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Authors: Kevin J. Howard

Tags: #Science Fiction, #LT

Precipice: The Beginning (17 page)

BOOK: Precipice: The Beginning
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“Son of a bitch!” Dasher rolled onto his back and held his shoulder, clenching his teeth together while shivering.

Dasher tried to sit up but the pain consumed him, swirling about his mind like a dust storm. He fell back into the damp earth and began to cry. Tears ran freely like the rain dripping down through the trees coverage above. An emotional release he couldn’t contain. For five minutes he lay in the rain, crying like an infant and unable to stop. Too much had happened. Horrors he had never expected to witness. Dasher wiped his eyes and laughed, thinking it was such a waste to dry his eyes while lying in the rain. The will to sit up had left him. He wanted to just lie there, fall asleep in the woods and wake up to a normal world. A creature shrieked its inhuman cry, tearing through the trees.

“God protect me,” Dasher spoke to the dark sky, squinting his eyes against the rain.

Dasher rolled onto his good shoulder, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He hadn’t realized how tired he was, how drained the last hour had left him. Being in the presence of such atrocities milked his mind like an utter. The sound of grunting brought him back to reality, getting him to his feet. Both legs were sore from his sprint from the prison, burning like acid. But he kept going, pushing himself harder and faster, occupying his mind with hopes of a better tomorrow. Maybe he’d stumble out of the woods to find a military outpost ready to take out the creatures in an orgy of firepower and explosives. It was surprising even to him that the first thing he’d want to see after breaking free of prison would be the authorities. But at least prison guards fed you and didn’t eat you.

But there were no authorities. Nothing beyond the trees but a slight slope and a black highway littered with wrecked vehicles. The muddy slope slipped out beneath his feet and carried him down with it, rolling head over feet with the mud, screaming out in pain from the collision of his bruised shoulder and the ground and finally rolling onto his back and sliding down to the highway’s shoulder. Dasher rolled onto his feet and crawled up the muddy embankment to the dark highway. The road was thick with cars. He walked from car to car, looking through the windows to the empty drivers seats. Almost every vehicle was smashed or burning, charred remains of twisted metal crumpled with the car in front of it. Dasher came to a Porsche and shook his head, always wanting one but now that he was able to take it, the damn thing had two flat tires and the windshield was smashed. Besides, the keys were gone.

“Where the hell is everyone?” Dasher asked himself, climbing up onto the roof of the Porsche to get a better view of the highway. “Hello!?” Dasher cupped his hands to increase volume, but no one answered back.

He hopped off the hood and stood for a moment, placing a hand over his eyes to block the rain at least for a little while. He turned in a complete circle, but there was nothing, nowhere to go and no help. Dasher walked between the cars, hoping to find one that wasn’t damaged too badly or wedged in so tightly he could take it. Finally, lying on its side with a key still in the ignition, a Harley-Davidson motorcycle sat unharmed. Dasher smiled for perhaps the first time in weeks, bending down to grip the handle bars and lift the bike onto its wheels. It’s been so long since he’d last ridden a motorcycle and he’d forgotten how damn heavy they were. With his shoulder still burning from the bruised flesh, he flung his leg over the bike and took a seat, bouncing a bit from the shocks. He turned the key and let out a laugh of pure delight as something was finally going his way. The comforting vibration of the bike beneath his legs felt fantastic. Something tangible and real. Something normal in a day that had been anything but. With an exhale, Dasher revved the engine and took off, driving slowly down the shoulder. He had to maneuver through debris, luggage and car parts littering the shoulder and road like confetti. Mixed with the heavy rain, it made it impossible to travel faster than five miles an hour. Fear kept a continual presence within Dasher’s mind, tapping on his head like an aggressive salesman wanting to come in. More than anything he wanted to gun it, leaving the prison far behind. He was a fugitive after all. Hopefully they’d understand why he’d been forced to run through the woods like a frightened little bunny, going easy on him if he were to be recaptured. But then again, going by the looks of things, they had bigger problems.

