Should Have Killed The Kid

by Frederick Hamilton, R.

  Monty degenerated into a coughing fit that amplified his flickering. The growing intensity put Dave in mind of a bomb building to detonation.

  Neither Dave nor Sally uttered a single syllable in the minute it took Monty to control his coughing enough to continue. Both of them remained frozen, staring at the wreckage of a man. Dave could even hear a faint creaking as Monty’s skin pulled tighter and tighter over his skull, his face now little more than a mask of splitting leather.

  ‘There's some hope though. I’ve managed to contact a colleague. She’s not happy but she is on her way. But she’s not going to get here in time. It’s safe for now but that… that’s not going to last much longer. Once I'm gone the wards will fade. You’ll need to leave soon.’

  Dave winced as Monty’s flesh started to pop like over-tightened guitar strings. Sharp twanging notes that opened huge gaping rents. He expected geyser sprays but what was revealed beneath the skin looked like chalky putty covered with jerky. A faint grinding noise soon joined it, setting Dave’s teeth on edge even as he wondered over and over, how can there be no blood?

  Not a drop exited Monty’s body as he unleashed a long, low groan of agony.

  Dave couldn't believe it when he managed to continue.

  ‘Take the car. Move quickly.’ The grinding grew with every word that left Monty’s mouth. 'Don’t let anything stop you.’ More and more rents pocked the old man’s face and the way he clutched at his stomach left no doubt as to what was happening there. Still the old man managed to jut a finger at the kid who was only now starting to stir from his sleep. ‘You know what needs to be done. You know… you can’t let anybody stop you. I won’t be back. I’m sorry… I wish… things could have been different… You need to fix the mistake… please… it’s the last chance… for everything…’

  Dave stammered but couldn’t find any words as he watched the horrific scene play to its finale.

  The grinding transformed into cracking and popping as Monty’s body started to convulse, toppling him from his knees to his back. Dave realised in a nauseous instant that the sound was Monty’s bone shattering inside his body. He wanted to close his eyes when with rending tears Monty’s limbs started to bend in all the directions they were not meant to. But the sight of the old man screaming drew his gaze like a car crash.

  Screaming from the very depths of his being.

  Dave collapsed back in relief as the flickering image stuttered a couple of times then finally dropped out completely. He didn’t even realise he'd held his breath until his back hit the cushions and the wind whooshed out of his lungs.

  ‘Fuck,’ was all he could think to say as sweat streamed down his forehead and he stared at the spot where only a second ago, Monty had been.

  17.

  Dave eased the two bags loaded with water and food next to the front door and winced as his stiffened muscles screamed in agony. Although he wanted nothing more than to return to the couch and sleep for another day or two, Monty’s last words were echoing over and over in his head.

  Have to hurry, he thought as he fought through the pain and managed to stand up straight again.

  He eyed the fading glow that rimmed the door and swallowed. Though tempted to take a peek, Dave was hesitant to open the door until he absolutely had to. Although it appeared to be fading fast anyway, he worried he might ruin whatever it was that Monty had done to the flat and bring the hordes of shadows swarming all over them.

  With the old man now gone, there’d be no magic barrier to protect them this time.

  Magic barrier? Dave shook his head at the thought. Not long ago he would have scoffed at such an idea. He’d never been superstitious, had in fact been downright rude on a few occasions acquaintances confided to him that they were. But now he had no option but to accept it. He’d seen far too much since his trip to Hent to dismiss anything.

  Kind of difficult to deny any of it when it’s right there in your face, he thought on his trip back to the kitchen to grab the keys to the rental. Though really he hadn’t even allowed himself to try.

  I mean, if Monty could project an image of himself from a prison in NSW to a skyscraper in the heart of Melbourne’s CBD is it really that surprising he could conjure up a magical barrier too?

  Dave thought not as he swiped the keys from the hook near the microwave.

  Sally was still at the grimy window pane where she’d stood for the entire hour or so since Monty’s abrupt demise. Dave watched her cautiously while he twirled the keys on the end of his finger. She’d been less than impressed with his earlier attempt to explain what was going on. The shock of Monty’s passing had not been conducive to clarity and with the boy staring at him with the wide-eyed expression that seemed fused to his face, the explanation had only been harder. With each word the image of him gripping the boy by the throat and holding a knife to his pale skin had flashed through his head.

  The murders in Hent had been fine and Dave had got through that part of the story relatively unscathed. Sally had read the articles and vaguely remembered references to Dave’s role once he jogged her memory. But after that, things had rapidly gone down hill. Primarily because from then on, Dave himself didn’t fully understand what had happened. First he’d struggled to relate events in the bluestone room. And then, after that fiasco, he tried to cobble together what he’d gleaned from his conversations with Monty about the creatures they were fleeing, the “claws in the shadows”. He’d quickly realised Monty had not, in fact, ever really given him a proper account of what they were.

  It showed in his explanation to Sally.

  Her eyes alone told Dave she wasn’t going to accept the vagueness like he had.

  Then things had gone from bad to worse as he’d almost tripped up big time and told her about the boy. All about the kid and why he was with them. It was a shocking moment. He’d gotten so used to talking about it with Monty that he’d started to explain before it even dawned on him it might be a very bad idea.

