A strange new dripping sound reached him. He craned his neck to see the other way but he saw nothing there either and Xander and Donald blocked the other two directions. He felt like an idiot, trapped beneath the truck. "We have to get out of here," he whispered.
Xander nodded and held up his hand with three fingers raised. He put down one, then the other, and finally the last one. They crawled out on the other side together. John had just leaned against the truck when he heard that strange dripping sound again. Drawn by a figure emerging from the shadows, he turned his head to the left. He lifted his gun but the glint of Xander's knife made him realize that any noise would definitely be the death of them.
The sick person continued to come at them. It took John a moment to realize the dripping sound was coming from it. Blood plopped against the pavement from the three missing fingers on its right hand. Bile rose in John's throat as the rotten figure continued to lurch at them. Twisted at an unnatural angle, the sick person's right foot dragged on the ground behind them.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell what sex these people had once been as their features became even more rotted and disfigured. They have to die, he thought. No matter what this sickness had done to their bodies and mind, no matter how distant they were now from their original forms, they couldn't continue to go on like this for a lifetime. Unless it was only their outsides that were rotting while their insides somehow remained magically intact.
Before this he would have laughed at such an idea, now it might be highly possible. Even still, they had to bleed to death; he already knew that for a fact. They did die and when they did, they stayed that way. So rotting insides or not, some of them were getting slower and falling apart.
The sick human lurched at them, its mouth hanging open as it mistakenly assumed it would be able to get Donald. In its hurry to reach them, it tripped over its battered foot and sprawled before them. Blood continued to trail from its missing fingers as it clawed its way toward them. Donald leaned forward and rested his hand on the person's head. In one violent motion, he drove the knife through the person's ear into what was left of its brain.
John's hand flew to his mouth; he nearly lost the acidic contents of his stomach. He managed to swallow back his vomit as Donald ripped the knife away from its skull. The person's eyes rolled back in its head before it sprawled face first on the ground.
"We'll put it in the back of the truck." Xander crept forward to grab its legs.
John would have rather rolled through a sewage pipe than grab hold of the dead human's arm. The sewer pipe probably smelled better, he realized as his nose wrinkled at the aroma coming toward them. Even still, he grabbed hold of the arm of the hand missing the three fingers. The mushy flesh felt like chicken skin beneath his fingers but he didn't let go of it as he tugged the body forward. A part of him expected the skin to slide off in his hands but thankfully it stayed in place.
It took some maneuvering and more time touching the person than he wanted to spend, but eventually they were able to lift the person up and push it into the back of the truck. John wiped his hands on his jeans but he couldn't rid himself of the revolting feel of that thing from his skin. As soon as he could, he was going to boil some water and scrub the shit out of himself. He didn't care if he took off a couple of layers of skin in the process.
With the body hidden away, John turned his attention back to the open expanse before them. All that remained was the road. It appeared as vast to him now as the Sahara desert and just as barren. There weren't any scorpions hiding out there like there were in the Sahara but something even more deadly.
"We can get back under the truck," John whispered. He didn't particularly like the idea but right now he didn't see any other options. "We'll be able to see anything coming at us from the front and the tires are high enough that we should be able to see something coming from behind too. I don't think we're going to make it across the road without drawing attention to ourselves, and the others. If they come at us from the road we'll have enough time to get back to the truck and cars and get out of here. If they come at us from the other way…"
His voice trailed off, they all knew what would happen if they came at them from the other way. They'd be forced across the road, further away from the vehicles, and away from their friends.
"I don't think we have much of a choice. The body in the back of the truck should mask our smell too," Xander said.
John certainly hoped so. Moving backward, he crawled under the truck again with Xander and Donald. He settled in so that he was facing the three open spaces to the car. Xander faced forward while Donald faced the back. He didn't like not being able to see the road but he knew that the other two could. John twisted his head to look up at the sky once more. They couldn't have been granted the miracle of the stars again only to have it torn away from them by death.
Keeping hold of his weapons, John pressed his cheek against the pavement. He was trying to hold onto the promise of the stars as another loud crashed echoed through the night. The awful laughter followed it.
CHAPTER 8
Mary Ellen,
"Where are they?" Riley muttered as she paced anxiously by the plate glass window in the front of the building.
Mary Ellen watched the young girl from the corner of her eye, but she kept her gaze focused on their three new acquaintances, and Peter and Nancy. Shifting her stance, she held her gun before her as she nudged Rochelle behind her.
Jim, Claire, and Freddie acted friendly enough but their guns certainly weren't. She knew Peter was a ticking time bomb, one that might not go off on them right now, but he may very well go off on Jim and Claire. She really wasn't in the mood to end up in a fight or to have bullets flying at her.
And the others still weren't back. Her eyes darted to Riley as dread curled through her. The three of them were out there somewhere, but there had been no sign of them since they'd moved the vehicles into the parking lot across the street. They had heard those sick people out there, moving around, laughing as things were broken and screams echoed throughout the night.
