TORMENT (23 page)

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Authors: Jeremy Bishop

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Occult

BOOK: TORMENT
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27

 

 

Austin found the rear door of the convenience store wide open. It exited into a small employee parking lot surrounded by a now flattened chain link fence. Beyond that a grid of streets led into the distance. Ruins lined the streets for a mile before buildings far enough away from the blast still stood. Beyond that, the forest began again, rising up a steep grade that had kept developers away. But what stood out most about the view down the long straight street was the group of running people.

Nine of them.

Mia, Liz, Chang, Paul, Mark and Collins had a short lead. Three others, one
clothed,
two naked, an assortment of races, all screaming, gave chase.

“They’re not going to make it,” Garbarino said as he exited the store and saw the group up ahead.

In reply, Austin broke into a sprint.

But as fast as he ran, he could only watch as the three killers gained on the group slowed by age, gear and fatigue. The killers suffered from none of these things. In fact, the only thing that seemed to affect them at all was an overwhelming desire to not do what they were about to do.

C’mon
, Austin thought.
Do something!

Realizing the group—armed with handguns, an MP5 and two shotguns—might simply be too afraid to stand their ground and fight, Austin took aim and prepared to fire three rounds. He didn’t think any of the shots would find a target, but hoped the sound would remind the others that they weren’t defenseless.

“No!” Garbarino shouted, catching up to Austin. “Don’t fire!”

“Why not?”

Garbarino thrust his thumb over his shoulder. “
He
will hear you!”

Shit
. He was right. Using their weapons might temporarily stop the three killers, but the noise might also attract the monster that pulverized Dwight. And he wasn’t sure how many bullets it would take to stop him. He hoped to never see the giant again, not only because the term “killing machine” best described it, but also because he recognized it, or at least the tattoo on its chest. And that was one reality he couldn’t deal with yet.

Austin ran as fast as he could.

Garbarino ran faster.

Neither
were
fast enough.

 

 

 

Mia could hear the screams getting closer. There would be no outrunning them. Not while carrying their gear. Not while holding Elizabeth. “We need to fight them! But quietly! Don’t use your guns!” she shouted. When she remembered who she was talking to, it seemed a ridiculous thing. Chang was an out of shape young woman. Collins was an aging man with a heart problem. Mark was no spring chicken and as a priest had probably not been in a fight in a very long time, if ever.

And Paul, the only one of them with the experience they needed, was the oldest of them. He was also the bravest. “Keep going,” he shouted before stopping.

The move caught everyone off guard, including the killers. He managed to clothesline the first, who turned out to be an older woman. She flipped into the air, grasping at her ruined throat. The impact spun Paul around and sent a stab of pain up his arm.
The second killer, a naked man with long black hair and tan skin, leapt at him.
But Paul was ready and caught the man by the throat, using the killer’s momentum to lift him off the ground and pound him onto the pavement.

But there was nothing Paul could do to stop the third killer, a young woman with blood stains covering most of her white-skinned naked body. Arms outstretched, the woman dove at Paul’s back, screeching, “I don’t want to!” in a thick British accent.

The impact that followed was bone crushing, but Paul remained untouched.

Mark tackled the woman by the waist and the pair slammed into a telephone pole before falling to the pavement. The woman clawed at Mark while he rained down punches. “You can’t have him yet!” Mark screamed, sounding as mad as the woman beneath him.

With the first two killers writhing on the ground Paul stood and ran to Mark’s aid. Seeing the woman unconscious beneath Mark’s continued barrage, he took his brother by the waist and pulled him away.

“You can’t have him yet!” Mark kept shouting. “You can’t have him!”

“Mark,” Paul said, holding his brother tight, as he struggled to get back at the woman. “She’s down, Mark. She’s done.”

Mark began to relax.

“She’s done.”

As Paul loosened his grip, Mark leaned forward, breathing hard, tears streaking down his cheeks.

Austin and Garbarino arrived a moment later.

“Everyone okay?”
Austin asked.

Paul gave a nod and placed a hand on Mark’s back. “You okay?”

After a taking a deep breath, Mark stood upright. He was about to answer. Pain throbbed through his chest, face and fists—none of it life threatening. But the look of horror on Paul’s face had him asking, “What’s wrong?” instead.

Mark looked down at himself. His fists and body were covered in blood. He wiped at his face with his clean palm and it came away bloody. He turned to the naked woman, covered in a fresh coat of her own blood. The reality of what he’d just done set in. “Get it off,” he said. “Get it off! Get it off!”

Paul quickly found his water bottle and doused Mark’s face. “Hold still.”

Mark took off his outer shirt and threw it away. The white t-shirt beneath had a red ring around the collar, but was otherwise clean.

