The Upheaval Page 19
He rested his head against the wall and took a steadying breath before following the others at a low crouch. They reached the area where the raft had inflated to cover most of the aisle. Carl crept around it and stayed against the back wall. It was the most direct route to the door they had entered through but John had a feeling they weren't going to make it there that easily.
Something else rattled to the floor. The noise echoed through the building, making it difficult to pinpoint the location of the sound, but he knew it had come from somewhere nearby. At the front of the group Carl froze and Xander crept up to sit beside him. John couldn't hear what they were saying but the two of them changed direction and led the group into an aisle filled with toys. John glanced at the assorted dolls, stuffed bears, and dinosaurs that appeared to watch their every move.
Images of Chucky haunted him; he glanced away from the soulless black eyes of the dolls above him as he paused in the middle of the aisle with the others. He glanced toward where they had entered the aisle but thankfully it remained clear. His head tilted back as he caught Riley searching the tops of the shelves.
Relief filled him when he saw they also remained clear. His palms were sweating on his gun; the forceful beats of his heart could be felt against the inside of his ribcage as it pounded out a frantic rhythm. The others slid around the corner of the shelf and into the electronics section. John adjusted his hold on his gun and rapidly followed behind them.
They had almost made it to the middle of the electronics aisle when John spotted the shadow coming at them from the direction of the home goods section. Carl moved far faster than John had thought possible as he changed directions and sprinted toward the circular counter area in the middle of the electronics. There was only one small opening near where they were and three cash registers set up on top of the counter.
John grabbed hold of Josh and pulled him back, they were never going to make it behind the counter in time. Xander rolled into the shelter of the counter area behind Riley. Riley's head popped back out, her eyes were wide with worry as she gestured frantically to him. John shook his head at her, and pulled Josh toward one of the DVD aisles instead. Josh hesitated for a second, apparently torn about which way to go but he gave way to John's grasp.
John wanted to press his back against the rack in an attempt to hide himself even more but he would only knock the DVDs to the floor. He bit his bottom lip as he struggled to get his breathing under control before he laid down on the floor and wormed his way toward the front of the aisle in order to look out.
Memories of being trapped within the gas station assailed him as he met Riley's gaze across the way. They'd gotten out of that mess, he reminded himself; they'd get out of this one too. His gaze drifted away from hers when the first of the pack stepped into view. John felt like he'd just flipped over the handlebars of his bike and slammed chest first into the ground as all of the air rushed out of him.
His fingers flattened on the cool linoleum, his chin pressed against it as the creature's head swiveled back and forth. And creature was the only word he could think of for this once human being standing fifty feet away from him. Its head moved like a snake on the hunt as it passed within feet of the counter where the others were hidden. A large gash on the side of its head had peeled back to reveal the bone of the skull beneath. Its eyes had sunken into its head, making it seem like a walking skeleton moving through the store in search of the prey it had lured in like a Venus flytrap.
Its head turned toward John but he remained immobile as he watched the creature walk by. Eyes that had once been human, and had color, were jaundiced now and would have been better suited on a corpse. Even the irises had a yellowish hue to them. Its skin had taken on a grayish tint that made him think of a dress a serial killer would have created out of human flesh.
Not zombies, he reminded himself, or at least not zombies in the way that they had always believed them to exist. These things didn't come back to life and they hadn't climbed out of any graves. They didn't do any of those things but they were looking more and more like walking corpses every time he saw them.
Nothing human should look like that and still be alive. He fought the urge to slink into the shadows and look away from the monstrosity creeping through the store, but he didn't dare make any movement. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd breathed as his lungs began to burn. Exhaling through his nose, he barely took another breath through his lips.
Another one stepped out behind the first. He could clearly see its upper and lower teeth on the right side as part of its face had peeled away to reveal them. It moved toward the counter and rested its hand upon it. The tips of its bony fingers could be seen poking out through its jagged and peeled back skin.
Were they becoming walking skeletons? He couldn't shake the idea as those bony fingertips made a clicking noise against the top of the counter. A bead of sweat slid from his hairline, down his temple and across his cheek to his eye. It stung his eye but he didn't dare to blink in order to clear it away. Another annoying trickle began to make its way down his cheek as the incessant clicking continued.
He didn't know why they were making noise now, when they had been so silent before, but he didn't like it. He could feel Josh's leg against the bottom of his foot but the kid was like a statue behind him. John's gaze went to where the others were hiding behind the counter but he couldn't see them within the shadows. All the one clicking its fingers would have to do is lean over the counter in order to see them, but it continued onward.
His forehead furrowed as that clicking continued and another one stepped into view from behind them. The noise…
Something wasn't right. He was trying to figure out exactly what it was when a flash of motion to his right caught his attention. His first instinct was to try and push himself even flatter to the floor but he knew immediately that would be the wrong move as something rushed out of the darkness at them.
Too late he understood that the noise had been meant to keep them focused on those creatures and not on the ones stalking steadily closer to them.
