Josh noticed some blood on Wanda’s towel. The dark red smear stood out on the fine white terrycloth. He pointed.
“Is that blood?”
Lance saw the stain and laughed.
“She probably started bleeding, that’s why she tore out of here.” Sitting in his lawn chair he resolved that Wanda might not have brought any feminine products with her.
“I swear that girl has two periods a month.” Lance laughed.
Josh timidly kicked a corner of the towel over so that the cloth covered the blood. From behind the tent the corpse of a small boy emerged. Josh turned into the boy’s path and collided with him. The little demon grabbed Josh’s right arm, biting down hard. He screamed.
“What the fuck?” Josh yelled pushing the boy away.
Lance sprung to his feet. He saw the blood covered boy with the tattered chest launch again at Josh. The man ran around the truck and the boy followed growling. Around they came towards Lance who lifted his hand high in the air and slapped the boy hard across the face. The child fell on the ground with a solid thud. Josh continued running until he was back on the other side of the truck. Lance looked in disappointment at Josh.
“He bit me boss,” Josh said holding his arm.
“You pussy; running from a little kid,” Lance said shaking his head as he leisurely strode towards Josh. Once closer to his employee he could see that he had indeed been bitten. Lance looked at the man’s arm and could see teeth marks under flowing blood.
A man clad only in yellow bikini shorts that he really shouldn’t have been wearing, walked down the beach in front of Lance’s camp. The boy righted himself on the other side of the truck, took notice of the man and charged. Lance watched amused as the man in the yellow speedos began to run away from the snarling boy.
“What the hell is that all about?” wondered Lance while disregarding Josh. He walked behind his tent to get a better look.
The man in yellow was still ahead of the boy. Lance walked out farther through the campground to follow what was happening. Another man presumably heading out for a swim crossed the running man’s path. They crashed into each other and tumbled to the ground. The boy jumped on the men. It looked to Lance that the kid was trying to bite the men. The scene reminded him of an orgy porno video that Wanda had bought to spice things up in the bedroom. He shook his head at the scene unconcerned. A kid with rabies, he thought, sucks to be him.
A tormented scream from his left snapped Lance out of his amusement. He turned to see a man dressed in fishing gear on his knees attacking a tanning woman. Another girl, who must have been lying next to the poor woman, was throwing her weak fists at the fisherman. The victim rolled over and lifted her hands in defense, slapping at the beast. The young girl rose and ran to Lance. He started to move closer out of some unbelievable curiosity. The girl held onto Lance and moved behind him.
“Help my Mom,” she begged. The struggling woman, bloody and scraped in several places, pushed the man off of her and crawled underneath a Jeep for protection. The creature swiped at her calf with a bloody claw.
“Do something!” the girl screamed. The fisherman, attracted by the girl’s pleas, craned its stiff neck towards Lance. It rose to its feet. Lance couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The man was still chewing bits of the woman. The girl cried hysterically, holding on to Lance’s arm. The creature began to advance when Lance whirled, grabbed the girl and threw her in front of the creature. Lance turned and ran away to the tune of the girl’s cries.
Lance passed Josh who was still holding his arm up as if to display it for review. He jumped into his truck and started the engine. Josh opened the passenger’s side and almost fell out of the truck when Lance pulled away. As Lance carelessly drove through the campground he was cut off by a Mercury sedan that slammed into the camp gate at high speed. Behind the Mercury, a Honda Civic swerved and spun out, smashing into the Mercury’s rear end. A chain reaction of cars followed creating a pile up that effectively blocked exit through the gate. Lance threw the truck into reverse.
“There’s Zeke,” Josh said pointing his bleeding arm.
“Fuck him,” Lance said pulling a tight U turn. He saw Zeke waving in his rear view and decided to stop. He might need some manpower. Josh opened the door for Zeke who dove in the cab.
“What the hell’s goin’ on?” Zeke mumbled; his mouth full of chewing tobacco.
Lance didn’t answer. He pulled his truck down the grade towards the water and parked with the engine running. Through the windshield he could see most of the campground. He retrieved his shotgun from the rack behind his head.
“What are we doing?” asked Josh, feeling nauseous.
“I wanna see something,” Lance said with his attention on the camp, “Open the glove box and hand me the shotgun shells.”
Andy Walters heard the sound of the crash from inside his store. As the lights went out, he grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall and shot out the door to see if he could help. A black sedan had smashed into the booth that divided the lanes in and out of the camp. A Honda had wedged sideways against the gate on the incoming lane, broadsided by a gaudy black and gold El Camino. People yelled and ran about in disordered pandemonium. Other cars, lined up behind the wreck were abandoned by their passengers. Andy looked about unsure of what was occurring. A frightened girl in only a bathing suit ran towards Andy screaming. She was being pursued by an older man dressed in fishing gear. The man stretched his arms out and seemed to be growling. Andy side stepped and allowed the girl to enter his store. Without hesitation he lifted the butt end of the fire extinguisher and hit the fisherman in the forehead with a hollow thump. The fisherman’s body continued with its momentum but his head remained in place. He hit the surface of the deck hard.