With much of the blood gone, Paul got his first look at Mark’s clean face. “You’re hurt,” he said.

Mark touched his face gently. The woman had clawed both his cheeks, leaving seven long gashes that had somehow already stopped bleeding. His hand flinched away from the wounds.

A roar sounded in the distance.

“We can look at it later,” Austin said.

Garbarino drew a long knife and stabbed each of the killers in the back of the neck. Their bodies twitched and then lay still. When he finished, he looked back at the others who stared at him in shock. “What?” he said. “It’s not like I’m killing them. I just wanted a head start.”

Mia picked up Liz. “Good idea,” she said.

Garbarino smiled. “Thanks.”

A second roar, this one louder, set them moving.

“We’ll stop in the woods,” Austin said, leading the way. “Don’t use your weapons unless there’s no alternative. We need to get as far from here as possible, as quietly as possible, before night falls.”

“Bad things happen when the sun goes down,” Liz said, as she looked over Mia’s shoulder.

“Not tonight,” Mia replied. She hated lying to Liz, but couldn’t bring herself to tell her niece turned daughter what she really thought. False hope was better than no hope.

As they exited the city and entered the woods on the other side from where they’d entered, Liz saw something rise up on the horizon of the long straight road that led to the forest. A line of dark specs bobbed up and down, like people walking.

As the dark forest swallowed them, Liz whispered, “Bad things.”

28

 

 

Mark pitched forward, clutching his side.

Paul caught him. “You okay?”

“Got a cramp,” Mark said with a grimace.

They had been moving quickly for nearly three hours. The woods had thinned into new growth—now dead—but the forest floor was mostly clear of debris, because the smaller branches had yet to fall. The bare branches above gave them a clear view of the sky, glowing from rapid-fire heat lightning. The open forest allowed them to move faster, but not everyone could sustain the pace set by Austin who drove them north like an unstoppable freight train.

“Hey boss,” Paul said to Austin, who was nearly forty feet ahead.

Austin turned and saw Paul standing next to Mark, who was still doubled over. Everyone else had stopped already, too.

“We need a rest,” Paul said.

Austin gave a thumbs up and began walking slowly back toward the others. His gut told him to keep moving, but he felt impressed with how well the group was holding up. As he walked past Garbarino, he said, “Keep watch south and east. I’ll watch north and west.” After Garbarino nodded, he took up a position at the group’s rear behind a granite boulder.

Mia sat with Liz and Chang, silently sharing pieces of what little remained of their food supplies. No one had taken any food from the convenience store, so they were left with the dwindling number of protein bars and water bottles in their packs. Mia rationed it as best she could, but exerting so much energy left their stomachs craving more.

After taking two bites and a drink of water, Liz, who had been walking for two hours, quickly fell asleep. Chang and Mia followed the girl’s lead, laying down in the crunchy leaf litter and closing their eyes.

After sitting Mark down, Paul began pacing. His nervous energy kept him moving. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time—the adrenaline of battle, the heightened awareness that comes with knowing death could arrive at any moment. In Vietnam he sometimes went days without sleeping. It seemed, even in his old age, his body hadn’t forgotten the lessons it learned during the war.

Collins emerged from behind a tree, zipping up his fly, and took a seat next to Mark. He took a protein bar from his pocket and
unwrapped
it. He broke off a chunk and offered it to Mark.
“Something to eat?”

Mark held up his hand. “No. Thanks, though.”

Collins took a large bite and slowly chewed the thick bar. It took three chugs of water to wash it down. “Ugh.
Disgusting.”

Mark kept his eyes on the ground below him, his side still clutched by the occasional cramp.

“So,” Collins said, “where’d you learn to fight like
that.

“She was a
woman
,” Mark said.

“She was certifiable,” Collins replied.
“Would have torn your brother apart if not for you.
But you took it to her. Boy, you took it to her.”

Mark shook his head.
“Wasn’t always a priest.”

Collins waited for more, but Mark stayed quiet. “That’s it? You weren’t always a priest?”

Mark looked at him
.“Drugs.
I sold drugs. Pot.
Coke.
Heroin.
I was young and stupid. Didn’t think about what I was doing to other people, the lives I helped destroy.”

“What turned you around?”

“You
ever done
drugs?” Mark asked.

“Smoked a lot of pot,” Collins replied. There was no reason to lie about it now.

“Nothing harder?”

Collins shook his head, no.

“Consider yourself lucky. Guy I sold some coke to took his first snort right then and there. Didn’t know how to do it and I wasn’t paying attention. He took too much, too fast.
Died at my feet.
I found forgiveness in the Church.
And rehabilitation.
Dedicated my life to the God that saved me.”

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