Josh leapt forward in an attempt to get away at the same time that John rolled onto his back and lifted his gun. The index finger wrapped around his trigger froze as Josh's lurching body blocked whatever shot he may have had. Josh let out a startled cry when a hand wrapped around his ankle and jerked him back. His body fell on top of John's, pinning the gun in between them. It pressed against his stomach as Josh kicked desperately at his attacker.
"You have to get off!" John grunted. He tried to rid himself of the weight pressing him into the floor but he was unable to dislodge Josh. If Josh didn't get off of him they were both going to be sitting ducks, there was no way to keep their location a secret anymore.
Josh attempted to roll to the side but the creature that had grabbed his leg leapt forward and pounced upon him. Finding himself at the bottom of the pig pile was a sure way to guarantee his death, but that was exactly where John was. The weight of the bodies on top of him made it increasingly difficult for him to breathe as he grappled to get his gun free.
Yellowed eyes that still faintly held a brownish hue, briefly met John's. Those eyes made the world fade away from him as he was confronted with the most terrifying reality of all.
Within those eyes was Hell.
It wasn't the Hell of spitfire and brimstone, with Satan ruling court that many had always considered it to be, this was the real Hell. This was a person trapped within a body and mind that was no longer theirs. Once a normal human being who was now unable to control themselves or no longer cared about their actions. This was a Hell on earth: the likes of which no one had ever dreamed of before in books, or legends, or paintings, except for maybe the Devil himself.
Those eyes held his for a full minute before the person reared back. John flung his free hand up in an attempt to stop it from attacking Josh. He pushed his palm into the thing's cheek. The skin beneath his hand brought to mind a rotten peach and bugs beneath the surface as he
pressed relentlessly against the creature's face. Teeth clacked together as they snapped at him like a rabid dog. John's hold on it was loosened when it suddenly jerked its head to the side and his hand slipped.
Before John could react the thing's teeth sank into the fleshy part of his hand. A startled shout escaped him but it quickly became one of agony as teeth pierced through his skin, clamped down and tore free a chunk of his hand. Disbelief lanced through him as he stared at the bloody mess left behind, then rage tore through him. Fisting his brutalized hand, he pulled it back and drove it savagely into the hideous face above him.
His flesh flew from the thing's mouth; its eyes were full of fury when they came back to his. Above him, Josh continued to squirm as he tried to get away from the thing on top of him. It reeled back again but this time it didn't come for John, it sank its teeth deep into Josh's shoulder. The boy cried out as those teeth dug into his shoulder and the creature jerked back. The crunchy and wet sound of flesh being torn from bone and skin caused John's stomach to turn.
Josh swung back, he tried desperately to beat at the attacker behind him, but he failed to hit anything other than air. The motion allowed John to finally free his hand. The creature swallowed the chunk of flesh he'd torn from Josh. It lurched back at them, pinning Josh down like a crow on carrion as it went back for the hole it had already created in his skin. There was a time when he would have hesitated, but that time had passed. John swung his arm up, pressed the gun against its temple and pulled the trigger.
Blood and brain splattered over the DVDs across from them, John could feel the wetness of it on his face, but he didn't bother to wipe it away. The sound of the shot echoed through the store but it didn't matter, they had been found out long before he'd fired his weapon. The body fell limply over Josh, a dead weight that they both labored to get out from underneath. Another shot sounded in the store, followed rapidly by three more.
He'd never been so happy to see Carl in his life as he appeared over top of them. Carl grabbed hold of the body on top of Josh and hauled it off of him. All color had leeched from Josh's face, his head wobbled like a bobble doll's as he looked around dazedly. Xander jerked off his shirt as he stepped forward, pulled back the sleeve of Josh's t-shirt and pushed his shirt forcefully onto the blood seeping from the hideous wound in his shoulder.
"Hold it there," he commanded and lifted Josh's limp hand to press it against the shirt.
Carl and Xander hauled Josh to his feet as Riley held her hand out to John. "Are you ok?" she demanded.
Blood trickled from his brutalized hand and plopped onto the floor. Despair filled him as he realized the bite might have just signed his death certificate, that something might be invading his body, changing and warping it into something unrecognizable. There was no way he was going to die in this place and at the hands of those things. "Yes."
"We have to go," she said urgently.
A part of him still felt as if he was staring into Hell but he took hold of her hand and climbed to his feet. He spotted the two creatures that had been in the lead at the counter lying dead on the ground, but he didn't know where the third had gone. Josh had his arm draped around Carl's shoulders as they hurried through the back aisle of the electronics section past the large screen TVs.
From somewhere nearby the laughter of the hunters pursuing them rang through the store.
CHAPTER 20
Mary Ellen,
Her breath was loud in her ears as she sprinted across the clearing on Donald's heels. The laughter continued to issue from the woods; the birds above them screeched and flew higher into the sky. She would have given anything to be one of those birds, to be able to take flight and flee the laughter that would haunt her nightmares for the rest of her life. Her heart hammered in her chest, her feet moved so fast she nearly tripped over them as they plunged into the forest.
