The Shuddering (22 page)

Lauren let out a scream, but she squelched it fast. She shot Ryan a terrified look, her eyes begging him to tell her what to do. But he couldn’t process what he was seeing. This was impossible, like one of those horror movies that made him throw his hands up and proclaim it was all crazy and improbable and it could never happen; how could something be scary if it could never be true? But there it was—a creature standing in the gray daylight as if to mock his skepticism, as if to say,
See? Nightmares
do
exist.

And then, as if to mess with his already blown concept of what was real, that skeletal thing darted away, dodging back into the safety of the trees that lined the road.

Lauren stood frozen, her eyes impossibly wide, her chest heaving beneath her coat.

“Fucking
run
,” he told her, and they both fell into a sprint. His instinct was to save himself, to run ahead and survive, and once his legs started pumping, the impulse to keep running was nearly too strong to fight. He had to get back to the cabin, had to get to safety, had to get to Jane, had to get out of there. But Lauren…he couldn’t leave her. This girl. This wonderful, mind-blowing, beautiful girl. Rejecting the urge to keep running toward safety, he slowed enough to twist around, his arm extending out behind him, reaching for Lauren’s hand as she stumbled toward him, kicking up snow.

They charged up the driveway, fighting the slope, Ryan pulling Lauren along as she began to lag, her legs sinking deep into the powder. “Hurry up!” he urged. The longer the monster stayed gone, the louder the cacophony of a group moan that rose from the trees. He couldn’t believe it. It sounded like there were dozens of them. A dozen of these fucking nightmares calling one
another, announcing that they had found their next meal. Ryan’s eyes went wide as the moans grew more insistent, more vicious as they rattled deep within those things’ throats. He gave Lauren a yank, spooling his arm around her back as he tried to rush her along.

Lauren stumbled, falling forward, sinking into the thick blanket of snow. He tried to grab her by the arms as she struggled to right herself, their breath coming in quick, quaking gasps. Ryan’s jaw dropped when the creature took a flying leap back into the drive, every sinewy muscle in its body pronounced beneath a thin sheath of skin. He skittered backward, nearly losing his balance in the process, groping at the girl before him, his mind screaming
get out of here, get yourself off this fucking hill
.

Lauren scrambled to her feet as the thing watched from a safe distance away, and for a moment Ryan was mesmerized by the size of its teeth, each one as wide as two fingers put together, tapering off to a terrifying point. Those teeth were predatory, stained by the blood of its kill; but rather than four canines set between two rows of incisors, there were a good dozen fangs jutting out of an impossibly large mouth. The way its maw hung open reminded him of an anglerfish. It was watching them, as though relishing the horror that wafted off them like a pheromone, as though enjoying the cadence of Lauren’s quiet, weepy gasps as she struggled to right herself.

Ryan’s heart lurched to a stop when the thing squatted deeper into the snow, its muscles rippling beneath hairless gray flesh, a grotesquely wet rumble resonating from deep within its throat. It canted its head to the side, its huge mouth giving it a perpetual smile. Its black marble eyes flashed in the pale morning light.

Midscramble, Lauren froze in place when a second creature stepped out of the shadow of the trees, that same frothy snarl vibrating against the hollow of its throat. This one was closer,
having stepped out from the trees less than ten feet away, its soulless eyes fixed on Ryan, its teeth so big they were forever exposed.

Ryan was as rooted in place as Lauren was, both of them suspended in a pocket of breathless horror. But just as the closest hunter was ready to pounce, Lauren’s cry pulled the savage’s attention away.

“Get away from him!” she screamed. The battle cry would have made sense if Lauren had some sort of weapon to defend herself, but she stood empty-handed, armed with nothing but her own fearlessness.

The creature appeared almost startled by her defiance. It lurched backward, then twisted around and bolted back into the trees. Ryan watched Lauren’s determination melt into what could have only been stunned surprise, his own heart clamoring for freedom from his chest. She turned to look at him, bewilderment written on her face. For a split second she almost seemed to smile, proud of herself, but Ryan shook his head.

No
.

This wasn’t over.

Run.

He reached for her hand, unable to breathe, about to choke on his own pulse as the creature down the slope of the drive launched itself forward.

He heard the thing bolt up behind them.

