Fatal Reaction, Battle of the Hunted Page 8

“I don’t see them,” he said, worried about his sister. Bella was in the SUV with Ellie.

  “Where do I go?” Aaron asked, unfamiliar with the area.

  Jorge pointed straight ahead. “Go down to Mission, and then turn right. Might be better.” Again, he peered out the back window for any sign of the SUV. The fog was obscuring his view. He looked for headlights. “I have a bad feeling.”

  Aaron didn’t say anything. He turned right at the useless stoplight that was flashing red. This time he was careful not to take the corner too quickly. The last thing they needed was to crash the truck. He crept down the two-lane street, making his way around a few abandoned cars in the right lane. One of the cars, a black Mercedes, was at a crosswalk. The driver’s side door h left open.

  “Why would people just leave their cars? I mean, at least pull over to the sidewalk and then leave them. I don’t get it.”

  Jorge shrugged. “People are stupid.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Aaron said, slowly driving around the Mercedes. He then noticed dried blood all over the windshield and the window to the driver’s side door shattered.

  Jorge also noticed the blood and cringed. “Guess they had a good reason.”

  “Yeah,” Aaron agreed, wondering what had happened to the driver. A few feet ahead were dead bodies strewn across the asphalt. There was no way around them. He stopped the truck. The thought of driving over the bodies turned his stomach. “Guess our new visitors haven’t gotten around to cleaning up the bodies over here.”

  Earlier in the day, they’d witnessed the first aliens that had arrived in the silver ships, cleaning up the dead bodies. They’d been walking around the apartment complex across from Ellie’s condo, using some sort of ray gun to reduce the bodies to ash. They assumed the aliens were making the area habitable. They’d also witnessed the same thing in the Commissary parking lot on base until the other ship arrived. That’s when what appeared to be a war broke out. Aaron wasn’t sure what was going on. However, it appeared that the first aliens didn’t mean them any harm. But these new ones were creepier than hell. It was as if they stepped right out of a horror movie.

  “The pier is another block down and then over that way.” Jorge pointed. “We’re almost there.”

  “Is there another way around?”

  “You can back up and try to go around the block…”

  Again, Aaron threw the truck into reverse. He backed up until his tail end was near the Mercedes, and then made a sharp right turn. He drove a couple of feet and stomped on the brakes. His stomach lurched into his throat. Bodies in all stages of decomposition were strewn everywhere; on the street, sidewalks and inside various cars. It looked like a massacre had occurred. “Shit! What now?”

  “I don’t know.” Jorge grimaced. “We drive over them.”

  Forcing the bile down, Aaron put the truck into drive and slowly began to roll forward, feeling the lumps beneath the tires crunch and squish as they slowly forged ahead.

  Lifting the bottom of his T-shirt, Jorge covered his nose with the cotton fabric to try to filter out the sour smell of decay. “Turn left,” he coughed. “The pier is straight ahead.”

  Not able to speak because he was afraid he’d vomit, Aaron nodded and turned left. Relieved when he saw the opening to the pier, he pulled his truck up in front of the entrance. He thanked the Lord that there were no bodies where he parked, or near the restaurant across from the pier. He wanted to open the door and head for the beach, desperate for fresh air, but at the same time, he was feeling too frightened by what was lurking about in the night.

  “I’m gonna puke,” Jorge said with his shirt still over his nose. He began to gag.

  “Roll down the window!” Aaron snapped.

  “I can’t!”

  “Don’t puke in here!”

  Aaron pushed all the buttons on his door, rolling down both the driver’s side window and the passenger side window. The last thing he needed was to be driving around with puke in the truck. The nasty scent of decay was already etched into his senses. He didn’t want to be breathing in barf too.

  Jorge leaned over, head out the window, and heaved his guts out. Aaron could hear the vomit hitting the pavement, and his stomach lurched. He was going to lose it. Flinging open his door, pushing his fears aside, he stumbled out of the truck. Head spinning, stomach convulsing, he wanted to get down to the beach. Eyeing the cement stairs to the left of the pier, he headed towards them. There was an outdoor coliseum on his left and the pier on his right.

  “Dude!” Jorge called after him. “Where are you going?”

