<%@LANGUAGE="JAVASCRIPT" CODEPAGE="1252"%> Horror Fiction by Simon

 




Intersection

by Michael Simon

a Purgatory's Pet's Contest Honorable Mention

Day 12

“There is no safe place!” I spat, unaware that the girl had started crying. “They’re everywhere, ripping people apart…”

I caught the glint of tears and my mouth snapped shut. Frustrated, I aimed a kick at some Barbie dolls on the floor.

“Quiet!” Weasel hissed. “You’re going to draw their attention.” His lazy eye began to twitch nervously. To prove the point, he stretched his neck over the shelf of lego boxes and silently surveyed the street. After a minute, he sank back and shook his head.

“They’re just standing there, admiring their handiwork.”

I glanced at Jamie. The former artist seemed to have garnered a second wind and was drying the tears with the back of a dirty sleeve.

Weasel looked over. “What now?” With his grimy features, black rimmed glasses and adolescent peach fuzz, he reminded me of Mickey Mouse.

“We wait,” I said. “They’ll get bored soon enough.”

“But we’re late already,” the diminutive Jamie murmured. “Mac will be worried.”

I smirked. Mac always sweated the small stuff.

“We wait,” I repeated. In my group, nothing else needed to be said.

#

Weasel traced a path through the desolation that, in a previous life, existed as an intercity thoroughfare. Covering the roadway and surrounding green-space was a literal carpet of smashed vehicles and rotting corpses. Pieces of twisted metal framed a patchwork of destroyed buildings and columns of paper swirled in the evening breeze. All around us, the smell of decay hung in the air like an omniscient poison.

It was barely a fortnight ago that our familiar yellow sun suddenly disappeared, replaced by a sick green star that bathed the planet in perpetual twilight. Under a painted sky and sanguineous clouds, we quickly learned to adapt to a life of shadow and slaughter.

Weasel was aptly suited to run point. Small and wiry, he moved through the chaos like a rodent, silently, without leaving a trail. He chose the nickname himself, before anyone decided on the label ‘rat’. Not bad thinking for a tenth grade computer nerd.

#

“Where the hell have you guys been? Mac demanded the moment I slipped into our secret alcove in the basement.

I fell into the nearest seat before glancing up at the big guy. At six-five and over three-hundred pounds, you’d never guess he used to terrorize opposing quarterbacks by the way he fretted over the smallest detail. He worried more than my mother used to worry, back when I had a mother.

“Three of them appeared outside the store,” I explained. “We had to wait.”

“Oh.” Mac stopped pacing. “Was anyone…?”

I shook my head. “They cornered a pack of dogs and tore…” I hesitated, stealing a glance at Jamie. “They killed them.”

“Bastards,” he muttered, chewing on a fingernail.

“Any food?”

Weasel dropped two cans of beans on the table. “Not much. This area’s been picked clean.”

Everyone looked at me.

I sighed. They always left me the hard choices.

“Alright,” I decided. “Pack up. We move in the morning.”

#

That night we heard only a few, scattered screams. Still, no one slept well and we all had the dreams.

Around midnight, Jamie slid her sleeping bag next to mine.

“Are we going to make it, Connor?” she asked.

I felt her tiny frame tremble. A month ago, in high school, I was a stuttering fool around the opposite sex. Now I didn’t hesitate to wrap a comforting arm around her.

“We’ve come this far.”

“They’ve killed billions…” Her voice broke. “This city is a wasteland. The entire world lies in ruins…” She swallowed. “From the beginning they were wraith-like, almost translucent …”

A shiver crept up my spine. On the first day, the innocuous visions that resembled ghostly images on a fuzzy TV screen appeared on the streets and just watched us. On the second day, without warning, they tore into the flesh of humanity. As we quickly learned, they could materialize anywhere, at anytime.

Mankind never stood a chance.

“I remember,” I soothed, pushing a stray lock under her cap.

“Except for the pale skin and black eyes, they resembled normal people,” she continued.

And each one had already lived and died.

I took a deep breath. “They were known murderers, rapists, and criminals… As ghouls, they found a way back…”

The military was unprepared to battle the dead. Within days, the great cities burned and our civilization collapsed.

The attacks continued. We could only guess at how many perished. I figured there weren’t enough people left to do the counting anyway.

#

Day 34

Weasel stopped behind the last remaining wall of the Sears building. The outlet had burned to the ground days ago, leaving its sign hanging like a tombstone over a grave. In the morning breeze, small tendrils of smoke still oozed skyward.

“All quiet?” I asked.

“Thought I heard something by the school,” Weasel said. “But it’s gone now.”

Mac slid off one of the knapsacks and passed around some water. Carrying two-hundred pounds in each arm, the big guy was a regular pack mule.

“I saw a steeple down that street,” I said, gesturing south.

Three concerned glares instantly met mine.

