon.
CHAPTER 18
Gunfire was an undeniable warning as the towering, muscled, green Molter ran toward them.
All of them were armed, so they fired too, and after dozens of rounds, the creature somersaulted to the ground.
Thankfully, it was still a good distance away when it had been spotted. It lay still. Surely it was dead.
“Fucking thing is huge,” Salgado said.
“A lot bigger than any I ever saw,” Donnelly said.
It was a consensus without anyone else having to agree.
“Anyone see more?” Henry said.
“There always seems to be more,” Doreen said.
Jonah didn’t see any though. And no one else reacted to what was certainly stalking closer to them from the woods. Jonah wanted to exclaim it was clear but he held off. It sure didn’t feel like it. And he knew better.
“Just the one I think,” Salgado said.
Bernard was sweating. “Yes,” he agreed nervously.
Masked Nico slowly walked toward the dead Molter.
“Going to make sure it’s dead,” Nico muffled under his military scarf.
A safe distance away, Nico noticed, like its cousins it had green skin, veiny muscles, and hooked, spiky teeth sprouting around its mouth. The sharp tips curved inward, their light color contrasting the dark maw of open unsated hunger.
Taking careful steps, Nico lowered the barrel of his automatic rifle, pushing on its muscular shoulder. It didn’t move. So, he relaxed, turning . . .
The wind kicked up, shrieking, along with the sound of bed sheets tearing.
The dead Molter opened up behind Nico like many fleshy kites caught the wind, but instead of Infectors, four small Behemoths extended multiple legs.
They pointed and shouted and backed away.
Sven gasped. “Much bigger than the first one I saw!”
It was a Behemoth bomb.
Sven claimed to have seen one years ago, but thought maybe he’d been mistaken. He’d also suspected that even if they did exist, they no longer did, so Jonah never thought he would see one.
Mucus drenched the pale, miniature, knee-high versions of the predators that would one day grow to nearly thirty feet tall. They could already stand sturdily and hold themselves upright on somewhat shaky legs.
Like the rest of the creatures, and similar to the efficiency and ferocity of the Infector Bombs, Behemoth bombs had evolved. It seemed they were bigger and taller than other Molters. Every creature of the Molting seemed to be evolving; to lead or serve.
Somehow, the Behemoths immediately recognized the threat of the armed humans, but also knew humans were their prey. Their growls were shrunken versions of what emitted from full-grown adults.
Roars from adult Behemoths vibrated the ground, but the tiny roars coming from
the newborns sounded like Behemoths had inhaled helium. The creatures were laughable compared to the giant monstrosities they would one day become.
Until speed matched ferocity. Being so new to a planet they dominated alongside Molters, survival was instinct, and three of them scrambled away like sure-footed octopuses toward rising uncut, encumbering trees.
But the fourth stood its ground, challenging the armed humans. Or was it distracting them so the other three could escape?
Even though Nico was already a good distance away from it, it growled, scuttled forward, and leapt onto him before he even could fire a shot, gripping all around him with its legs. It was like a bear hug but by an alien. And viciously, it bit into his stomach.
Sven shouted for Nico to get away from it, which didn’t make any sense because there was nothing Nico could do to prevent being absorbed by the biting attack.
Gunfire.
Philip, Jacobs, Donnelly, Bernard, and Henry shot at the Behemoth newborns. They must have circled around before fleeing again. Jonah wasn’t sure. He’d had eyes on Nico, trying to figure out a way to save him.
Doreen held Heike before her, ready to join in the shooting if it became necessary. But also shield Heike’s view of Nico being attacked. Sven stood near them aiming a revolver.
Everything was suddenly so chaotic. The attack happened so fast. It seemed no one knew where the threat was exactly. It felt like it was on all sides of them.
Nico was wrapped up by a creature about the size of a regular-sized dog. Except a dog with eight legs. And legs with razor sharp claws on its feet. Also, a stinger-equipped tail. Nico struggled to remain upright while hollering.
His weapon was useless as it was pinned against him. Although the pale creature was somewhat blocked by the weapon, Nico shoved against it, desperately trying to get it off, even as it was ripping flesh out of him.
There wasn’t much anyone could do. They couldn’t shoot the combined Nico-monster thing, and the monster’s tail whipped around in the air, arcing slashes of speed, keeping them at a distance.
Nico’s plea turned into a scream when his scarf fell away, revealing what looked to be burn scars.
Even with all the danger, Jonah stepped closer to the dying man. But far enough away so that the creature couldn’t leap onto him too, or stab him with the tail. He searched for a shot but he couldn’t spot one. Not without shooting Nico by accident.
Salgado lost his temper. He pulled out a snub-nose revolver and ran up to the struggle. “Get off him!” Salgado kicked at the thing’s back, but as it was biting Nico, it twisted and latched onto Salgado’s boot. “Ah!”
Hopping on one foot, and with the creature’s bite unshakable, Salgado leaned back with all his weight, dragging the sure-footed Behemoth and all its claw-footed legs across the dirt.
Pulling it away from Nico far enough, he carefully aimed above his boot and pulled the trigger of the double-action revolver three times. Finally, he was able to kick out of its teeth-filled mouth.
The death of the small Behemoth caused reverse momentum, and Nico and the Behemoth rolled in the other direction as a pile. Both human and creature looked to be dead.
From where the Behemoth newborns scrambled into the woods, it sounded like pigs squealing. The creatures were being fed on.
“What the fuck?” Jonah said.
Salgado caught his breath, hearing it too. “Molters are winning.”
Jonah had initially felt safe when they’d arrived at Fort Perry because the trees were cut down a good distance away from the fort. Being able to see the terrain had made him feel in control. He was wrong.