 

 

35

A
nnie was running short of ideas and time was short. The night air was cold and her son was shivering, hungry and tired. They had run as far as they could, knocking on every door they’d passed without an answer. Either no one wanted to help them or there was no one left. Half the doors they knocked on were left ajar, blood on the porch. One such door had a human hand left on the doormat, just lying there like a newspaper. Annie had been thankful the kids hadn’t seen it. They were already rattled enough. Logan had been crying ever since they’d climbed down the ladder while poor Abby was all but catatonic. Erica held her daughter tightly to her chest, covering her head with her own coat while enduring the heavy rain. Erica’s flesh had gone numb minutes after they’d left the house, but it didn’t register. Nothing did past the concern for her child’s wellbeing.

“We have to get out of here,” Erica shouted over the rain.

“Where?” Annie turned from the last house on the block, agitated no one had answered her pleas for help. “Where the hell is everyone?”

“The kids need to get out of the rain!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Annie calmed her temper, not wanting to yell at Erica in front of the children, especially when they needed to stay calm, at least for their sake. “There’s that grocery store just up the road.”

“Anything. We just need to go.” Erica was on the verge of hysterics.

Annie nodded, sensing the vulnerability coming off her friend in waves. She needed her calm and cool if they were going to stay safe. Annie jumped and grabbed hold of her son as gunshots rang out, close by from the sound. The shots were followed by a shriek and then a woman screaming. More gunshots came from the other direction. It seemed this chaos was everywhere. Annie felt panicked, unable to think. She looked down into the face of her son and felt apologetic, as if this was in some way her fault.

“We need to go.” Erica tugged at Annie’s arm.

Annie nodded, taking hold of her son’s hand. They walked down the sidewalk and headed across the street, passing more dark houses and open doors. The world had gone dark in what seemed like a matter of hours. The houses sat without lights, streetlamps dormant. Whether or not the blackout had been caused by these creatures was irrelevant, but God help them if they were clever enough to knock out the lights. Annie didn’t want to think about it. All she needed to focus on was the safety of her son and nothing more. Getting Logan out of the rain and into a safe location was the only thing that mattered, the only objective and concern. The notion to sneak inside someone’s home was all but too inviting, but there could be anything lurking inside. With the power out, there was just too many dark corners to hide in. Annie figured the grocery store was their best bet. It had food, clothing and medical supplies. Plus there was nothing else closer and they were out of options. Annie tapped the gun in her pocket just to confirm she had something on her side, some form of protection out here in the dark. Screaming for help sure wasn’t going to do anything.

They had made it to the corner without incident, looking across the street with a heavy heart at the burning remains of the Good Earth Grocery Store. The flames lit up the darkness, flickering shadows across the street and warming them despite the freezing rain.

“Get down,” Annie whispered harshly, pulling hard on Erica’s arm.

They dropped to the pavement and pulled themselves beneath a pickup truck. They had to squeeze together to keep hidden beneath the truck, laying over their children to shield them as best they could. Annie tucked her arm beneath Logan’s cheek, keeping his face out of the three-inch deep water. She held her finger to her lips to shush them, motioning with her head toward the street. Erica peered out beneath the truck and saw four creatures walking down the center of the road. They walked on their hands and feet, hunched over like dogs. They stopped and sniffed the air, lifting up to stand on their hind feet. Their naked forms showed no sign of gender. Annie had seen enough horror movies in her younger years to know these weren’t your average hillbilly murderers or toxic mutation. These were something different, some kind of creatures from within the earth or demons straight from hell. The one standing out front, the leader of this little pack, let out a series of grunts and snarls. The three behind broke off and ran into the night, heading down more suburban streets to treat themselves to some more human snacks. Annie kept her eyes glued to the one that remained, standing in the middle of the road while sniffing the air. In a flash it leapt forward and ran across the street on all fours, heading for the pickup truck.

