Resurrection (Eden Book 3)

by Tony Monchinski

  Evan fired one round after another from the MM1, the fragmentation grenades detonating inside and against the house. He turned and sent his last round back down the way they had come, through the barn. It exploded, igniting the gun powder Troi had sifted around inside.

  The burning home collapsed, burying the porch and the screeching baby on it.

  “Well?” Evan asked.

  The men and women looked at each other.

  “Okay then.” Evan raised his Model 7. He hadn’t had a chance to fire it yet. He emptied a magazine out into the flaming wreckage of the house. Riley, Anthony, and Troi, having reloaded, did likewise.

  “Damn,” said Anthony.

  “Damn right.” Evan nodded.

  “What the hell were they?” asked Troi. Immense plumes of smoke roiled into the afternoon sky from the barn and the caved-in house.

  “You think the little baby survived that?” asked Riley.

  “Heck no,” said Evan. “Those were the last of the fragmentation.” He reloaded Bertha’s cylinders with buckshot rounds.

  The thing they had shot up—the thing that had been doused with battery acid and set afire with a Molotov cocktail—sat up and growled at them through its melted, steaming flesh.

  “Bertha.” Evan fired once, and the thing disintegrated from the waist up in a shower of blood and viscera that decorated the area behind it. “Good girl.” He patted the weapon.

  “Nice shot,” said Anthony, taken aback.

  “I think we should get out of here.” Riley looked around at the trees nervously.

  “Those things weren’t alone...” Troi thought of what the bloodied man they had encountered had said. About them. “Were they?”

  “I think we’re being watched.” Riley spoke above the crackle of the fires. She said it casually, but inside she was frightened.

  Troi turned and sprayed a magazine of three round bursts from her Model 7 into the trees surrounding the fiery barn. Anthony followed her example, firing into the trees past the house.

  “No-No-No!” Evan raised his rifle to join in when Riley yelled at them all. “Don’t!”

  Anthony and Troi had fired themselves out.

  “Stop!” cried Riley. “Don’t do that!”

  Anthony looked at his sister and lowered his voice. “They’re out there!”

  “I can feel them,” seconded Evan.

  “Shooting into the trees isn’t going to do anything.”

  “Can we go…” Troi asked warily, “…now?”

  Looking into the trees, Evan breathed hard.

  Anthony looked at his sister.

  “Yeah,” said Riley. “Let’s.”

  * * *

  They hustled back towards the meadow where they had encountered the man earlier in the day. As they ran, they cast concerned looks over their shoulders, back towards the plume of smoke marking the remains of the house, the barn, and the horrors known and unknown within.

  “Troi,” Evan told her on the way. “You did good back there.”

  “Me? You saved my life in the barn.”

  “The way I remember it, you beat the hell out of that thing.”

  “I froze. But thanks.”

  “Do you think they’re human?” asked Anthony.

  “They’re human,” Riley said.

  “But did you see the size of them?” Anthony didn’t sound convinced. “They’re huge.”

  “They’re mutants,” said Evan.

  “Krieger called them munts,” said Troi. “I’ve seen one or two, stillborn at the hospital.”

  “What causes that?” Anthony puzzled. “The radiation?”

  “Sure,” said Riley. “Why not.”

  Anthony thought of the conversations he’d had over the years, inside and outside of class, about the efficacy and morality of PL-422—the law that had taken mutated kids away from their parents. What kind of life had those things had? Well, Anthony knew what kind of life they’d had now. He’d seen the evidence up close. And it wasn’t any life he’d choose to help prolong. He wondered if, and how, things could have been different for the monsters back in that house, and then decided it didn’t matter. They were murderous freaks and they were dead, and they were dead because he had helped kill them. He had no qualms about that.

  Riley thought about the baby she had lost, about how she could never birth anything like one of those things they’d encountered. She had friends who’d received news from their doctors that the baby inside them had deviated from the normal developmental pathway—that congenital disorders would result in malformations and dysplasias. Each of her friends had decided to end their pregnancies rather than see them through. To a one. Riley had understood why then, and she more than understood why now.

