by Scott Shoyer
Unrecognizable visions raced through his head, but Butsko couldn’t focus on any one thought. The darkness of space, a craft crashing into the ocean, strange-looking Beings working on some kind of formula, the Beings placing themselves in stasis. Butsko caught flashes of these images, but none of them made much sense.
Except for one.
Butsko knew something, some things, were coming to Earth, and when they arrived, they would set the final stages of their plan into motion.
Butsko’s yellow eyes stared at The Discovery as his hand fell to his side. The Discovery was a beacon to the things that traveled here, but it was so much more. It was the object that wouldn’t just usher in The Convergence, but also the end of all things; and he, along with Fi, were going to be a part of that final change.
6
Twenty Miles Outside Huntsville, Texas
Sam Houston Trailer Park
Brian, Stewart, Emily, and Kimberly ran toward the bus they’d called home for almost two years. All around them was chaos as the others fought off the zombies. Stewart led them toward the AC/DC tour bus, his hatchet hammers clenched in his hands, and prayed the door wasn’t locked.
Stewart, like most of the others, was not a violent man. He got into the standard scuffles growing up, but always preferred using his head over his hands. At a young age, Stewart was thirsty for knowledge. He read anything he got his hands on. While most kids his age chased girls and played sports, Stewart was either locked away in the library or in his bedroom reading the classics. Shakespeare, Milton, Chaucer, Wordsworth, Thoreau, Kerouac. He devoured them all and always looked forward to the next book.
Once the internet became a regular part of life, the world opened up to him. Knowledge was even easier to attain and he could share his passion with other like-minded people. Stewart visited countless chatrooms on various topics and found, one fateful night, a chatroom that really challenged him and his views. In that chatroom, he was engaged as others talked about esoteric knowledge and other topics that shattered his previous view of the world. Most others would call the people in that room “conspiracy theorists,” but Stewart never liked that term. These people observed the world around themselves and dared to look behind the scenes. These people questioned why things happened and why things were the way they were.
These people refused to believe in coincidences.
Stewart thought he had a good grasp on things but realized he simply accepted things the way they were and never questioned why. Some of the individuals in the chatroom had some pretty far-out theories. That lizard humanoids lived at the center of the earth and were the true rulers of the world. That human-fish hybrids controlled the world’s economy from their base in Atlantis. But the theorists explored the connections between world events and refused to believe in coincidences. These researchers didn’t posit the existence of non-human overlords. These people knew the monsters that really pulled the strings all over the world were all-too-human.
A zombie jumped out from behind a trailer and grabbed for Stewart. Without slowing, Stewart raised the hatchet-hammer in this right hand and removed the creature’s hand right above the wrist, then buried the other weapon into its skull. He stopped running just long enough to free the weapon that lodged itself into brain and bone.
“Come on!” Stewart yelled to the others. Stewart heard the clang of the shovels as Emily and Kimberly kept the monsters away from them. Stewart was worried about Brian. He talked a tough game, but he was just a kid, and no amount of video game play could prepare anyone for this level of real life violence.
Stewart looked over his shoulder and saw Brian as he swung the edger like it was some kind of horizontal pendulum. He sliced through one zombie’s abdomen and watched as the creature’s guts poured out over its pants. Brian seemed a little stunned when he realized the creature felt no pain, but laughed when the zombie tripped over its own intestines.
As they approached the bus, they saw that no zombies were around it. Stewart ran right toward the doors of the bus and pushed them open. Brian, Emily, and Kimberly ran inside and hid behind the seats.
“Did any of those things follow us?” Kimberly asked.
“I don’t know,” Brian said. “We’ll find out in a second.”
Stewart hid in the row right behind the driver’s seat and peered out the window. They windows were darkened and offered them good cover, but Stewart worried that some of the creatures might have seen them run onto the bus.
“I don’t see any of them,” Stewart said.