A car turned the corner and peeled out, hydroplaning from the water on the roadway. The creature turned as the car plowed into it, rolling end over end to crash into the grocery store. Annie shielded Logan’s head as the car exploded, sending wooden boards from the store out into the air, falling all around them and onto the truck. Logan and Abby screamed beneath their mothers, crying out in fear as the flaming wreckage slammed against the truck, falling into the cab until the truck itself had caught fire.

“We have to move.” Annie could smell the burning upholstery from the seats above her, knowing full well it was only a matter of time until the flames reached the gas tank.

Annie slid out from beneath the truck first, crouching low and making sure the coast was clear before taking hold of Logan’s hand. Most of the wooden boards scattered about the street had been extinguished by the rain and deep water over the road. Annie lifted Logan up into her arms, turning in a slow circle to try and weigh their options. Her heart rate quickened as two creatures emerged from the shadows, walking slowly toward them with their heads slightly cocked. They sniffed the air with savage hunger, smelling their flesh.

“Get up. We have to run!” Annie screamed, unsure where the hell they could go.

“Hurry!”

Annie turned toward the voice, spying the darting light of a flashlight from the hardware store on the corner of the next block. She took hold of Erica’s hand and pulled her through the water, yanking her out from beneath the truck. The creatures shrieked in unison as they ran forth, sprinting after them and quickly closing the distance. Annie pulled her gun and fired behind her, unable to aim while running as fast as she could. Logan felt heavy in her arms, but he was not going to slow her down. Quite the opposite really. His weight added purpose and urgency, a reminder why she needed to make haste. Her love for her son made her legs pump that much harder, splashing through the water on the road without slowing.

“Drop. Get down!”

Annie and Erica fell to their knees and ducked, cradling their children’s heads as the men standing outside the hardware store opened fire. The barrage of bullets flew overhead by inches, hitting the beasts head on as they charged. Annie turned and watched in a panic as they drew near, coming forth despite the automatic weapons slamming round after round into their bodies and heads. Still they kept coming. Annie gripped her son tightly, knowing it was all she could do. As their distance closed in to only a few feet, the creatures fell forward, sliding along the water to come to rest four feet from Annie. She looked down at the creatures as they took their last breaths. Their glowing eyes dimmed and faded as they died.

“Hurry. You have to get inside before more of them come,” a man yelled from the doorway, holding a shotgun. “Please!” He held out his hand to them.

Annie took one final look at the dead beasts, their bodies so different than anything she had ever seen. Their teeth protruded through the skin above its mouth, no real lip to speak of. They were sharp and uneven, black guns with bits of flesh and cloth stuck between them. These were hunters plain and simple. Annie was thankful to turn away, taking hold of the man’s hand at the entrance of the hardware store.

“There’s plenty of food and water inside.” Skip Bateman shook Annie’s hand. “Name’s Skip and this is my store. You’re welcome here.” He was sincere, happy to spare the two children any more horror. Skip was a single man, but he loved children. Always had.

“Thank you so much.” Annie was truly grateful, knowing full well they had no other options.

“Thank you for your kindness.” Erica was close to tears.

The four of them stepped out of the rain and into the warm glow of candles set throughout the store. It was so comforting to be around people again, a small sense of normality.

“You’ll find some water bottles over by the register there.” Skip shut and locked the front door, lowering the security gate made of chain link. “Feel free and help yourself.” Skip pulled on the gate and confirmed its security. He took a deep breath and set down the shotgun. With a slight smile of humility, he picked up the shotgun and set it behind the counter. “I’m not accustomed to having little children around.”

“I understand.” Annie set Logan on the ground and took a deep breath of her own, settling her heart for the first time in many hours. “Have you heard any news about what is happening here?”

“Nothing.” Skip bent down and opened a cooler beside the counter, getting himself a cold bottle of water. The arthritis in his hands made it hard to twist the cap. “The last thing we heard on the radio was from some station in Washington D.C.. They said these creatures are running through every major city. Coming out of those goddamn cracks in the ground. Pardon my French.”

“What are they?” Erica pleaded, needing to have some kind of answers. Her mind begged for clarity or it threatened to shut down.

