Read Hissers II: Death March Online

Authors: Ryan C. Thomas

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Dystopian, #Post-Apocalyptic, #Teen & Young Adult

Hissers II: Death March (12 page)

BOOK: Hissers II: Death March
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“Reaching in blind wasn’t
my first intention,” Dean had replied. He had grabbed his little girl and maneuvered her away from the several piles of debris that might be housing the unknown. “So much for getting some food. Unless you want candy.”

“Not really.”

After a good hour of searching, Dean managed to find CB radio that wasn’t’ smashed. The other ones on the ground were in pieces, as if it had been deliberate. “I think I can hook this up. C’mon, let’s go give it a try.”

Now they sat in the Jetta, Dean and his girl in the back, Connor and Olive up front.

Connor slowly turned the signal knob, and Olive spoke slowly into the handset. “Hello? Hello can anyone hear me?”

Connor looked over the manual that had come with the CB, wondering if any of the 10- codes would help any. Probably not, he figured. Still, you never knew. “Try 10-34. It means ‘send help.’”

Olive glared at him. “I think we can dispense with protocol. If anyone is even out there to hear us they’re not responding anyway.”

“Wh
at’re the range on these things?” Dean asked.

Connor read over the box. “It says two to ten miles, depending on terrain.”

“Hello,” Olive repeated. “Anyone? We’re looking for information from anyone coming east out of Arizona or California. Hello?”

Her pleas were met with static. Connor continued to mess with the dials but as the sun dropped below the horizon, the situation did not change. Finally, Olive put the handset down and huffed. “Fuck it. There’s no one out there on a CB.”

“She said a bad word, Daddy.” Dean’s little girl had mostly been silent to this point, outside of a few pips about being hungry.

“I know, sweetie,” he replied. “She’s an adult. She can do that.”

“Sorry,” Olive said. “I don’t normally swear in front of kids, but this ain’t normal, you know.”

“It’s okay. Well, it was worth a shot anyway. With the CB
, I mean.”

Connor put the manual
down. “Could just be no one is around. We might as well leave it on and see if anyone talks on it.”

“Better than nothing,” Dean said. “I’m gonna take Tamara here out to pee. Be right back.” He exited the car, his little girl holding his hand behind him, and disappeared into the nearby trees
around the parking lot.

“What now?” Connor asked.

Olive pushed her hair back. “Now, we can either keep heading west in the dark, or get some sleep here, or keep messing with the CB. What do you want to do?”

“Play some Call of Duty. But I guess we should find a place
inside to sleep. It’s dark now.” He didn’t need to say more. He and Olive had an agreement they wouldn’t travel at night any more for fear of attracting hissers with the car and headlights.

Dean returned to the car and slid back inside with Tamara beside him. She continued to hug her doll and remain mo
stly quiet. “You two need to go?” he asked. “I’ll watch the car.”

“I’m good,” Olive said.

“I gotta go,” Connor admitted, and got out of the car. His gun was tucked into his waistband, ready for action if he needed it. He smiled at Olive and sauntered off toward a trash dumpster near the diner. He pulled his gun out and put it on the trash bin, unzipped his pants and urinated onto an oil stain.  “God that feels good.”

That was when he saw the lone hisser making its way across the parking lot. It seemed oblivious of the car full of people off to its left. It moved in a zig zag, like a sidewinder snake, probably owing the fact its legs were actually three arms that seemed to want to move in different directions. Connor ducked down
behind the dumpster and pulled his gun, clicked the safety off. He leaned out around the side and watched the undead thing continue to skitter around the parking lot. He prayed Olive saw it coming, hoped she would duck down in the car. There were no lights on in the Jetta, which was good, and though he could see their silhouettes in the rearview window, they didn’t seem to be moving. “Please see it. Please just stay still.”

The hisser drew closer, heading for the side of the building. The car was a good fifty yards behind it now. It seemed intent on coming for the dumpster. “Shit.”

