Zach

Arlene still wasn’t speaking, and it was 10 at night. I don’t want to sound like a heartless douchebag - well, actually I really don’t care what I sound like – but I was glad. That girl just grates my nerves.

I leaned my head on my arm and got a whiff of the fruity, girly-smelling soap she had used with my hoodie. My head snapped back up and I looked around the room, the living room, where we had decided to camp out for the night.

Arlene was on the couch, but Trey, Ralph and me were all sleeping on the floor. My brother was asleep next to me, but I wasn’t sure about everyone else.

If you had told me the other day that’d I’d be spending my Wednesday night sleeping in the living room of some stranger’s house, with some strangers sleeping next to me, I would’ve said, “fuck you,” ’cause that’s shit I just don’t do.

I flipped over and stretched my legs out. My foot hit something and it clattered to the floor. I lifted my head to look, feeling a pang of panic when I saw it was the hunting rifle Trey had propped up against the couch.

Groaning, I pulled my knees up to my chest. Wouldn’t want to set one of those off in my sleep. Wake up missing a foot and having to stumble over an explanation. “Well, gee guys, I guess I just didn’t see the harm in sleeping next to a loaded gun.”

“Zach?” someone said. Not someone, more like something. Some creature whose apparently female, though I don’t see the resemblence.

“What?” I heard shifting and when I lifted my gaze I saw Arlene was sitting up on the couch. She wasn’t looking at me, just looking off, towards the stairs.

“Do you…,” her voice trailed off and I made a face. Was she hoping we’d bond during her misery? Be all buddy-buddy in the morning? Think we could have a moment during the night and be best friends the next day?

It wasn’t going to happen.

“What?” I asled again. I looked up at her but she still wasn’t looking at me. “Go to sleep,” I finally said, “and leave me alone.”

“Oh.” That’s all she said, ‘Oh.’ Now I felt like an asshole for brushing her off. I rubbed at my eyes tiredly. Too early, or too late, for this.

I watched her settle back on the couch and it was quiet for a long time, until there was a bang from upstairs. I was the only one that shot up.

Arlene must’ve seen me looking around frantically because she said, “It’s just the house,” in an impatient snap that told me my attitude towards her had broken the spell and returned her bitchy attitude.

There was another bang and Ralph started to stir. I got to my feet, stepping over the gun and heading towards the stairs.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“To see if it really is the house. Or did you already forget we’re holed up against some sort of mutant creature?” She was quiet and I nodded my head, climbing the first step.

“Wait.” I looked behind me and saw she had picked up the rifle and was approaching me. “Okay, now let’s go.”

“What’d you bring that for?” I asked, prodding the gun with my elbow as we climbed the stairs. She narrowed her eyes.

“For protection. Or did you already forget what happened in the bar?” The cut across my chest throbbed in response, but I wasn’t about to admit she was right.

“I don’t need no girl and her gun to protect me,” I muttered, stepping onto the upstairs hallway. I heard her swallow and when I glanced back, she was looking at her dad’s bedroom door.

It was closed, but we hadn’t closed it…

I approached it and saw it was still open a crack. A creak on the other side of the door made her (and me) jump.

“Okay, so the wind closed it. No big deal,” I said, reaching for the doorknob so I could close it all the way. We didn’t say it outloud, but there was a strong possibility hanging in the air between us that her dad could be, well, not her dad, and perhaps still walking around despite his death. The possibility was strong, especially if zombie movies were anything to go by.

There was a groan on the other side of the door – a very human groan.

“M-my dad,” Arlene stuttered. “He’s… he’s not dead.” She looked at me, her big eyes all round, and then she shoved the rifle in my stumbling hands and burst into the bedroom.

“Arlene!” I hissed, pushing my way into the room as well.

And there was her dad, standing, silhouetted in the window.

“D-Dad?” she whispered. She couldn’t actually believe her dad was still alive and normal could she?

She took a step towards her father, but I could immediately sense he wasn’t her father anymore. Maybe she sensed it too, because she stopped and backed up to stand next to me.

I raised the rifle to shoot, but Arlene put her hand on it, pushing it back down.

“Wait,” she said. “H-he might, he might -,”

“He might what Arlene? Remember you? Start dancing around because he has a second chance at life? Because he didn’t actually get bitten and mauled and he didn’t actually die?” I saw her lips tighten, like she might start crying.

“No, I just -,”

“Then what’s he gonna do? Smile and say, ‘gotcha!’ ’cause it was all a joke? Because he fakes his own death for shits and giggles?” I was going to go on, but her dad – what was left of him – turned slowly.

His head was twisted in an unnatural way, and his shoulder was slumped and I saw the bare muscles showing in the moonlight. I raised the rifle again but Arlene shook her head, saying, “No, no, no…,” over and over again.

“He’s not your Dad, Ar-!” the thing jumped at me, his jaw opened like he was going to bite my head off and the only thing that stopped it from doing so was that he had chomped down on the rifle.

I struggled beneath her dad, hysteria building in my throat. And Arlene just stood there, watching. Maybe I should’ve befriended her. Maybe she would’ve saved me if I had.

Her dad sunk his teeth into the rifle and flung it to the side, ripping it from my grasp. My cuts from the last attack started throbbing from the physical exhurtion, but my will to live kept me fighting.

I reached up and clawed her dad across the face. He made this kind of whine that just was not human, and it made my skin crawl.

Then he bounded off me and turned on Arlene. She stumbled backward, landing on the bed. Her dad grabbed her shoulders, and then he –

Did nothing.

He sat there, staring at her. Arlene was trembling but her dad made no move to chew her face off, like he did to me.

Maybe he did recognize her. Possibilities flooded my mind as I watched in awed horror as her dad lowered his head and put his nose against hers. Then he bounded away, landing on the other side of the bed.

Arlene scrambled up and fell to the floor on the other side of the bed, away from her dad. Her dad shot her a look, then his inhuman eyes turned on me and something passed between us. A moment passed, and I think I understood the vibe coming off him

Take care of her.

I narrowed my eyes and lowered my head, trying to give him the answer that I’d do whatever the hell I wanted to and the only person I was going to take care of was Ralph, but her dad was already gone. He had jumped out the window, leaving the curtains billowing in the breeze.

I exhaled and turned to Arlene. She was a little shaken. I prodded her with my foot and she looked up at me.

“He wasn’t… we,” she paused to breathe, “he recognized me. We used to do that instead of kissing.”

“Rubbing your noses?”

“Yeah.” She got to her feet, picking up the rifle. “I think he was still human. I think… I, I don’t even know. I need time to process it all.” She looked at me and I nodded.

“Me too.”

 

 Zach

I was watching the fire with their dingy knitted blanket draped around my shoulders, relishing in the warmth coming from the fire, when a thought popped in my head.

“How long are we going to stay here?” I asked. Their house was creepy, and cold, and with that thing - Robert, I hastily reminded myself, that thing had once been Robert – running around, we weren’t that safe.

“Well,” Trey glanced at his watch, “If we leave once your sweater dries, it’ll be around 6. You’re still going to drop us off at the bus stop, right?”

Hell yes! I thought. The girl was irritating, and Trey was starting to piss me off too, only because he was so passive and boring. He was a nerd minus the glasses.

He was quiet again, so I was left to my thoughts. Immediatly they went to Robert, and I remembered how sick he had been in gym class, and before that, in math. He had stuck his head out the window…

The rain had done that to him? The idea didn’t fill me with relief like I had thought. If the rain was the cause, who else had been infected, and why did it happen? What exactly was in the rain, and why did it turn him into… I couldn’t even find the words.

Robert had turned into a monster, that’s what.

So had everyone who was out in the rain turned, too? The idea sent shivers down my spine. There were 500 people in our town, at least 250 of them had to have been outside when the rain hit. Were they all… changed? Mutated? Whatever?

And if all those people had changed, did they become aggressive like Robert? Had they killed the rest of the town? We couldn’t be the only survivors… No, I refused to believe it. There was Peter, and all the kids in school. They had to have survived, too. And all the adults at work?

So if they survived, where was everyone? Why were we the only ones on the streets?

I felt Ralph shift against me and I realized I had forgotten he was there. I reached over and ruffled his hair. He didn’t smile, didn’t even meet my gaze.

There was a thump upstairs, and screaming echoed around the house.

Typical girl. She probably found a spider upstairs, or a mouse – Oh, scary rodent! I rolled my eyes, but Trey jumped to his feet and practically flew up the stairs. I wouldn’t put it past him if he suddenly ripped open his shirt and revealed a superhero outfit. He had that kind of geeky, hero complex to him that I didn’t like.

Let the girl scream, she’d learn to face her own fears without some dude coming to rescue her.

Still, I found myself following him up the stairs. I was half curious, and half set on making fun of her. If she was screaming over something stupid, like a bug, I swear she wouldn’t hear the end of it…

I turned the corner and saw the girl, still screaming, with tears streaking down her face. She was trying to throw herself down on the floor, way on the other side of the bed. Trey was holding her arms, pulling her up and I assumed trying to pull her away. His face was ghostly white, and that’s when all thoughts she was crying over something stupid left my head.

