by Brian Keene
Her legs shook with exhaustion. The scratches and cuts on her body ached. She felt feverish, and her mouth was parched. Miserable and numb, Kerri shuffled onward. Her heart seemed to echo in her chest as if she’d been hollowed out. And in a way, maybe she had been.
She’d seen her boyfriend and her friends slaughtered tonight, and in return, she’d killed and survived. There was no way she’d ever be able to return to the life she’d had before the concert. That life was dead. That old Kerri was dead, lying on the floor alongside Tyler and Steph with her brains bashed out.
She would survive, yes, but could she live with her survival? That was the question Kerri considered as she moved along cautiously, listening for sounds of pursuit or any possible hint that her friends were still alive. Instead, the caves were unsettlingly quiet.
Kerri emerged from a tunnel and after a moment, she recognized the landscape. She was back in the cavern that connected to the basement. She breathed a sigh of relief. It looked and sounded deserted. The rest of the killers must be searching for her deeper in the catacombs. All she had to do now was make it upstairs and then find a way outside. And if she couldn’t do that—
—well, if she couldn’t do that, she’d return to the room on the first floor where she and Javier had originally hidden. That was a safe place. The freaks hadn’t found them there. She’d go back to that room, curl up in the darkness, and just go to sleep for a little while. When she woke up again, things would be better. She’d be able to think clearer.
Smiling at the prospect, Kerri began softly humming the beat of a song from the concert they’d seen earlier in the evening. She crossed the cavern, not bothering to be furtive or cautious. Nothing could touch her now. She had a hiding place in mind, and she’d be okay.
It wasn’t until her humming turned into quiet giggles, that Kerri realized what she was doing. Stifling herself, she shook her head, trying to clear it. A new wave of terror washed over her. Was she crazy? Had she snapped? Or was this just some kind of delayed shock—a bizarre reaction to the pressure of the situation? Kerri became aware that she was trembling and that her arms were wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing tightly. She’d twirled her hair with her fingers and then chewed on it, the way she’d done when she was a little girl. She forced herself to stop it and tried to shake the dread threatening to overwhelm her.
I’m losing it, she thought. I’m really losing it. Got to get a grip on myself, or I might as well just give up now and lie down right here.
She straightened up and started walking again. Her hand trailed over the wall, partly for guidance and partly for comfort. A prayer came to mind, and she opened her mouth to recite it. Then she crushed it instead, before it could form. If the Lord existed, then He had a lot to answer for, as far as Kerri was concerned. She would never forgive the people—things—who had killed her friends, and she would not allow herself to forgive God either. Just because He’d written the rules, that didn’t mean He got to break them. Some sins were inexcusable. What He’d allowed to happen to them tonight was at the top of the list.
Kerri reached the cellar without incident, emerging into it from a large crack in the wall. Red clay squished between her fingers as she entered the dank room. She wiped her hands on her pants, glancing down as she did so. When she looked up again, there was a figure standing in front of her.
Kerri screamed, and the figure rushed toward her and clamped its hand over her mouth. Its palm was coated with dirt and dried blood, as was the rest of its body. It wore clothing, but the garments were almost invisible beneath the grime and gore. So were its facial features. She didn’t recognize Javier until he spoke, and even then she wasn’t sure.
“K-Kerri?”
His voice was strained and hoarse. Kerri struggled against him, and he pressed his hand tighter against her mouth.
“Sssshhhh. Kerri, don’t! It’s me. It’s me, Kerri. Javier.”
She stopped resisting and let her body go slack. Javier slowly removed his hand from her mouth, and Kerri stared at him, gasping. She took one faltering step backward.
“It’s me,” he whispered again, holding up his hands in reassurance. “Are you okay?”
“Oh my God . . . Javier?”
“Yeah, it’s me. It’s really me.”
“Holy shit. I can’t believe . . .”
She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him, ignoring the blood and filth. She squeezed him tightly, and Javier returned the gesture. Neither of them broke the embrace.
“Are you okay?” he asked again.