Gotta go around the building, Connor thought, even if it puts me out of sight of Olive and Dean for a minute.

It was the best plan he could think of. Shooting the monster would only attract attention. And even though the back of the diner looked dark, flanked as it was by a copse of trees and a
split-rail fence, it was the safest bet. Reluctantly, he tiptoed backwards as the hisser drew closer. It was an older man, its mouth smeared in thick blood. The fingers that carried it forward on its make-shift legs twitched like the tentacles of a sea anemone.

He reached the corner of the diner and slipped behind it. Another dumpster greeted him here, along with the housing for a central air system. Rounding this, he passed by a small loading dock and some doors which probably led to the kitchen. Midway down he realized it was so dar
k he couldn’t see his feet. But thankfully this passed as he continued on and finally reached the other end. He slipped around the corner and saw the Jetta straight across the parking lot from him. He snuck to the front of the building and peered out, saw the hisser sniffing around the dumpster he’d abandoned.

Just keep going, you ugly bastard, he thought.
Go off into the woods or something.

There came the sound of a girl crying. Connor looked at the car, saw Dean’s shadow putting a hand to Tamara’s mouth.
The girl had noticed he monster.

“No,” Connor whispered. But it wa
s too late. The hisser turned from the dumpster and bolted at the car. “Shit!”

Olive was out of the car in a fla
sh, rifle over the roof, aiming at the awkwardly running monster. Dean was out now as well. Both of them were firing. The hisser came at them fast, swiveling on its arm/legs. A series of bullets slammed into its chest but didn’t slow it down. Connor waited until its back was to him, then stepped out and fired. The hisser’s head completely exploded.

“Got him” Olive said.

“Me too,” Dean replied.

“Thought I did,” Connor said, approaching them. “Guess we all did.”

In the back seat, Tamara was still crying. Dean leaned in and pulled her out, hugged her close. “It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s gone.”

“What happened?
” Connor asked.

Olive motioned to the little girl. “She saw it out the back window. Nearly got us killed.”

“She’s a little girl,” Dean said, none too happy with Olive’s abrasiveness.

“Yeah, I get it. I’m just saying.”

“Well we can’t stay here now,” Connor said. “All those shots are bound to attract attention.”

Dean put Tamara down and put his gun back in his belt. “It was alone. We should be fine. I mean, I don’t see any more.”

“I do,” said Olive.

Connor and Dean followed her gaze. They were coming from the highway, running up the access ramp toward the diner. At least twenty of them.

“Time to go!” Olive said, already climbing in the car. “Connor! Move it!”

“The CB?” Dean said.

“What about it,” Olive replied.

“I need it.”

“So get in!”

“No. I’m taking my car. I’m going east. Give me the CB.”

“What? Why!”

“Because I need it. I have a daughter.
You gonna leave me without communication while I have a little girl with me?”

Connor watched the pack of hissers getting closer. They were halfway to the diner
now. Screw this, he thought, and reached in the car and pulled out the CB. “Here,” he said, handing it to Dean.

Dean grabbed the magnetic antenna off the car’s hood and ushered his daughter back to their
own vehicle. He threw her in then started it up, rolled down the window and waved. “Thanks, kid. Drive safe, guys!”

He sped out of the parking lot and headed toward the on ramp to the highway.

Connor got in the car as Olive threw it in gear and headed out herself. His gun felt hot in his hand. “Stop!” he shouted. “Look!”

He watched Olive’s eyes go wide as she saw the second pack of hissers heading down the on ramp. Now both ramps were blocked by the hissers.

“Doesn’t Dean see them?’ she asked. Up ahead, Dean’s car veered straight for the oncoming pack of undead.

“What’s he doing,” Connor said. “He can’t plow through all of that? Can he?”

“Looks like he’s gonna try.”