“You remember what happened the last time survivors retreated to consecrated ground?” Mac asked.

“Yeah,” Weasel nodded. “The ghouls set fire to the building and waited for the poor bastards to flee. Then they slaughtered every man, women and child.”

“Connor’s hidden us there before,” Jamie reminded them. “He knows what he’s doing.”

“They still can’t step foot on hallowed ground,” I pointed out. “If the ghouls don’t see us, it’s safe overnight.”

Weasel glanced at Mac before offering a resigned shrug. “You’re the man, Connor. Just don’t get us killed.”

#

Day 53

As the weeks past, my small knot of survivors slowly swelled into a larger band. I fed them and hid them as best I could but it wasn’t easy, not with ghouls on the prowl.

“I don’t know why they’re sticking with us,” I protested to Jamie late one night. “They survived this long by staying solo. Why change now?”

Even in the dim light of the candle, I recognized her incredulous look.

“You know, for all you’ve accomplished, you’re still unbelievably dense.”

“What…?”

“You’re a survivor,” she brushed my words aside. “Just like in war where certain individuals ‘accidentally’ find out they’re good at killing, you’ve got a knack for staying alive. Mac, Weasel and I noticed it the first time we stumbled into each other. The kids see it too and that’s why they’re not leaving.”

I tried to protest but she just smirked and the words died in my throat.

“Get some sleep,” she said. “Tomorrow is another day in Paradise.”

#

Day 65

Sheila was our latest acquisition. The sixteen-year-old had been subsisting on crackers and rainwater when we found her. A ghoul had materialized in her living room and hacked her family to death. She survived by emptying her father’s handgun into the demon.

She had gotten lucky. Sometimes it was bullets that worked, another time a bible, sometimes nothing at all. Jamie had survived the massacre at city hall by waving a cross. In the end, the military simply mimicked what civilians had learned early on, the best defense was to run.

#

Day 80

We holed up in the storeroom of a local strip mall for a few days.

“I saw you checking the craft stores earlier, Jamie,” I said. “Find anything?”

From her seat atop some boxes, the blonde gave a disinterested shrug. “I thought I’d try a little painting. Unfortunately all the supplies have dried up.”

“Just like the food.” Weasel snorted.

Mac frowned. “The kids are surviving on one meal a day already…”

Weasel’s grin was cold. “Connor may be able to avoid the ghouls but even he can’t work miracles.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I deadpanned. “If things get bad, we can always roast a Weasel.”

Everyone laughed.

“You know,” he caught my eye. “The sun didn’t just disappear.”

I stopped chuckling. “What are you talking about? We all saw it.”

He shook his head. “I checked NASA’s website before the internet went down. In super-slow motion, you can see… a gradual eclipse.”

“Bullshit!” Mac snapped. “I heard nothing…”

“He’s right,” Jamie interjected. “I saw the pictures. It was weird.”

A period of silence ensued.

“So what the hell does that mean?” I asked.

#

Day 92

“There’s something out there!” Weasel hissed defiantly at Mac. “I heard it.”

The ex-defensive lineman shook his head. “I checked. The road is clear.”

“Then you need glasses…!”

“Quiet!” I snapped. “It’s not like we have a choice.”

Jamie, sitting by my side, nodded. “The ghouls have been combing through the wreckage all week.”

A form momentarily appeared in the doorway before dropping to the floor.

“They’re coming…” Sheila gasped. “Maybe five minutes…”

I swore. The ghouls had changed tactics and were beating the bushes for any sign of life. How was I supposed to hide twenty-five terrified kids?

“We move,” I ordered. “Weasel, take point…”

“Why are they suddenly doing this?” Jamie asked. “Something’s changed…”

“She’s right,” Weasel’s eye began to twitch. “What’s going on?”

“How do I know?” I blurted. “Maybe they ran out of things to kill. It makes no difference; we still have to keep moving. They can’t chase us forever.”

Nobody met my gaze. They all knew different.

#

Twenty-five desperate survivors, perhaps the last from a city of two-hundred-thousand, ran, twisted and crawled through a destroyed metropolis.

A breathless Mac grabbed my arm. “Connor, they’re right behind us!”

I bit back an expletive and thought furiously.

“There was some kind of steeple over that hill!” I pointed down the main thoroughfare. “Tell Weasel!”

“Got it.” Mac took off at a sprint.

I turned to Jamie. “Gather them up and let’s go!”

En mass, we dashed for the only place of refuge my tired brain could think of.

The first ghoul spied us just as the church came into view.

“Run!” I shouted.

The kids scattered as Jamie flashed her cross at two apparitions. One exploded in a gray flash and the other hesitated long enough for the kids to get by.

The remaining ghouls pursued us until we stumbled through the archway of the burned out church. The scorched sign read ‘Liberty Baptist’.

“Mind your step,” Mac warned. “The floorboards are charred…”

I huddled with Weasel and Mac in the main foyer. The ghouls, fading in and out, stopped short of the building.