Remembering the structure and how fortified Fort Perry was from inside, it would have been a different story if they could have gone within its walls upon arrival. The defense still held its defensive capabilities, the biggest proof because it was still standing.
But for Jonah’s people standing outside the front gate, they might as well have been treading ocean water while anticipating hungry sharks.
Even though they were prepared, the next attack happened even sooner than Jonah thought. There was hardly any time to react.
He considered scrambling into a UV and driving through the gate, but doing so would allow them to get in too. And also might topple the ladders necessary for everyone to reach the safety of the height of the platforms.
The forest flooded with teeth and eyes and claws. All of it was land-sliding toward them. There were also tree length legs. Seemed there were some Molters still loyal to Behemoth masters because they rushed together.
From behind them—and all at once—the gate rocked, followed by the pitter of claws raking against the inside of the wood. Something was climbing the gate. From the inside.
Far too many somethings, Jonah realized.
“Roll out!” he yelled. “Henry, Doreen, Heike, get in the truck!”
The rest of them stood at the ready as the three disappeared into the cab as commanded. Two doors slammed shut a second apart, sounding like two gunshots. Both windows rolled up fast.
Henry started the truck and revved the engine. He was ready to speed away. All the rest of them needed to do was rush into the vehicles too.
But then a woman landed hard between the truck and a UV, and was still.
She must have fallen. Maybe she was thrown over? It was obvious her skin was blue. Suddenly she jolted to life.
Instead of standing upright, her blue hands clawed at the dirt. Her skin cracked open—where it was visible around her clothing—in red seams. A molting had begun.
“Drive!” Jonah shouted.
Henry didn’t, though. When Jonah took a step closer, he instantly learned why. It was all over his face. Henry wasn’t about to do what he’d demanded of Jonah at Henrytown.
Strength in numbers. Better to wait for the rest of them.
Doreen hugged Heike inside the cab. They were frightened.
The thing that used to be a human woman suddenly raked at the ground with freshly sprouted claws. Pinky fingers on both hands sloughed off.
Green fingers sprouted pale claws, and they ripped at a woman’s face. After it was no longer a human but a creature, its hands went after the rest of what it had been, scraping more bloody flesh away.
The molting was complete. It flipped onto its stomach, predatory eyes spotting humans for the first time. What the thing used to be, human, it now considered to be its prey.
Slowly rising to its clawed feet in a crouch, bloody flesh dripping out tattered clothes, it growled . . . then howled.
Molters landed behind it in formation. They were the ones clawing at the inside of Fort Perry. But the creatures on the other side of the walls seemed to have held off for the molting to be complete.
Molters spread out.
Now their paths to the vehicles were blocked.
And many more Molters were rampaging toward them at their backs, along with Behemoths.
Why didn’t they fire weapons already?
Jonah needed to do something. He must figure out a way to help the others escape . . .
The Behemoth bomb was taller than the other Molters, but the Molters advancing on them and blocking their path were all the same height.
Height.
With Jonah’s family safely in the truck to his left, he holstered his pistol and swung the automatic rifle strapped around him to his front. He aimed at the group.
Hopefully Molters couldn’t understand language.
“Drop, men!” Jonah shouted and waved an arm. “Down on the ground, now!” Pointing fervently. “All of you!”
When they dropped to the dirt, flattening themselves, Jonah pulled the trigger in three-round bursts.
Bullets punching through Molter flesh also ricocheted off up-armor. Fortunately, Jonah had insisted on staggered parking. The bloodsuckers were standing in front of the up-armored UVs, not the pickup trucks. There was plenty of space between all the vehicles.
Their eyes locked on the one firing, Jonah aimed h
igh, head or throat or chest shots, and one loaded magazine dropped a dozen Molters. Hideous and green skinned, Infector bombs every one of them.
“Clear!”
Jonah buttoned out the expended magazine, put it in his cargo pocket, and slapped in a loaded magazine from the same pocket. He yanked the charging handle, chambering the first round for whatever came at them next. The men got themselves upright.
Jacobs wasn’t moving. He remained on the ground. Sven dragged him by the arm until Bernard ran over to help, but he tripped and fell. Donnelly waved him off. He picked Jacobs off the ground and grunted him over his shoulder, and Philip helped Bernard upright.
Endless Molters were in the forest now. Maybe the ones from the firing line the night before had discovered Fort Perry? Not an impossible pace, but highly unlikely. It meant it was a different horde. One hunting the day.
Jutting movement. A swarm of Infectors darted between stumps. As each second passed, they were closer to biting whoever they could sink their small teeth into.
The unnerving creatures born from Behemoth cocoons, and secreted by Behemoths up to a certain maturity, or from a Molter filled with them—an Infector bomb—crawled. They looked like spiders but with slick, shiny legs.
Infectors soon blanketed what was left of the Behemoth bomb. And then also Nico’s corpse and the carcass of the baby Behemoth.
There were snaps and cracks of trees falling over. Behemoths roared in the forest.
As Henry revved the truck, more engines started. People piled in wherever they could, into whichever vehicle was closest.
Rising up into the gunner’s hatch, Jonah swiveled the SAR and aimed it at hundreds of advancing creatures . . .
But held his fire. Even taking his finger off the trigger.
The convoy sped away, creating more and more distance.
Something told Jonah to be mindful of bullet discipline. To fire when absolutely necessary. And that he was going to need every single round of ammunition for the SAR weapon system.
CHAPTER 19
The battle at Fort Perry was in the rearview mirror, and they’d barely gotten away, but now there were four vehicles in the convoy instead of six. The supplies and weapons in the other vehicles had to be abandoned.