Kerri nodded against his chest. “Yeah. Cuts and scratches, mostly. I almost got . . .” She tried to say raped, but the word got stuck in her throat. “I’m okay. What about you? All that blood!”
“Most of it isn’t mine.”
“But your wrists. Jesus Christ, that looks really bad, Javier.”
“They’re fine. I’m fine. They’ve clotted now. Soon as we get out of here, I’ll go to the hospital and get some disinfectant and a few stitches and be good to go.”
Kerri’s spirits soared, and her head cleared. “Did you find a way out?”
“Yeah. I was looking for you guys in areas that I hadn’t been to yet, but then I got the idea to come back up here, thinking that maybe one of you had circled back around or hid here all along. But, yeah, I found a way out. There’s a sewer tunnel. These things living down here hacked their way into it. It’s got a little river running through it. We can follow the water, after we find Heather and Brett.”
“Is it far?”
“Bit of a hike, but I remember the way. Have you seen the others?”
“Well . . . Brett’s dead.”
“Oh, shit. Are you sure?”
Kerri nodded, wiping her eyes. “Pretty sure. That thing, Noigel—the one who killed Steph and Tyler—had Brett when we all ran away. He smashed Brett against the wall right below the basement stairs. Brett stopped screaming after that.”
“Goddamn it.”
“Yeah. I should have . . . I should have helped him, but I couldn’t.”
“It’s okay.” Javier smoothed her hair. “What about Heather? She’s got to be okay. Have you seen her?”
“No. Not since we all got split up.”
“She’s right here,” said a voice in the darkness.
Startled, Kerri and Javier broke their embrace and glanced frantically into the gloom. The voice was distinct. Rough and gravely.
“Scug,” Javier said. “You sick fuck.”
Chuckling, Scug stepped out of the shadows, carrying Heather’s decapitated head in one hand. Her glazed eyes stared sightlessly. Her mouth was open, as if begging for help. One of her cheeks had been torn so that it hung down in a flap of loose skin. Her cheeks were the color of bruised fruit. Strands of tissue dangled down from her mangled neck.
Javier closed his eyes and sighed. Kerri’s hands went to her face. Her fingernails dug into her cheeks as she stared at her friend’s head in horror.
“So you two recognize her then?” Scug asked. “Good. That’s real good. Had a hell of a time getting her head back from the rest of the garbage. They wanted her for themselves, you know? But that’s how the trash are. Greedy little bastards. That’s why we keep them down there. By the time I got to her, this was all that was left. Damn shame, really. I was going to use the rest of her, too. Ain’t got any use for just her head, except to maybe put it on the end of my pecker and dance around a little. Maybe fuck the neck hole. What do you say there, lover boy? Want to give her one last go?”
“Fuck you.” Javier’s voice was thick with grief, barely a whisper.
Scug laughed. “Not so tough without your little belt, huh? You’ve caused us a lot of trouble tonight. Don’t know how you got away. You were supposed to be skinned and gutted by now.”
“Shit happens.” Javier stepped between Kerri and Scug, putting Kerri behind him. “That’s always sort of been my philosophy. You and your sick friends really put it to the fucking test tonight, thoug
h. Anyway, yeah, I escaped. Sorry to disappoint you. I killed your two nasty-ass girlfriends, though, before I got away. They died slow.”
Scug shrugged. “Plenty more where they come from. I may even have a turn with the little miss standing there behind you.”
“Not tonight, you won’t. You’ll have to go through me.”
“I’m gonna go through you anyway, boy. Gonna slit your belly open and pull out your guts and show them to you. Then I’m gonna squeeze the shit out of them and smear it all over you before you die.”
“Kerri.” Javier kept his voice calm and level. “Run for the stairs. Don’t stop.”
“But you said the river—”
“You’ll never find it yourself. Now get going. I’ve got him.”
“Javier, you can’t!”
“Do you see what he has in his hand?” Javier exploded. “Go, goddamn it!”