Tears burned in Mary Ellen's eyes but she forcefully batted them back. Tears wouldn't do anyone any good right now and they didn't know that something had happened to them. There had been no gunshots, and there was no way that all of them had been taken without at least getting one shot off. They were too strong and smart for that. They'd been through too much to go down without a fight.
They were still out there, she was certain of it. It was just a matter of where.
Riley pulled the corner of the curtain back a little and peeked outside. "They have to come back," she whispered fervently. "They simply have to come back."
Al walked over and rested his hand on her arm. She glanced back at him before looking over at the main group still gathered by the counter. The cat jumped onto the counter and began to lick her back paw before wiping it against her ear. It must be nice to be that unaffected by what was going on, Mary Ellen thought.
Something crashed in the night, causing Mary Ellen to jump. She glanced at the wall behind her, but though things had changed in the world, it was still impossible for her to see through wood.
Carl walked over to the other side of the window. He stood on the opposite end of Riley and Al and pulled back a small piece of the curtain. "There!" Riley said excitedly and thrust her finger at the glass. "By that truck!"
Carl's shoulders slumped; Mary Ellen could feel the relief radiating from him as he leaned closer to the window. Carl had sent them out there, he'd told them to move those vehicles. Mary Ellen couldn't imagine what the weight of that must have been like as they waited for the three of them to come back.
"There's something moving toward them." Riley's hands fisted in the curtain as her nose nearly touched the glass.
Carl lifted his gun and pointed it at the window. "Wait! Don't," Jim said as he stepped away from the counter.
"One of those things is after them!" Riley hissed.
"Y
ou can't shoot through that window," Jim growled. "You'll bring them right to us."
"Our friends are in trouble." Riley shot a deadly look over her shoulder.
"My son is in here," Jim said.
Riley's eyes darted to the young boy cowering by the register in his mother's embrace. Sadness tugged at Mary Ellen's heart when Riley's lower lip began to tremble and she closed her mouth. Al kept his hand on Riley's arm as she turned to look at Carl. His face was strained with indecision but he lowered his weapon.
"I won't shoot unless I absolutely have to," Carl promised.
"Unless they come this way," Jim said.
"Unless they come this way," Carl agreed but Mary Ellen wasn't so sure she believed him. She didn't think he would be able to stop himself from helping the others if it became necessary. "Step away from the window Ri."
"No," she responded instantly.
"Riley…"
"I'm not… no," she choked out.
"Leave her be," Al said.
Mary Ellen couldn't take the tension anymore; she had to know what was happening out there. Grabbing hold of Rochelle's arm, she steered her daughter to the window. She nudged Rochelle to the side before moving to stand beside Carl. Her eyes narrowed as she searched the night, it took her a minute to spot the others leaning against a pickup with gigantic tires that were a little extravagant to her. She also spotted the sick person falling on the ground before them.
She turned away, unable to watch, as Donald leaned forward with his knife. Taking a few deep breaths, she steadied herself before looking back at the parking lot again. The three of them were working on getting the body into the back of the truck.
"They're not going to make it across that road," Riley murmured.
As the words left her mouth, the three guys slipped underneath the truck again. Mary Ellen wasn't sure what their intentions were until they remained beneath the vehicle. The tires that had seemed so extravagant before now provided a haven for them, how much of one she didn't know, but at least they had a place to hide.
"What do we do?" Riley asked.
"There's nothing we can do," Al responded. "They're safe right now and they have a decent spot to keep watch from."
"It might be better if you moved away from the window miss," Jim said. Riley glanced questioningly at him over her shoulder. "Like I said, sometimes they come at night. If they see you, you won't have to worry about your friends."
Mary Ellen didn't think Riley was going to listen to him but she took a deep breath and released the curtain. Riley didn't walk away from the window, but moved to lean against the wall beside the glass. Carl glanced at Mary Ellen before turning back to the room. Mary Ellen gave one final glance at the three huddled under the truck, if she hadn't known to look for them there, she never would have seen them. She prayed it stayed that way as she dropped the curtain into place.
"Do you just stay in this room?" Carl inquired of Jim.
"For the most part. There's a bathroom off the office through there." Jim pointed to the door behind the cash register. "We don't flush the toilet at night but they don't come around in the daytime. There's also a storage room around the back. It's mostly dead flowers now, the stench of them is overwhelming but it masks our odor in here, I think."
"I'm sure it helps," Carl agreed.
A small thud at the side of the building drew Mary Ellen's eyes to the wall behind her again as her heartbeat escalated to laborious levels. Jim grabbed his shotgun and stepped away from the counter. Claire pushed Freddie behind her; she lifted the rifle off the counter and held it against her chest. Another thud sounded but this one was a few feet away from the original.
"What is that?" Peter asked in a low hiss.
"It's them," Jim said. "I told you that they come sometimes. Something has them riled up; they're not normally as loud as they have been tonight."
"Is it our friends?" Riley asked nervously.
Jim shook his head. "No, I think your friends would be dead if it were."
Riley blanched but she must have taken some comfort in his words as she stepped away from the wall by the window. She glanced at Mary Ellen before moving closer to her.
