This is a work of fiction. All of the
characters, organizations, and events
portrayed in this novel are either
products of the author’s imagination
or are used fictitiously.
The Horror Squad. Copyright ©
2016 by TJ Weeks. All rights
reserved. Printed in the United States
of America. For information, email
[email protected]
I’d like to take the time to thank
Karen Dziegiel for all of her hard
work going through each of my
books. My wife for all her editing and
support. Chelley Jordan and Bobbi
Payton for so awesomely helping with
running my pages. I’d like to thank all
of my military buddies for staying by
my side with their support.
Most of all, I’d like to thank all of
my fans for pushing my work out
there. If it wasn’t for you none of my
books would have been put on the
best sellers list on Amazon and I
wouldn’t be up for as many awards as
I get put in for.
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The blurriness took over his sight.
Steven ran his arm across his face
trying to gain better sight, but his
sight was still blurry. He could not see
where he was going; he stuck his
hands out in front of him and began
walking. Steven noticed quickly that
it was painful to move one of his arms
and one of his legs. He limped a bit as
he walked even though he could not
see. He ran into something, side
stepped it and continued walking.
He could feel hunger coming on
and really needed something to eat,
but he wasn’t craving anything that
was in his room. He was craving what
he smelled, which was a live human.
Steven walked to the small mirror that
he remembered he had found and
hung in his classroom.
Again a different reflection
mirrored back at him as it had before
during the dream of his birthday. His
moustache was still gray and his hair
was partly slicked back, the other part
hung in his face. He tried to lift his
arm to make himself look presentable,
but could not control his extremities.
Steven quickly gave up after a few
tries. He walked to the door and in his
mind, he was trying to reach out to
grab the door knob but the back of his
hand slammed against it. He was
unable to grasp anything. He could
not control himself to do what he
wanted.
Steven backed away from the door
and peered down at himself to see that
he had lost control of his bladder and
it had ran down his pants leg and had
stained his jeans like it had been there
for months. Steven’s button down
shirt laid open and exposed his
concaved chest and showed two ribs
poking through. Blood had streamed
down and mixed in with the urine to
make it brownish orange in color. He
stared at his hand trying to will it to
work and noticed that his fingers had
all been pushed sideways and laid on
the side of his hand which he thought
explained why he was unable to
function to open a door or fix his hair.
Steven walked forward again and
ran into the door hoping that someone
would hear the noise he was making
and help him. How they were going to
help, he was not sure, but he needed
help with something.
He fell backwards after hitting the
door with his body and landed on his
ass and rolled. As he gained his
balance, apparently he had lost
control of his bowel movements as
well, because it had squished out of
his wrangler jeans and was all over
the floor. He was able to feel the
wetness on the back of his pants and
tried to reach behind him to wipe with
his hand so that he would not be
embarrassed when someone found
him.
Steven tried to open his mouth to
yell for someone to help and all that
came out was a groan that scared him.
He jumped back at his own noise.
Steven limped back to the mirror
and his face swayed back and forth in
front of it as he tried to keep his
balance. He had started turning the
dirty color of a rotter. It was then that
he noticed the ribs that stuck out were
not causing him much pain and his
hand had gone numb as well. He was
able to move the nub that was on the
other side of his body, but only in a
circle motion and it was exposed and
out of the sling.
His groans got a bit louder and he
was unable to control the clanking of
his jaw ringing throughout his ears.
Now he hoped that no one came
into his room. Would he eat them,
would he be able to contain himself
and not take charge on his friends and
make them rotters as well?
The door to his classroom flew
open and Gizmo and TJ appeared in
the doorway. Steven stared at them
and limped towards them.
“Are you fucking kidding me?
You’re a rotter?” TJ questioned out
loud.
Steven groaned trying to get them
to close the door and leave, but they
decided to enter his room. The two
laughed at Steven’s ribs poking
through his chest and the urine and
feces covering his bottom half. Steven
walked towards them and Gizmo
placed a hand on his forehead and
pushed back hard to make him fall.
“How the fuck did you become
rotter stupid ass?” TJ asked, as if he
was going to answer.
Steven fell and a pop sounded
throughout the room. His ankle had
buckled under him and the bone was
now showing through his skin as he
pulled it out from under him to try
and stand but failed.
“Hell, don’t try and get up, we will
have to take you out.” TJ stated to
Steven stuck on the floor as a rotter.