I rounded the corner and saw a man laying on the floor. There was blood – a lot of it – and I think a chunk of his shoulder was missing. I felt queasy. My gut churned and I glanced away, my eyes landing on Arlene.

I could suddenly understand what she was screaming, over and over again.

“Dad! Dad!” she yelled. A pang of some sort of emotion ran through me. I think I felt bad for her. I was lucky to not know where my dad was, but she had found hers half rotten laying in her house. That was just… sad.

“What’s–? What’s happened?” I recognized Ralph’s voice. I looked by the entrance of the bedroom and saw him standing there, wide-eyed and afraid.

“Get out of here!” I hissed. Arlene was thrashing and Trey couldn’t handle her anymore. I grabbed one of her arms, yanking her back away from her father and throwing her on the floor.

Trey knelt down, pinning her.

“Arlene!” he hissed in her face. She was starting to choke on hysteria. I could hear her breath, rapid and coming out too fast for it to be normal.

I figured her body was shutting down, or doing something considering she had been through so much today. Attacked by some creature not once by twice, dealing with the rain, the ambulance, and finding her father dead.

I saw she was clutching a gray tee shirt in her hand, and I felt kinda bad. She had only come up here for me. It was my fault she found her father… But would it have been better to just let him rot up here? Maybe it was good she found him.

I knelt down and grabbed the tee shirt, realizing I was still shirtless. It took a few yanks before the fabric was released from her iron grip.

I slipped it on, then got up and grabbed a bed sheet from the bed. I used it to cover up her father for the time being. One, so I wouldn’t have to look at all that blood, and two I figured it was the right thing to do. I mean, that’s what they always did on TV. I would’ve even shut his eyes, but that required me kneeling in a puddle of blood where I could smell it, and that was something I would not do.

For a moment, I stood there, my eyes on the body of her father. Thanks for the shirt, I thought hastily. When I realized it was quiet behind me, I spun to see what had happened.

Arlene was staring at the ceiling while Trey sat beside her, his hands on his face. I waited for one of them to move, but as the minutes ticked by I realized they might want to be alone with the body.

I shifted towards the door, wondering where my brother went, when Arlene’s voice spoke up.

“I’m not leaving tonight,” she muttered. The last word wavered a bit, like she might start crying again. “I can’t just…,” she inhaled, “leave him here.”

“We’ll call someone –,”

She jumped up, yelling, “What ‘someone?’ There is no one left in this fucking town, they’re either dead or turned into those fucking things!” She inhaled again, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes.

Trey looked away from her. “How can you be sure there’s more than one of them?”

“She’s right,” I said. “The one… the one that attacked us? He used to go to my school. His name was Robert. I think the rain changed him.”

Trey rubbed at his eyes again.

“Fine,” he said, pulling his hands away and blinking. “We’ll stay for the night, but first thing tomorrow morning we’re out of here.”

They both looked at me.

“Are you leaving tonight, then?” Trey asked.

I was going to say yes, but the word died on my tongue. I imagined just me and Ralph on the road to Calgary, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle being the one in charge, the one pulling the ropes without know one else’s opinions. After all, Arlene had known how to fix my cuts, so despite her irritating presence she was useful to have around.

“No, we’ll stay,” I said.

Trey looked relieved. I could relate. I doubted he wanted to be left alone with a grieving, moody girl like Arlene. She was a bitch normally, so she had to be way worse now, with her dad n’ all.

“Well,” Trey paused, “If there’s more of those things, we’ll need protection - just in case.” My mind flashed to the shotgun in the car, but Trey and Arlene’s eyes met.

“The hunting rifles,” Arlene mumbled, “Down in the basement.”

Hunting rifles? What kind of family did she have, where they had hunting rifles just tucked away downstairs?

 

 Arlene

I think I went into shock. All I could think was, ‘Not again. Not that creature again.’ I can’t even remember where Trey was going, all I saw where his hands on the steering wheel, his knuckles white from gripping it so hard.

I didn’t even remember anyone talking until I heard Zach’s little brother in the front seat, his eyes wide as he stared at us. I saw the fear in his face, and that alone made me snap out of whatever transe I had been in.

“Zach, Zach…,” his little brother was saying. I stole a glance at the guy in question. His head was down against his chest and his hair was a mess. I could see his arms were shaking, and I was pretty sure he went into shock as well.

“We need to get you guys some medical help,” Trey said, turning down a dirt road. I remembered the road – we had been here not a few hours ago, when it had first started raining.

I turned to look out the window, but a sliver of pain ignited on my neck. My hand reached up automatically, and when I pulled away my fingers were bloody.

It was hazey, but I remembered the creature digging his nails into my neck.

“Not nails,” I said, not even realizing I had spoken my thoughts out loud, “Fucking claws.”

“Zach!” The little boy said again. The tremor in his voice made me feel guilty. The poor little kid was about to start crying, and I barely gave a rat’s ass about Zach’s condition.

I exhaled. The grudge I held against him would have to be put aside for the time being. I was the only one in the car who had enough experience in the medical field. I’d have to be the one to treat Zach, since Trey even failed his CPR course and I doubted the little kid knew how to put on a band-aid, let alone treat wounds.

We turned down a dirt driveway and I looked up briefly. Something warm washed over me when I saw my house. My old, dingy farmhouse that I loved so much.

Trey parked the car not a foot away from the porch, and I leaned over to poke Zach.

He jumped, his eyes flashing.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he hissed.

“Then you can get your ass into my house by yourself,” I snapped, getting out of the backseat and slamming the door. And he did just that, putting on a tough facade like his scratched up body wasn’t hurting. I knew he probably wanted to burst into tears. I wouldn’t put the behavior past him, the little pussy.

Trey dug into his pocket for the keys and opened the door. I ushered everyone inside, making sure not to touch Mr. Tough, though. God forbid he’d bite my head off if I did.

Trey went about locking all the doors and windows, like we were holing up against an army of zombies, instead of just one. Actually, I shouldn’t even joke about that. It’s a scary thought having just one of those things running around. I didn’t need the idea that there was a whole army out there.

The house was cold, since my Dad was still at work. He worked shifts at the hospital from 6 am to 8 pm on some days, and today was one of those days.

I glanced at a clock.

He’d be home in three hours.

“Your bleeding,” I blurted to Zach. He shot me a, ‘no-shit-Sherlock’ expression. I put my hands on my hips.

“Well, do you want to bleed all over my house?!” I said. “Get your ass in the kitchen.” I pointed over my shoulder to where the kitchen obviously was, but he didn’t budge.

“My brother?” he said finally.

“He can stay on the couch,” I replied. I took in the kid’s shorts. Remembering the freezing house, I added, “There’s a blanket in case he gets cold.”

Zach sauntered after me to the kitchen, but I took one good look at his disgusting appearence and decided the kitchen was the least sanitary place to clean him up. I grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink and led him to the bathroom, sitting him down on the toilet.

“Shirt off,” I said. He had the nerve to hesitate. “What? I’m not going to check you out,” I said. He rolled his eyes and peeled off his hoodie, then his tee shirt.

I crouched down in front of him, opening the first aid kit and looking around for disinfectent.

“You can wash the blood off,” I said. I felt powerful when he did just that without a snarky comment. I could get used to bossing him around without so much as a word in complaint.

I found the disinfectent and bandages, then waited for him to sit back down on the toilet. I contemplated letting him do the rest – I didn’t even want to touch him – but the idea left my head as soon as it came. He was an idiot. He’d never do it right.

I dabbed the disinfectent liquid on a cloth and started dabbing at the wounds. Without the blood, they didn’t look so bad. I had expected worse.

“What am I going to wear?” I almost jumped at how soft his voice was. I didn’t even know such a sound could come from his mouth.

“Um,” I glanced at his clothes. His hoodie had been skewed off his shoulder when the creature had attacked, so it wasn’t ripped, just covered in blood. The tee shirt, however…

“‘Um’ isn’t much of an answer,” he said. His voice wasn’t harsh though, just that weird, soft tune. I think he was being nice just because I was fixing him up.

“I could throw your hoodie in the wash,” I said, “But your tee shirt…,” I grimaced and he managed to smile.

“That bad?” he asked. I casted a glance to it, crumpled on the floor full of his blood and I nodded.

I put the cloth down and got the band-aid wrap, putting it around his chest and his shoulder, tying a little knot. I got one of those big, square, flesh-coloured ones for his neck wound.

“So I’ll get one of my dad’s shirts for you,” I said. I glanced up in time to see him make a face. “Whipe that expression off. My dad isn’t a fruity dresser. I’m sure I can find something to match your ‘style.’”

I picked up his shirts and headed down to the basement. After I started the washer, I headed back upstairs, passing by the three of them on the couch. Trey had started a fire in the fireplace and they were all sitting around it, Zach and his brother sharing the blanket.

I crept up the stairs to my Dad’s room. My goal was to head to the closet, but I saw a red flashing light on my dad’s answering machine. I pressed play as I walked by and continued to the closet, immediatly diving in to find a tee shirt that would fit Zach.

My dad had a bit of a stomach, so I had to dig way into the back to find something smaller, back from before, when my dad used to work out.

“Hey, this is Amanda Nelson. Nick, your lunch break’s been over for an hour now, and your patients need you. I know how much you hate when I call you for the littlest things, but you said you ran home and we’re curious as to when you’re getting back. Again, your patients need you.”