  Ignoring him, Aaron continued down the stairs two at a time. He was running down them so quickly he almost fell headfirst. Grabbing hold of the railing, he steadied himself as he ran down the stairs. The sound of the waves below was calming, familiar, and safe. He needed that normalcy. He needed that escape, if only for a moment. The air was fresh, clean, and free from the scent of death. It felt cool on his skin.

  When he reached the pavement below, he ran past the empty closed up ice cream shops, lemonade stands, and small cafes. Crossing the street that ran along the beach, he stumbled into the sand. He passed a little playground and park with swings and slides, planted in the sand and headed towards the waves. His eyes clouded up with tears. Realization struck him that the swings may never get used again. When he was a kid, his mother would take him to the park. He and his brother loved the swings. They would have contests to see who could swing the highest and then launch themselves off the swing in midair to see how far they could fly. Now, here he was, stuck in San Diego, with no way to contact his family. He hadn’t a clue whether or not his mom and brother had survived the infection. Soon, he’d try to venture north, and get back home to Sacramento. He wouldn’t be able to continue living without knowing whether or not they were alive.

  Close to the water, he plopped down into the cold sand, leaned back and closed his eyes. He breathed in the fresh sea air and felt lightheaded.

  “Hey!” Jorge plunged through the sand in his direction. “Dude! You can’t just take off like that. So not cool! What if Ellie and the girls show up and we’re not up there? They’ll freak!”

  Aaron didn’t answer him. He closed his eyes and listened to the waves. Jorge plopped down in the sand next to him. The boys sat there in silence for what seemed like an eternity when a shrill cry for help snapped them out of their stupor.

  Bolting into an upright position, Aaron stared at the pier to their right. More screams could be heard. Jorge stood up, and Aaron struggled to get to his feet. He hadn’t realized just how fatigued he was until he’d closed his eyes.

  “I think it’s coming from the other side of the pier,” Jorge said.

  Aaron took off in the direction of the screams.

  “Aaron,” Jorge yelled following him. “I don’t think we should go without weapons.”

  Aaron reached into his back pocket and pulled out a switchblade. They were standing near a light post at the edge of the beach. Only a few of them were still in working order.

  Jorge frowned and shook his head. “Homey, these are freakin’ aliens. Not sure that blade will do shit to one of them dudes. You saw them, right?”

  They were back on the pavement walking briskly under the pier to get to the beach on the other side.

  “Got a better idea?” Aaron asked.

  “Yeah, get our asses back to the truck,” Jorge said. “You’re fuckin’ loco, man. What’s gotten into you? I thought you were the practical one.”

  Aaron actually agreed with him. He wasn’t sure what the hell had gotten into him. They should head back to the truck and wait for the others. That would be the logical thing to do, but for some reason, he felt compelled to at least attempt to help whoever was screaming. There weren’t very many people left alive. If he’d learned anything at all from Ellie and Mike, it was that the survivors needed to stick together. Even if it was a member of the biker gang, The Crusaders, or a member of the la Muerte, at this point, they all
needed to pull together against this new alien threat. If they didn’t, the Earth was doomed.

  Up ahead, Aaron spotted a bonfire in one of the fire pits on the beach. Jorge followed his gaze to the fire. There was a gentle breeze flickering the flames and pushing out the fog. It was clear in spots and dense in others.

  There was another scream and then a man’s voice bellowing. The voice was barely audible over the sound of the crashing waves.

  Jorge leaned over and grabbed a large rock. He tossed it and picked up another and another until he found one suitable to use as a weapon. On this side of the pier, the beach was filled with rocks that’d washed up on the shore. Normally the beach was dredged to keep the rocks from piling up and the sand usable for sunbathers.

  Looking up, Jorge noticed that Aaron was now way ahead of him. He could barely see him through the fog. Jorge picked up his pace, finding it hard to move swiftly through the rocks and sand. He could see Aaron standing in front of the fire pit. As Jorge got closer to the fire, he noticed another man crouched in the sand bellowing loudly.

  Jorge wondered if the man had been homeless prior to the virus. He thought he’d recognized him as one of the locals that he’d seen on several occasions sleeping on the beach.