Kerri turned and ran. When she glanced back, Scug and Javier were still facing one another. She dashed on, and when she turned around again, both men had been lost in the darkness. She looked for the stairs and found them. Panicked, she didn’t see Brett’s corpse until she tripped over it. Kerri went sprawling across the stone floor, scraping the skin on her knees and elbows. Crying, she glanced over at what was left of her friend. His skull had been cracked in half and it looked like something big and round had drilled into what was left of his brains.
Both of his eyeballs were missing, and the bloody sockets had been split and widened, as if whatever had been stuck in his brain had been inserted into them, as well. Retching and sobbing, Kerri stumbled to her feet and fled for the stairs. When she opened her mouth to breathe, a scream slipped out. It echoed through the chamber long after she was gone.
“She won’t get far,” Scug said.
“We’ll see about that. She might surprise you.”
“Doubt it. Noigel’s upstairs, dealing with some more guests. He likes the ladies, Noigel does. Of course, he likes the boys, too. Hell, he likes anything he can stick his pecker in, long as it’s dead first.”
“You’re a twisted bag of shit, aren’t you?” Javier shook his head in disgust.
“Here,” Scug said. “Have a go.”
He tossed Heather’s head at Javier. He flinched as it slammed into his chest, recoiling in horror and disbelief. The head thumped onto the floor and rolled away, leaving a wet stain. A part of him was disgusted, and he immediately felt ashamed for that reaction. How many times had they made love in his car or at her parents’ house or at his house when his mother wasn’t home? Or that one time backstage after the school play? She’d been so warm. Smelled so good. Felt so soft. Now the girl he loved had been reduced to this. Turning away from her, Javier glared at Scug. His hands curled into fists. His lips felt swollen and his ears and cheeks burned.
“Good,” Scug teased. “That’s good. Get all mad now. Think you can take me?”
“It’s just you and me, you sick fuck. Your little mutants aren’t here to help you.”
Scug wagged his index finger in the air and then whistled. The darkness came alive with rustling shadows. One by one, more of the freaks stumbled, slithered, and loped into sight, slowly surrounding Javier. Some carried flashlights and lanterns. Several more had weapons—everything from crude stone clubs to expensive cutlery. They circled him, snarling like a pack of dogs.
Scug grinned. “What’s that you were saying?”
“Pussy.” Javier tried to sound unafraid. “You scared to fight your own battles?”
“If I was going to eat you by myself, then yeah, you’d be my kill. But I think the rest of my family would like a piece of you. And besides, I don’t want to mess up my clothes.”
Smiling, Scug ran his hands over the tanned human hide he was wearing, as if smoothing out the wrinkles.
Adopting a ready stance, Javier studied his opponents. These were not the same as the others he’d seen. He could tell that immediately. They were malformed, yes, but they seemed more symmetrical, more balanced. More normal. One edged closer to him. It was sleek and muscular, with a broad jaw line and a wide mouth filled with teeth. The eyes were spaced too far apart and had no whites at all, but only the massive dark pupils.
“Sic him, boy,” Scug said. “And some of the rest of you get upstairs and help Noigel. Tell him I want her skin, so he’s not to fuck it up. It’s been a long night, and I’m getting tired.”
The thing with the dark eyes closed the gap. It did not growl as it came toward him. It roared, the sound of its voice blasting around the cellar as it charged. The rest of the creatures shouted in response.
Javier acted purely on instinct, and that simple reflex saved his life. He dropped back as the mutant attacked, and kicked the slavering thing in the stomach. It slammed into the wall and then shook off the blow, prepared to attack again. Before Javier could react, a second cannibal came for him. Sharp teeth ripped into his thigh, slicing through the heavy denim of his jeans and into the skin and muscle beneath with appalling ease. Javier jabbed his elbow down and struck the back of the monster’s head. It was like striking stone. His elbow thrummed from the impact.
A third creature attacked, even as the second gnawed his leg like a dog with a rawhide bone. Javier threw up his arm to block it, but thick fingernails cut into his forearm. The strike happened so fast that for a moment he thought it had missed. Then the deep gashes started to bleed. The pain followed a second later—hot and nauseating.
