by Brian Keene
All six of them jumped when they heard a thunderous crash behind them. The echoes vibrated through the walls. Plaster and dust rained down on them. Perry’s finger jerked. If he’d had it on the trigger, the gun would have gone off. The crowbar slipped from Leo’s hand and clattered on the floor. Chris dropped his flashlight and it rolled away from him, coming to rest in the rust-colored blood slick.
“What the hell was that?” Jamal shouted.
“I think it was that metal door,” Perry said. “Come on. Let’s get back to the front.”
“But what about them kids?” Leo asked.
“Fuck them kids,” Markus said. “This place is a motherfucking death trap.”
For once, Perry agreed with the belligerent teen. He’d seen enough of the house’s interior to know that it was even more dangerous than he’d suspected. It would be too easy for them to lose their way in here, too easy to be injured in an accident—or worse. He grabbed Dookie’s arm and herded him past the others, then turned around and motioned at them to follow. Chris bent over and retrieved his flashlight, grimacing as he wiped the blood on his shirt. Leo picked up the crowbar.
“Come on,” Perry urged. “Let’s go.”
Before they could move, however, they heard footsteps. It was impossible to tell what direction they were coming from. They seemed to issue from everywhere at once. The walls shook with each thudding step, and the makeshift lighting system overhead swung back and forth.
Perry grabbed Dookie’s arm again and led him back the way they’d come. Leo and Chris followed him. Markus and Jamal hesitated. The footsteps grew louder.
“What are you doing?” Markus asked. “They’re coming from that way!”
“No, they’re not,” Perry argued. “They’re coming from down that hall.”
“The hell they are.”
“Listen.” Perry scowled. “We don’t have time for this. Now, let’s go.”
“I’m telling you,” Markus insisted, “they’re coming from that direction. Y’all heard that big crash. Whoever it was, they shut the fucking door on us. Come on, Chris.”
Perry stepped toward them. “Goddamn it, you get back here. I’m responsible for you!”
“Yo,” Dookie whispered, “do y’all smell that all of the sudden? It’s like something died up in here.”
“You ain’t responsible for shit,” Markus told Perry, turning away from the others and ignoring Dookie’s comment.
Perry started to respond, but he paused. Dookie was right. There was an ammoniacal stench in the air—shit, sulfur, sweat, and worse. Then he noticed that the footsteps had stopped, replaced by the sound of harsh, heavy breathing.
Oblivious to the noise or the stench, Markus and Chris started down the hall. Chris glanced back over his shoulder once. His eyes were haunted and pleading. Then he wrinkled his nose. He turned around, and Perry saw a massive, looming shadow fall over them both. As Perry and the others watched, Chris raised his flashlight. Reflected in the beam was the biggest man Perry had ever seen—if indeed it was a man. He had to be over seven feet tall; his bald, misshapen head brushed against the ceiling as he stood there staring at them. His shoulders and chest were bigger than any professional wrestler Perry had ever watched on television—easily the width of several men. He was almost naked, except for some garbage bags tied together with silver duct tape. His pale skin, while covered with sores and growths, rippled with slabs of thick muscle. Most disturbing was the creature’s genitals, which were obviously swollen and suppurated with some type of infection. Pus dripped from the tip of its penis like water from a leaky spigot.
He’s so big, Perry thought. How could someone so goddamned big just appear out of nowhere like that? I mean, sure, we heard his footsteps, but how did he just pop out of the darkness like this?
Markus leaped back in alarm. Chris had time to stutter in surprise, and then the giant figure raised some sort of crude weapon—a boulder tied onto an iron pipe. The stone was crusted with blood. Without a word, the hulk swung the makeshift club up over his shoulders and down onto the top of Chris’s head. The sound it made was like nothing Perry had ever heard. It sort of reminded him of when he was a kid. He and his friends had dropped a watermelon out the third-story window of an apartment building in North Philly. The sound the melon had made as it splattered across the sidewalk was similar to the sound Chris’s head made as the club smashed through it—but this was wetter. The explosion coated Markus and the walls with blood and brain matter. Bits of Chris’s skull flew across the corridor and were embedded into the wall. The mallet reached his neck and pounded what was left down into his chest. Amazingly, his body remained standing, clutching the flashlight in one jittering hand. The boy’s sphincter and bladder both released, adding to the noxious stench in the passageway.
