by Jacob Rayne
Duggan appeared in the doorway, a smile on his face. ‘Come here, Mark,’ he said, beckoning him forward.
‘What is it?’
‘Take the key and get the room open. I’ll carry Jake over.’
‘Right.’
‘It’s room 17. Across the lot there.’
Mark nodded and crossed the lot to the row of rooms on the other side.
The room smelled stale and reminded him of the first motel him and Duggan had stayed in, where the guard had broken in and riddled the bed full of bullets.
It seemed like a lifetime ago.
He was shaken from his thoughts by Duggan’s grumbling as he carried Jake into the room.
‘Back’s stiff off the bike,’ he explained, putting Jake down on one of the two beds. ‘He’s out for the count, ain’t he?’
Mark nodded. ‘I know how he feels.’
‘Me too. I’m beat. Let’s get some food and some shut eye.’
‘Good plan.’
They locked Jake in the room and crossed the lot to the diner on the other side of the complex.
They drank beers while they waited for the food to arrive.
‘You go left, it’s quicker,’ Joyce said. ‘The car’s a black convertible. You can’t miss it. I’ll lead them away and loop round.’
‘Right.’
Joyce moved off and fired the gun at the nearest mutant.
May as well try to take some of them out while I have chance.
Sadie ran to the left while the mutants focussed on Joyce. As she moved she marvelled at the destruction the freaks had caused in such a short space of time.
Joyce waited until Sadie had gone then fired another round, putting a hole in the throat of one of the blank-faced women.
She didn’t seem to care, just kept ambling forwards with the same vacant expression.
Joyce’s nerve broke and she ran to the right.
The mutants moved after her, terrifying her with their speed.
Hammett and Abbott looked around the shelter. It was just a cube, maybe 10m in each direction, carved into the concrete.
‘Was designed as a fallout shelter,’ Jeffries said, full of pride. ‘Lead-lined walls, almost a metre thick. Ceiling and floor are a couple of metres thick, reinforced with titanium weave. It’ll be a good while before anything gets in here.’
They looked at the metal shelving units against the side walls of the room, laden with bottles of water, tinned food and sachets of dehydrated food.
‘Enough food here for a coupla years,’ Abbott said. ‘Making me hungry just the thought of it.’
‘You’re never hungry,’ Hammett laughed, thinking of the huge meal they’d consumed mere hours before.
‘Yup. I know. Got me a tapeworm, my old man used to say.’
Hammett and Jeffries laughed.
‘You got no business laughing, sonny,’ Abbott said, glaring at Jeffries. ‘You’ve got us in one hell of a fine mess here.’
‘Speaking of,’ Hammett said. ‘Are you going to call your buddies and let them know you’re alright?’
‘I’ll leave it awhile,’ Jeffries said.
‘You may not last a while,’ Hammett said, pointing at the ragged, bleeding wound in the businessman’s arm.
‘I’m fine. One of you gents mind tending to it? There are a number of first aid kits in here.’
‘Tend to yourself, asshole,’ Abbott snarled.
‘Yeah, you’re on your own, unless you call your buddies right now,’ Hammett said.
‘And tell ’em to destroy those facilities,’ Abbott added.
‘No, I’m not going to ruin years of hard work. I’ll call them later to let them know I’m alright.’
‘Suit yourself,’ Hammett shrugged.
‘Best get comfy,’ Jeffries said. ‘Looks like we’ll be in here for a while yet.’
Sadie reached the next block and saw the car roughly halfway down the street.
There were a couple of mutants, but they seemed busy trying to climb into the windows of a house, being kept at bay by a panic-stricken woman with a broom shank.
Sadie felt the woman’s terror as their eyes met for a second.
But she forced herself to look away.
Her mission to spread the word about the repulsive parasites was paramount.
Joyce had considerately left the car unlocked for her.
She looked around the street, hoping to spot Joyce running for the car.
She couldn’t wait to get out of here, the scenes were making her sick to her stomach.
Duggan and Mark staggered back across the parking lot to their room.
The effects of Duggan’s double whiskey night cap had struck like lightning.
Duggan bellowed laughter – the whiskey having an extra kick due to his tired mind – and fumbled in his pocket for the key.
He dropped it on the floor, still snorting laughter.
Mark smiled too. He had a good beer buzz going on.
‘We can both sleep tonight, son,’ Duggan said. ‘I reckon we’re far enough from trouble to risk it.’
‘Thank fuck for that.’
Duggan bellowed laughter again and put the key in the lock. He struggled to unlock the door.
‘Maybe it’s unlocked,’ Mark said.
‘I definitely locked it,’ Duggan said.
‘I know but maybe the maid has been to clean the room.’
‘Could be.’
Duggan turned the handle. ‘Hey, it was unlocked.’
He saw dim outlines in the darkness.
One of them resembled a maid’s cleaning trolley.
The light switch by the door didn’t work.
‘Hello?’ Duggan called out. ‘Are you cleaning the room? We can come back later if you’re busy.’
There was no reply, just the chirping of crickets from outside.
Duggan looked at Mark. ‘I don’t like this,’ he whispered, furrowing his brow. He reached under his jacket and pulled out the shotgun. ‘You cover me.’