She'd assumed the shadows of the trees, and the thick trunks that provided them some cover would make her feel better. They did nothing to ease the terror pulsing through her veins. Leaves and pine needles kicked up from underneath him as Donald skidded to a halt and grabbed his backpack from where he'd left it.
"Go!" he panted when she hesitated to wait for him.
She didn't need any more encouragement; she turned and fled into the woods. She tried to be quiet but it was impossible with the leaves and sticks crunching beneath her feet and the tree branches slapping at her hands and face. Al tried his best to keep the branches from hitting her but there were too many for him to keep them all away.
A branch slipped from his grasp, she threw up her hand to try and deflect it but it slapped across her face with a resounding thwack. Her hand flew to her face; she took a staggering step back and tripped over a tree stump. Her arms pin wheeled but they did nothing to help her keep her balance. Sprawling inelegantly to the ground, the breath rushed out of her as she fell on her ass. It wasn't the lack of breath that caused her panic to escalate, but rather the fact that her gun had been knocked from her hand when she'd caught the side of a fallen oak.
Struggling to catch her breath, she rolled to the side to search for her weapon. She'd managed to close her eye in time to keep it mostly protected from the branch but it had caught the corner of her lid and it was already swelling. The hindrance to her vision was making her search even more difficult.
Donald knelt at her side, grabbed hold of her arm and helped to lift her to her feet. "My gun," she panted.
He glanced around before leaning over to grab something from under a pile of pine needles and leaves. She caught a flash of metal before he wrapped her fingers around the cool butt of her gun. Relief filled her but she knew it wouldn't last; it couldn't when those things were in the woods with them.
Donald wrapped his hand around her elbow and propelled her forward. Mary Ellen struggled to see through the increased swelling of her eye and the sweat that ran into her good eye. It didn't matter; she'd run blindly through these woods if it was in the opposite direction of them.
Looking over her shoulder, she realized that they weren't running in the opposite direction of the sick ones. The laughter had trailed off but birds were still rising from the trees behind them, they flew in the same direction that they were running in. She didn't think those things knew where they were but it felt like they were being pursued.
Her lungs burned as her heart lumbered and her fear rose to higher levels. She wiped at her eyes again in a poor attempt to ease the sweat clogging her lashes. "We're leading them back to the cabin," she gasped.
"They're not following us, they're just moving," Donald said breathlessly from beside her. "They'd be on us already if they knew we were here."
Al came to an abrupt halt before a tree; he grabbed hold of Mary Ellen's free arm and pulled her up against the tree. She could barely see the boards in front of her. It took her a minute to understand what she was looking at as he hissed in her ear, "Climb."
"They climb too," she protested.
"Even if they're in the trees the height will give us an advantage and we're not going to outrun them. Climb Mary Ellen," he commanded.
She tucked her gun into her waistband, grabbed hold of a board, and began to pull herself up the tree. She glanced at the stand above her but she could barely see it through the thick leaves and branches of the tree. Blinking back the sweat in her eyes, she focused on the boards in front of her as she climbed steadily higher into the great oak. Reaching above her, she placed her hands on either side of the hole in the stand and lifted herself onto the platform.
Pressing her back against the trunk of the tree, she wiped away the sweat rolling down her face again. She blinked in surprise at the blood that coated the back of her forearm when she pulled it away. The branch hadn't just caused her skin to swell up but had also split it open. Donald climbed through the hole behind her and dropped the backpack onto the wooden platform.
Kneeling at the edge of the platform, he dug into the bag as Al joined them on the stand. It was cramped with t
he three of them on it, but there was still at least a foot on each side for them to move around a little. Her gaze went to the wood beneath her feet, she didn't see any cracks or rot in it, but that didn't mean it was safe. She doubted the person who had built it had done so with the intention of having three people standing on it.
"Get against the tree," Al commanded.
"Are we going to shoot at them?" she whispered.
Al stared at the two of them before shaking his head. "You've both gotten better with a gun but we don't know how many of them there are. We can't risk being overrun or even worse drawing more of them here."
Mary Ellen shuddered and glanced at the ground below them again. "Only shoot if it becomes necessary," Al whispered.
"Ok," she agreed tremulously.
Donald pulled something from the bag, rose to his feet and approached her. She didn't know what he intended until he wiped the blood away with a cloth. With the blood gone she could see better but her eye was still half swollen shut.
"It's not deep," he whispered as he tied the cloth around her head and knotted it. Her hand went up to it; she tried to figure out what he'd used as her fingers ran over the material and knot. "Bandana."
Mary Ellen nodded but she didn't dare speak as a burst of eerie laughter echoed through the trees around them. A loud cry from above caused her head to tilt back. A squirrel leapt from the tree beside them into the leafy bowers over her head. Its tail curled over its back, it screeched its displeasure again before running from one branch to another. Mary Ellen almost told it to be quiet but that would be like telling the wind not to blow.
She pulled her gun from her jeans and tried to catch her breath. She'd let her guard down these past couple of weeks; she'd mistakenly begun to think that perhaps they could be safe here. Now she knew she'd been wrong and though she was terrified, she was also furious.