  “He took her! He took her!” he cried. “Gone! Gone!”

  As Jorge approached Aaron and the man, he could smell the unmistakable scent of alcohol.

  “Took who?” Aaron asked.

  “Her… her! She’s gone! Her!” The man tucked his knees to his chest and began to rock back and forth. “Gone! All gone…”

  “Which way?” Aaron asked. “Where did they go?”

  The man babbled incoherently. “Too late… too late… gone…”

  “Which way?” Aaron raised his voice.

  Jorge walked around the fire and noticed what looked like drag marks in the sand. “Aaron!” He waved him over.

  Aaron joined him and noticed the smooth, thick indentations in the sand. It was as if a body had been dragged through it. Immediately, he followed the trail that quickly disappeared as they moved farther away from the light of the fire.

  “Shit!” Jorge cursed. “Can’t see shit no more, homey.”

  Just then, another cry rang out, and Aaron took off running in the direction of the screaming. Jorge followed, clutching the jagged rock in his hands.

  The unmistakable sound of growling and the iron-rich scent of blood wafted on the cool night’s air. Aaron slowed down his pace to gather his bearings. The ocean breeze was pushing out the fog, and from time to time leaving clear spots where the moon lit up the beach.

  “The infected?” Aaron asked, switching the blade open again.

  “I don’t know,” Jorge answered, voice slightly trembling.

  Aaron took a few steps forward when Jorge grabbed hold of his arm, stopping him. At first, Aaron was annoyed at the tugging until he saw it. It wasn’t an infected human making those sounds. It was one of the new aliens. Like the ones they’d seen on base at the restaurant.

  The creature, growling fiercely, was hunched over a dark-haired, heavy-set, middle-aged woman.

  Aaron watched as the alien raked its long, metallic, razor-sharp claws over the woman’s bare midsection, slicing her open. Dark red blood oozed from the fresh incisions and ran down the sides of her abdomen, soaking into the sand beneath her. Scooping out her intestines, the alien held them up for examination before shoveling them into his mouth. The woman was still alive, sobbing hysterically as the creature devoured her insides. It was as if the alien had somehow paralyzed her, so she couldn’t fight him or run away while he devoured her alive.

  “Oh shit!” Jorge said. “She’s still alive!”

  Losing it, Aaron keeled over and vomited in the sand. His uncontrollable heaving alerted the alien to their presence.

  Golden glowing eyes glared at them from over its prey.

  “Help me,” the woman sobbed. “Help me…”

  Aaron wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and clutched the handle of his switchblade. He was too afraid to move.

  “What do we do now?” Jorge whispered, holding his jagged rock.

  “I don’t know.”

  Loud growling resonated from within the alien’s chest as it watched them. It shoveled more intestines into its mouth, savagely tearing them with its pointed teeth. Just then, another alien appeared from a thick pocket of fog and pounced on the one that was feeding.

  “What the…?” Startled, Jorge dropped his makeshift weapon.

  “Run!” Aaron said, deciding to use the distraction to their advantage, sprinting in the direction of the fire pit.

  Jorge didn’t argue with the decision but was worried about the woman. “What about… her?” he asked, winded, trying to keep up with Aaron.

  “There’s nothing we can do. Just keep running.”

  Aaron hoped that the other alien hadn’t been aware of their presence and was too focused on fighting over the other alien’s prey to notice them. He worried that their squabble wouldn’t last long and soon the aliens would come after them.

  “Hey!” Aaron yelled, breathless, as they approached the homeless man still rocking by the fire. “Hey, come on! You gotta come with us!” Aaron bent at the knees and panted, trying to catch his breath.

  The man ignored them and continued to babble incoherently.

  “Get up!” Aaron said as he reached down and tugged on the man’s arm. “Come with us. We’ll keep you safe.”

  “Gone… she’s gone…” he cried, rocking back and forth in the sand. “God’s wrath... Gone… Everyone’s gone… She’s gone. All gone.”

  Jorge nervously watched the beach behind them. He worried that they were wasting too much time. He didn’t want those alien creatures to catch up to them. “He’s too wasted,” Jorge said, kicking an empty bottle of Jack Daniels sitting in the sand near the fire.

