Authors: Aaron Ross Powell
There were no dreams, not that he remembered, and Elliot awoke to rain. The sun had come up not long before and now he looked out on a grey stretch of freeway, three empty lanes in both directions. He turned to Evajean, seeing flashes of her with the box raised over her head in Nahom, and said, “Evajean, wake up. It’s morning.”
She shifted, rolling to the side and pushing at the seatbelt. Hope yawned in her lap.
“What time is it?” she asked, blinking.
“I don’t know.”
“We stopped.”
“I couldn’t go anymore.” He’d rolled the window back up, against the chill, before nodding off, and the windows had a thin layer of fog. He wiped at them now.
“That’s okay,” she said. “I’m sorry I can’t help.”
“With the driving?”
She nodded.
“I’ll manage,” he said. “Do you want anything to eat?”
“No,” she said. “But I should. I guess I just- I feel sick.”
“Yeah. Me too. I’ll see what I can find.” He climbed out and into the rain. It wasn’t heavy and felt good as he walked around to the back of the truck and dug through the bed until he’d come up a bagged loaf of bread and several apples. For Hope, he took a handful of jerky.
The three ate and looked out across the pavement and thought about what was next.
Twice he almost asked her about Nahom, almost pressured her to remember, but the trauma was too close and he set the questions aside. Instead, he addressed the continuing first leg of their expedition.
“We’re still going to Colorado,” he said, when finished his second slice of bread.
“Are you asking?”
“No. We still are, right?”
“Yeah. Sure. All this stuff we saw, Elliot, I don’t think it should stop us.”
“No,” he said.
“So yeah, we’re still going to Colorado. And then on up to Montana, was it? I’m sorry, I can’t remember. It feels like it’s been so long since we talked about this. But it’s only been-”
“A few days.”
“Man,” she said. “Only a few days. I’m so tired.”
“So am I.”
“In Colorado-and I still think I’m right about that-in Colorado, we’ll be okay. Safe. If anyone’s left there, then they’ll know what to do.”
“What is there to do?” Elliot asked. He whispered it, to himself more than her.
“What is there? Elliot, we’ll be safe. Whoever’s there will make us safe. That’s where they were taking everyone-”
“Taking the dead ones.”
“But that means something’s there.”
“Sure,” he said.
“What’s wrong?” She tossed an apple core out the window, where it bounced on the gravel curb. “I mean, of course tons is wrong, but what’s wrong right now?”
“I don’t know,” he said.
“Elliot…”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay.” She picked up Hope and scratched his chin. The dog yawned. “We won’t go there, I guess. So,” she shimmied backwards into her seat, sitting up straight, “what’s next then, stay on this road?”
“I think so,” Elliot said. “It was I-70 all the way. That goes through Denver.”
“How far?”
“I don’t know. Could be-”
“We don’t have a map,” she said, like this was something new and distressing.
“No.”
“So we don’t know where we are. Have you ever made this drive?”
Elliot shook his head. “We were in California and then we came out here. But I flew-to take care of things-and Clarine and Callie drove. You?”
“No,” she said. “But, hey, we’ll see something we recognize eventually, right?”
“I hope so.”
The rain stopped then and Evajean opened her door, letting Hope dash outside. She climbed out after him. “I need to pee,” she said. She smiled at him. “You should too, you know. With those crazies maybe still out there, I don’t want to have to stop again.”
Elliot nodded and pushed open his door. The air outside felt good: chilled and damp, but clean. He scratched the side of his face and stared out over the flat and grassy earth in what he was almost certain was north. And there, some distance away, he saw a bulge.
It’s only rocks
, he thought.
Huge rocks.
But it wasn’t, Elliot knew, because rocks wouldn’t move.
Evajean was coming around the side of the truck, zipping her jeans. “You see that?” he said to her, pointing.
“Where?” Then she saw and stood up stiff. “Elliot, what is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s moving.”
“Yeah.”
She squinted, stepping forward. “It’s coming towards us.”