Perry cried out in horror. Jamal did the same, screaming his friend’s name. Dookie trembled next to Perry, clinging to his arm and babbling nonsensical words. Incredibly, Leo charged forward, shrieking with rage, the crowbar held above his head like a spear. Perry’s senses returned as he saw the boy charge forward. Shoving Dookie behind him, he brought the handgun up and tried to aim. Jamal’s and Dookie’s flashlights were shaking too badly to be of much use, and although Chris’s standing corpse still held his, it was pointed at the floor. Perry did his best to draw a bead despite the bad lighting, but Leo got in his way.
“Leo,” he hollered. “Get the hell out of there!”
If Leo heard him, he didn’t react. Cursing, Perry took a few steps toward them, trying to get a clearer shot. As he did, Markus wiped the blood out of his eyes and stared upward, just as the looming monstrosity swung at him. Markus had enough reflexes to raise the sledgehammer.
The two weapons clashed against each other. The beast grunted in surprise or amusement—Perry couldn’t tell which. Then it shoved Markus off his feet. The boy landed on his back with a jarring thud but managed to hold on to his hammer. The creature stepped over him and faced down Leo.
“Get the hell off him, motherfucker!”
Leo slashed at it with the crowbar. The tool glanced off the hulk’s massive bicep, digging a shallow furrow in the flesh. If the thing felt pain, it gave no indication. It pivoted, swiping at Leo with the hammer, but he danced out of range, narrowly avoiding the bone-crushing strike.
“Goddamn it, Leo,” Perry yelled. “Move aside!”
This time, he did as Perry asked, dropping flat to the floor. The thing in the hallway bellowed laughter and glared at Perry, Dookie, and Jamal, with round black eyes, as if it had just noticed their presence. Grinning, the creature stuck its tongue out at them. The organ looked like a pale, wriggling worm. Its smile grew wider, revealing broken, blackened teeth. Worse was the obscenely large penis dangling between its legs. As they watched, the swollen, infected organ began to dance and bob, spraying more pink and yellow pus. Perry was grateful for the dim lighting. He didn’t think he could take seeing things any more clearly than he already was. The stench wafting from between the man-thing’s legs was nauseating.
The monstrosity laughed again, and Perry pulled the trigger. He hadn’t planned on it, wasn’t even aware that he’d done it until the gun leaped in his hands and the boom filled the room. The brass jacket flew out of the side of the gun and clattered onto the floor. The echo continued, deafening Perry to everything around him. The vibration ran up his forearms. Not waiting to see if he’d hit the giant, he squeezed the trigger again, this time making a conscious effort to aim for the bastard’s chest. His opponent jerked and staggered, but then stood back up as if shrugging it off and raised its hammer high. Blood ran from a dime-sized hole in its chest.
“Jamal? Dookie? You still back there. If so, get those lights on it.”
Perry couldn’t hear whether they responded. His ears were still ringing from the gunshots. But a second later, two jittering flashlight beams crisscrossed the beast. It squinted at the light.
How the hell can it still be standing?
Perry�
�s eyes grew wide as he saw Markus clambering to his feet behind it. The boy hefted the sledgehammer, eyeing his attacker coldly.
“Yo, turn your bad-cheese-smelling ass around, you skinhead motherfucker.”
“Markus, no!” Perry lowered the gun in frustration as the ringing in his ears faded. “I can’t shoot if you’re behind it.”
The giant spun around and swung its hammer again. Markus raised his to meet the attack. Once more, the two weapons smashed into each other with a loud crash. The head broke off Markus’s hammer and crashed to the floor, narrowly missing his foot. Although Markus had deflected the killing blow, the force once again knocked him to the floor. His attacker’s hammer glanced off the wall, shearing and gouging through plaster and studs. Markus dropped his weapon and scrambled backward across the floor. The giant raised a foot and stomped on his chest. Perry heard a sound like twigs snapping, and then realized it was Markus’s ribs. Blood flew from the hapless boy’s mouth. He made a choking, gagging sound. Perry tried once again to get a clear shot at the madman, but Leo darted between them and struck Markus’s foe on the back of the head with the crowbar. Grunting, the hulk slapped him aside with one free hand. Although Perry could see the blood welling up on its bald scalp, the thing seemed unfazed by Leo’s blow.