"I'm pretty sure they don't know we're here, I think they'd come in if they did. Sometimes I swear they're just playing with us, toying with us until they decide it's their dinner time," Jim continued in a low murmur that made Mary Ellen think of tales told round the campfire.
Riley stayed by her side, they turned to follow the thumps moving across the side of the building. The banging echoed throughout the store as the sick people moved along the wood frame. Mary Ellen held her breath while she tried to ascertain how many of them there were out there. It was impossible to tell as one thump after another sounded from different locations. Stretching behind her, she took hold of Rochelle's hand. The thumping became a metallic clatter as someone banged against the back door and that eerie laugh drifted through the building. Rochelle shuddered behind her, she pressed closer when the knob began to rattle.
Carl nodded to Al before hurrying to stand beside the backdoor. Riley's jaw was set as she stalked forward. Mary Ellen pulled Rochelle away from the large plate glass window. If those things were going to get in, it would be through that window. She really hoped that Jim was right and that the odor of the dead flowers masked the aroma of fear and sweat she knew they were all emitting.
The grunts sounding outside made her think that the sick people were turning on each other. As she listened to them, Mary Ellen became more convinced that Riley's trapped ancient virus theory was true. Those people certainly sounded almost prehistoric as they moved around the building.
"They sound as if they have no reasoning left but they're smart and cunning," Al murmured.
"They know we're here," Nancy breathed.
Mary Ellen feared a pending meltdown as Nancy's gaze flew around the room and she rang her hands before her. The skin on Nancy's hands became so red that for a second Mary Ellen thought she'd already ripped her flesh off. Riley stepped closer to Nancy, took hold of her hands and gently pulled them apart. She bent closer to Nancy and spoke words that Mary Ellen couldn't hear. Nancy's eyes stopped rolling in her head and the flaring of her nostrils eased. Nancy's lower lip continued to tremble, tears slid down her cheeks, but she calmed further as Riley kept speaking with her.
Mary Ellen jumped and spun toward the wooden front door behind her as a loud knock sounded against it. Josh stepped away from the group gathered by the backdoor and moved closer to her as the front door rattled. His black eyes briefly met hers before the both of them focused on the front door again.
Mary Ellen's hands were beginning to sweat on the grip of her gun; she didn't dare adjust her hold to wipe her hands on her shirt in case someone broke in. Rochelle moved out from behind her and stepped closer to Al. Rochelle made a gesture with her hand toward Carl who studied her before pulling out another gun from his waistband.
Mary Ellen almost stepped forward and shook her head no. She didn't want her daughter handling the weapon, but she also didn't want Rochelle to become someone's meal. As much as everything inside of her was against her daughter's hand wrapping around the butt of that gun, she bit her tongue. She would hate herself more if something happened to Rochelle because she didn't have the weapon.
"Aim for their chest," Carl whispered. "And don't you pull the trigger unless you absolutely have to."
"I know," Rochelle whispered back.
Carl studied her for a second longer before glancing at Mary Ellen. She gave him a brief nod of her head before focusing her attention on the front door again. The banging against it had stopped but she couldn't shake the feeling that they were standing out there laughing at them inside. If something came through that door, she and Josh would be in the perfect position to stop the first wave. She would do everything she could to make sure that Rochelle didn't have to pull the trigger.
A sound like glass shattering filtered in from outside. Carl and Al both winced but Mary E
llen couldn't tell if it had come from one of the vehicles across the street, or a nearby building. Please, let the others still be safe, she pleaded silently as she tried not to let her anxiety for them swamp her.
Riley glanced toward the front window, and then at Mary Ellen. Mary Ellen could only shrug her shoulders in response to Riley's unspoken question of where the noise had come from. Riley didn't move for a minute, a muscle in her cheek jumped, but finally she turned her attention back to Nancy and returned to comforting the crying woman.
Mary Ellen froze, a chill slid down her spine as something scratched across the front window. She was gripped with the certainty that Jim was right, that those people out there were just playing with them until they were ready to pounce and devour them. She could almost believe a tree branch was tapping against the glass, but she knew better. That hideous laughter drifted through the building, the scraping of their fingernails continued across the front window.
It took everything she had not to start screaming as her stress level built to nearly epic levels. She waited breathlessly for the window to explode and people to launch themselves into the store. Her eyes shot nervously to Peter when he began to shift from foot to foot. His eyes bounced around the store, the muscles in his forearms and biceps bulged as his hands twisted on his gun.
Not now, she prayed. He can't melt down now. She found herself unable to move as she waited for him to start firing at the front window. Carl shook his head and grabbed hold of Peter's arm when he lifted the gun. "They don't know we're here," Carl hissed.
"You can't know that," Peter snarled.
"They'd be in here if they did. They're like animals now, smart and lethal, but they don't hesitate when it comes to their food. They don't deny themselves. Firing that weapon will only bring them in here. Stay quiet."
Peter looked about to argue with him further but footsteps running across the roof caused all of their heads to tip back. The image of children laughing as they scurried into the woods in search of some kind of mischief filled her mind as those things raced across the roof. There were at least three of them up there. They weren't laughing but the sound of it echoed in her head.