  He’d stopped mid sentence and, when pushed, tacked on an excuse for Monty’s dying words: that he had no idea what the old guy had been talking about. The soldier’s response to that had been pretty fiery indeed.

  It made him a little nervous now as he hesitated, wondering what the best approach to break the silence that had followed her outburst might be. He glanced at the boy but there was no help there. He was still in the same position he’d woken in, staring into nothing.

  ‘Should we get going?’ Dave winced, wondering what her reaction to the question would be. Whether she’d go with him or suggest he headed off on his own. Or worst of all, boot him out but say the kid was staying with her. He certainly hoped it wouldn’t be the latter. He had his arguments planned already. A long and compelling spiel about how there wasn’t really any other option for her except to come with him, that going alone would just be madness and that all of them needed each others help. But he didn’t think he stood much of a chance of forcing her if she thought otherwise.

  Probably has five different ways of killing me with just her bare hands, Dave thought as he braced for a second onslaught.

  But instead of screaming abuse or attacking him, Sally snorted in disgust and stormed for the hallway. He assumed she was headed for the door.

  He hoped she was anyway.

  As she passed, Dave thought about reaching out a hand to stop her but her momentum scared him off and the opportunity passed. He breathed a sigh of relief when he glanced back and saw her waiting by the bags and then walked across to where the kid still impersonated a zombie.

  'Hey buddy, we've got to get going.' Once again his voice came out strangely affected when he talked to the kid. All soft and silky and oh so very false.

  Geez try and be a bit creepier.

  Despite Dave’s fears, the boy didn't seem to mind. He didn't even blink. Just obediently took Dave's hand and struggled to his feet. Dave nearly screamed at the contact. Partly in pain at exerting his stiff muscles but also in horror as their skin touched and
he flashbacked to the bluestone room. Back to him standing in the middle of all the corpses holding a blade against the soft white skin while Monty blathered, 'You need to do it, you need to do it, I can't do another...'

  CAN I REALLY DO THIS?

  The question rocketed through his head and caught him off guard. Dave had to fight hard to keep it tamped down, to stop from flinging away the kid's hand and running as far as he could in the opposite direction.

  After some hesitation he got it back under control and led the way to the door where Sally stood experimentally hefting one of the bags he'd dropped earlier. Though as he drew near, the doubts returned.

  The little niggling voice just didn't want to stay down.

  What if you travel all that way and it's just like last time? You still can't do it. What do you do then?

  Dave pushed it away again but that just made it segue into an even more distressing thought: What if you get all that way, do it and nothing happens?

  Dave's breath caught in his throat as he pondered the ramifications of that idea.

  Then his eyes went wide when it dawned on him that there was something quite important that Monty hadn't passed on: exactly what he was supposed to do with the kid once he got to Hent. He knew he had to take the boy to the bluestone room again. He knew that he'd have to decide again... Beyond that though...

  What? Just slit his throat and hope for the–

  'Are we going? Or are you just going to gape all day?' Sally's terse voice cut through Dave's mounting panic and he almost jumped out of his skin. When he locked on her fiery eyes he had the ridiculous feeling that she'd somehow read his mind and saw what he had planned.

  'Yes... YES!' Dave muttered the first time and then overcompensated by nearly yelling the repetition. The soldier looked at him strangely but fortunately kept silent. He took the bag she held out to him with a shaking hand.

  Doesn't matter, it's not like we're going to make it that far anyway. Dave couldn't help but feel defeated. He let go of the kids arm, slung the bag over his shoulder and did his best to stop thinking for awhile.

  Fortunately the soldier was happy to provide a distraction as she hefted the other bag and then turned to face them.

  'Okay this is what will happen. I'll drive. Keys.' She held out a hand and without argument Dave dug the keys from his pocket. All trace of anger or fear vanished from her voice as she continued in a clear and calm tone that seemed to preclude argument. 'When the door opens we move. Understood?' Even the kid nodded as the soldier stared. 'Good. We go straight for the car. Fortunately we have a beeper. The doors will be unlocked. Do NOT hesitate. Run and get straight in the car. If you think about stopping. Don't. If you want to look back. Don't. Just get straight in the car. The second I am there I will be starting the car. If you are not there, I will not be waiting. Understand?' Dave nodded along with the kid. 'I mean it. Understand?' Dave felt like he was wilting beneath the steady gaze.

  'Yes I understand.'

  'Good. Well...' the soldier only hesitated for a millisecond as she stared at the glowing border around the door but it was enough for Dave to realise she didn't want to touch it. Still, after only the briefest of pauses she reached out and gripped the handle. 'Well, here goes.'

  Dave tensed as the handle creaked. Everything shifted into slow motion while his mind conjured images of the swarming hordes that waited beyond the door. The time dragged on while the soldier was forced to put her shoulder to the door. Whatever Monty's barrier consisted of, for a moment it looked too strong. But after a hefty shove, it yielded with a sound like a popping balloon. The glow evaporated into a cloud of bright vapour that rapidly dissipated and finally murky sunlight streamed in as the door swung ever so slowly open.