  They reached the meadow.

  “Okay, which way do we have to go now?” Evan stared up at the sun, which had moved further west.

  “This way.’ Riley made to lead them northwest.

  “You sure?” demanded Evan.

  “Yes I’m sure.”

  Anthony still had the volume on his Geiger meter turned up loud enough for all of them to hear.

  …click…click…click…

  Now that Krieger was gone, they’d have to be careful that they did not wander into a hot zone. Anthony wondered if they hadn’t had the Geiger meters how they would know they were in areas with higher than normal radiation? Would the plants and trees be dead? Would there be no animals? Would the animals be similar to the things they’d killed? Creatures none would recognize?

  As they walked, Anthony wondered why they weren’t seeing any animals at all. He thought about how, a week before, the only thing that had been weighing on his mind was Nicki’s breaking up with him. That felt so trivial now.

  “Oh…” Troi stopped at the front of their short column and the others grouped around her, looking down upon the wet yellow leaves and what lay there.

  It was a human hand, severed at the wrist.

  “Is that that guy’s?” Anthony wondered.

  “He was missing some fingers.” Evan remembered, or thought he did. “Wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” said Riley.

  “On which hand?” Anthony tried to recall. “On his right hand?”

  “His left.”

  “Then that’s not him.” Evan wasn’t sure he was right, but he said it as firmly as he could. They needed to maintain their poise and keep their heads straight.

  “It might be him,” replied Riley.

  “And it might not—”

  “That’s a right hand, not a left hand.” Riley considered the trees about them. “Come on…”

  “How’d it get here?” Troi looked back towards the hand as they moved on.

  A kilometer later they found two arms cleaved from their owners, attached to each another with handcuffs.

  “Okay,” said Anthony. “This is definitely him.”

  “Yeah.” Evan’s offered a grim affirmation.

  “Where’s the rest of him then?” Troi beseeched the others, obviously distressed.

  “Where are they?” Evan asked Riley.

  “Maybe they killed him,” said Anthony. “Went back to their house.”

  “They’re gonna find it…” Evan didn’t relish the prospect. “They’re gonna be pissed.”

  Riley said, “Maybe. We have to keep going.”

  They didn’t need to be told twice.

  …click…click…click…

  When they found the dismembered torso, they almost didn’t stop. Riley made them. “Wait.” She prodded the torso with one foot, flipping it over.

  “One nipple…” Troi said.

  “That’s our guy,” said Evan, exhaling.

  They picked up their pace and hoofed it for another hour, speaking little amongst themselves. The steady, intermittent clicks from Anthony’s Geiger meter continued unabated. As they walked, the sun began its final descent. They stopped to rest and drink from their canteens and water bladders.

  …click…click…clic
k…

  “You think they’re out there?” Troi sat on a rock, looking ready to spring off it at a moment’s notice.

  “Yeah.” Riley wouldn’t sit. “I think so.”

  Evan needed to urinate. He considered walking off on his own where the women couldn’t see him, but decided that, given the circumstances, no one would mind. He lay Bertha down on the pine nettles behind the rock Troi perched upon and walked a meter past it, unbuckling his pants and beginning to relieve himself, his Model 7 slung on his side.

  “We have to start thinking about where we’re going to spend the night,” said Riley.

  “I don’t want to sleep out here…” said Anthony. “Not if any more of those things are out here.”

  …click…click…click…

  “Yeah, well maybe…” Evan finished his business and readjusted his pants. “Maybe we can find a house or building or—I don’t know—a friggin’ cave or something to sleep in.”

  “Sleep?” Troi laughed nervously. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”

  …click—click—click…

  “Wait a…” Anthony looked down at the LCD read out on his Geiger.

  Evan stopped what he was doing and stared off into the trees. Troi popped off her rock.

