by D. S Mac
Drake and Fergus stooped but continued moving slower and lower to avoid detection. They circled a few destroyed vehicles that were smothered with the orange dust. Drake laid a hand down as they passed the last car, leaving an imprint and his hand caked in thick dirt. He brushed it off on his jeans, looked back up, and Fergus stumbled into him, knocking him on his arse.
“Shit, what’s going on?”
Fergus turned his head and held a finger to his lips. As he looked back over, he pointed to show Drake where to look. Drake carefully got back up, and as soon as he saw, his mouth dropped open in shock. The most grotesque things he had ever seen were writhing, twisting and shuffling down the road towards them. They were orange-skinned, which was almost see-through. Their bones and veins could be seen throbbing. Arms and legs were coming out of places they shouldn’t. One in particular had one arm coming out of the back of his neck while the other was protruding from its hip. Legs twisted at impossible angles, face contorted in pain. Another had its head upside down, growing from its belly, while its arms and legs had been swapped. The last one had an extra leg supporting it from its spine’s base, with its head sideways, cheek attached to the neck and spinal column. In sync, they all stopped juddering and cocked their heads in the direction of Drake and Fergus.
“Fuck! Don’t move, Ferg.” The boys stood dead still, not even blinking.
“Ya wouldnae ride them in tae battle,” Fergus joked, but inside, his blood was boiling with fear. His heart rate had trebled and was thumping through his chest, threatening to burst out. The beast with its head on its belly reached out its distorted arms and screamed. They all joined in the chorus, and with an awful crunching of bones and joints, they barrelled towards their prey.
Chapter 6 – Screamers
The warped humanoid creatures came crunching down the road with such speed it was astonishing considering they were so deformed. Within a few seconds, they were almost upon Drake and Fergus. Their blood-curdling screams were a constantly repeated horror and could probably be heard for miles. Up close, Drake could see that their faces were also beyond deformed. It was more like everything had been rearranged. One had eyes on its strangely elongated forehead, spread so far apart and looking in different directions, while its mouth was twisted sideways on its shortened cheek, with no sign of a nose. The one slightly behind it had eyes at opposite ends of its head, top and bottom, while its mouth chattered in the place its nose would have been. The last one seemingly had no features apart from a mouth on its overly large head. It wasn’t until its cracking limbs were raised that Drake could see its eyes on the palms.
Drake snapped out of his confusion and went straight for his gun from the back of his jeans. “Shit, must have dropped my gun.” As he paced backwards, he grabbed Fergus by the arm. “Ferg, come on.”
They both turned around and sprinted back the way they’d come. The creatures screamed at their escaping prey and somehow forced more energy into themselves because they picked up speed to an inhuman level and were once again catching up with the boys.
“Run! RUN!” Drake gasped as he kicked himself into another gear he didn’t know he had. They ran, hurdling over rubble and car bonnets. Frantically searching for an idea or an epiphany, they took a left at one of the crossroads they’d passed earlier and kept running as fast as their legs could go. After they leapt over a few more abandoned cars, they were stopped dead in their tracks by another dead end caused by a toppled building. Drake looked back to the creatures, which were still gaining on them. They had seconds left until they’d be on top of them.
Fergus spotted what he thought was a way through an old store. “Drake, follow me!”
They both ran into the store’s remains and launched themselves through the aisles. Not much was left standing, but it was an old garden ware and home improvement shop, from what they could see. Dirty paint cans riddled the floor and what was left of the shelving. As they passed the first set of aisles, Drake had an idea. He turned around quickly, grabbed the shelving, and heaved it as hard as he could. It groaned with the pressure, and with an almighty crash, it came down. Paint cans rained on top of the creatures, giving them extra time. Fergus grabbed Drake and pulled him to continue running. The centre of the store was completely bare. All the stock and shelving that would have been there was missing; corners and lengths of the surrounding shelves looked like they had been torn completely off. Fergus looked around for a way out as Drake noticed a couple of valuable items. He walked over to the broken shelving, reached in, and pulled out two hammers.