I paused in my search, Amanda’s message running through my mind. Dad was late? Dad was never late. He knew how important his job was – he was a sick kid’s doctor, after all and he’d do anything to get there on time. His patients meant a lot to him.

Another message flicked on.

“Nick, it’s Amanda again. It is now quarter to one and we had to call Rick in as a replacement for you. Is something wrong at home? Call me.”

He still hadn’t gotten to work at quarter to one? That was after the rain had started… Did something — ?

No. I would not let her mind wander down that path.

I grabbed a gray tee shirt from way in the back of the closet and spun. The answer machine flicked off, but worry gnawed on my mind.

Where was Dad? Why hadn’t he gotten to the hospital?

Maybe he knew what had happened, with that creature running around, and he had left town. Would he leave without picking me up? Maybe, if it was bad. I wasn’t exactly a perfect daughter…

No, he wouldn’t leave town without me.

So where was he?

I knew we couldn’t wait around for him, that me and Trey would have to leave anyways. But I still wanted to know what happened to my dad.

And then I spotted his wallet, on the far bedside table. And I saw all the cash in there, and the only thought that popped in my mind was, “We could use that…”

I didn’t think how mysterious it was that my Dad’s wallet was just lying there. I just knelt across the bad, leaned over and picked it up. As I stashed it in my pocket, I noticed what was on the floor, laying in a pool of blood.

Dad.

And he wasn’t breathing.

The scream that echoed around me wasn’t even recognizable.

_________________________________________________________________

•  Go To Chapter Eight

 

 Zach

After the girl – Arlene – was finished talking, we sat in stilled silence. The only noise heard in the car was made by the wind as we drove through the deserted town I once called home. Now I wasn’t sure what to call it, not after all that had happened.

The first honest thought that popped into my mind was that they were definatly bullshitting us – me and my brother. Probably the girl’s idea, she seemed the least likely to be right in the head. But at any rate, I just couldn’t bring myself to believe her fruity story. If that kind of stuff had actually happened, I’m pretty sure it’d have a more lasting effect on them. I’d expect them to be brooding in the backseat, staring out the window and jumping at anything that moved within a 20 kilometer radius.

I glanced in the mirror. They were watching me watch them, was what they were doing. I cleared my throat, tapping my thumb on the steering wheel.

“That’s uh, quite a story,” I said, scratching at my neck. The girl put her hand over her mouth and leaned in to whiper to her companion. That was what you did when you didn’t want others to hear – but that big flappy thing stuck on her face? It’s called a mouth. And hers is unfortunately too big. I heard every word that had the unfortune to flood out of her trap.

“He doesn’t believe us.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” the male said. He had the dignity to keep his hands in his lap, knowing I could hear everything. The girl pulled back and searched the male’s face. My eyes darted back to the road.

“You’re right,” she whispered, “It’s not really something you can believe without witnessing.”

They stayed silent, and I glanced over at Ralph. He was clutching his backpack and being the usual quiet self he was around strangers.

“Well, gas is over a buck nowadays, and I can’t keep driving around aimlessly,” I said, I didn’t add that I wanted them out of my car. ”Is there anyplace I can take you two?”

“Umm,” the girl said. I ignored her and met eyes with the boy in the backseat. If they didn’t make up their mind soon I was going to dump them off at the nearest Soup Kitchen.

“We’d actually like to get out of town, so maybe if you could -,”

“Get out of town?!” the girl said, her shrill voice piercing my eardrums. I scowled at her in the review mirror.

“Yes, Arly, get out of town. We can’t very much stay here, can we?” His words were right. I may not believe them about the jumping-flying-murderous creature, but the ambulance? The deserted town? It all added up to something big happening, and I wanted to get closer to civilization. I wanted to get Ralph closer to civilization.

I glanced at my watch. It was 4:00, which meant my dad would probably be at the bar.

“Tell you what,” I said, “I’m not staying in this town either, but I have to get my dad. How about I drop you two off at the bus station afterward?”

“Why not before?” the girl said.

“Because we’re closer to the bar, and I’m not wasting gas to drive all the way on the other side of town to the bus stop, then coming all the way back. Got it?”

“Loud and clear, sir,” she snapped. She even fake saluted. I glared out the windshield, getting more and more irritated with her presence.

It was quiet until we got to Ramon’s Bar and Grill – my dad’s usual hangout. Funny how I knew so little about Arlene, yet I could feel her sneer and sense her brain churning out words even before she had a chance to speak.

As I unlcoked the door she said, “Your dad lives at the bar?” I stepped out and ignored her, leaning in to look at Ralph. I didn’t want to leave him in the car with those two freaks, but I wasn’t going to bring him into the bar. Especially if there was a chance my dad was drunk. I wouldn’t expose him to that.

“Stay put, got it?” I ordered, pointing a finger at him.

My heart dropped into my stomach when he said, “Loud and clear, sir,” then saluted. Arlene started laughing and a small smile lined his features as he watched her. He wasn’t used to making people laugh, I guess.

Anyways, I’d talk to him about it later. Make sure he understands he shouldn’t copy other people – especially people I despise.

I headed into the bar and was greeted with the familiar hot, sticky, smokey, nicotine-filled room. Despite Ramon’s insistance to keep the front door open, the room’s level of breatheable air never changed. It would always be hot and smokey in here. I could feel myself getting high off the nicotine-drenched room already, and I had only been in here for what, a minute?

And then I stopped dead in my tracks (and my inner-narration). Ramon’s was usually filled with buff, beefed-up guys playing pool or cracking jokes and laughing until they hacked up a lung into their ashtray.

But the bar was empty, and the omnipresent abandonment throughout town was starting to become a familiarity.

“Ramon, you washed up biker. Get your ass out here,” I called. I squinted through the smoke to try and make out movement, but there was none. I took a step forward, the toe of my shoe kicking a beer bottle under a table.

“Dad?” I heard the panic rise in my voice. “Ramon?” I made my way around the sitting area in the bar to the counter. I leaned over and almost puked.

Well, I found Ramon. Pale, stone-eyed, dead Ramon.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned. This was a whole different level of disturbance. I wasn’t scared of dead bodies, I mean, I had seen my grandma in a casket, all prettied up with rose petals around her. But this was Ramon, his eyes staring up at the ceiling with his mouth hanging slack-jawed open in horror; a mirror of his last moment in life. Ramon was not prettied up. He had been killed.

I turned away and the smoke in the bar, which seconds ago had just been a nuisance, was now a smoke screen, hiding a murderer – or the creature that had attacked Arlene and Trey.

I took a step around the counter, heading to the kitchen, my eyes darting wildly around the room. Something moved and I jumped, tripping over my own feet and landing on a table. I looked up again and realized it had been my reflection in a mirror.

“Okay, okay,” I mumbled, creeping towards the kitchen, “so this is what it feels like to be paranoid.” I pushed open the swinging doors and was glad to find the room empty and free of smoke.

But that was probably the only thing I was glad to see in the room. The two chefs that worked at Ramon’s were laying on the floor, blood oozing from their mangled bodies. I felt bile rise in my throat and I turned away, pushing the kitchen doors open and running out back into the bar.

I started hacking, trying to keep the contents of my stomach down as I leaned up against a table. I could hear my breathing, strangled and laboured.

“Okay,” I whispered, whiping the sweat from my brow. “Okay, okay.” I ran a hand through my hair. “Stay calm.”

But I couldn’t. I could feel the panic rising, threatening to break free.

I began heading back out to the door, sure that my dad wasn’t here. Positive that he wasn’t just a body hidden in the hazy room.

But something hit me with the force of a bus, knocking me to the floor and leaving me breathless. I rolled over and almost wanted to start crying.

A creature resembling a person was watching me from a table, their red eyes glowing a slitted, like a cat’s.

I started scrambling backward, but the thing leapt forward and landed on top of me, his weight crushing my insides. I grunted and started thrashing, punching and kicking at the thing.

He grabbed the front of my shirt and for an instant we stared at each other, and those features… recognition slithered into my mind. And what I discovered? It terrified me. It chilled me to the very core of my being.

“Robert?” I whispered. The creature let out a snarl of rage and slammed me into the floor, my head cracking against it. My vision exploded into shards of light and as I blinked it away, I saw the creature – Robert, or what was left of him – raise a clawed hand.

I didn’t have time to dodge. His claw met my jaw and cut deep into my skin. He pulled his hand back, all the way down to my chest and let out another inhuman growl.

The pain I felt… it was surreal. I could feel the whole side of my face and neck bleeding. And it stung. Everything stun. I didn’t know how bad it was, but I assumed the worst.

The creature raised his hand again. I saw my blood dripping off his mangled fingers, and I pinched my eyes shut, waiting for him to rip up the other side of my body.

I heard the creature snarl, and some part of my tired, exhausted brain registered the sound of footsteps.

And in a second, the creature leapt off of me. I immediatly rolled out of the way. The cuts on the left side of my body stun and burned and I had to swallow a whimper.

I hit the legs of a table and looked out from underneath, searching for the source of the footsteps. If it was Ralph…. so help me, I’d… well, I don’t know what I’d do. Probably be somewhere close to strangling him, if we made it out of here alive.