She was right. Whatever was moving along the horizon, smooth and even, got bigger as he watched and, as it drew closer, he could see that it was
turning
. “Back in the truck,” he said and Evajean nodded, still staring. “Now,” he said and grabbed her arm. She pulled away from him and ran to where Hope was playing in the grass. But then the dog saw it too and, barking fiercely, ran away from them, away from the truck, and across the field. Evajean screamed its name and followed, stumbling through low shrubs.
Elliot cursed. That thing had to be dangerous because the entire world had gone dangerous and now, as he watched the only two living beings he could count on not to attack him charge in the direction of this new and terrifying beast, he flushed with a deep hatred of everything the world had done to him. It wouldn’t stop-this vile world enjoyed every minute of it.
“Stop!” he shouted after her. “Stop!” But she didn’t and the puppy was
fast
, widening the gap between them and shrinking the distance to the beast-and he could see that it was a beast because there were legs churning, driving the grey bulk forward.
It was the size of a two bedroom bungalow. A fat, slick body pulsed and rolled over legs as thick and meticulous as an elephant’s, though at least twice as numerous. And the face… Callie had watched this show about trains, talking trains, and she’d made them buy her the merchandise on three consecutive birthdays, and now, watching this thing close the distance, he could swear the face was one of those trains. More toothy, yes, and with larger, watery eyes, but the same face nonetheless. There was no neck and no indication of an actual head-just the horrible features stamped on the front of a grotesque lump of a body, like a decal glued to a car’s hood. And Elliot knew the hate the world had for him went deeper than taking his wife and child, deeper than stripping him of the life he’d loved, and descended all the way to pounding on the fragile walls of his mind.
The crazies he could understand in their pseudo-humanity, and even the fireworks from Evajean back in that mad town. These last were, at the very least, the actions of a woman he knew. This thing, however, which stumbled and churned through the grass and rain, was unfathomable.
So he didn’t bother trying. Instead, he ran after Evajean and kept his head down, not looking at the thing. It was just another threat, like the crazies, and as long as he thought of it that way, his mind would let him through this.
The creature was a hundred yards away when Elliot caught up to Evajean. She shouted Hope’s name while running after him, bent low low to scoop him up if he got within distance. Again Elliot called for her to stop, but Evajean had become attached to the animal-and focusing on it meant not having to look up at the beast.
He grabbed her and pulled back at just the time she caught hold of Hope’s tail. The dog barked in pain as Evajean hauled it up and Elliot was surprised to hear it, realizing with some fascination that the creature was charging them without sound. It’s feet thudded into the grass, yes, but it wasn’t howling or roaring or snarling. It was simply looking at the two of them as it ran.
“Truck!” he shouted at Evajean and turned, yanking her, not looking for a response. But she ran with him, the creature close behind. He could smell it now, a shark sourness like old sweat and urine.
This is it,
his mind screamed.
I’ve gone mad. I’m done.
Evajean pulled in front of him, faster than he could move. The truck couldn’t be this far away, could it? Why was it taking so goddamn long to get there? He pushed himself and then made the mistake of looking back. The best was close, only a dozen yards away at most, and now he could see that its grey skin wasn’t just slick but oozed, clear liquid spilling out of circular rises in the flesh like tiny volcanoes. He wanted to vomit.
The truck was there suddenly, right in front of them. He fumbled in his pocket for the keys, still running, and found them. Behind him, the creature hissed, a sound like a phlegmy cat. The dog barked so rapidly in Evajean’s arms that it sounded like a single long and excruciating call for help.
Then they were inside the vehicle, somehow with the creature not yet upon them. Elliot shoved the key in, turned it, and gunned the engine. The monstrous thing stopped at this, rearing back, its front four legs coming off the ground and kicking. Elliot jerked his foot down on the gas and twisted the wheel, forcing the truck out onto pavement.
They’d only made it up to twenty five miles per hour when the creature recovered from its fright or confusion and started after them again. Lowering its head, it shifted its gait into something smoother, closer to a gallop-though the legs along its length undulated like a caterpillar’s.