Andy, seeing no one else approaching, turned and entered his store.
“Are you okay?” he said to the crying girl. He knelt down and set aside the fire extinguisher. The girl was missing the top of her right ear. It was bloody and obviously painful.
“Shit, what happened?” he questioned quietly.
“That man killed my mom, then … then …” tears took the place of speech, Andy understood.
“Calm down, you’re safe now,” he said not knowing if it were true.
The door opened with a jarring rattle, a man entered.
“Call the police,” he said halfway in the door. Arms reached in and grabbed the man from behind pulling him outside. Andy thought he saw the fisherman back on his feet through the glass door. He reached over the counter and picked up his phone. It was dead. The lines ran from his shop to the entrance booth then to the pole outside of camp. The crashed cars had taken out the power and the phones.
The girl remained huddled on the floor in a corner crying. He peered out the door and saw more chaos. The fisherman and his victim were nowhere to be seen. Andy saw the reporter from Warpaint magazine lying on the ground near the registration area twitching in a puddle of his own blood.
“Holy Shit,” he said and locked the doors.
TWENTY-TWO
Mason led the group down the camp road at a medium jog. The girl, Nikki, seemed to be having a little trouble keeping up. He thought it best to keep the group together. He had no idea how fast the injured man could move or if he was giving chase but he wasn’t about to leave one of the girls behind to get hurt. He knew Tony would keep pace with the young lady and stick by her. He could see where that situation was headed. Tony was the world’s biggest sucker for pretty blondes so that meant that Mason would have to stay close as well.
The campsites were now in view. They had just passed the dirt path to their camp. Mason surmised that the office was still half a mile off. To the left, about fifty yards ahead, a woman ran into the road crying and pleading for help. This can’t be good, he thought. Suddenly a teenage male ran after the woman. The teen leapt on the woman and brought her down. She wore only shorts and a tank top. Her exposed knees and palms hit the pavement with a horrible scrape that h
urt to witness. The teen ravaged her from on top of her back and seemed to be biting her shoulder.
Mason broke into a full run with Tony following. The screams for mercy from the woman were heartbreaking. Mason glimpsed a wound on the teen’s back as he approached. He didn’t know what was wrong with the kid but it looked a lot like the other injured man. Something fucked up is going on here, he thought. He stopped at the side of the woman. He wasn’t sure how to remove the teen without hurting the woman as well. The frustration lasted only a fraction of a second however it seemed an eternity of helplessness. The teen looked up and roared a hungry sound. Mason was out of patience. The uplifted head of the teen presented a perfect target. He swung his heavy foot at the thing’s face. The motorcycle boots he wore were armored to protect one’s legs from the weight of a 500 pound dirt bike. In this case, Mason’s reinforced footwear became a sledgehammer. The teen reeled back several feet; bits of wet flesh flying from its mouth. Mason stepped over the woman and placed himself between her and the flailing teen. It rose to its feet and charged. Mason delivered a textbook perfect front kick to his attacker’s sternum. Between the momentum of the rushing boy and the direct focused strike from Mason’s boot, a tremendous amount of force was transferred. Mason heard the boy’s chest crack in several places as it flew backwards. The feel of the impact was unreal and disturbing. Chests were not supposed to be squishy.
“Get her up,” Mason said; his eyes trained on the teen.
Tony turned and threw the small first aid kit to Veronica as she approached, freeing his hands to pick up the woman.
“Wait,” said Veronica opening the first aid kit. She bent down and removed a large gauze bandage. Tearing open the olive drab plastic with her teeth, she expertly unwound the dressing. Looking in the case again she located a packet of antiseptic that looked like a green take-out ketchup packet.
“What the hell is goin’ on?” Tony asked at Mason’s side.
“I don’t know man,” Mason was sure the teen’s chest was caved in, yet he still moved, slowly trying to get back to his feet.
“Did you bring your gun?” Mason asked.
“Locked in your glove box,” Tony said feeling tense that the situation now warranted his pistol. The teen managed once more to gain a vertical base, standing, it lunged again. Nikki screamed. Not wanting to get too close, Mason struck it directly under the chin with his boot. The creature fell back hard, hitting it’s head on the pavement. It appeared to be out cold.
“Why was he biting her?” Nikki asked trembling. Mason turned and looked at the woman. With all the excitement he had yet to absorb the reality of what he saw. It didn’t seem possible that the teen was biting the woman so his mind told him that he had just witnessed some bizarre attack.
“Biting?” Tony questioned. Veronica, having applied the antiseptic, cast the package aside. She looked up and nodded. Mason knew what he had seen was true, unlikely as all hell but he trusted his eyes.
“Look at him,” Mason said. Tony stepped forward. Mason’s arm caught him across the chest, “from here,” he chided.
The teen was missing a small part of his left cheek and two fingers from his right hand. Most of the skin and some muscle from his left shoulder appeared to have been torn away. The neck was mostly intact but his collarbone was exposed through his shredded and bloody shirt.
A loud crash sounded from up the road, followed by tires squealing on pavement and another metal bending impact. The men could see a commotion in the distance near the office.