But I saw the girl, Arlene. Or more accurately, I saw her black skinny jeans and Converse shoes walk by about a yard in front of my hiding spot.

“Your brother’s starting to get worried,” she said, stopping in the middle of the bar.

I knew the creature was watching her. I knew she was his next target, and I couldn’t exactly explain what I felt.

Relief, that I had a chance to escape while the monster was busy with her. Then guilt, for thinking that selfishly. Maybe a little bit of worry – after all, I didn’t want to see someone get ripped up.

“Arlene,” I hissed. She turned, trying to find me in the darkness. I waved my hand out from under the table, gaining her attention and also gaining an explosion of burning pain in my wounds.

She walked over in that annoying, ‘I’m-so-cool’ strut of hers and crouched down. Her face was in full bitch mode. I knew she had been prepared to mock me for being under a table, or to mock my fear.

But her face did a complete 180. Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth dropped. Her eyes fell over my wounds.

“What-?” I saw those glowing red eyes behind her, and I didn’t have enough time to warn her. The monster - Robert – grabbed her ankles and dragged her towards him. His hands went around her neck and slammed her against the wall, his nails digging into her neck.

I looked away. I wasn’t about to witness her demise.

And then my eyes fell on the shotgun Ramon kept behind the bar. It was on the floor with bullet casings next to it. So Robert had killed him, and he’d tried to shoot him. That meant there were bullets in there…

I used my elbows and feet to scramble over to the gun. I heard Arlene gasp from pain, and as I grabbed the cool metal weapon I didn’t think. I didn’t think that Robert used to be human, I didn’t think that what I was doing was practically murder…

I aimed as best I could at Robert and shot.

There was a moment when everything was still. Arlene’s expression was frozen in fear and Robert was very still, not even breathing.

Then his grip released and Arlene slid down to the floor. Robert howled in rage and jumped away from her, his eyes rolling and his head reeling in pain. I saw blood begin to ooze out of his back, where the bullets hit him. He was distracted by the pain, so I bolted out of the door, scrambling to the car.

Arlene had enough sense to follow.

We both emerged from the bar, bleeding and struggling. Fear was probably eminent on our faces, since Trey jumped out of the backseat and got in the front.

For a second I was confused. Then, as I stopped for a breather by the backseat door, I realized my whole body was trembling. I slid in, gasping for breath. My shoulder was still burning, and now that I wasn’t focussed on surviving I let out the longest string of profonaities, saying some words I didn’t even know I had stored away in my mind.

_______________________________________________________________

• Go To Chapter Seven

 Arlene

I watched the bloody hand slide down the windshield, down the hood and disappear from view. My heart was thumping a mile a minute, and my breathing was erratic. I heard it, raspy and almost inhuman, jumping around my ears as I struggled to stay calm. All I could think was, “What the hell? What should I do?!”

The rain was slowing, it only coming down in small pitter-patters now. Still, I wasn’t going to step outside to see where the bloody hand – and the body attached – went. Especially considering the person who made that hand bloody could still be out there, too.

I watched the oily water streak the blood down the windshield, and I don’t know how much time passed, but it was enough time for the rain to stop – and for Trey to still not be here.

Worry started to gnaw at me, and I scrambled over into the driver’s seat. Trey had forgotten to lock the doors so I did that quickly. My gaze stayed fixed on the blood, occasionally flicking to the grocery store, or the the hardware store across the street.

Another few minutes passed, and my erratic breathing only grew worse. My head was starting to fill with ideas – the bloody hand on the windshield was Trey’s, or Trey was killed in the grocery store, or… or…

“What the hell is that?” I whispered, leaning forward so my nose was practically up against the windshield. In the distance, on the roof of a store down the street, something moved. It looked like a person, crouched over, watching something in the distance.

And then I saw flashing lights, and an ambulance came barreling over the hill at a dangerous speed. And it all happened in slow motion – the swerving ambulance was heading directly for Trey’s car, and my body was already poised, waiting for impact. However, my eye caught sight of the figure on the roof leaping and landing right in front of the car.

I almost screamed.

It was a boy my age, but his face… the skin was decayed and peeling back over his teeth, his skin was blackening, like it was dying, and parts of his flesh were rotted away to bone. His eyes were black and wild, peering deep within mine.

Then he opened his mouth and hissed. Like an animal. And only then did I actually scream in sheer terror. He reached down and hoisted something over his shoulder. I blinked and realized it was a body – alive or dead, I had no idea – wearing a paramedic’s outfit. His whole arm was cut open and dripping onto his hand.

The thing was inbetween Trey’s car and the ambulance, and for a moment I thought the out-of-control ambulance would pin the creature in bewtween the cars. But in a flash he jumped up and landed on the roof of the ambulance, then jumped off onto the roof of the hardware store. This all happened seconds before the ambulance veered and crashed into the side of Trey’s car.

My heart still thumping from what I had witnessed now only beat faster, knowing death could be right around the corner. My head hit the window and I pinned my eyes shut, feeling my body swinging around like the car was spinning. I heard the tires screech across the asphalt. The windows shattered, sprinkling onto my lap, and the car groaned as it came to a stop. I heard more shattering from behind, but I couldn’t work up the energy to look.

My head rested limply on the steering wheel, my hands tucked underneath. Except for my laboured breathing, it was all quiet; even the rain had stopped.

Slowly, carefully, I untangled myself and looked around. The car had ended up swerved on the other side of the street, near the hardware store. I craned my neck and saw the ambulance had crashed into the front display.

If there was people in there, stuck in the ambulance…

No, don’t go out there.

But what if they’re hurt? What if they’re dying?

Don’t you remember that creature? He’s still out there, y’know.

It’s small-town courtesy to make sure your fellow citizen is okay. Besides, if the roles were reversed they’d come for me.

And that’s how I found my fingers on the lock, slowly pulling it back to unlock the door. I blinked, sucked in a deep breath and plunged into the world outside. Without batting a lash, I jogged over to peer into the front compartment, where the driver would be seated.

Finding it empty, I crossed my arms and made my way around to the back. The doors were closed, but they were unlocked. I kicked one of them open and peered into the darkness. There was a bunch of stuff rolling around, but nothing shaped like a person.

When I stood up this eerie feeling like I was being watched crept down my spine. I spun, glaring out across the road. In all honesty, I was hoping I would scare whatever was watching me away. A mist was settling in, and that made things all the creepier.

I ran full speed into the grocery store and slammed the door shut behind me, taking in deep gulps of precious air.

“Trey?” I called, once I had regained normal breathing patterns. The store was lit up, but the emptiness of the place was unnerving.

“Trey! Stop being a pussy and come out. I’ve got a hell of a lot of shit to tell you.” I heard a scuffle near the end of the store – like a wet shoe squeaking on the floor – and I heard a crash.

I headed towards the noise, almost one hundred percent sure it was Trey. Actually, more like ninety-nine percent sure. After what I had witnessed in the car? I was expecting anything to pop out at me.

As I made my way toward the scuffling, I scanned the shelves, hoping to find something big enough to use as a weapon. The shelves were filled with little boxes and bags, nothing hard and sturdy to successfully bludger someone. And even if I did find something, would I have enough will power to do any damage?

I nearly gasped when I turned down the last aisle. The whole shelf was turned over, with cans of beans scattered on the floor, some split open. In the middle of the mess was Trey, laying limply on his stomach with his arms curled in to his chest.

I slipped on some of the juices on the floor when I raced over to him, collapsing on my knees by his side and succeeding in covering myself with bean gunk.

“Trey,” I whispered, shaking his shoulder. He stirred a bit, mumbling.

“Trey, get the hell up. We gotta get out of here.” I heard my voice echoe around the store. Had I really been talking that loud?

Trey’s hand encircled my wrist and he lifted his head.

“Stay down and don’t move,” he whispered, his eyes narrowing. I looked down and saw his whole arm was bleeding. It was pretty bad, but after years of working on my parents’ farm and witnessing so many accidents, I was almost immune to the sight of blood.

“Why? We’ve got to get out, to get out town. We have to head to Calgary, or Edmonton, or somewhere-”

“Shut-up!” he hissed, yanking my arm so I fell down beside him. “Do you want to get your ass killed?”

I swallowed and looked him in the eyes, staying as still as I could. I heard a crash on the other side of the store, then footsteps racing down the aisle. Trey’s hand tightened on my wrist as the footsteps got closer, and closer, until finally…

They stopped, right by the aisle we were in. I could hear heavy, raspy breathing. Everytime it exhaled it whizzed through it’s teeth, and it kept doing that until a hiss started to bubble from its throat.

I kept my head down, and I could feel my pulse, racing through my veins. My breathing was coming out in short spasms, but Trey was completley still. I envied how calm he seemed.

And then I heard one foot hit the ground and suddenly something heavy was on my back, pulling my hair and yanking my head back. My head flew back and my eyes widened in surprise – then in horror – when I saw the same creature from before. He hissed again, his black eyes searching mine, his nails digging into my scalp, slowly moving down.

I cried out in pain and started thrashing, but the creature yanked my head back until I was still. His hand flew up, like he was going to smack me or rip me apart or something, until I saw Trey, on his knees with a coffee tin in his hand. He swung and it cracked on the creature’s head. He fell off, and I scrambled out from under him, grabbing onto Trey.