  “Come on,” Aaron said. “We don’t have much time. I need you to get up. Hurry!”

  The unmistakable sound of growling appeared from the fog. It could barely be heard over the crashing waves.

  “They’re coming!” Jorge panicked.

  Aaron stopped for a split second and listened. The growls were growing louder.

  “Sir,” he pleaded with the man. “Please, don’t make me leave you here. I want to help you.”

  The man stopped rocking as the growls became louder. His eyes grew large. “The devil,” he said, voice quavering. “Death has come for me!”

  “No,” Aaron said. “We’ll protect you. Get up!”

  The man stumbled to his feet. “The darkness is afraid of the light,” he said. “I will protect you with fire!”

  “He’s not in his right mind,” Jorge whispered. “We need to get the hell out of here!”

  As much as Aaron wanted to save the man, he worried that he was fighting a losing battle. “Please, sir. Listen to me.”

  “Jeremiah,” the man said.

  “Come with us, Jeremiah.”

  Jeremiah teetered on unstable legs. He wobbled near the firepit, and Aaron was afraid he’d fall in. Clearing his throat, Jeremiah turned, facing the direction of the aliens and began to quote Scripture.

  “And the beast was taken, and with him the false prophet that wrought miracles before him, with which he deceived them that had received the mark of the beast, and then worshipped his image. These both were cast alive into a lake of fire burning with brimstone!”

  “Come on, man!” Jorge pleaded. He was tired of Aaron trying to reason with the guy. He grabbed hold of Jeremiah’s arm. “We need to get the hell out of here! And you’re coming with us!”

  Jeremiah stopped quoting scripture and stared at Jorge as if he was confused. “We need more wood for the fire,” he said and shook his arm free of Jorge’s grasp. He leaned over to grab a large piece of driftwood from the sand to throw on the fire.

  Whoosh! From out of the fog, one of the alien creatures pounced on Jeremiah and knocked Jorge over into the sand. Aaron was on
the other side of the fire pit.

  Jeremiah bellowed out in pain.

  As Jorge scrambled to his feet, he noticed that Jeremiah had fallen into the fire.

  Aaron yelled to Jeremiah, “The water! Run into the ocean! The ocean!”

  Instead, Jeremiah, clothing ablaze, stumbled out of the fire and just stood there.

  The alien that had attacked him kept a safe distance while continuing to growl. Jorge could see the glowing yellow eyes glaring at them. The fog was beginning to thin, and he could clearly see the alien crouch as if getting ready to attack, but it didn’t.

  Jorge wondered if that was fear he saw in the glowing yellow eyes. The black reptilian pupils elongated.

  Jeremiah flailed his arms and then charged at the monster while screaming at the top of his lungs. The alien seemed confused. It took a few awkward steps backward and then swung its arm, clawing the air threateningly at the flaming man that was hurtling towards it. The creature screamed out in agony as Jeremiah threw himself at it. High shrieking sounds echoed from the creature as its dark garbs caught on fire.

  Quickly, the creature retreated into the fog and Jeremiah landed face first in the sand.

  “Hurry! Hurry!” Aaron ran to Jeremiah and grabbed an arm. Jorge followed suit and grabbed his other arm. A good portion of the flames had already been doused when Jeremiah hit the sand.

  Aaron and Jorge flipped the man over and dragged him to the water. The waves rolled up and immediately put out the rest of the flames.

  “Why’d you do that?” Aaron asked, pulling Jeremiah further up the beach out of the waves.

  “They don’t like fire,” Jeremiah laughed. “Or the water.”

  Aaron looked wearily over his shoulder. The aliens hadn’t pursued them.

  “How’d you know that?” Jorge asked.

  “I may be an old drunk,” Jeremiah chuckled. “But I know a thing or two…”

  “No. I don’t buy it.” Aaron kneeled down next to him in the sand. “How’d you know?”

  Jeremiah cleared his throat. “I can hear them…”

  “Hear them?”

  “In my head. They don’t speak with words. I feel them. I could feel their fear of the ocean. So Marie and I set up camp on the beach. And then, I felt their fear of the fire. They’re here to feed.”