You and Me against the World: The Creepers Saga Book 1 (34 page)

“Here,” she whispered, “let me show you.”

Kira saw what was required and she sighed.

“I will do it if you want. I owe you that much, Kira,” Dani offered.

“No, I’ll do it. It has to be me.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Dani asked.

“No, it won’t take but a minute, and then I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” Dani said. “The man wanted me to thank you again.”

“You saw him?” Kira asked.

“No, not really, but I heard his voice. Kira, was that God?”

“No, not God; just someone who cares.”

“I don’t understand,” Dani said.

“Me neither, not completely, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll be right back.”

Austin didn’t wait for the others. He shouldered his baseball bat and sprinted across the street with rifle in hand. He made the alley without so much as a single bullet graze. He had to rush. He maintained a good show, but in truth, the fever burned and he felt dizzy. If he didn’t get in the game soon, he feared he would pass out and miss the action. He ran down the short alley, unhappy with the heaviness he felt in his legs. His lungs strained to pull in enough oxygen, but he kept moving. The alley emptied into a larger utility road behind the buildings. He paused for only a few seconds to ensure no one waited there with a gun. The access way was empty. He ran again, and his head pounded with each step.

He reached the garage and decided to cut through it rather than risk using the final alley just beyond. Thankfully, the main doors in front were closed and provided him cover. He jogged across the cement floor and reached the access door on the building’s far side. He pulled it open a crack and peered out. Bart and company were about twenty feet from his position. He could kill most of them from the doorway. He checked his rifle and prepared to fire.

A few feet away from Bart stood Mustache Mike. Mike who had punched him in the ribs. Mike who believed he could get away with helping Bart beat on his brother. Mike who had smiled when he shot Adam. Anger boiled up inside Austin. Controlling his temper had never been his strong suit, but this felt different. This rage threatened to turn the world red. The source was not just revenge or that Mike deserved to face justice. This was a feeling of red-hot hate. An instinctual call that his single mission in life was to shred the man into pieces. It felt like he and Mike were mortal enemies, as if they had always been enemies, as if the balance of the world was established only when one killed the other.

Mike stood there completely unaware of the violence that stalked just a few yards away. Austin put his rifle down. A voice inside screamed at him. It yelled to stay where he was and use the gun. Another voice hissed back. It didn’t speak in words, but the intent was clear all the same. It wanted him to hunt, it wanted him to kill, and it liked the vision of the baseball bat tearing through the group of weak, disgusting cowards. Austin liked that vision too. He took his bat in one hand. His fever still burned, but now it felt like fuel instead of sickness. He slid the door open a foot and slipped through. Austin crouched down just outside the door. His instincts and senses felt renewed and almost supernatural. The distance was so easy to calculate, his planned trajectory shown in clear, brilliant light, and his vision was sharp and focused. The world around him slowed and the sounds hushed. He sprung forward on powerful legs.

The darkness returned; and with it, a searing pain. Kira felt the pavement beneath her face. She felt the knife buried high on her back. She heard the gunfire and the voices. She reached behind her shoulder and found the knife. She pulled it from her back, and the intense pain almost sent her away again, but she held on. The darkness faded and she saw light. Her vision was blurred, but she saw the man a few yards from her. He stood with the pole in hand, struggling to control the Creeper. She looked to her left and saw Bart’s legs. She was tempted to stand and slit his throat, but that was not the plan.

She pushed herself from the ground and prayed her legs would support her. They did, and with knife in hand, she stumbled toward the man with the pole. He didn’t notice her at first; no one noticed her, as they were too busy. Her false vision cleared a bit. The man was only a few feet away. He turned and saw her. His face registered his confusion, as he looked at the blind, dead girl staggering forward. He looked down at her knife. He did what she had already seen him do. He dropped the pole to defend against the knife. It was too late. The knife came up quick, and it slit his throat. His hands grabbed at the fatal wound instinctively, and then he fell dead. Kira took a few more steps and then sat down on the cement.

Please
, she prayed,
just let me watch so that I know that it is done.

Her prayer was answered, and then she slipped back to the warm field and found Dani.

The plan to flank Bart’s team didn’t happen. Golden’s noisy entrance brought Annie and Brad back to the front. Devin began to lay out the new plan when a high-pitched scream came from Bart’s end of the street. They risked the bullets and looked around the SUVs.