We were already running out of the store, not daring to look behind us. As we ran I took in Trey’s cut. It’d need stitched, but we didn’t have that liability anymore. The best we could do was wrap it up and keep it clean.

When we made it outside I veered to the ambulance and crawled into the back.

“What are you doing?!” Trey hissed, tugging on my ankle. I kicked his hand away, hoping it wasn’t his injured arm.

“I’m looking for disinfectent. I’m going to roll some jars out to you, and you tell me when you come across some, okay?” He didn’t say anything – probably silenced by my interest in his wound- so I took that as a yes. I crawled forward, slipping on the metal of the ambulance, trying to make my way to the back where a cabinet of supplies were kept.

I reached in and started rolling anything I could get my hands on back down to Trey.

“No,” he shouted when he got the first item. We were there for three minutes until he finally said he got a bottle of some. There were no bandages, so I was going to have to find some elsewhere.

We ran to the hardware store, down all the aisles to the backroom. Trey forced the door open and I slammed the bottle down on the table, instructing him to clean his wound while I look for bandages.

I wasn’t sure – we had passed by so quickly – but I thought I saw some on a small shelf near the front. On my way there, I picked up a piece of wood, keeping it tucked under my arm just in case that thing came back.

As I was finding my way around the store, seeing if I could salvage anything, I saw movement outside.

“It’s back,” I whispered, taking a small, baby-step towards the door. Something was moving by the ambulance.

If it was like an animal, was it following my scent… like a dog? Trying to track us down and eat us, or some crazy thing like that? I could still feel the wound in my scalp from where his dingy nails had dug in.

The shadow in the mist moved closer to the door of the hardware store, and I readied myself; an explosion of anger surged through my body.

How dare that fucking thing – that fucking creature - think it can just torture us? Make us fear for our lives? Make us run screaming into a hardware store? How dare it!

When the shadow was about five feet from the store, I kicked open the door, pinched my eyes shut, and started swinging the piece of wood around, hearing a satisfying clunk when it made impact.

I ripped open my eyes and saw a very pissed off guy.

“Oh snap,” was the only thing I could think of saying. “I wasn’t expecting… a person.” His eyes flashed and he spun on me. I seriously thought he might start punching me, or something.

Don’t blame me, he looked like the type of person to do that.

“Then what the hell were you expecting? Freaking sasquatch?!” I would’ve found that funny, if the guy didn’t have such a bitch look on his face – like he owned the world, or something.

“I could leave you out here with the creature,” was what I wanted to say. But something in my mind told me he had no idea there was a creature, and I wasn’t going to tell a complete stranger who might think I was crazy.

Hell, maybe I was crazy. Maybe I imagined the whole thing.

“I could clunk you again, y’know,” was what I ended up saying. Pathetic. He rolled his eyes and gave me a disgusted look.

“Go ahead, it’s not like its going to do any damage.” I frowned and mustered the best glare I could, just for him. Then I tightened my grip on the wood and walked back into the store.

I didn’t have time to fight with some stupid boy. I had a friend back there who needed help, and I wasn’t going to let him bleed to death because of some dude.

I heard footsteps and I almost groaned in disgust. Did he have to follow me?

“You know, there’s a destroyed ambulance out there,” he said, the tone in his voice completley different. I mimicked him under my breath, stopping only when I stumbled across the shelf with the bandages. I picked one up and picked up my pace, hoping he’d fall behind.

“Yeah, I know,” I snapped.

“We should call 911.” An opening for an insult. Perfect.

I spun and shot him another glare.

“Hey, you know that ambulance outside?” He just stared at me. “That was 911. We’re on our own, buddy.”

He was quiet for a moment, then he lamely said, “I have a name.”

“That you didn’t grace me with, nor do I care to know.” I opened the door to the backroom and stepped inside, spotting Trey tucking the disinfectent into his pocket.

“Whose this?” Trey asked me, his eyes darting from me to the guy and back. His lips quirked a bit, finding this mildly amusing for some reason.

“Another stray I picked up. You know how much I like dogs.” Trey hid his smile well and looked over at the boy.

“We’re still trying to teach her manners.” Silence filled the room, and Trey shifted. I think he would’ve stuck his hand out if he could. “Trey.”

“Zach,” the guy said.

“And this creature here is Arlene.” He patted my head and I frowned, unwrapping the bandages for his arm and beginning to wrap up the cut…

I lost track of Trey and Zach’s conversation, my mind wandering to what I had witnessed in the car, and in the store.

What was going on?

________________________________________________________________________

• Go To Chapter Six

 Zach

Okay, so what happened in gym class? It was bad, and like I said before, it just was not normal. But the longer I sat crouched on the bathroom sink with my foot wedged against the door to keep it closed, the more I wanted to admit I was over-reacting.

So some nerdy kid bit a teacher and another student. So what! Locking yourself in a bathroom is not the best answer, as I’ve learned the hard way.

The boys bathroom overlooked the front entrance of the school, and ever since Peter caught sight of an ambulance pulling up in the parking lot, he’s been glued to watching the commotion outside, and filling me in on the details.

“They had to strap Robert down,” he explained, “and now they’re taking him to the hospital. They’re still bandaging Frank and Coach, by the way. It looks like they keep replacing the bandages… maybe their cuts won’t clot?” he murmured mindlessly.

I shifted, trying to get comfortable.

“Half the school’s out there, I mean, I’m sure word got out by now that… uh,” he looked over at me, “well, y’know.”

I pulled my hands into the sleeves of my hoodie, sighing irritably. I had the undeniable urge to just book it and skip, but the only exit in our stupid little hick-school was right by the office. A smart move by the builders. In my mind, they were deviously tapping their fingers together and whispering, “Aren’t we the cleverest things that ever lived? Who would’ve thought to put the office by the ONLY entrance? Gosh darn, I need an award.”

I got to my feet and dusted the grime off my pants, glancing out the window. Peter was kneeling on the radiator under the window, shifting excitedly.

I didn’t know what there was to be excited about. Okay, maybe I just de-masculined myself right there, but I’m serious. Blood really makes me want to puke, and watching a kid get shipped off to a mental ward did not really make the top of my list of “excitement.”

And all those people standing out in the rain…

“Did the rain stop?” I blurted. I mentally slapped myself for turning into a prissy pussy. Pondering over the wonders of rain? Not liking a freaking major fight that took place in gym class? I need to man up a bit.

Chicks. Cars. Foooootbaaaaall!!

“Who cares?” Peter hissed, interupting my masculinity-pumping thoughts. He jammed his finger against the window, pointing towards the crowd of onlookers. The sheriff was pulling up, and a couple of volunteer firefighters were getting ready to leave, since they had been first to get here. The ambulance was gone with Robert safely tucked inside, hopefully shipping him off to the mental ward down in Calgary.

Not to be mean, but I hope he never, ever gets out.

I never thought Robert was that bad of a guy. Sure, he studied too much, and yeah he was one of those geeks that collected stamps and coins and other ‘treasures,’ but he was never bad. Like what I had seen today.

“Guess that’s what studying your whole life gets you,” Peter said, scratching the back of his neck. “A oneway trip to the looney bin.”

Peter glanced at his watch. “The bell’s gonna ring. You want a ride home or did you drive to school today?”

“I drove today.”

The good thing about living in a small town is that everyone has driven a car – or some sort of vehicle – by the time they turn 15. The good drivers have some sort of license by 16, and by 17 you can handle the road all by yourself. My dad, Ralph, works for this company that destroys old cars. The ones that still work well enough, he brings home. We’re a family of 3 with 2 drivers, and we have 5 cars parked in our lawn. 2 of them don’t work anymore, and my dad’s too cheap to pay for them to get towed.

“I’m assuming we’re not gonna hang, since it’s raining and you’re a little chicken shit when it comes to water.”

“I’m a chicken shit when it comes to a lot of things, but not to water,” I said, nudging his arm. “But I can’t. I got to pick up Ralph.”

“Which one? Are you picking your dad up from the bar or your brother up from school?” he looked at me, a slow smile spreading across his face. I rolled my eyes.

“Your lucky you have a normal dad,” I said.  Peter shook his head.

“My dad’s not normal. He drives a helicopter for a living. He collects gnomes and he gardens.” Peter shot me a disgusted look. I smirked.

“That explains you, then,” I added. I dodged a punch he threw at me and turned down the opposite hallway. “See you later, man,” I called over my shoulder. He flipped me the middle finger in reply.

The rain did stop, I noticed as I walked over to my car in the parking lot. My car was a dark blue Honda Civic Si, made mid-90′s. Not the best looking, and definatly not the most reliable but.. what can you do? At least I have a car.

And it only stalled twice when I turned it on.

I drove up Lakeside Street to get to the little elementary school that’s shittier then my highschool. I mean, c’mon, there are even bricks falling off the roof. How safe is that to have little children around?

They get out a few minutes before us, so Ralph was waiting on the curb for me, like usual. He automatically climbed in the seat, like usual, and stared out the window, like usual.