“That’ll do nicely. Ferg, catch.” He threw a hammer to Fergus, who caught it, looked at it, and smiled.
“Nice find, fella.” Fergus twirled it around with his wrist and spotted the fire exit at the back. “Drake, that way.” He pointed.
“Got ya. Let’s not wait for those things to get up.” They both started to climb their way through destroyed shelving and rubble from the store’s central roof.
As they climbed, a sound made the hairs on the backs of their necks stand up. The shrill screaming continued and echoed throughout the store, bounced off the far walls, and hurtled back to their ears, followed by metal banging and the sound of paint cans being knocked all over the place. The sounds resonated throughout the store, confusing their sense of direction. Drake and Fergus picked up the pace, climbing over the mound of debris, feeling like expert mountaineers. They were shimmying along, finding hand- and footholds at a fantastic rate. Drake risked a look behind only to see one of the creatures contorting its way up the mound. It had flipped over into a gymnastic-like crab position and, with a spine-tingling crack, had righted the top half of its body 180 degrees back over into a hunched position. It continued to do this several times, making up a crazy amount of distance in a lot less time than it took them to climb up there.
“Flaming heck, this thing is like something out of a circus.” Drake turned back and picked up the pace to follow Fergus down the other side.
As Drake reached the peak, he held on with his right hand and squatted back as far as possible without losing his balance, and jumped. He spun his body around in a quick forty-five-degree movement and latched back onto the mountain of destruction. He was in a better position to climb back down and managed to pick up his pace. Then the distorted creature bent and snapped into place above him and let out a piercing scream in his face. It grabbed Drake’s arm, digging its sharp nailed fingers into his flesh. Blood seeped from the wounds and streamed down towards his hand. Drake winced but held his ground. “Not today!” He pulled his arm free, latched onto the scrawny thing’s arm, and heaved with all his strength. The creature completely lost its balance, went head over heels, and tumbled down the rubble mountain with a barrage of thuds, which broke several boulders. “Ferg, bash the bloody thing.”
Fergus, who had reached the bottom seconds ago, looked up to see the scraggy thing bouncing off bits of rubble, plummeting towards him. He stepped aside, withdrew his hammer, and buried the hammer in its head with a gross crack. He stamped a foot onto its chin and yanked the hammer back out. The squelch and splatter of blood spurted out and sprayed up Fergus’s arm. He pulled away, leaving the creature with its gaping head wound twitching.
Drake reached the bottom and stepped around the messed-up thing.
“Still die easily, then?” As he kicked its mangled face, more penetrative screaming filled the air. They both looked back up the mound to see the two other monsters contorting their way down to their fallen ally.
This time Drake nudged Fergus to get going to the fire exit he had spotted. When he reached it, Drake smashed his palms into the bar release, leaving bloody smears across the dusty metal, but it was shut tight and would not budge. They rammed into it with their shoulders and attempted to boot it down with no luck at all. “Damn! We’re shit out of luck.” Drake squatted down and ran his hands through his hair. “Any ideas, Ferg?”
Fergus joined him, eyes still roving for something, anything. “Nothing, mate, we’
re going to have to fight.”
The creatures continued their descent, looking like something out of a horror film. Their spines arched backwards, crunching as they flipped back over. Drake and Fergus raised their hammers, placing their feet firmly in a prime attacking position. The blood streaming down Drake’s arm had become a slippery mess, making it difficult to keep hold of the hammer. “Come on then, you ugly pieces of shit.”
The one on the left was the first to lunge straight at Drake. He sidestepped, and the creature overshot, but as it spun around, the arm on the back of its head collided with his chest, scratching four surface wounds through his shirt and skin. Blood seeped through, but this time he was lucky.