The Creeper was loose, and it had grabbed hold of a man with a crew cut. It tore the man’s throat out and then rushed toward the next man. That man was Bart. He backed up, trying to get away from the infected creature. Bart stumbled into a man with a large mustache. In Mustache Mike’s own panicked attempt to keep the Creeper at bay, he grabbed on to Bart and held him like a shield. Bart struggled to free himself, but the Creeper came too fast. It reached Bart and tore him from Mike’s grip. Bart and the Creeper went to the ground. The Creeper tore into Bart. It ripped away large chunks of flesh. Bart’s screams were satisfactory to the people behind the Tahoe.

“Now!” Devin yelled, and the group ran forward as Bart’s congregation ran toward them in their panicked escape.

If the fleeing men and women had dropped their guns or if they had signaled their intent to surrender, it may have ended differently. That, however, was not the case. When a man raised his rifle at Brandon, the group’s guns fired. Bart’s congregation fired back. Bart was correct. Most were a terrible shot, none was as practiced as the young survivors were, and quite a few couldn’t have hit water if they fell from a boat. The majority of the congregation were shot and killed. A few broke to the left and to the right and went for cover, throwing their weapons as they ran. The young team never shot an unarmed person throughout the entire battle. None of Bart’s people who attempted to hold their own, however, survived.

Mustache Mike ran when the Creeper got Bart. It was a short escape. He ran into Austin. Mike pleaded and begged for mercy. Austin’s cold eyes conceded that none would be given. Austin grabbed Mike’s large, bushy mustache and tore it from his face. Most of Mike’s upper lip came with it. Austin’s bat split his skull in a single swing. The other swings broke many bones, but Mike was already dead.

Devin watched his brother’s attack. He witnessed the fury, and a deep concern knotted his stomach. His brother could be a hothead, but he was not willfully violent. The bat came down repeatedly on Mike’s dead body. Devin’s concern abated when the Creeper finished its meal and turned toward Austin. Austin saw it, but he did not attempt to fight or flee. Instead, he just stood and stared at it. His bat remained at his side. The Creeper did not charge; it rocked back and forth and then it screamed, but it still did not advance. Austin stood stone still and waited. Devin looked down at his shotgun. It wasn’t effective at this range, so he couldn’t kill the Creeper before it attacked his brother. He turned to Nick, who held a rifle.

“Nick, kill that thing,” he said and pointed at the Creeper.

Devin wasn’t certain if anyone else witnessed what he saw, but in the moments before Nick shot the Creeper, Austin hissed and the Creeper actually took a step back.

Fear
, Devin thought.
It’s afraid of Austin
.

Nick’s bullet took it in the head and the Creeper collapsed.

Austin stood for a minute longer; he began to cough violently, and then he collapsed too.

When Devin reached him, blood ran from his brother’s mouth and his breathing was raspy and shallow.

“Pick him up,” Devin said. “Get him to Dr. Thorn.”

Brandon saw the blood.

“Is he shot?” he asked.

“No, it must be internal bleeding from that punch he took to the ribs,” Devin answered.

Brandon gave his friend a single nod, but his expression showed skepticism.

“Okay, bro, but remember, I’m on your team. The truth won’t change that.” He paused for a moment and considered his next words. “A lack of honesty, my friend, might.”

Devin nodded in return and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I know, but later, okay? We’ve got a lot to do, and I want the hell out of here.”

Uninvited guests

Brandon and Nick remained vigilant. Not the entire congregation had participated in the attempt on their lives, but those who had, had mixed with those who had not, and they could no longer be separated. People peered out at them through windows, but there were no further attempts to interfere with the group’s departure. Dead congregation members littered the street. The team was too occupied attending to their wounded, calming the children, and loading supplies to worry over the dead bodies of would-be killers.

A woman, who had once baked them the best apple pie they had ever tasted, came outside and approached Brandon and Nick. She tried to smile, but it faded under the contemptuous looks of the two young men.

“I … I know I have no right to ask, but would it be all right if we buried our loved ones?”

Brandon stared at her. His eyes were icy and cold.

“You can do that after we’re gone. Tell the rest of them that anyone comes outside, and they join their friends there in the street.”

The woman sobbed and then scurried back to her doorway. She looked back several times, fearful that they might decide to kill her anyway.

“That’s cold, dude,” Nick said, but his words lacked any real emotion.

“Fuck ’em,” Brandon replied.

Three former residents were honored with a proper burial. Brad, Golden, and Annie took shovels from the garage and Brad respectfully carried Pam’s severed head in a towel. They had found Pam’s body in the woods. They buried Bob, Pam, and Kira beyond the walls of the fort, in a small grassy clearing in the woods. They constructed makeshift head stones for their deceased friends and each gave a silent prayer. Annie added a second stone marker to Kira’s grave.