“Okay, what now?” Tony asked having seen enough.
“Get to the truck, my sword, your gun, and get this woman to a hospital,” Mason said thinking out loud.
“She’s ready,” Veronica said giving the gauze one last knot. Tony bent down and picked up the unconscious woman in a fireman’s carry. Mason took one last look at the decaying teen and saw it begin to stir.
“Let’s go,” urged Nikki ten paces in front of the party.
TWENTY-THREE
Nikki was the first to enter the camp at her top speed. She jumped into the cab of Jack’s white Chevy. Veronica was the next to enter followed by Tony carrying the injured woman and finally Mason.
“Put her on the tailgate,” Veronica said leading Tony to the rear of the truck. She pushed back a large ice chest clearing a space for the woman.
“Grab my sleeping bag,” Tony said to Mason.
Mason moved around to Tony’s tent, pulling the sleeping bag out like a magician revealing some trick. The bag flew open and unzipped. Mason laid out the sleeping bag on the bed of the truck and retrieved his sword. Tony bent down allowing the woman’s bottom to rest on the tailgate in a seated position. He leaned her over gently on her uninjured side. Veronica took over and checked for a pulse. The woman burned with fever. Veronica jumped into the truck bed and opened the ice chest finding it full of cold drinks. She reached in and grabbed three cans of beer and placed them underneath the woman’s neck and in her armpits. Veronica plunged her hands into the ice, retrieving two handfuls and rubbed the cubes over the woman’s temples in a circular motion.
Tony sprinted to the passenger’s side of the truck and opened the door frightening Nikki. He reached in to the glove compartment but found it locked. Looking at the ignition his heart sank. The electrical system was engaged but there was no music to be heard. Reaching over Nikki’s legs he turned the dial on the CD player. The dial was set to ON.
“Shit!” he exclaimed, dashing around the front of the vehicle. Mason hearing Tony’s outburst, stripped the scabbard from his sword and ran to the front of the truck. He saw Tony leap into the driver’s side and turn the starter. Nothing happened.
“Close that door,” he said to Nikki as he shut his own door. He reached out and turned the CD player’s switch off hoping that there might be enough remaining power to turn the motor. Nikki didn’t understand what he was doing and her fear seemed to double. He prayed in his head without words and turned the key. Silence once again. He opened the door and looked at his friend. Jack wore an expression that Tony had never seen before. He thought Mason was going to slug him.
“Dead,” Tony said. Gunshots from the main campground area broke the moment. Nikki flinched and let out a small gasp.
“The bikes,” Mason said in a flood of inspiration. He turned and ran to the trailer that held the men’s motorcycles. Tony pulled the keys from the ignition and leaned over Nikki’s lap. He knew she was terrified but first things first, he thought. Opening the glove compartment he pulled free his .380 caliber handgun, two full magazines and a single loose round. Leaning up and off of Nikki, he chambered the single bullet and slid a clip of six more into the grip of the weapon. He turned to the young blondee.
“Look, everything’s gonna be all right. You’re with good people and we’ll do everything we can to keep you safe.” He felt a little cheesy but thought that the girl needed to hear something positive. He switched his gun to his left hand and put his right on her shoulder squeezing gently for reassurance. She looked at him with her arms crossed as if she were holding herself and nodded.
“What about the woman?” Tony called out to Mason exiting the truck. Jack leaned his Kawasaki against the picnic table with a look of concern. Could we ride three to a bike? He didn’t think it would be possible. He was the better rider out of the two of them with more experience. That would mean Nikki in front of him and Veronica in back. A Jack sandwich, he thought. The seat on his bike was large enough, however the added weight would be difficult to control. Tony could take the injured woman but being unconscious, they would have to tie her hands around his waist. No, that was a recipe for disaster, he realized. If the woman fell, Tony would be dragged down with her.
“I don’t know,” Jack said disheartened.
“There’s no need to worry about it,” a quiet voice said. The voice belonged to Veronica. She eased herself off the back of the truck and pulled the edge of the sleeping bag over the woman’s face. Nikki left the cab of the
truck approaching the rear with hesitation.
“Is she …” Nikki’s voice trailed off.
“Dead,” said Veronica closing her eyes and holding in her tears.
TWENTY-FOUR
Zeke rolled his window down and projected a quarter cup of tobacco spit out of his mouth. The brown syrupy fluid dropped in the ebb and flow of the lake shore, seeming to want to stay together. The blob of liquid lip cancer rocked back and forth in the water, struggling to remain cohesive against the tide.
“Roll your window up, stupid!” Josh said holding his bitten arm. He had tied a dirty bandanna around the small wound. His young attacker had little teeth, but they were sharp. Josh had lost a silver dollar sized bit of skin. He reached his wounded arm over Zeke and pushed down on his already engaged door lock, just to be sure.
“There, see, that one’s biting her,” Lance said pointing. He and his two cronies sat in the idling silver Dodge watching the campground chaos as if it were a drive-in movie.
“We should help them,” Zeke protested.
Rise and Walk Page 10