Javier dislodged the thing gnawing on his leg, bringing more agony as he did so. He backed up to give himself room and immediately realized his mistake. In stepping away from his attackers, he’d moved closer to the rest of the things.
They seized him as one. Powerful teeth clamped down on Javier’s shoulder. Claws lashed across his face, running lines of fire over his lips and nose, flaying his mouth open, cutting into his gums and fragmenting his teeth in one savage stroke. He managed to reach out with his fingers and return the favor, slashing across the deep set eyes of the beast. Javier bared his ruined teeth in a grimace as the fangs in his shoulder dug deeper, pressing together deep inside the meat of his arm and drawing a thick spray of blood. More teeth sank into his thigh, his waist, and his breast. Something cold and jagged and sharp pierced his buttocks. He tried to scream, but there was something wrong with his throat. Blood spilled into Javier’s eyes, blinding him. He shook his head from side to side in an effort to see.
His vision cleared in time to see a creature with a wide, hinged mouth lunge forward. He’d never seen so many teeth in a mouth before—multiple rows, all jagged and sharp. The thing snapped its massive jaws shut around his face. Javier jittered and thrashed as the mutant broke bones and pulped his jaw and forehead, carving a massive trench down the front of his skull.
He had time to think one last thought before he died.
Wait for me, Heather. I’m coming. I’m—
twenty-three
Leo and Perry reached the foyer and huddled together in front of the metal door, waiting for Dookie to return with help or for more of the house’s weird inhabitants to show up. Leo prayed for the former but was dreadfully certain it would be the latter. So when a door suddenly opened and a female figure stumbled out of the darkness, he leaped to his feet, ready to fight. Mr. Watkins sprang up beside him a second later, an unlit cigarette tumbling from his open mouth. Both men yelled in surprise and fright.
So did the girl.
They stared at each other. Leo frowned and blinked, trying to understand what he was seeing. She was dressed like one of the kids that had run away from him earlier in the evening, but she couldn’t be one of them. The girls in that group had all been white. This girl was red. Scarlet. She was covered in blood from head to toe. It matted her hair and crusted on her cheeks and stained her clothes, and although he could see some superficial wounds on her arms and face, Leo was fairly certain that most of the blood wasn’t hers. Leo shook his head slowly, and reached out a hand.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
The terrified girl jumped at the sound of his voice and shrank away from them, cowering against the wall. She whimpered, but did not speak.
“It’s okay,” Leo murmured. “We ain’t gonna hurt you. We’re stuck in here, just like you are.”
“Are you hurt?” Mr. Watkins asked her.
She stared at them, wide-eyed, but still refused to speak. Her chin trembled.
“Where are your friends?” Leo asked. “Them kids who ran in here with you? Are they okay? Do they need help?”
The girl flinched as if slapped. Then she opened her mouth and moaned. It was the most heartbreaking sound Leo had ever heard.
“Sssshhh,” he whispered. “Don’t do that, now. You’ll lead them right to us. We need to be quiet and shit.”
“Help is on the way,” Mr. Watkins explained. “Somebody went for help. They should be here any minute.”
As if in verification, they heard muffled voices from the other side of the door. It sounded like there was quite a large crowd outside. A moment later, Dookie yelled to them.
“Yo! Leo? Mr. Watkins? You alright?”
“Yeah,” Leo called as loudly as he dared. “We’re fine. Just get us the fuck out of here, dog. And hurry!”
“I got everybody out here. Angel and the crew and Mrs. Watkins and—”
“Dookie,” Mr. Watkins yelled, “I don’t care if you got all of Blackwater out there, along with a Navy SEAL team. Just get us the hell out of here. Now!”
“Get back from the door,” Dookie shouted. “Angel’s got a blowtorch!”
The men backed away. The girl hesitated, her eyes darting from them to the door and then back to them again. After a moment, she stepped toward them.