They heard the occasional gunshot and screams from the others. Stewart felt helpless.
“Shouldn’t we be helping them?” Kimberly asked.
“We can’t stay in here while the others are in danger,” Emily said.
“I know that,” Stewart shot back. “But we need a plan. We can’t just run out there and jump into the fray without a plan.”
Kimberly started to say something, but was cut off when something slammed into the side of the bus.
“Shit!” Stewart shouted. “There’s three of those things towards the back of the bus,” he said as he watched them through the bus’s side mirror.
“Shut up,” Brian said barely above a whisper. “Maybe they’ll go away.”
A fourth creature slammed against the doors of the bus and made the four of them jump.
“Keep quiet,” Stewart whispered.
The other three zombies joined the fourth at the doors of the bus and pushed against them.
“They’re gonna get in,” Emily said.
“No they won’t,” Stewart said, but didn’t believe his own words.
“What the fuck are we gonna do!” Brian yelled.
The four creatures rocked the bus back and forth as they clawed at the bus’s door.
“Fuck this,” Stewart said as he jumped into the driver’s seat. Murphy always preached about keeping the keys in the ignition at all times. Even on the few occasions when they’d pulled onto the side of the road so they could all get out the bus and stretch their legs, Murphy had always left the keys in the ignition. You never know when you’ll need to make a fast getaway, the man had reasoned.
Stewart started up the bus and the engine roared to life. The noise made the creatures pound harder on the doors and attracted more of them to the party.
“Where the hell are we gonna go?” Kimberly asked. “We can’t just leave the others.”
“You should know me better than that, Kim,” Stewart said. “We’re the cavalry.”
*****
Riker, Hector, Teagan, and Paula approached the trailer that moments ago had exploded into a bright fireball. Riker and Teagan shot the zombies that were still around the wreckage. After the guards shot the zombies, Hector would use the fire axe to cut off their legs right below the knee.
“Do you see anyone around here?” Paula asked as she scanned around the burning trailer.
“Whoever triggered this explosion must have run off,” Riker answered.
Just as Teagan turned and shot a zombie in the head, another creature jumped over one of the burning tires and raced toward them. Paula took two steps forward and impaled the thing on her pitchfork. She leaned into the thrust and pushed the thing to the ground and held it there. The zombie swung its arms and tried to get up, but Paula pushed all her weight on the pitchfork and the creature was pinned.
“Little help!” Paula cried out.
Before she could say anything else, the creature’s head split right down the middle as Hector’s axe finished the bastard off. Blood splattered everywhere as the creature’s brains oozed around the blade.
“Thanks, Hector.” Paula smiled.
Teagan put her pistol away as more of the creatures surrounded them.
“Uhhh, Riker,” Teagan said as her voice cracked. “We need to do something quick.”
Both Riker and Teagan had their batons out and swung them to keep the things away.
Hector struck another zombie with the axe and buried the b
lade through its collarbone. The axe was stuck, so Hector pushed the creature to the ground by the axe’s handle and stepped on its face to free the weapon.
Paula impaled another zombie and pushed it into the trailer fire. After a few seconds, she removed the pitchfork and watched the creature burn.
Riker beat a zombie to the ground and stomped on its head while he fended off another charging creature. All four of them looked around as they tried to find a safe place to run to.
On the other side of the trailer park, the tour bus’s headlights turned on.
“The bus!” Riker shouted. “We need to get to the tour bus!”
The others looked at the bus and shook their heads in agreement.
Paula removed the pitchfork from a zombie’s neck while Hector cracked another creature’s skull with the blunt end of the axe.
“Come on!” Teagan yelled as she ran toward the bus and the others followed.
*****
Toxic tried to be as quiet as he could be. He wedged himself underneath the trailer and scanned the area for zombies. His heart pounded in his head and he wouldn’t have been surprised if the zombies heard it as well. After Reilly had pushed him out of the way, he’d dove under the trailer to escape the zombie onslaught. He’d looked at Reilly and had known there was nothing he could have done for her.