Suddenly Duggan regretted having the booze as his senses felt dulled, like they’d been wrapped in cotton wool.
‘Hello? Maid? Are you in here?’ he called out, his voice cracking a little.
He moved into the room, feeling that no good was going to come of this.
He noticed that Jake was no longer on the bed and hoped no one had got to the kid while they were out.
A sliver of light outlined the bathroom door.
The extractor fan was busy, masking any other sounds from the bathroom.
‘Jake, you in there?’ he called out.
There was no reply, just the dim sound of the fan from behind the door.
Duggan pulled the handle and turned it. The bathroom door was locked.
‘Jake? You in there?’ he brayed the door with his knuckles.
There was still no reply.
Duggan took a deep breath, levelled the shotgun at the door and slammed his boot into the space next to the handle.
The door splintered away from the frame and swung open.
He stared in disbelief as he saw Jake slumped over the bleeding body of the maid, blood all over his smiling face.
There were splashes of gore up the walls and a large puddle of it on the floor beneath the maid.
‘Shit,’ Duggan shouted as the realisation of what was happening sunk in.
‘What is it?’ Mark asked from the doorway to the room.
‘He’s one of them. One of those moth things must have got into him.’
Jake carried on eating the skin off the maid’s face, smacking his lips and licking the blood off his fingers.
He didn’t seem bothered by Duggan’s presence.
Duggan broke from his trance and fired at the back of Jake’s head.
The boy fell forwards, his bloody mouth smearing red across the tiles as his head landed on the floor with concussive force.
Duggan noticed that the maid was still moving, despite the gushing wounds in her face and neck a
nd chest. Her mouth was moving but no sounds came out.
As he looked closer he noticed her tongue was gone. Ripped out and eaten no doubt.
Her eyes showed how much pain she’d endured.
Duggan put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger. It was kinder than leaving her to bleed out.
He reloaded in case Jake attacked again, but the boy seemed stunned by the shotgun blast.
Thinking fast, Duggan spotted an electric shaver left by the room’s previous occupant. He pulled on the maid’s rubber gloves for insulation then used his knife to cut the wires and bare the strands. Mark helped him pick Jake up and put him face down in the sink.
‘Stand back,’ Duggan told Mark.
He inhaled deeply and looked down to Jake. ‘Sorry, kid, but I gotta do this,’ he said, plugging in the bare wires and sticking them to the base of Jake’s head.
Jake twitched wildly but Duggan had a good hold on him.
Duggan smelled burning hair and flesh and kept the wires jammed into the back of the boy’s head.
The lump beneath the skin on the back of his head began to writhe like it was trying to tear its way out of its organic tomb.
It took a good minute before the creature stopped moving, by which time Jake’s face and neck were black and charred and smoking.
Duggan coughed and let the boy slump to the floor.
Mark watched, wide-eyed, from the bathroom doorway.
‘Is he?’
‘Yeah, I reckon so. The thing stopped moving, anyway. It hasn’t moved again yet.’
Mark retched at the scene before him.
Duggan snorted out, to avoid the stench of burning flesh going up his nostrils.
He tore off two large pieces of toilet roll, bundled them up, and stuffed them up his nostrils then threw the toilet roll to Mark so he could do the same.
‘We should get out of here,’ Mark said. ‘Before the cops come.’
Duggan held up a hand to silence him. ‘No, I want to see what’s happened here first,’ he said, pointing to the back of Jake’s head.
He pulled his knife and nudged Jake’s body with his foot.
He didn’t move.
Nor did the creature under his scalp.
Duggan knelt on Jake’s spine, pinning him to the floor in case he was still alive.
‘Here we go,’ he muttered, putting the knife to the base of Jake’s skull and making the first incision.
Where the hell had Joyce gotten to?
Sadie had been sat in the car for five minutes now.
The woman with the broom was still battling with the horde outside her window. A few more of the mutants were shuffling up the street towards the house.
As long as I keep quiet they’ll leave me alone, she thought.
A second, more selfish thought crossed her mind too.
I could just leave her here.
I’m the one who’s got the story.
I’ve got the photos and the video.
It’s my story anyway.
I could have all the glory to myself.
Sadie scolded herself for her selfishness, but she couldn’t deny the truth of the statements.
She sat, trying to decide whether to wait for Joyce or not.
The cut opened when Duggan pulled at it.
The first half inch of flesh was blackened, whereas beneath was pink and bloody. It reminded Duggan of a steak in the hands of an amateur barbecuer.
He pulled harder, exposing the creature. It was much larger than the ones they’d seen in the abandoned housing block, although it had the same obscenely beautiful colouring.
‘You seeing this?’ Duggan asked.
Mark nodded, the colour draining out of his young face.
Duggan nudged the creature with the blunt edge of the knife.
It didn’t react, but he still didn’t want to believe it was dead.
It felt slimy and cold, like raw chicken breasts fresh from the fridge.
Feeling his gorge rise, he withdrew from it.
The creature’s body was almost six inches long, almost an inch thick. The wings went all the way round to the skull above the ears and were anchored to the skull with spikes.