Fergus was distracted looking at Drake, deciding how to proceed, when in that split second, the other creature launched itself at him, baring jagged, sharp teeth that were aimed for his neck. They tumbled to the floor, kicking up dust particles. Fergus managed to get a knee up, and with all his strength, he forced the creature up and over his head. It slammed hard onto its back amongst fallen shelving. It squealed, an awful high-pitched noise, as a protruding shard of shelf pierced its stomach through. Translucent intestines dangled from the end of the spike, its blood pooling on the floor.
It twisted its arms around to its back and forced itself off the shard, its blood cascading to the floor like a waterfall containing organs. Both the creatures were back in the fight within seconds and rounding toward their prey. They both screamed in unison, spittle foaming at the corners of their mouths, murder in their eyes. They lunged again. This time, Drake was prepared. He sidestepped again, then ducked the swinging claw and swung as hard as he could with the hammer. It connected with the creature’s spine/shoulder blade. It arched its back in pain, let out another scream and snapped its head around in a complete 180. Fergus didn’t wait for the other creature to attack. Instead, he ran at it and blocked the creature’s right-footed strike, which knocked him off balance. He dived into a tight roll, came back up, and smashed the hammer into the creature’s hip, splitting the skin and revealing bone. It fell to the ground, contorting its back, and spun so it was upside down on its feet.
Drake was psyching up for the next round. He shrugged his shoulders and limbered up his right arm. His blood-smothered right hand had become a problem. His only choice was to swap hands. At the same time, both Drake and the creature ran towards each other, weapons bared. Drake with his hammer and the beast with its claws and gnashing teeth. He dropped to his hip, slid along and backhanded the monster’s knee. It overshot its attack, stumbled on its ruined knee, and barrelled toward the floor. As it did so, Drake grabbed its other leg and pulled hard, decreasing its distance to the floor. As it smashed face-first into the dust-covered painted cement floor, he jumped up onto its back, grabbed the hand that was frantically lashing out from its behind, snapped it to the side with a loud crack, and bone shot out through the mutilated limb. Drake roared a pure rage-filled throaty scream and buried the hammer into the back of its head. The creature let out an awful yelp, blood pooled from the wound, and then it was still.
Fergus was still fighting the other one. They had had another round, but this time Fergus was worse off with two gouges across his face, missing his eye by mere centimetres. They were both gearing up for another attack when Fergus noticed Drake sneaking around behind the creature. “Come on, ya howlin’ jobby!”
It screamed and lunged for him. He dropped to his back and rolled. The creature tried to correct its course mid-flight and ended up smashing into the floor. This gave Drake the time to get up behind it and crack its skull. As Drake pulled his arm back to strike, the creature sat bolt upright backwards, spine crunching as it did so. It bared its teeth and went for Drake’s face. As it was about to take a chunk out of his face, Fergus came running past, and with every bit of strength he could muster, he smashed the hammer into the side of the creature’s head. It flopped to the floor with a thud. Drake and Fergus fell to the floor, absolutely exhausted but alive.
Chapter 7– Fear
Brendan Forrest woke with a jump. He was utterly parched, and his lips rubbed together like sandpaper. He tried to build up saliva to wet his lips, but nothing would come. As he rolled onto his left side to make it easier to push himself up, his filthy lab coat, now caked in dirt and grime, billowed over his arm. He couldn’t help but wonder if everything that happened had been a dream. It was pitch black, so he couldn’t see. There were no sounds, not even a light whistle of wind or the crackle from lightning above. Then as he was pulling himself up, he realised it was not a dream, and hell still imprisoned him. A sliver of light forced its way through a gap in the wall behind him, and he could see he was still in the same destroyed shop. Realising he must have passed out, he slapped himself in the face. “Come on, come on, come on.” It came out husky, his throat struggling with every word, so dry and tight that a swallow felt like trying to drink a rubber balloon.