“How was your day?” I asked, like usual. I know, I sound like a parent. But he doesn’t have a parental figure in his life, especially not with Dad, so I took up the job a while back, little after Mom died.

“We painted,” he replied, “with our fingers.”

“Was it fun?”

“No, it was stupid. I’m in grade 5 and they make us finger paint. What the hell is that?”

“Art is stupid, am I right?” I glanced at him. His face stayed expressionless as he stared out the window, his fingers tapping on the armrest.

“Yeah,” he glared out at the passing scenery. I reached over and ruffled his hair.

“Any luck with the ladies?” His face scrunched up and he shook his head.

“They’re all so ugly!”

“They won’t be in a few years.” He made a ‘hmm’ noise and I smiled, watching the lines go by on the road. I turned onto main street and almost slammed on my breaks in shock.

It was deserted; totally devoid of life. Main Street is the center of the Universe for people in our town. It’s never empty like this, even if its raining. That’s how hick our town is – we don’t have a downtown to hang out at, or a movie theatre, or anything cool like that. Nope, we like to spend our time on Main Street, darting between shops and stalls like mice. And for entertainment we count potatoes and pick the lice out of each other’s hair.

“Where is everyone?” Ralph asked. I shrugged and squinted through the windshield. It may have stopped raining, but there was a mist hanging low to the ground and off in the distance. I couldn’t see anything except the sides of the street within 40 feet of my car.

“What the-?” I whispered, hunching over. The car pulled forward at a crawl, and in the distance it looked like smoke was rising up. As we approached, I saw a flicker of flames, and the closer we got the deeper my heart sank into the pits of my stomach.

My heart completley stopped beating when we got to the source of the fire. I couldn’t explain the feeling – it was like pure panic, mixed with the undeniable urge to get the hell out of there as fast as I could.

The ambulance was on its side, a small fire seeping out the front hood of the car.

I stopped my car, locked the doors and swallowed. Time to switch on my masculinity again.

I turned to Ralph. “Stay in the car,” I said, and he nodded. His brows were furrowed and his eyes were wide. He was scared.

I inhaled deeply and unlatched my door, stepping out onto the murky street, into the mist. I didn’t really want to be outside – trust me, I would’ve rather stayed in the car with my brother. But the polite thing to do when you don’t own a cellphone is to see if anyone’s hurt in all that destruction, than scramble around to try and find a payphone.

But there was something different hanging in the air, too, and it wasn’t just the mist. It was like.. the earth stopped turning, like the world was different… Like the world changed. I took a step toward the ambulance, even thought my body and mind was screaming for me not to.

Then I took another step, and it felt like I was just learning how to walk again. I approached the ambulance, tipped on its side with the front crashed into the Hardware store’s window. One of the back doors was open – the one on the ground – and I leaned down to look inside.

Empty.

Of course it was empty, what did I expect to find? I’d have preferred it empty, anyways. What would I do if there was some monster crouched in there, gnawing on the bones of –

Okay, enough of that.

I lifted one of my knees off the ground when something caught my attention. Something was moving in the back, something dark and small, catching the little light there was. It was coming towards me, slowly sliding down to the opening.

I stood, not sure if I wanted to see what it was. While I was trying to decide whether to run screaming or not, I heard a groan.The groan wasn’t human – more like metal creaking. If you’ve seen the Titanic movie, you’ll know what I’m talking about. The part where the boats breaking, with all those groans and creaks? Yeah, that.

I took a step forward and saw some scraps of metal. I took another step, and another, forcing my way through the mist. I turned and could barely see my car anymore. That thought alone made my heart start thumping like crazy.

As I followed the scraps of metal and bits of rubber on the road, I came across another car – it was shittier then mine. Square, white, with a black line running all the way around.

There was a huge dent in the passenger side, and a bloody handmark on the windshield. I figured the ambulance crashed into the car, but what was the bloody handmark doing on the outside of the car?

I peered inside, but no one was there.

“Hello?” I called. Maybe the people in the accident had dragged themselves away and were waiting near by for someone to help. Or they were all dead.

 My voice echoed eerily, bouncing off the empty buildings and ringing back to my ears.

A breeze swept by, pushing my hair into my face amd blocking my view. As I was fighting to keep my hair out of my eyes, I heard a rustle. That sound made me freeze.

It came from my left, from inside the Hardware store. I was stupid for taking a step toward the noise – I had seen enough horror movies to know mysterious noises in a misty or dark setting equaled danger.

If this was a movie, I would’ve expected a murderer to come leaping out of the store and attack me with a chainsaw. What happened was actually close enough, though, if I were the director I never would’ve casted the murderer as blonde girl with a block of plywood instead of a chainsaw.

She leapt out of the door and smacked me in the back of the head with the plywood. My vision went a little cloudy for a second, but in the end her attempt was pretty pathetic.

“Oh snap,” she said, tucking the plywood under her arm. “I wasn’t expecting… a person.”

“Then what the hell were you expecting? Freaking sasquatch?!” I turned to glare at her, rubbing the back of my head. She matched my glare, her eyelids lowering.

“I could clunk you again, y’know.”

“Go ahead, it’s not like its going to do any damage.” Her jaw set and her grip tightened on the wood. I actually thought she was going to start smacking me - and I was mentally preparing my body for the impact - but instead she turned sharply on her heel and headed back in the Hardware store.

I dumbly followed, unsure of what else to do. She was the only lifeform I had found, and I wasn’t going to be left alone without answers.

“You know, there’s a destroyed ambulance out there,” I called out, following her form through the dimly lit store.

“Yeah, I know.” She picked some bandages off a shelf titled ‘Emergency Supplies for Construction at Home,’ then continued.

“We should call 911.”

She spun to look at me again, and I was getting pretty sick of her arrogant glare.

“Hey, you know that ambulance outside?” she asked. ”That was 911. We’re pretty much on our own here, buddy.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say that was snarky enough to match her attitude, so I snapped, “I have a name.”

“That you didn’t grace me with,” she replied. “Nor do I really care to know.” I rolled my eyes and followed her to the back room. She disappeared inside, and I followed suite, surprised to see another blonde – a boy - sitting in the swivel chair by the security cameras, cradling his arm.

“Whose this?” he asked.

“Another stray I picked up. You know how much I love dogs.” The boy looked at me.

“We’re still trying to teach her manners.” He smiled at me, but all I could muster was a quick quirk of the lips.

“Trey,” he said.

“Zach.”

“And this creature here is Arlene.” He reached over and patted her head with his good arm. She didn’t respond to that, just pulled out the bandages and started wrapping the long gash on his arm.

I stood there, watching, until I blurted, “What happened?”

“A car accident,” Arlene responded, “But obviously you weren’t smart enough to put that together.”

“This ambulance came barreling out of no where,” Trey added, “And crashed into us. After we recovered, we checked inside but no one was there.”

“Just blood,” Arlene whispered, tying a little knot in the bandages.

“Blood?” I repeated, my lips stumbling over the words. Trey got up from the chair and nodded.

Then that must’ve been what was moving in the car. A wad of blood must’ve been dripping down the slant of the back.

The thought made me sick, but it also reminded me of my little brother, stuck in my car thinking God knows what.

“So was that your car outside, the white one?”

“Yeah, that was mine,” Trey said, flexing his fingers on his injured arm.

“Do you need a ride?” I asked. Half of the reason I asked was because I honestly felt bad for the two – actually, I only felt bad for the guy. The girl was too obnoxious to have any feelings for – but the other half was that I wanted to trap them somewhere they couldn’t escape so I could ask them questions. Especially about the bloody handmark on the windshield…

Something was happening out there, in the world. That much I was sure, and I was almost 100 percent certain these two knew something about what was going on.

“Why would we want-?” the girl piped up.

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” I snapped, interupting her irritating blabber. She set her jaw again and crossed her arms. I was about to mimick her when Trey spoke.

“Yeah, I’d like to take you up on that offer. But I have to take my pet along,” he pointed over his shoulder at Arlene.

“So that’s what I get for saving your life?” she asked.

“‘Saving my life?’ Hmm, I don’t seem to recall that,” Trey replied, looking down at her. She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, well without me hunting down those bandages your cut could’ve gotten infected, and you could’ve gotten blood poisoning and died…” I tuned out of their conversation, waiting for them to finish. When their conversation droned on for another minute, I tapped my foot, and when that didn’t get their attention I cleared my throat.

Finally, I had to cut in. “I also have a little brother scared to shit in that car, so I’d love if we could hurry up.” They followed me wordlessly outside, passed the ambulance which I didn’t dare to look at, and back to my car.

Ralph was crouched in the backseat, and relief washed over his face when he saw me. I smiled for him, to reassure him everything was okay. 

I pulled the seat back for the two, looking back up at the clouds. It had stopped raining, but the clouds were still black, and more were rolling in.

Nervousness crept into my stomach and I ushered them in faster.

We all squeezed in, with them two in the back and Ralph in the passenger seat. For a while we drove aimlessly, mumbling introductions and such. When the abnormal rain started to patter down, I slowed the speed of the car and exhaled.

“So, why don’t you explain the bloody handprint on your windshield?” I had asked as casually as I could, but even I could hear the edge in my tone.

Trey and Arlene exchanged looks, then she said, “I guess I’ll explain.”