Just as he was about to leave his hiding spot, he heard someone approach.
“Well, well,” said the man. “Look at you.” Toxic couldn’t see the man’s face, but something about the man’s demeanor told Toxic he should stay put.
The man crouched down onto one knee and got closer to Reilly, his back toward Toxic.
“Lemme guess,” he continued, “you played the hero, pushed someone out of the way, and got yourself crushed for your efforts. Am I right?”
Toxic could see Reilly through the man’s legs and she didn’t look good. Toxic knew that trailer crushed her body from the shoulders down and was surprised she was still alive.
“And what about you, fella?” the man said as he turned his attention to Gary. Gary tried to wiggle underneath the trailer.
“Please, help us,” Gary asked the man. “Those things will be back any minute.”
The mysterious man walked over to Gary and picked up the garden trowel that lay next to him.
“Is this your weapon?” the man asked. “What were you planning on doing, planting them?”
There was something familiar about the man’s laugh. Toxic knew he’d heard that laugh before. It was the sadistic laugh of someone who relished in the pain of others. Toxic knew that laughter well. He’d heard it all the time in Huntsville.
“This ain’t even sharp,” the man continued as he ran his finger along the trowel. “But at least it’s got a point on it. I guess you could stab one of those fuckers.”
Toxic lay as still as a painting. He didn’t want the man to know he was being watched. Toxic put on a tough front, but the real Toxic was just a man who tried to survive. He’d survived Huntsville by joining a gang. There’d been no choice. If you didn’t have other people watching your back in prison, you weren’t going to make it. But being in the gang was a give and take situation. He’d received protection, but he’d also had to provide it. Toxic had let go of the good man he knew was inside him and had embraced the animal. To survive, he’d needed to develop a second sense. If he’d let people walk over him, he would’ve become someone’s bitch. He may not be a tough bad ass, but he was definitely no one’s bitch.
Toxic had learned the game inside prison. One of the most important lessons wasn’t learning to fight, but learning who to fight. There were just certain people you didn’t fuck with in prison. Mess with the wrong guy and you end up with a shiv in your throat.
The man Toxic was now watching was definitely one of those “wrong men.” His instincts screamed out that the man in front of him was a dangerous and unstable person who enjoyed inflicting pain and watching others suffer.
“You ever stab anyone?” the man asked Gary.
“Please help me,” Gary said as he ignored the question.
“I asked you a fucking question, boy!” the man yelled. “Have you ever stabbed anyone?”
“No,” Gary said through clenched teeth. “I never had any reason to stab anyone.”
“It ain’t like pulling the trigger of a gun,” the man said. “It’s more personal. Blood gets on your hands, and if you’re close enough, you can feel their last breath as it leaves their body.” The man sat down next to Gary, his back still facing Toxic.
“Taking a man’s last breath is a gift,” he continued. “It is intimate. Married couples don’t even share in that kind of intimacy. Sometimes a last breath can be given to you. Have you ever been bedside as a loved one passed away, Gary?”
“N-N-No,” Gary stuttered.
“Me neither,” said the man as he looked up. He continued to run his finger along the trowel. “Taking a man’s last breath, though… that’s real special. Looking a person in the eye as you coax that final breath out of them is… is something different. You feel powerful. You’re in complete control of that person’s life.”
The man slowly dragged the trowel across Gary’s cheek.
“You can see the fear in their eyes,” the man continued. “You have the power to either end or prolong a person’s life.”
The man violently jabbed the trowel into Gary’s eye. Gary screamed as the trowel popped his eyeball and scraped along the bone on the inside of his eye socket.
Unfortunately for Gary, his scream was just another sound that filled the already-noisy night.