Eventually, he managed to get himself to his feet and decided to look around the rest of the store. He was shattered, weak and could not think straight. A pounding headache throbbed, and his back ached from sleeping on a solid floor. Every movement was a struggle, but he managed to check out a few more aisles, clambering over more rubble and broken shelving. The trays that would’ve been filled with fruit and vegetables were now a stinking overflowing mess of decomposed food. The back wall, although covered in orange dust, was still in relatively good condition. It consisted of an open milk fridge and a row of freezers full of frozen food. There was no way they were still working, and the milk would have been entirely off, but seeing at least a small part resemble his normal gave him a pinch of hope. He rounded the last corner down to the previous half aisle and widened his eyes in disbelief.
Two rows of shelving on either side still stood for about twenty meters until a collapsed roof met them. But the rows of shelving to his left were stocked full of canned food, baked beans, cannellini beans and butter beans, along with tinned peaches and other fruits. Without even thinking, he snatched up as many of the peaches as he could, wiped off the dust, cracked open the tin with the pull ring, and shovelled them into his mouth. They were so juicy and soft that they slid down his throat. He drank up all the juice in the can and grabbed another one. Didn’t care that they were slightly sour because right then, they were the best thing he had ever eaten.
Brendan sat there on a large piece of debris with his head in his hands, wondering what on earth he would do. He had no clue where he was or even how to survive. He had spent his life academically and knew almost nothing practical. “Right, can’t sit here forever.” With a renewed bit of life and energy, he stood up, clambered back the way he came, and stepped outside. He rubbed his eyes with his dirty hands and ran them both through his hair, where he left one rubbing the nape of his neck.
He knew first and foremost that the food he had found was like gold dust in this hellish plane, and there had to be a way to remember where it was or at least make it more recognisable than the rest of the destroyed buildings. For now, he settled on using his short-term memory to memorise the route back, and off he set. No plan exactly, but it was better than sitting around.
Brendan wandered straight up the road outside. The orange hue from the sky cast a horrible light over everything, making it difficult to see more than twenty meters or so. He still could not believe his eyes with the marvellous lightning storm that seemed to erupt above constantly. Apart from the short break earlier, it hadn’t taken a breath. At first, each flash from the bolts made him jump. A few hundred meters down the road and a handful of jump scares later, he could block it out. He passed building after building, each one resembling a demolition site, barely a wall still standing, no roofs or contents to speak of.
After an immeasurable amount of time, he finally came across a busier, more filled part of the nightmare world. Here there was a lot more to be seen. Whatever had happened to destroy everything certainly did happen here, too, but it seemed a lot less affected. Buildi
ngs were still in pieces. However, instead of parts of walls, they still had a structure like the first store he had found. Doorways still stood, minus the glass at least. Roofing looked to be intact, but the best part was that these buildings were not empty. Brendan ran for the first entrance he saw. He was so excited he almost caught his foot on fallen bricks. He noticed, with seconds to spare, jumped over them, placed his hands on a car bonnet, and vaulted himself over. He took the last few strides with more awareness and made it to the entrance. With his right hand on the door frame, he laid his head on his arm to catch his breath. The delight of finding a small glimpse of normality had taken it out of him.
He took a few tentative steps into the shop, scouting panoramically from left to right, trying to see what kind of store he was in, but with the dark orange light inside, he really couldn’t make anything out. He decided to proceed down the right-hand side, where the store seemed to be more intact. As he stepped down from his rubble-strewn perch that was the doorway, he spotted something that caught his attention, jutting out from between pieces of wall and concrete. Carefully, he squatted down to get a better look. Like everything else, it was caked in a thick layer of dust, so he pulled down his sleeve and brushed it off. His eyes shot wide. He gasped and took a step back, catching his heel on more bricks behind him. He found himself off balance and falling hard straight onto his arse. He reached out for anything to try to stop himself falling farther and, by pure luck, managed to latch on to thick black cables. His right arm jolted at the sudden shock of the force, threatening to tear his shoulder from its socket. His body swung around where his centre of gravity had shifted, but he managed to right himself. Using the cables, he hauled himself back up and returned to the top.