__________________________________________________________________________

• Go To Chapter Five

 Zach

At St. Peter’s, the gym is huge. And I mean huge. If you put a hungry lion in there, you’d have enough space to run around screaming at the top of your lungs and not get caught by the beast. Well, until you get tired. Than you’d be a goner.

The layout was pretty normal: A stage at the back of the gym, than a huge court with all the colourful lines on the floor, a few basketball nets scattered around on the walls and two double doors painted blue that led outside; for the treachorous days when our coach would force us to run laps. Like dogs.

Coach Masterson blew his whistle and I cringed, considering he was standing right beside me. He stopped, than blew into it again. I glared at him. Nothing would give me more pleasure than grabbing that stupid whistle and ramming it somewhere the sun don’t shine.

Peter Mackenzie caught my look and nudged me into the line. When Coach blew his whistle that’s what you had to do – get into a line like the good little child you were. I crossed my arms. Coach blew his whistle and a wad of spit flew out of his disease-infested mouth and through his yellowed teeth, landing right on my chin.

I’ll be honest – I wanted to scream, like a girl. But I kept my composure and flicked it off, pretending it was no big deal. I caught Peter smirking at me and I shot him a glare.

If I was a girl, I would’ve said Peter was my “best friend for like, ever!” But he was probably the only guy in our whole town who’d put up with my crap and not snap. Most people can’t really stand to be around me 24/7… I think. Well, that’s the impression I get. Maybe I’m wrong. Who knows?

“Laps!” Coach yelled in his raspy, cigarette-induced voice. “Outside. Now!” Coach Masterson must have an IQ of 10. He doesn’t really form sentences, I think that’s outside his abilities. He just likes to holler words and occasionally a few will make enough sense for it to be considered ‘communication.’

He’s also got muscles like the freaking Hulk. No one messes with him, no one questions his instructions, either. When we don’t understand something he orders, we just fumble around like idiots and hope what we’re doing is right.

But this time? Everyone paused, hesitating by the doors.

“It’s raining outside,” a girl called, rubbing her bare arms. “And I’m only wearing a tee shirt.”

“Get outside. Now!” Coach yelled, taking quick strides to the door. I imagined him kicking the door down and grabbing each of us by the collar of our shirts to throw us outside.

Instead, he held one of the doors open and peered outside.

“This isn’t rain!” he yelled. My heart thundered a bit – someone else saw the difference, someone else noticed it didn’t look right. Sure, that someone else was a hulking idiot gym teacher, but it was -

“When I was in ‘nam, the rain was the size of your fist!” He clenched his fist to show us, as if we didn’t know. “This is baby rain! It won’t hurt you!”

“I’m not setting outside,” someone said. I didn’t recognize the voice – it sounded hoarse and nasily, like the person was sick.

I glanced over and was shocked to see it was Robert, from math class. Or at least, I think it was Robert. His face looked hollow and pale, his hair was greasy and his eyes were glosses over, like he couldn’t focus his eyes.

“You were all for it in math class,” I said. Everyone looked at me, even Coach. “You practically jumped out the window.”

“Yeah, well now I don’t feel like it,” he snapped. His tone of voice shocked me. Robert was passive and whimpy. He was a nerd. He wasn’t an arrogant ass, like how he was acting.

He walked pver in his glorifying height of 5 feet and glared up at me.

“Is that okay, asshole?” he asked, jamming a boney finger into my chest. I didn’t move, even though it hurt. I think his nail punctured the skin…

Before I could reply, Peter stepped forward and shoved Robert.

“Back off, loser,” he said. Robert stumbled back, than shot forward, shoving Peter with all his might.

And all his might was rather strong, considering Peter fell to the ground three feet away from where he had previously been standing.

“What the hell?” I yelled, taking a step toward Robert. “What’s your problem today?”

“What’s my problem?” he yelled, “My problem is you, and your asshole friend and everyone else in this school. You all deserve to die. All my life I’ve been picked on, but not it’s different, now I’m in charge.”

A guy named Frank started laughing. He rolled his sleeves up, proudly revealing his muscles.

“What are you gonna do?” Frank asked. “Do I have to pummel you so you understand whose in charge?”

Peter was back on his feet by my side. When Robert turned to look at Frank, Peter shoved him. Robert went sailing forward, and Frank shoved him off to the side. I looked around for Coach, and saw he was maliciously watching in entertainment. Sick bastard.

Robert, in a heap on the floor, started breathing heavily. I thought he was having an asthma attack - he had asthma, right? – than I thought he was having a panic attack, than I thought he was going to throw up from being sick.

He did neither.

He got onto his feet and lunged at Frank, wrapping his boney arms around his neck and leaning in. I was about to laugh, when I noticed his fingernails dig into the skin on Frank’s face. Blood oozed out, and I felt sick. Blood made me sick.

Frank was cursing and punching at Robert. People joined in to try and get Robert off, but his grip was tight in Frank’s flesh.

“What the fuck?” Peter whispered. I mentally agreed. The scene going on in front of us was not normal. Robert was like an animal or something. He lowered his head down and even bit Frank, like a freaking vampire.

Coach finally intervened, ripping Robert off and shoving him against a wall. I looked away quickly when I noticed blood dripping out of the corner of his mouth.

Frank collapsed to the floor, groaning in pain as he cupped the bite wound on his neck, and people swarmed around him.

“Did he fucking drink his blood?” Peter whispered. I looked over at Robert, who was struggling to get free from Coach, and breathed in deeply.

“This is retarded,” I replied, shaking my head. “What the hell just happened?” The chaos around Frank caught my attention, and I decided to be a good guy and see if I could lend a hand. 

I jogged over to Frank since he had stepped in to help me, and bent down at his side, trying to examine the damage.

“It stings!” he howled, rolling around on the floor like he was on fire. He clutched at his neck tightly. I saw blood drip through his fingers.

The girls were yelling at him to go to the nurse’s office, and one leaned over and took his hand away from his neck. I nearly barfed at the sight. The flesh around the wound was turning black, like it was rotting, and the puncutre hole looked like it was getting bigger…

I heard a scream and I looked over at Coach. It would’ve been funny to hear him scream like a girl, but when I noticed Robert was biting his hand, and saw more blood, I felt dizzy. Clouds dotted my vision and I backed up.

“I have to get out of here,” I hissed, shaking my head. Peter looked at me.

“Yeah,” he said, patting my shoulder, “You look sick.”

“I feel sick,” I replied, making my way towards the door. Peter followed me to the bathroom and didn’t say anything when I dry-heaved over the sink. I slapped some water on my face and sighed deeply.

“Something’s wrong today,” Peter said after a moment.

“Yeah, like how that Robert guy freaking attacked the two buffiest guys in school?”

“Dude, he was eating their -,”

“Don’t even tell me,” I said, holding my hands up. Peter nodded in agreement, fiddling with the broken hand dryer on the wall.

“Let’s just stay here until the bell rings to go home,” he said. I couldn’t agree fast enough. What I had just witnessed in the gym? It was sick. And wrong. And not human.

And the more I thought about it, the more I thought about the rain, and how it must be connected…

_________________________________________________________________________

• Go To Chapter Four

“It looks like rain,” Trey said… 

 Arlene

“It looks like rain,” Trey said. I bit into the apple I was holding, glancing up at the clouds. They were rolling in quickly from the east.

“Should’ve brought an umbrella,” I murmured through the mush of apple in my mouth. Trey took the apple and rolled it over in his hands, finding a spot that didn’t have my saliva dripped on it, and took a bite. What, did I have cooties?

“Now,” Trey began, passing the apple back, “The thing about you is you never plan ahead. You’re not a thinker, like me.”

“A thinker? Like you? Says the boy whose going to graduate from high school with a 54 percent average.” I tossed the apple over my shoulder into the forest and looked at him. He was shaking his head slowly, a small smile on his lips.

“Naw, see? I plan ahead.” He lifted his hand, revealing he had brought one of those compact umbrellas that you unfold and pop open. He waved it a little too arrogantly, so I snatched it and whacked him in the head.

“Stop being an idiot,” I murmured, throwing the umbrella on his lap. He shrugged, picking it up and looking it over, like I might’ve ripped or ruined it.

“I’m not an idiot,” he said, touching a spot on his umbrella where the wiring popped out, “I’m wise.”

“Wise,” I stated, skaing my head, “You think your wise because you’re 18 and I’m still 17. You know, I’m going to be 18 in 11 months.”

“And by then I’ll be 19,” he said, reaching forward to ruffle my hair. “Aww, is someone being pissy?” he asked when I crossed my arms. I ducked his hand and smacked it away, frowning.

“If you keep this up I’m not going to skip school with you anymore.”

“Ah, than maybe you can finally get an education,” he retorted, getting to his feet and dusting the dirt from his jeans. “And people with better education have better manners, and that’s definatly something that’ll get you far in life.” I socked him in the arm. He dodged, than popped open his umbrella and squinted up at the sky.

I hopped to my feet. Water began to patter down on the grass and I waited, my arms held out wide, for it’s refreshing relief to wash over my skin.

I felt a hand dig into my arm and pull me under the umbrella. Trey held me, squished against his body, his expression dead serious.