Toxic covered his mouth as he watched the man butcher Gary. After he pulled Gary’s eye out, the man used the tool to slice open Gary’s nostrils and cut through his cheeks. The man finally stabbed Gary repeatedly in the neck. As Gary clung to life, the man leaned in until he was face-to-face with Gary.
Toxic thought the man whispered something to Gary, but as he watched, it looked more like he kissed Gary. Toxic couldn’t turn away from the gruesome sight and his eyes grew wide when he figured out what the man was doing.
The man hadn’t kissed Gary. He’d taken his last breath.
The man savored his kill as he wiped the bloody trowel on Gary’s shirt. As he stood, Toxic saw the man’s brutal work. If Toxic didn’t already know the man under the trailer was Gary, he would’ve never have guessed. There was nothing left of Gary’s face to recognize.
Reilly’s body moved underneath the trailer and it caught the man’s attention.
“Well, well,” the man said. “Looks like there might be a little more life left in you after all,” he said as he walked over to Reilly.
Toxic kept his hand over his mouth and watched as the man bent down on his knees and went to work on Reilly with the trowel.
Toxic knew it wouldn’t be long before the man took her last breath as well.
*****
The trailer rocked back and forth as Braden searched the cabinets for anything he might be able to use as a weapon. The five zombies outside continued to slam against the trailer door, and it was clear they weren’t going to go away on their own.
There were extra propane tanks around the trailer to supply the stoves, and Braden considered blowing the trailer up, but he had no way of doing that safely on his own.
One of the zombies managed to get its arm through the front door and searched for whatever held the door shut. Braden jumped toward it with a kitchen knife, stabbed it through the wrist, and pinned it to the wall. Behind him, another zombie crashed through a window and managed to get half its body into the trailer.
Braden looked around and saw a box cheese grater on the floor. Braden picked it up and ran toward the zombie. He grabbed the creature in a headlock so it couldn’t bite him and rubbed the cheese grater all over its face. He expected the zombie’s flesh to be rotten, but it was surprisingly firm. Long pieces of flesh fell from the grater as Braden ran the kitchen tool across its face. He stopped when he fe
lt the grater hit bone. The vibration made Braden gag and he dropped the instrument.
Braden still had the zombie in a headlock and looked for something to kill it with. On the counter next to him he saw a pizza wheel. He grabbed it ran it over the creature’s throat. The wheel wasn’t sharp enough, so he kept running it back and forth across the creature’s skin. He lost all track of time with the zombie. Braden had his teeth gritted and looked toward the ceiling as he continued to run the pizza wheel back and forth. He felt it finally sink into the zombie’s throat, but that only made the zombie thrash around more.
Braden pushed harder on the wheel and knew he was cutting through the zombie’s neck muscles. He kept pushing harder and slicing until the pizza wheel wouldn’t move anymore. The creature went limp in his arm and Braden let go of the kitchen tool. The zombie was halfway in the trailer and lay there, dead, with its head dangling halfway off its body and the pizza wheel still lodged in its throat.
Outside, Braden heard muffled voices and a few pops from a gun. The zombie whose arm was pinned to the wall with the kitchen knife was pulled away from the door. Braden grabbed the post digger as readied himself for the next creature.
Instead of a yellow-eyed creature, Paula stuck her head through the crack in the front door.
“Ho-ly shit, Braden,” Paula said as she looked around. “You okay? We were running to the tour bus and saw five of those bastards around this trailer. Are you alone?”
“Man, am I glad to see you, Paula,” Braden said as he smiled. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Looks like you’ve been doing some cooking,” Paula said as she saw the zombie with the pizza wheel lodged in its throat and the box grater next to its shredded face.
“Necessity is the mother of invention,” Braden said as he looked at the dead zombie. “Or something like that.”
“Come on, Chef Boyardee,” Paula said. “We need to get to the tour bus. It is the only safe place left around here.”
*****
Stewart sat behind the wheel of the tour bus. He knew the roar of the engine would attract more zombies, and he counted on that.