As the truck accelerated, so did the monster, keeping pace and always remaining a few car lengths behind. Evajean was twisted around in her seat, staring out the back, while Hope barked madly from under her seat. Elliot watched their pursuer in the rearview mirror, fiercely thankful that the highway was clear of abandoned vehicles.
The creature opened it’s mouth and, from within the ring of teeth, pushed out its pink and tubular tongue. Its color looked almost human. “Make it go faster,” Evajean said, her voice only just loud enough to be audible over the truck’s engine.
The beast surged forward and its tongue slapped the rear of the truck, which shook heavily on its stuff suspension, tossing Elliot and Evajean against their seat belts. The dog barked furiously from under the seat and tried to climb to the back window. Elliot pushed down harder with his foot, but the pedal was already on the floor.
The creature’s tongue hit them again and through the mirror Elliot saw a box tumble out of the bed. Again he cursed himself for not having a gun on hand, instead leaving them packed away with the rest of the supplies. The creature fell back several yards and coughed, its mouth forcing open even wider than it had been, rows of teeth and a second tongue reflecting the sun punching through the clouds.
“What is it?” Evajean shouted at him, but he ignored her.
She twisted in her seat, looking out the back. “I think we’re losing it,” she said.
Elliot nodded. Ahead, the highway curved to the left around a small lake and a grove of trees.
Was the creature too big to get through them?
he wondered. Could they hid in there, like they had with the warehouse? He had to decide quickly, for they were now only thirty seconds or so from the grove.
As the trees came near, however, the decision was made for him. Elliot had gone tight through the turn, pulling into the left lane and closer to the trees. At the apex of the curve, with the trees no more than twenty feet away, just on the other side of a line of concrete barriers, another of the creatures burst out from the vegetation. It kicked through the concrete, sending large chunks skittering under the feet of the first creature-which tripped and rolled on the pavement.
Elliot screamed along with Evajean this time, and jerked the truck to the right, away from this new threat. It strained against the turn, coming briefly up on two wheels, before crashing back down, almost knocking the wind out of him. He tensed his hands on the wheel, straining to keep the truck under control. Hope howled over Evajean.
The truck bounced and then steadied, and Elliot managed to force it back onto a path that would keep it on the road. Through the mirror he could see the first creature getting back to its feet-a movement that looked very much like a millepede uncurling-while the second stood over it, licking its grey skin with that enormous tongue.
“-going to fight,” Evajean was saying, but Elliot didn’t share her optimism. The licking did not look aggressive but comforting-and “I’m sorry for knocking you over” gesture.
He was right. The first creature, once righted, ran its tongue along the hide of its companion and then the two started again in the direction of the truck.
In front of Elliot and Evajean was only open road and a sign for a rest stop in a quarter of a mile.
“We’re going to do it again,” Elliot said, without turning to look at Evajean.
“What?”
“Get out, get inside. That rest stop, we’re going to drive to it and jump out and break a window if we have to, but we’re going to get inside. Because those things-”
“They’re too big to follow us,” she said.
The truck had topped out on speed. The vibrations from the overtaxed engine were terrible and this short conversation had the warble of talking into a fan. The creatures had regained most of the ground lost during their collision, and were now running side by side, tongues still out, reaching toward the truck.
He had no idea if this plan would work. With the crazies, it had been only a matter of outrunning them, of being able to get far enough away to lose them in the chaos of the industrial complex. But running here wasn’t an option. Their only hope was to get to a place where the creatures couldn’t reach them and then hope they got tired of the hunt and wandered off. No matter what they were, no matter how the beasts had got here, they were animals, and Elliot prayed they’d behave as such.
“What if we can’t get in?” Evajean said, shouting over the engine.
“We’ll break the door or a window.”
“What if we can’t?”
He didn’t want to listen to this, so he stopped paying her any attention, and focused on keeping the truck out of the reach of those tongues. He pulled the wheel to the right and the creatures took ran through several strides before adjusting.
They’re stupid,
he thought.
Maybe they won’t even know to follow us when we stop. Maybe they’ll just stay with the truck.