  …click—click—cliiiiiii—

  “Here they come!” Troi cried out, firing her M7 into the forest around them repeatedly.

  “I see them!” Evan called, firing three-round bursts at the shadows he thought he saw. “I see them!”

  Riley and Anthony couldn’t help themselves, and joined in the salvo. Each fired in a different direction. Evan and Riley fired short bursts into the trees and had just swapped out magazines when Troi and Anthony, firing on semi-automatic, emptied their magazines.

  “Wait!” Riley yelled over Troi and Anthony’s gunfire. “Wait! Wait! Wait!”

  But they didn’t. It wasn’t until they’d fired out a second magazine apiece, the smell of cordite hanging heavy in the air, that they listened to what she had to say.

  “Save your ammunition,” Riley implored them. “They want us to fire ourselves out.”

  “Come on, you sons of bitches,” Evan peered into the darkening shadows between trees.

  “How many magazines does everybody have left?” Riley asked.

  “Two,” said Anthony and Troi said “three.”

  Evan lied. “I’ve got ten.” He looked at Riley and whispered, “You wanted us to lie, right? In case they’re listening?”

  …click…click…click…

  “They’re not close enough to hear us.” Riley noted the time between Anthony’s Geiger meter’s readouts.

  As if to belie her words a devilish laugh broke from the trees in the distance—

  “What is that?” Troi jumped back.

  —and was joined by a second, and then a third and a fourth cackle, an unearthly cachinnation that raised the hairs on their respective necks.

  “What is that!?” Troi shouted again before firing a third magazine into the trees.

  “Troi! Stop it!” Riley pushed the woman. The laughter had stopped as abruptly as it’d started.

  “Move,” Evan hissed.

  They ran.

  “Stick together!” Riley was in the lead and called back. “Anthony, closer to me!”

  “You get closer to me.”

  “Troi!” Evan brought up the rear. “Do not shoot. You hear me? Don’t shoot again. You’ll shoot me.”

  “I won’t. I won’t shoot.”

  “Dammit!” Evan slapped himself in the forehead as they jogged.

  “What is it?” asked Troi.

  “I left Bertha—I left the grenade launcher back by the rock.”

  “Forget it,” Anthony called to him.

  Riley moved as fast as she could while scanning the way ahead. Who knew where the mutants were, how many of them there were, or what they had planned for her and her brother and friends. Part of her wanted to fire into the trees like Troi had, like they all had earlier, but she knew that’s exactly what the things in the woods wanted her to do. Because once they had spent all their ammunition, they would be completely vulnerable. Judging by the size of the things at the farmhouse, Riley wasn’t so certain how well her taekwondo would fare against whatever was in the woods with them.

  “Look, Riley. I’m just—if we don’t—”

  “Shut up, Anthony. Just shut up and keep running.”

  “I’m kind of glad…” Troi huffed as she ran. “…that Krieger isn’t around…for this.”

  “Are you kidding?” Evan replied. “He wouldn’t have let us…wouldn’t have let us walk into that.”

  The trees ended at the base of a vertical rock face. The rock reached up above their heads several meters.

  “Drop your guns!”

  Two men and a woman with chop sticks in her short, red hair stood looking down at them. They had guns aimed at the four friends.

  “Don’t shoot us!” Troi pled, hands on her knees.

  “We can’t…” Riley managed between pants. “…we can’t put our guns down!”

  “We’re being chay…we’re being chased!” gasped Evan.

  “Okay then,” said one of the men. “Don’t drop your guns.”

  “Who are you?” asked the other man.

  “Please…you gotta help us,” Troi was nearly crying.

  “Lower your weapons at least, all right?” said the first man. “Look, I’m lowering mine.”

  “Okay…okay…” Riley pressed her hand palm-down in the air and she, her brother, Troi, and Evan all lowered the barrels of their M7s.

  The woman on the rock was still drawing down on the four of them.

  “Red, come on,” said Keith. “Lower your gun.”