  Dave's breath became hitching hiccups that grew in strength, worse and worse as more of the front stoop came into view. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shi... The driveway appeared and Dave tensed his body, ready for the flood...

  ...that never eventuated. Outside was clear of shadows – well at least the semi circle Dave could see from where he was standing. He didn't get time to ponder what might lay beyond that.

  'Go!' Sally roared then took off running.

  Adrenaline took over.

  Dave started after her, his heart hammering. It was clear after the first two steps there was no way he could match Sally's pace. Jittery panic shot through his body. His legs felt tight and painful as he stumbled forward into the smoky early morning air.

  His eyes darted, trying to see every direction simultaneously and consequently catching nothing but blurry and hazy snapshots of swirling colour that made absolutely no sense.

  Patches of the smoke filled sky, the glow on the horizon that he assumed was the burning city, the dust and ash-coated concrete of the driveway: all the snippets he caught told him nothing. Shadows could have been massing all around and in his panicked state Dave doubted he'd even see them.

  He tried to speed up. The effort didn't pay off. It was only ten metres or so to the car but it seemed to be taking an eternity. Dave was shocked to see even the kid – who he realised he'd forgotten again – stream passed while he flailed along.

  With each step he expected the darkness to descend and surround him, the last sight he'd ever see before he was minced.

  Sally held up the beeper but Dave didn't hear the doors unlock, the blood too loud as it beat in his ears. He would have doubted they had if the flashing lights hadn't told him otherwise. He latched onto the glow, using it like a beacon to guide him the last few steps to the dusty car.

  The kid was already in the back seat and Sally in place behind the wheel by the time he scrabbled into place.

  Despite her words on the threshold of the flat, Sally slotted the keys into the ignition and then froze in place.

  Dave felt like screaming at her but managed to keep enough control to merely hiss.

  'What? What?'

  'How long since you started this?'

  'What? A few months. I'm not sure. Why?'

  ‘Oh shit.’ The soldier grimaced for a second and then turned the key.

  Nothing.

  There was the briefest whir but it didn't come close to turning over. A second attempt didn't even garner that much success and the soldier slammed the steering wheel with the flat of her palm.

  ‘What?’ Dave tried to not let his panic show but it rippled through in his voice anyway. ‘What?’ he repeated, but the soldier ignored him, muttering under her breath while she bobbed and weaved trying to see through the windows.

  ‘What!’ By the third time, he was nearly shouting.

  ‘Dead battery,’ the soldier hissed, still looking around.

  ‘Wha– Why?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter. Get out of the car.’

  ‘What? But–'

  ‘Get out of the car, we’re taking that one.’ The soldier pointed to an old beat up Torana that had belonged to the guy two flats down. Prior to the apocalypse it had caused quite the stir with the body corporate by taking up residence on the street out front while the man’s other pride and joy – a slightly less beat up Torana – had filled his parking space. Apart from that the vehicle was unremarkable and Dave gaped at the rusty brown bomb unable to comprehend.

  ‘Why woul–‘ he started to protest but the soldier, already halfway out of the rental, cut him off.

  ‘It’s a manual. We can push start it.’

  'Why–'

  ‘Because this car is an auto. And that one’s on a hill you–.’ The door slammed and cut off whatever name the soldier had called him

  A second slam let him know the kid had got the message and Dave had no option but to follow suit, scrambling free, his heart thundering once more.

  It hammered double time as he set off for the other car and spotted the shadows across the street, slung like black cobwebs beneath the awning of the balcony lining the opposite apartment block.

  They’ve always been there, he told himself but still he whimpered. With each jolting step he took
, he imagined more movement within the depths of the blackness.

  Are they getting bigger?

  Are they getting closer?

  Is that movement?

  He didn't dare risk stopping long enough to take a proper look. He hit the passenger door of the car and fumbled with the handle before it dawned on him that the door was locked.

  'How are we–' he spun desperately looking for the soldier. He was just in time to see her kicking at the corner of the stone retaining wall that fronted the property next door. Two sharp knocks and a large chunk tumbled free and the soldier scooped it up. Dave ducked to one side as she hurled it into the rear window but, contrary to what he expected, the window didn’t shatter into a thousand exploding pieces. Instead it spiderwebbed into a patchy white mess with a large dent in the middle. The rock ricocheted, almost collecting the soldier as she stormed forward. Before he could blink, Sally slammed a foot into the mess that had been made of the glass and it caved inward, breaking apart all over the rear seat.

  She reached inside and unlocked first the rear door, then the front. After nearly hurling the kid into the back – completely unconcerned with the shattered glass all over the seat – she slammed the door then opened the passenger one and scrambled inside before Dave could even think to move.

  She was midway through worming her way over to the driver’s seat when Dave tried to follow. She pushed her boots into his chest and forced him back out.

  ‘No, not you,’ she hissed, finally sounding at least a little out of breath.

  Dave's panic tripled. Is she going to leave me?

  ‘You need to push,’ she hissed and Dave nearly passed out with relief.

  He slammed his head into the door arch in his haste to get back out, hitting with enough force to taste blood in his mouth.