Dean’s truck hit the wall of hissers
with an audible wet smack. Arms and legs flew off in various directions. The creatures that didn’t go down climbed onto the truck and started beating on the roof. The truck ground to a halt, break lights blaring red in the night, a cloud of dust rising up from the tires.

“He’s stuck!” Connor said.

Olive shifted gears. “Hang on.” She sped up the on ramp, gunning for the truck. Connor powered down his window and stuck his gun out, fired off a handful of rounds. One hisser standing in the truck bed fell to the ground and went still. Bullseye, he thought. But it wasn’t enough. An obese undead woman smashed the back window of the truck, reached in and pulled Tamara out. The little girl went down under the monster. Instantly, Dean was out of the truck, firing his weapon at the fat woman.

The Jetta rammed
the truck in the back bumper, throwing the vehicle forwards. The hissers climbing on it fell to the ground.

“Get in!” Olive yelled through the window. “Hurry!”

Dean shot another one in the head, trying to get to his daughter. “No! Tamara!”

“Get in now! Dean!”

Dean was shaking his head, firing wildly.

Connor
squeezed off another two shots, hit his marks, then turned around and saw the first group of hissers getting closer now. In seconds they’d be overwhelmed. The sickening realization that they couldn’t rescue Dean and Tamara overcame him, and he wanted to  go mad. “Olive. We have to go.”

“Dean, get in!” she yelled.

“No!” he answered. The hissers on the ground were getting up. Finally, Dean got off a clear shot at the obese woman on top of his daughter and put her down. He reached into the truck bed, picked up a little girl’s hand, severed at the wrist, and dropped it back down. “No no no no!”

“Dean, get in the car!” Olive was revving the engine.

With tears in his eyes, Dean looked right at Connor and Olive and mouthed the word no once more. Then he put his gun to his head and pulled the trigger. Connor winced as the man’s head blew out and his body fell to the ground in a heap.

“Godammit,” Olive said,
reversing. She threw it back into first, then swerved around the hissers converging on Dean’s lifeless body. The car hit the road with a jolt and spun out. She threw it into second, then third, fourth and fifth. Minutes passed in silence, neither Connor nor Olive looking at anything but the black sky, until their heart rates resumed normal beats.

Olive wiped a tear from her eye. “Poor little girl. Probably better this way.
Who wants to grow up in this shit.”

Connor was
focused on the orange moon. “It was fast. I mean, it looked fast.”

“At least Dean won’t turn. Small blessing, I guess.”

The road hummed beneath them, warm summer night air steaming through the air vents. Connor could see blood stains on the car’s hood as it caught the moonlight. “Don’t know why he didn’t just stay with us.”

“He wanted to get his girl to her mom.” Olive looked over at him. “I can sympathize with that.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Ah shit.”

“What?”

Olive huffed. “We shouldn’t have given him the CB. What a waste.”

 

 

FRIDAY 6:37 PM

 

“Thank you,” Amanita said, wiping the last of the barbeque sauce from her mouth. “That was amazing.” The brisket had been delectable and she’d scarfed it down like a starving dog in an Alpo factory.

Throughout the dinner Kelly and the other kids had asked her numerous questions about her home town of Castor, and what she’d seen and experienced, until Harold finally hushed them. In a way she almost felt bad for them; they seemed to be under some kind of parental spell that involved doing menial jobs around the house. The boys, Luke and John, had built a fire in the fireplace while the girls had set the table.  Harold had asked them each a few times if they’d finished their studies, which Amanita thought was a bit odd, considering there were likely no schools open anywhere right now. Of course the answer was their familiar affirmative nod.

Now, setting down his fork, Harold folded his hands over his plate and looked at each one of his children. “Everybody full?”

Yes, they replied in unison.

“Good. Is everyone ready for tonight’s story?”

Yes, they replied in unison again.

“Good. As soon as we do the dishes we can begin, Amanita, would you like to sit with us for story time?”

BOOK: Hissers II: Death March
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