His eyes locked with Lauren’s, her expression frozen in time like a snapshot. But her gaze didn’t reflect the horror he felt. Behind wisps of flaxen hair, she looked mystified, as though unable to believe where they were, what was happening, what would inevitably become of them both.

Her hand was torn from his grasp as she was snapped backward. He stared wide-eyed as the thing threw her onto her back, Lauren kicking her legs at the oncoming horror, trying to scare
it away with her screams. She planted her foot against one of its bulbous knees—nothing but a ball-shaped joint suspended between two leg bones—jamming her heel against it as hard as she could, but rather than forcing it to stumble, she made it angry instead. Ryan continued to stare as the hellion reeled back, its mouth open impossibly wide, and then charged her. Ryan’s brain screamed for him to help her while his instincts urged him back up the road.
You need a weapon
, it shrieked.
You can’t fight that thing with your bare hands.
The creature’s jaws snapped just inches from Lauren’s face as she shoved it backward with her feet.

Ryan’s gaze snagged on the snowboard on top of Sawyer’s Jeep. But the Jeep was downhill, and Lauren and the creature were between him and the car. He turned uphill, started to run again—there were three more on top of the Nissan. If he could get back to the driveway, he’d have something to swing at that fucking thing.

Lauren gave a bloodcurdling scream.

Ryan’s heart ceased to beat.

No
, he thought.
Nonono!

He reeled around, hardly able to process the scene. There was blood. So much blood. Lauren was still kicking at the thing above her, but with only one leg. Her other leg lay motionless in the crimson snow, detached, the foot twisted at an impossible angle. The creature grabbed her flailing limb, crouched low to the ground in a pool of gore-drenched snow, and, in a move that was a gruesome imitation of a sex act, lifted Lauren’s hips before burying its mouth in the massive, gushing wound below her pelvis. Its black eyes locked onto Ryan as it fed, challenging him as sucking noises punctuated the short-lived silence, broken by Lauren’s final scream.

Oona was going nuts out on the porch, her bark a mixture of alarm and aggression. Jane stopped at the kitchen door, her hand
on the knob, hesitating. Since Oona had turned on her the night before, it was a wise idea to let the husky calm down.

“What the hell?” Sawyer murmured, watching Oona lose it as she jumped up onto her hind legs, her front paws pounding the redwood railing, shoving her nose through the slats of the deck. But despite her apparent eagerness to get at whatever was out there in the trees, she refused to bound down the stairs and toward the road.

“I don’t know,” Jane said, her face twisting with worry.

Every hair on Sawyer’s body stood on end when he heard the wail.

“Oh my god.” Jane tore the door open, running into the snow in her socks. Sawyer followed her, his hand clamped around one of her arms, the cold biting at his skin as he held her back.

The screaming continued, impossibly loud for the fact that they couldn’t see where it was coming from. Jane was already crying, panicked, and despite the yell belonging to a female, she was yelling Ryan’s name, weeping it into her hands. Sawyer’s heart rattled in his chest, sure the screams were coming from April, sure that something terrible had occurred. Maybe she had stayed outside so long because she had hurt herself. Maybe she had stepped into a snowdrift or stumbled down the embankment into the ravine that flanked the drive and broken her leg.

Sawyer tried to pull Jane back inside, pushing through his own fear, his pulse thudding in the hollow of his throat.

“What are you doing?” Jane squealed, shoving Sawyer away from her, trying to get around him, but he wouldn’t relent, blocking her way.

“Go inside,” he told her.

“What? No!”

“Go inside, Jane!” Sawyer yelled, turning to run down the steps. He stopped when Jane’s hands clamped over his wrist,
squeezing it tight. “She needs my help,” he told her, tearing his hand from her grasp, then bolted down the stairs, running past the Xterra and toward the road where his Jeep sat incapacitated deep in the drift. He all but collided with his best friend as Ryan took the bend, his eyes wild, his expression unreadable.

“Get back inside,” Ryan choked, frantically shoving Sawyer backward. But the screaming hadn’t stopped. It was weaker, but he could still hear it. Sawyer grabbed Ryan by his wrists, swung him around so they exchanged positions.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded. Where was April? Where was Lauren? Why the hell did Ryan abandon them? All he had to do was take a few steps down the driveway to see what was happening. Breaking free of Ryan’s grasp, Ryan clawed at the fabric of Sawyer’s T-shirt, desperately trying to stop him.