Steven closed his eyes as he had
before and tried to make himself wake
up. He opened his eyes to Gizmo and
TJ standing over him.
“Well, I hate to kill the asshole, we
served together and have been friends
for years, but if he was stupid enough
to get turned to a rotter then so be it
right?” TJ questioned out loud.
Steven waved his arms at the two,
hoping that they would realize that he
really wasn’t a rotter.
Steven was unable to control
himself and began biting the air each
time they got close. TJ and Gizmo
laughed at his moustache bouncing up
and down as he bit the air like a dog
trying to catch a fly. They would step
forward and then back just to watch
him chomp down onto nothing.
Each chomp of the air he took;
pieces of teeth would fall onto the
floor. Steven tried to stop the urge to
eat them, but it was inevitable. The
banter went on for a good while
before TJ and Gizmo got tired of
watching his teeth fall to the floor.
They soon started pulling at his
moustache each time he leaned
forward and laughed because Steven
would pull back and shake his head
with each piece that was left in their
hands.
“I don’t see any bite marks. How in
the hell did he turn?” TJ wondered
aloud.
“Shit I don’t know, but this is kind
of entertaining.” Gizmo laughed
rolling him back over with his foot.
“Ewwww, look at his ribs, they are
poking out and pieces of skin are
falling off now.”
Steven finally managed to back
himself against a wall and was
becoming angry at their playfulness
with him. He stabled his feet to stand
the best he could and began his
clumsy swayed walk towards them.
The two rounded the teacher’s desk
that was at the front of the room that
had been left and separated
themselves from their friend. Gizmo
grabbed a wooden pointer stick that
was on the lip of the dry erase board
behind them and began poking at
Steven. He poked him on the shoulder
with it which made Steven stumble
backwards. He poked him in the chest
and Steven stumbled another few
steps back.
Steven was getting agitated and
could feel his stomach sinking further
into his body needing food. He did
not want to eat his friends, but at this
point, with their smart ass attitudes of
not giving a shit, he was ready to take
them on. Steven limped around to try
and get to the side of the desk that
they were on and TJ and Gizmo
would move each time to the opposite
side. Steven reached his hands across
the desk to try and grab one of them
to pull them in and they both took a
step back. Steven fell over the desk
and face first onto the hard floor.
Another loud pop sounded through
the room. Gizmo and TJ stood for a
moment to see what would be next
and watched Steven roll and then
eventually stand. His neck was now
bent over and part of his collar bone
stuck out of the skin that had become
thin with his rotter transformation.
His head laid almost fully over onto
his shoulder. Steven was unable to
feel anything but a bit of pressure
from all of the protruding bones and
went on about his goal to eat the
assholes that were giving him such
hell at this point.
With his neck cocked and his ankle
broken, rib bones protruding out of
his chest and his growls that he was
unable to control, he lunged at them at
what he thought was fast but was
really slow enough that TJ and Gizmo
were able to take a few steps back
without any worries. They stepped
outside of the door and into the
hallway and let Steven follow. He
growled again and leaned forward in
hopes to get just a piece of one of
them. His body hit the floor again as
he tripped over his deformed feet and
landed on his stomach.
“Long story, but stay back, he is
full blown now.” TJ put his arm up to
his wife.
Steven pulled his head halfway off
the floor and dropped it back down. A
bit of slime splattered as his forehead
hit. He raised it again and pushed
himself up to stand this time.
“Man, it’s Steven, he didn’t get bit
or anything, he couldn’t have just
turned without getting into it with
one.” TJ explained.
Steven walked his rotter walk
toward them and each time he would
get within arm’s reach of any of them,
Gizmo or TJ would push him
backwards and he would start from
square one trying to catch a meal.
Steven’s groans became louder and
drew out some of the group from their
rooms with the echoes through the
hall.
“We didn’t do shit, we heard noises
and came in and found him like this.”
Gizmo explained.
Tina walked up behind her husband
and watched them taunting him with
their presence.
Gizmo and TJ both shrugged and
continued pushing him backwards
each time he would get close enough
to touch one of them. Steven’s jaw
began to dislocate from the side of his
face with each chomping motion he
made at them, the sound of his own
skin tearing, pierced his ears and his
jaw dropped with only a thread of
skin holding it to his face. His face
still made the motion of the up and
down chomping, but with only a few
teeth showing. His skin was now a
pale brown and the blood dripped
from his exposed bones. The smell
was intense as it sauntered down the
hallway from his release of urine and
feces that covered his lower half.