“The hell with this.” Perry glanced back at Jamal and Dookie. “Get your asses out of here now! Go back the way we came. Get to the door and see if you can escape.”
Without waiting to see if they’d listen to him, Perry turned around and ran down the hallway toward the battle. Leo was crawling to his feet and searching for his crowbar. He seemed dazed. Markus whimpered in terror and agony as the giant grabbed one of his arms and lifted him off the floor. It let go of the hammer, and the heavy weapon crashed to the floor, stirring up dust and sending vibrations through the boards. Then the bruiser grabbed Markus’s other arm and began to pull them in different directions. Markus shrieked. Still pulling, the creature slammed him into the wall again and again. There was a horrible popping and tearing sound, and then Markus sagged in its grip as one of his arms ripped free. The giant flung him to the floor and then turned to face Perry and Leo. It grinned.
Without pausing to aim, Perry shot it in the face, sheering away part of its chin and cheek. Squealing, the attacker swiped at Perry with Markus’s severed arm, splattering him with the teen’s blood. Perry fired again. The bullet tore through the giant’s shoulder. It paused, swaying back and forth on its tree-trunk legs. Then it surged toward them again. Perry realized that he could see its teeth and tongue through the bullet wound.
Why won’t it fall? he thought. Why the hell won’t it die?
He squeezed the trigger again. The gun jumped in his hand, and the shot went high, cleaving the monster’s bald skull. Behind it, Perry heard Markus gasping for breath. He realized that the teen’s struggles must be very loud indeed if he could hear them over the gunshots. Growling through its ruined mouth, the monstrosity charged, still wielding Markus’s arm like a club.
Perry was suddenly aware of Leo standing beside him.
“Aim high,” the boy shouted, and then dropped to his knees. Before Perry could get off another shot, Leo jammed the crowbar forward, impaling their assailant directly in the middle of his grotesque, infected penis. A rush of foul air blasted from the creature’s lungs. It cupped its ruined groin with both hands, dropping its grisly weapon. Blood and pus gushed from between its sausage-like fingers. Its round, black eyes rolled up into the back of its head, and then, uttering a small, quiet whine, it toppled over backward with the crowbar still jutting from between its legs.
“Get back,” Perry told Leo.
Leo turned aside and threw up.
Perry leaned over the giant and emptied his weapon into its head. Again he was reminded of the exploding watermelons. This time, the image satisfied rather than horrified him. He kept squeezing the trigger, even after the pistol was empty. He couldn’t seem to stop himself. From the neck up, the corpse was nothing more than pink and white chunks, but some small part of him still expected it to sit up or grasp at his ankles. His hands and wrists stung. His ears rang. The air was thick with gun smoke. Empty brass casings littered the floor, glinting in the flashlight beams.
“Damn . . .”
Perry wheeled around, and saw Dookie and Jamal still standing there, staring at the scene in shocked disbelief. Leo retched again, his vomit splattering across the floorboards, mixing with Chris and Markus’s blood. Still trembling, Perry walked over to him and gently put his hand on Leo’s shoulder. They stayed like that, not speaking, until Leo was finished.
“Damn,” Dookie repeated, his voice barely a whisper.
“Check on Markus,” Perry said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “See if he’s still breathing.”
Dookie made a choking noise. “Ain’t no way—”
“Just do it! Please?”
Perry squeezed Leo’s shoulder. The teen turned and looked up at him with tears in his eyes and puke on his lips and chin.
“You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah,” Leo whispered. “I just . . . Markus was a dick, but he was my boy, too? You know what I’m saying?”
“I do.”
“And Chris . . . damn, I’ve known Chris since we was in diapers. He can’t be dead. He just can’t.”
Perry turned back to the bodies. Dookie was kneeling next to Markus, staring into his face. Markus stared back at him, unblinking, unmoving.