“No!” he yelled. “Get the fuck
back
!”

“Did you find her?” Sawyer shouted in return, panic seizing his throat, but he stopped short when he reached the driveway. A dozen yards away, there was a huddle of what looked to be naked men, their corpse-like skin glistening with splotches of red. They were shoving one another, fighting over a kill. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the amount of blood that was splashed across the snow between them. And then there was a girl, cracked open like a gourd, steam rising from her exposed entrails. Something in his brain clicked, identifying her—
April
. It was April, torn apart, his unborn child ground down to nothing between a demon’s teeth. But a flash of blonde hair upon red-painted snow snapped him back to reality.

It was Lauren.

Sawyer stood frozen in place, his mouth agape, his eyes fixed on the one creature that had stopped contending with the others and was now looking right at him, its nightmarish fangs clacking
together. It canted its head to the side like a curious dog, that gruesome grin slathered in blood.

Sawyer lurched backward when Ryan groped at his shirt, both of them stumbling up the stairs. But Sawyer wasn’t ready to go inside. Despite his terror, he had to get out there, had to find April. He shoved Ryan away, trying to get around him, only to have Ryan push him in return.

“Get off me!” Sawyer yelled as they struggled, Ryan forcing him toward the open door while Sawyer fought to escape his grasp. Amid the panic, Oona let out a snarl, convinced her owner was under attack. She reeled back, her teeth bared, and bit down, her teeth sinking deep into Sawyer’s skin. But, teetering on the edge of what felt like insanity, he hardly noticed the dog chomping down on his forearm. Shoved inside the house, he watched Ryan throw the dead bolt into place. A flimsy lock wasn’t going to do a goddamn thing against the monsters outside—but it sure would do its job if April came stumbling up the porch steps and tried to get inside. She’d be locked out. Doomed.

He stared at the lock, sure that lock was sealing her fate, torn between the safety of the group and the safety of the woman who carried his child. She was out there somewhere, hiding, waiting for it to be safe before she bolted toward the cabin. She was smart. Resourceful. She’d come back. She had to come back.

He snapped out of his daze when Ryan grabbed him.

“Jane, get in the pantry,” Ryan yelled.

Wearing a look of terrified confusion, Jane jumped at the order and blindly did what she was told, her eyes brimming over with frightened tears.

Ryan shoved Sawyer away from the door and across the kitchen. They scrambled into the walk-in pantry at the mouth of the hallway, Jane already inside, wide-eyed and terrified, her face a mask of bewildered dread. Oona ran in behind them, her tail
between her legs, and Ryan slammed the door closed, searching for something to use as a barricade, but there was nothing. All the shelves were secured to the walls, immovable.

“What happened?” Jane asked, her voice shrill with fear. “Where’s Lauren?” When Ryan didn’t answer her, Jane’s dread bloomed into hysteria. “
Where’s Lauren?!
” she screamed, clawing at her brother’s chest, trying to move him away from the door. Sawyer caught her by her arms, pulling her back. She thrashed against his grasp, twisting as she attempted escape, the blood from his fresh dog bite smearing across her arms as she tried to wriggle free. “Tell me where she is!” she demanded, her tone crackling with a desperate rage Sawyer had never heard before, one that made him feel numb. “Let me go!” Jane screamed, trying to escape Sawyer’s grasp. “I need to go get her!”

A flash of Jane running out into the snow: those things falling onto her, snarling, fighting over which one of them got the best piece of his first love. His stomach twisted, the sudden burn of nausea threatening to double him over where he stood.

“No,” he said.

Lauren was dead.

“You can’t.”

She was
dead
.

“We need to stay here.” His voice cracked.

April was still out there. Scared. Alone.

Ryan pressed his back to the door and slid down it, his head in his hands.

“She’s gone, Janey,” Sawyer said, his voice warbling with emotion. “Lauren’s gone.”

Jane stood motionless in his grasp, as though the life had gone out of her within a blink.

Sawyer’s heart twisted, burning in his chest, his wounded arm throbbing in time with his pulse. He looked away, unable to
stop picturing April out there, freezing, hiding from those things. But he couldn’t go out there. If he did, Jane would follow. Jane twisted away from him, crashed to her knees, and sobbed into Ryan’s shoulder. Her cry tore through Sawyer, punching him in the heart.