  “I’m not lowering my gun.”

  “Who’s chasing you?” David called to the people below.

  “They’re out there!” cried Troi.

  “They’re going to kill us!” seconded Anthony.

  “Who?” Keith was intrigued.

  “They’re—” Riley looked for the right word. “…they’re monsters or something.”

  Keith looked at David and David looked at Keith, and then they both looked at Red. Little Red lowered her Noveske N4.

  “Cosmo.” Keith nodded his head as he said the name.

  “What? You know them?” Riley stared up at the three. She and her friends looked even more frightened.

  “Yeah, we know them—but they’re no friends to us.”

  “You better get yourselves up here,” said David. He disappeared for a moment, and then a rope dropped down to them. “Up then.”

  They clambered up the rocks one at a time to where Red, David, and Keith waited. Each introduced themselves to the others as they gained the top of the rocks then turned to watch expectantly as the next of their friends ascended.

  Evan was the last up, and he half expected to feel one of the mutant things wrap its hand around his boot and yank him down off the rope to his death among its freak brethren. But he made it to the top unmolested.

  David pulled the rope up after Evan.

  Keith cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to the forest below. “Cosmo! Hey, Cosmo!”

  There was no response, and then a lone figure came out of the trees and walked into the open.

  “Cosmo—that you?” Keith squinted.

  “Yeah.” It was darkening, but the thing who answered looked like a normal-sized man. He didn’t look like either of the things at the house and barn. “And who’s you?”

  “It’s me, Cos. Keith.”

  “Keith who?”

  “Keith Carradine. And my brother, David. You remember David, don’t you? And lil’ Red.”

  “Oh. Red’s there?”

  “She is.” Keith glanced over his shoulder to Red. “Want to say hi?”

  “No.”

  “Keep that bitch away from me,” the man Keith referred to as Cosmo warned.

  “Cosmo, now why are you chasi
ng these people?”

  “They killed Chilly and Guntag. Winslow too.”

  “They killed Chilly and Guntag?” Keith mulled it over. “And Winslow too. Damn, Cosmo. Why’d they do that?”

  “I don’t know. Ask ‘em yourselves.”

  Keith turned to look at the four new comers. “I think I know the answer, but humor me, here, all right? Why’d you go and kill Chilly and Guntag and Winslow?”

  “Because that fre—” Riley caught herself “They came after us with a power saw.”

  “They were going to kill us and eat us,” said Anthony.

  “They killed a bunch of people,” said Evan.

  “They wouldn’t have eaten you,” replied Keith. “All the other stuff—yeah. Cosmo,” He turned back to address the man below. “They said Chilly and Guntag were going to try and kill them.”

  “Yeah, well, be that as it may they killed my kin. They ruined my house. And little Winslow never really hurt nobody.”

  “So…” Keith called back. He paused, looking at the four friends, winking at them, turning back to the man. “What do you suggest we do about that?”

  “Send ‘em down to us.”

  The four friends shifted, fretful and disquieted, looking from each other to the two brothers and the diminutive red haired woman.

  “You know I can’t do that, Cosmo.”

  “I knew you’d say that. Damn you, Carradine.”

  “Right. Listen, Cos. They’re ours now, okay?” Keith looked over his shoulder at the four again after he’d said this. The word “ours” evoked uneasy glances among the friends. He mouthed “It’s okay” before giving his attention to Cosmo again. “They’re with us now.”

  “It’s okay,” repeated David, loud enough for only the four to hear him.

  Cosmo did not sound happy. “And I knew you’d say that, too.”

  The man was not alone down there any longer. A larger, sinister form, similar in size and girth to the thing that had come out of the house, was between two trees where they could see it. Twilight shadowed most of its body but they could all discern its fat nose, the expansive slab of forehead hanging heavy over its eyes, and its enormous ears. In one hand it held an improvised club, a rounded trunk of wood with rusty nails driven through it. Its other hand gripped something that it had pressed down to its crotch.