“We can’t stay,” Weasel hissed.

“I know!” I snapped.

Jamie abruptly appeared. “Everyone’s hiding in what’s left of the vestibule. There’s an open field out back but …” Her voice trailed off ominously.

I felt time drifting away and, with it, opportunity.

“Jamie, Mac, you’re with me. We’ll make a break and draw the ghouls off. Weasel, you haul ass with the kids back to the mall. I figure the storerooms are still safe.”

Beneath his spectacles, Weasel looked shocked. “What about you? There could be hundreds out there!”

“It’s our only choice. We’ll find a way…”

But Weasel was already shaking his head. “No way, Connor. I’ve survived this long by sticking with you. I’m not leaving.”

There wasn’t time to argue. I glanced at Mac.

The linebacker hit him with one massive fist and Weasel dropped like a stone.

I grimaced and looked at Sheila standing in the archway. “Wake him when we’re gone.”

She nodded silently.

We left the charred ruins of the church, and immediately shifted west when the ghouls spotted us.

“Stay tight!”

We sped through a series of narrow side streets, the route partially blocked with fallen brick and mortar. Jamie almost tripped over something mushy but Mac’s big hand kept her upright.

“On the left…” he warned.

I turned right, cut through a demolished bungalow and hurdled a three-foot wire fence.

Hesitating just long enough to help Jamie across, I quickly scanned our surroundings. We were in some sort of junkyard. Rusted car skeletons and piles of garbage emptied into a wide, mud encrusted driveway.

“It’s a dead end!”

“This way…”

I stopped as six ghouls suddenly appeared not ten feet in front of us. We fell over each other trying to scramble back.

“On me,” I whispered as they slowly encircled us.

“Connor…” Mac’s voice bordered on panic. Jamie’s face was a white sheet.

“Go ahead, Jamie.” My tone was deceptively calm. And yet I sensed something emanating from beneath those evil, alabaster faces. In a flash of insight, I recognized it. It was pain, a hopeless gnawing ache that descended into madness.

Jamie shoved her cross forward and two of the creatures disappeared in a dark blaze.

“Stand back!” Mac withdrew a pair of handguns and began blasting. Dozens of high velocity slugs bit into flesh and three more vanished. However another group was advancing up the driveway.

When Mac’s pistols finally clicked on empty cylinders, I shivered.

“Connor, please…” Jamie whimpered.

I was close to outright panic when I sensed the change.

Something flashed behind the eyes of each ghoul and they abruptly froze.

“Connor,” Mac gestured upwards. “The sun…”

“Son of a…!” My jaw dropped.

The monsters were only one step away from tearing our chests open and yet I couldn’t help but tear my eyes away.

Slowly, like clouds evaporating after a summer shower, the sick, greenish tinge was fading. After a few drawn-out seconds, a familiar yellow star had resumed its normal position in the heavens.

The apparitions barely had enough time to open their mouths in a silent scream before they were sucked upwards. Like puffs of errant smoke, they quickly faded from mortal view.

And, suddenly, we were alone.

Jamie let out an audible sob and, still clinging to her cross, slumped to the ground.

Mac continued to stare dumbly into the blue sky.

I slowly pulled the blonde to her feet.

“It’s ok,” I whispered. “They’re gone.”

I was surprised to see a smile behind the tears.

“The answer was in the colors,” she said.

“What?”

She read my confusion. “The sun didn’t vanish,” she explained. “We were wrong, it was there all along.”

I shook my head, still not comprehending.

“It’s the same with painting,” she continued. “Our sun was just obscured by one of another color.”

“You mean…?”
She nodded. “Our star, our world, crossed paths with another realm…” She took a breath and wiped her eyes. “We merged with them. For ninety-two days, our existences overlapped and intertwined …”

My thoughts were racing. “But what color…?”

“A black sun, Connor, one that bathed an equally evil…planet.”

She met my gaze and held it. “Our world crossed paths with some manner of place we were never intended to see… not while alive.”

I hesitated. “Was it a test…or a punishment?”

She shrugged and her gaze swept the clouds and pale blue sky. “Who knows,” she whispered. “Maybe it was both.”

© Simon, 2007

The author is a hockey and rugby player who resides on the east coast of Canada and manages to practice medicine in his spare time. Recent published words include ‘Layers’ in Apex: Science Fiction and Horror (Best of 2005), ‘The Answer’ in Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine, ‘Star in the East’ and ‘Natural Selection’ in The Sword Review and ‘Standing in Line’ by Ragged Edge,. He has contributed to several anthologies including Travel a Time Historic’, Tall Tales and Short Stories and The Unknown. The short story ‘Marionettes’ won first place in the 2004 Conestoga Short Story Competition. Non fiction articles have appeared in Stitches Magazine and The Physician’s Chronicle.

 

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