“No one has said for sure.” Skip shrugged. “Demons, underground monsters. I haven’t a clue.”

“Shut up! All of you,” Sam Mitchell shushed, waving his hands about. “Put out those fucking candles or they’ll come back.” He ran to the window and peeked out, darting his head frantically to see every angle.

“Calm down.” Annie held out her hands. She instantly disliked this man, sensing panic, fear, and stupidity.

“Don’t shush me bitch. We risked our safety to save you and your brat.”

“Zip it.” Skip held up a finger in warning. “I will have none of that in my store.”

Sam bounced a bit in his stance, angry and wanting to lash out at them but remembering his place. He was grateful to Skip for opening his doors to him, allowing him to hide from those beasts after they’d destroyed his Mercedes. Damn thing had just come back from the detailers. Polished and pretty, then those fucking demons. So very typical. Sam turned from Skip and looked Annie dead in the eyes, giving her a hard stair. But Annie returned his glare, burning holes through him with her eyes, delivering a promise that if he ever called her son a brat again she’d rip him apart. Seeing that she meant it, Sam gave a final huff and walked off, disappearing down the aisle marked “plumbing.”

“Please don’t take offense,” Skip apologized. “Some people were just born that way.”

“What’s his name?” Eleanor Schultz asked as she knelt before Logan, cupping his chin with her elderly fingers.

“I’m Logan.”

“Oh what a big boy you are. My name is Eleanor and it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Eleanor shook his cold hand, happy to be changing the mood from anger to pleasant. “We have several tents and sleeping bags set up in the back of the store.” Eleanor gripped the counter so she could stand, her knees cracking. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“I’m Annie and this is my son Logan. This is Erica and her daughter Abby.”

“You’re all welcome here. Some people tend to forget that manners are what separate us from those creatures outside.” Eleanor hooked a thumb toward the plumbing aisle.

“Thank you both for your kindness. I think we’ll take you up on your offer for a place to crash. We’re all so tired.”

“Your little ones need a good rest. And you will all be safe here.”

“That’s right,” Skip added, confident in his store as he had been since its opening twelve years ago. “We have a rotating shift for watching the front entrance here. Plenty of weapons and the weak spots have already been boarded up.” Skip sighed, looking back over his shoulder to the boarded windows. He’d seen one of those things flip a car onto its side without effort. Would some boards of wood hastily nailed to the walls do anything than offer them a little piece of mind?

“Oh thank God.” Erica ran a hand through Abby’s hair. “We’re both so tired.”

Annie and Erica took some waters and cold sandwiches from the cooler before walking through the aisles to the back of the store. The further they got from the front entrance the darker it became, the candles’ light barely touching the tents set up in the back of the store. Annie stopped and knelt down, lifting Logan up into her arms. An arm’s length was too far a distance to have her son, not after their mad sprint through the rain. It had become far too dark in here, passing through the center of the aisles where the candlelight didn’t reach them. In a brief moment of panic, Annie gripped her son a little too tightly to her chest.

“Mommy!” Logan squirmed beneath her arms.

“Sorry baby.” Annie loosened her grip.

They came to the end of the aisle and stood a moment, looking left to right at all the tents and sleeping bags, huddles of families squatting on the floor with their heads down. It looked like an internment camp. Damp cheeks everywhere, heavy silence broken with occasional sobbing. A three-year-old girl was curled up on a sleeping bag to their left, rocking slightly as she held herself tight. Her mother sat beside her with a hand running through her hair, but her attention was on the distant windows. She too thought the boards were too flimsy. But there were no other options. Her handgun was out of bullets and the creature she’d put six bullets in was still out there, limping along.

Annie led her ragtag group of four cautiously over the occupied sleeping bags. She released a breath of relief as they came to a three-person tent that was currently unoccupied. No sleeping bags set up, but that didn’t matter. Right now she could collapse on a mound of broken glass and sleep long and deep. As long as they were indoors next to people she’d be fine.

“Do you trust these people?” Erica set Abby on the ground.

BOOK: Precipice: The Beginning
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