“What’s wrong, is the city-boy afraid of a little water?” I smiled when he remained silent. “You know, us kids out here in the bush love when it rains, so you got to let your little pissy grudge against –,”

“Something’s wrong,” he said. I paused and listened quietly. The rain pitter-pattered against the top of his umbrella. I peeked up at the sky. The dark clouds looked intimidating, but not wrong.

“What?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Something.” I made to take a step outside of his umbrella, but he sensed my body shift and his grip tightened.

“Okay, Trey? You’re kind of giving me a bruise here.” He released his grip, his eyes scanning the horizon. I exhaled, saying, “and dude, there’s nothing wrong.” He shook his head, his blonde hair falling in his eyes.

“Well…,” he slipt his arm through mine and forced a smile. Even though it was completely fake, it made me feel better.

Trey Stewart might not be the smartest cookie in the jar, but his almost freakily accurate intuition had saved us on more than one occasion.

Like when we stole from Mr. Herbert’s orchard. We wanted one measley apple from his apple tree, especially since it had been a stiffling hot day, but halfway through climbing over the fence Trey stopped and said we should wait a bit.

This had had been a few years ago, and I, admittedly, was not as smart back then as I am now, so I flipped him off and climbed over. I was going to take three apples and eat them all.

Screw Trey, I thought, he doesn’t get any. Especially if he’s going to chicken out.

Well, Mr. Herbert’s humongously big rottweiler cam barging around the corner and bit me on my ass as I was scrambling back up the fence. Three stitches later, I learned to trust Trey’s intuitiong over my own.

That memory alone made me stay rooted under the umbrella and by Trey’s side. We started crossing the grassy field, taking baby-steps until we got to Trey’s beat-up but reliable car.

He held the umbrella over me as I got in the passenger side, then he walked around and got in the driver’s side. For awhile, we just sat there and stared at the rain. Now that I was concentrating on it, it did look wrong. It looked greasier, and slimey… like, like… like what?

Well, not like rain.

“Arlene,” he said. I looked over at him and saw worry sketched on his face. The rain was just different, that’s all. It probably picked up some massive pollution from the nearest big city, like Calgary or Edmonton. It was nothing to worry about.

I mean, it was just stupid rain.

“Let’s go home,” I blurted. He started the car wordlessly, reversing out onto the old dirt road. He flicked on the windshield wipers, and a lump in my throat formed when the greasy water smeared across the windshield, instead of being flicked off like normal water.

We drove slowly, Trey peering cautiously through the blury windshield as I bit my nails down to the skin.

Trey had only just gotten his G2 license, and he wasn’t even that good of a driver. With the addition of thick, slimey shit on the windshield… Well, excuse me but I think I had enough right to be worried for my life.

We made it back into town and turned down Main Street. Usually, Main Street was bussling with life. People were usually buying food from the grocery store, or visiting one of the five pubs. Today? There was no body.

“Eerie,” Trey remarked. And it was. I had never not seen anybody on Main Street, even with the rain.

Trey pulled his car to the curb outside the grocery store and got his wallet.

“Where are you going?” I hissed. I really wanted to say, Don’t leave me here alone! but that would’ve been the perfect opening for him to insult me.

“I need a few things,” he said, turning to smirk at me. “Is somebody afraid of being left alone?”

“No,” I spat, crossing my arms. He laughed and opened his car door. Since the grocery store had a roof that stuck out over the street, he didn’t grab his umbrella.

“I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Whatever.” He licked his finger and wiped it on my cheek, slamming his door shut before I could lean over and smack him. I heard his laughter as he walked into the store, muffled by the pounding of the rain on the car.

“Stupid boy,” I mumbled, uncrossing my arms. I picked up his collection of CD’s and shuffled through them, laughing at some of them and wondering who some of the artist’s were for others. I stumbled across a CD I had burnt him for last Christmas and a huge smile lit up my face, surprised he still had it.

I opened the case and skimmed over the song titles in my messy handwriting. A few of them had doodles next to them, like a swirly line or a bouquet of flowers. I wondered when he had done them any why – had he been talking on the phone and had just mindlessy doodled, or was he stuck in traffic one day and decided to draw little designs on the CD paper?

I contemplated whether or not to ask him about it when he got back, than decided against it. I placed my CD at the very bottom of his stack and placed it back in its place between the passenger and driver seats.

And that’s when a hand slammed down on the windshield, blood flooding out of an open wound and mixing with the greasy rainwater.

______________________________________________________________________

• Read Chapter Three

I remember the day it happened. I really don’t want to, but I remember it…

Zach

I remember the day it happened. I really don’t want to, but I remember it.

My desk was right next to the window so I spent most of third period math class staring outside, watching those black clouds slowly drift closer to the school. The wind was strong that day, but no body minded. It was the middle of June and things got hot in our little dusty town. We liked the wind and rain, since it was so rare to get any.

My teacher was talking about parabolas, or graphs… or both. I wasn’t really paying attention. Like I said before, parabolas just don’t matter to me. To this day I still don’t know what the hell they’re for. Maybe I never will know, or maybe oneday I’ll google it just to satisfy my curiosity.

Anyway, the teacher was going on about some sort or the other, the kids weren’t listening and I was watching the clouds, counting down the minutes until the rain would hit and relief would wash over the stiffling hot town.

I could almost smell it, too. Mmm… My body heaved a sigh of relief and I dim smile lit my lips. Did I mention how much I loved the rain? If you’re one of those people who hate it, I dare you to live in the dry, humid praries for weeks on end without a cloud in the sky. You’ll be whipping open a book and practising tribal rain dances in less days then I have fingers.

“Mr. DeMarco,” the teacher, Mr. Mathew, said. My gaze darted and caught his. I forced the dumb smile off my face and pretended I was in the middle of copying notes. Than I glanced down and realized my books weren’t even open. Great.

“Yeah?” The class quieted, sensing entertainment brewing. Would the teacher chew me out or would I chew the teacher out. That’s what they were all thinking, I bet. I wasn’t exactly known to have a silent, ‘yes-sir, I’m sorry sir’ attitude.

“Care to enlighten the rest of the class over what I just said?” he asked. I glanced at the board, trying to find a clue about what the hell he was talking about in his chicken-scratch handwriting. It all looked like gibberish to me, so I lifted my shoulders and shrugged.

“Something to do with those loopy do-dads,” I said, gesturing to the almighty parabola on the board. Mr. Mathew’s eyes darkened, and I could almost picture him leaping forward and strangling me. That, or leaning over and patting his chalk creation, whispering, “It’s okay, Parabee, everything will be fine. This insolent child doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

The outcome? Something inbetween my imaginative scenarios. He put his hand on the board and closed his eyes for a moment. I could sense the energy passing between parabola and teacher, like they were becoming one, like their minds were —

“Do you have any idea what a parabola is?” Mr. Mathew asked, taking a step toward me. I wiggled my pencil between my fingers.

“I have an idea, of course I do. I’m just not sure if it’s right.”

“Oh. Is that so?” Mr. Mathew turned to the rest of the class. “Poor Mr. DeMarco. I feel bad that he’ll have to repeat the eleventh grade math coarse if his distasteful attitude keeps playing up.” He turned, his brown eyes darkening. I knew what was coming. Those words that told you they teachers were ultimately disappointed in the scum you had become.
“You have so much potential,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re a bright kid but you’re not working to your full capacity.”

He talked like I was a machine. Just oil me up, boss, and I’ll be good to go, I swear. Don’t send me to the scrap metal yard. That’s what I wanted to say – something witty, something funny, something stupid. But all I could muster was a feeble shrug.

Mr. Mathew gave me a disgusted look and turned back to the board.

“To sum this lesson up, a parabola is -”

“Look at that rain!” someone shouted. I heard a chair scrape and I looked behind me. Some blonde kid with bad acne raced to the window and stuck his head out. “It’s comin’ down pretty hard!”

“Robert, get back in here and shut the window,” Mr. Mathew said, slamming his chalk down. I stared at the teacher, making sure he wasn’t going to lunge forward and drag the kid back in by his ankles. When he stayed still, I turned back to the kid, watching as he lifted onto his toes to get his head wet in the rain.

“Finally!” another person mumbled behind me. “Now my dad won’t make me water the lawn.”

“Robert!” the teacher yelled, taking long strides to the window. The kid was slacked against the glass, and it looked like any moment he was going to fall out the window.

Mr. Mathew grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him into the classroom, slamming the window shut.

“When I say get back in the classroom, I mean it!” he spat. The kid nodded and squirmed, trying to get out of range of the teacher’s fists.

I turned back to the front of the class as Mr. Mathew presumed his lessons. I opened my book like a good little boy and deciphered and copied a few notes off the board. After awhile my gaze drifted back to the window.

Rain. It finally came after weeks of –

I paused and frowned, staring as the wet matter hit the window. Now, I’m not one to question good ol’ H2O, but it looked… it looked…

Odd. Not a good or bad kind of odd, just odd. Like it was off. The raindrops hit the window in big blobs, but the water looked different. It looked gray, and when light hit it the rainbow colour spectrum flashed.

I finally clasped my mind on what it looked like.

Oil. The rain looked like oil.

Was I the only one who noticed?

________________________________________________________

• Read Chapter Two