“Is he dead?” Perry asked.
Dookie nodded.
“What the hell was that thing?” Jamal sobbed. “I mean, what the fuck?”
Nobody answered him.
Perry helped Leo to his feet and then addressed them all.
“Somebody must have heard the gunshots. The cops may not have shown up before, but they’ll have no choice now. I say we go back to the exit, find our way outside again, and wait for them to arrive.”
“What about Markus and Chris?” Leo asked. “We just gonna let them lie here?”
“There’s nothing we can do for them now. This is a crime scene. Best thing for all concerned is to just leave it alone until help arrives.”
Jamal pointed at the mutant’s corpse. “You’re worried the po-po are gonna arrest you for capping him, aren’t you?”
“No,” Perry said. “I’m not. It was self defense. Any fool can see that Chris and Markus were killed by that fucking freak. What I’m worried about is the rest of you. Now let’s go.”
He ushered them back down the hall. Leo stopped, turned and cast a longing, mournful glance back at his friends. Perry grabbed his arm and urged him to follow.
“Ain’t nothing you can do for them now.”
“It’s my fault,” Leo said. “I was the one who insisted we come in here. We should have never gotten involved. Should have minded our own damn business.”
“It’s not your fault,” Perry said. “It’s nobody’s fault, except maybe that big naked fucker’s. Things just happen sometimes. There’s not always a reason or explanation, no matter how bad we want there to be. Now, come on.”
Leo silently pulled the crowbar out of the giant’s back. It came free with a wet squelch.
Perry led them back down the twisting hallway. They’d only gone a few dozen yards when they heard the patter of feet running toward them.
“Get behind me,” Perry said, leaping in front of the teens. “Be ready to run.”
A tall, misshapen form erupted from the shadows and charged down the passageway. Dookie raised his flashlight, shining it directly into the creature’s face. The thing squealed but didn’t slow. Perry stared at the lanky creature as it approached. It was some kind of horribly deformed human. One of its eyes was covered with thick, scabrous scar tissue. Its teeth were sharp and pointed. Its tongue had recently been severed. The raw, red stump flicking around inside its open mouth still leaked blood.
“Fuck me,” Perry groaned.
He raised the handgun and pulled the trigger, remember
ing too late that he was out of bullets.
“Shit!”
Leo stepped in front of him and struck the mutant with the crowbar. Its nose and teeth crunched under the force of the blow. The thing tumbled to the floor, shrieking. Leo swung again. Then a third time. The monster flung its misshapen hands into the air in a feeble attempt to ward off the blows. The crowbar crashed down again and again.
“Die,” Leo shouted. “Die, you motherfucker. Die, die, die, die . . .”
He chanted it over and over. Even after the thing’s head had burst open. Even after the tip of the crowbar had punched a dozen holes in its body. Even after it lay still. Perry reached out and seized his wrist. Blood dripped from the weapon. Leo glanced at him, eyes blazing. Perry shook his head.
“It’s dead now. You can stop.”
“Can I?” Leo’s voice was barely a whisper. “Can I really, Mr. Watkins? Because I gotta be honest with you. Right now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop again.”
nineteen
They didn’t stop coming. Heather thought for sure that they’d give up, but even with the distance she’d put between them, the nightmares kept chasing after her. Their bizarre, unsettling cries echoed in the darkness.
She felt around the room, trying to remember where the exit had been. She wished now that she hadn’t tossed her lantern at the horde. She was pretty sure the room was still unoccupied. She didn’t hear any breathing, and there was no sour, telltale stench indicating one of the creatures was hiding there. But it wouldn’t be empty for long. She tiptoed forward, trying to remain as quiet as possible, but the discarded papers and photographs rustled beneath her feet. She bumped into the table with her hip, wincing at both the pain and the sudden sound.
Biting her lip, Heather desperately considered her options. Where could she go from here? There were monsters in front of her and monsters behind her, and there seemed little chance that the police or anybody else were going to come down into the tunnels and rescue her or her friends. For a moment, she considered just hunkering down where she was. Just hiding in the darkness and waiting for the inevitable.