He put the knife into the join between body and wing and drew it down.
The skin was tough to cut but yielded when he applied more pressure.
He pulled hard, snapping the wing away from the body, then used the tip of the knife to move the body away from the base of Jake’s skull.
He saw fangs, long, thin and sharp, in a circular formation around its mouth. It looked like something from under the sea.
There was a tapered body attached to the head, from which six curved, lethally sharp claws protruded. The claws were slick with blood.
There was a circle of tiny holes at the base of his skull.
‘The teeth must have gone in here,’ he said, pointing it out to Mark.
Further down, at the top of the spinal column, were six larger holes where the legs had gone in and gripped the spine.
This made Duggan cringe.
‘What the hell is going on here?’ a voice from behind them said.
Duggan turned, still holding the knife. He saw a cop aiming a shotgun at Mark’s belly.
‘Put the knife down, mister,’ the cop said.
Mark’s position blocked the cop’s view of the bathroom, but as soon as he moved they were in serious shit.
Duggan dropped the knife and put his hands above his head.
‘Both of you come out of there,’ the cop said, moving back but keeping the gun facing them.
Mark looked to Duggan for advice.
Duggan shrugged.
‘Now before you see what’s going on in here, I think I should explain,’ Duggan said.
The cop slammed the butt of the gun into Mark’s stomach, making him fall to his knees, wheezing for breath.
‘I think you should keep quiet, sonny, or else you’ll get what the boy’s just had.’
Duggan shrugged again and moved out of the bathroom.
The cop’s hands shook and sweat had begun to form on his brow.
The scene in the bathroom will do nothing for his nerves, Duggan thought with a smile.
‘To save you the trouble,’ Duggan said. ‘The boy’s got a gun in a holster on his left hip. I’ve got one on my left hip too, and another one in my right boot. There’s also another knife on my left under my armpit.’
The cop frowned.
‘You want me to take ’em out for you?’ Duggan asked.
‘The boy first. Slowly.’
Mark moved slowly and pulled the gun out from his left hip. He ejected the magazine and dropped the gun on the floor.
‘Put the cuffs on him,’ the cop said, handing Duggan the cuffs.
Duggan did so.
‘On the bed, kid, face-down,’ the cop said.
Mark hesitated, still wheezing for breath.
‘Do it, Mark,’ Duggan said.
Mark laid down on the bed.
‘Good lad,’ Duggan said.
‘Now you,’ the cop said. ‘All your weapons on the floor, one at a time.’
Duggan reached for his knife first, moving slowly. He was used to this procedure as it had happened a number of times when he was in his biker gang. He pulled out the other two weapons and dropped them on the floor too.
‘Hands behind your back.’
Duggan did so and let the cop cuff him.
‘Face down on the other bed.’
Duggan obeyed, facing the bathroom so he could see the cop’s face when he saw the spectacle inside.
He smiled when he heard the splatter of vomit hitting the toilet water.
The cop stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes, taking it all in, then emerged, looking paler than anyone Duggan had ever seen.
Duggan suppressed a chuckle, knowing that would make things worse than they already were.
‘This is some sick fucking shit,’ the cop said, gulping down the vomit which had s
tarted to creep up his throat.
‘We’ve got a double homicide. Torture with an electrical appliance and cannibalism. Jesus and his apostles you’re going away for a long time for this one.’
‘Have you taken in the scene carefully, officer?’ Duggan said.
‘Of course I have. I’ve seen that we’ve got a minor and a female cruelly slaughtered for no other reason than to amuse you two sick fucks.’
‘Did you happen to look at the back of the kid’s head?’
‘Yes. Gunshot wound and burning, no doubt from the crude device shoved into the shaving socket.’
Duggan nodded slowly, like he was dealing with a child.
‘Anything else?’
The cop furrowed his brow, trying to remember.
‘Such as a strange life form clamped to the boy’s head, maybe?’ Duggan scoffed.
The cop looked puzzled then went back into the bathroom.
Duggan and Mark shared a glance and a smile when they heard him cry out in alarm.
‘What the hell’s that?’
‘That, Officer, is the reason those two are dead. Sit down, this will take some explaining.’
Sadie decided to wait after all.
Joyce had saved her ass back at the hotel. And what the hell, people needed to band together in times like these.
They’d share the glory, not that there’d be much of a world left once those things had finished with it.
Joyce appeared from an alley to the left of the car, sprinting for all she was worth.
A mob of mutants were mere feet behind her.
Sadie moved the car forward to meet her.
Joyce dived in and Sadie pulled away.
The mutants beat at the car, putting bloody handprints on the windows and doors.
‘Thanks for waiting. I wasn’t sure if you would or not.’
Me neither, Sadie thought.
‘Let’s get this story out there,’ Joyce said. ‘Save some lives.’
They headed for Sadie’s station as it was nearest.
Duggan could tell that the policeman didn’t really believe or understand what he’d been told, but there was no denying the reality of the parasite on the back of Jake’s skull.
‘It might even be on the news by now,’ Duggan said. ‘I told that woman from Channel Six. She’s a right snooper, so she’s probably got the goods by now.’
