Chapter 3
Claire ran into the forest. Her brother was chasing her. He had almost caught up to her too. She made her way quickly through the trees. The branches and leaves scratched at her face.
She could hear him screaming behind her. He was getting closer.
Claire kept running. She was getting tired. She had been running for a long time now. Ever since
…
when?
When her father had charged into the living room and attacked her mother.
*
They were watching the television - Claire and her mother. There was something on about trouble in the city. People were attacking each other
,
killing each other
.
Even the news reporter seemed affected by it. He charged at the cameraman. The cameraman ran. The screen turned black.
Claire stared at the television for a moment before turning to her mother. Her mouth opened slightly to speak.
Then she heard a scream.
Claire looked in the direction it had come from. She could see that her father had come into the room, fists above his head, eyes searching. She didn't have any time to react.
As soon as he saw them, her father ran straight for her mother and grabbed her by the throat. He started shaking her. Scratched large cuts into her face. Threw her onto the floor.
Her mothe
r
.
Claire knew immediately what had happened. Whatever had happened to the reporter had happened to her father. She was positive about that.
Without thinking any more about it, Claire ran to her father and jumped on his back. She tried to pull him away from her mother. He easily swatted her off. She fell heavily to the floor.
Claire didn't give up. She got back onto her feet and picked up a lamp beside the sofa.
"Let her go!" she screamed. She knew that it wasn't going to make a difference. Her father wasn't going to listen to her.
This wasn't her father. Not anymore.
She ran at the man with the lamp raised over her head and brought it down on his. There was a loud crack as it connected with his skull and he was knocked down.
It hadn't been enough to stop him. He scrambled back onto his knees and went after her mother again.
Claire looked at her mother over the back of his shoulder. She could see that her mother was frightened, didn't have any idea what was going on. One minute she had been watching television with her daughter. The next she had been attacked by the man she had been married to for twenty plus years. Claire couldn't imagine what the woman was thinking. She didn't try to, either. She simply raised the lamp once more and slammed it back against her father's head. This time with more force.
There was another dull thud. Louder than the first one. Her father collapsed to the floor.
No, this wasn't her father.
Claire bent down to see if her mother was okay. She put her arm behind her and tried to lift her up. Her mother wouldn't move.
"Your father," was all she could say.
"That wasn't dad," Claire replied. "I don't know who it was, but i
t
wasn'
t
dad!"
"Your…your…father."
"No, mom, that wasn't dad. And we can't stay here talking about it. We have to leave. We have to find a place to hide."
"What…what…happened?"
"The thing we saw on TV. It must've happened here too. Maybe it happened everywhere."
"On TV?"
"From the news. The thing that had been happening in the city. People going crazy, killing each other. It must've happened here too."
"It did?"
"I think so."
"It was your father," Claire's mother argued again. She was obviously having trouble making sense of it all.
"I know. H
e
was
.
Not anymore. Whatever it is must've affected him."
Claire's mother moved her eyes away from her daughter. She looked at her husband. He was lying lifeless on the floor.
"Did you kill him?" she asked.
Claire looked down at her father as well. "I don't know. But I didn't have a choice. He was going to kill you."
"He was your father."
Claire didn't want to get into an argument with her mother. Not now. Not over this. She knew that her father had changed, that he had been going to beat her mother
-
his wif
e
- to death. Claire had stopped that from happening. That was all.
"We have to get out of here," Claire said. "We have to find somewhere safe to hide."
"But your father!"
"He isn't my father anymore!" Claire all but screamed. "He's changed. Don't you understand that?"
"No, no, no! He hasn't changed. He's your father. I'm sure he'll be all right."
Claire grabbed tightly onto her mother's shoulders. "He won't be all right. And we won't either unless we get out of here!"
"We can't leave," her mother continued to say. "We just can't."
"We have to! We have to find somewhere safe!"
Claire pulled at her mother to get her to stand. Her mother brushed her off.
"No, no, no."
Claire stood up. She continued to pull at her mother, at her arms, at her clothes. The woman wouldn't move. She continued to sit there, arguing with her.
"Everything will be okay. This must be some kind of a mistake."
"Whatever it is, we have to go!"
She pulled again. This time her mother hit Claire's hands away.
"No! This is your father
.
My husban
d
. We can't just leave. We won't. W
e
won'
t
!"
Claire didn't know what to do. She wanted to slap her mother out of it
.
That's what they did in the movie
s
. But she would never be able to hit her mother, even if the woma
n
wa
s
being ridiculous.
She bent down again and looked her mother in the eyes. It had been difficult to do. Her mother kept looking around the room, focusing on the television (the screen that had turned black) and then her husband (still motionless beside her
,
maybe dea
d
). Claire put her hands on her mother's cheeks and directed the woman's distressed face directly in front of her own.
"Listen to me, mother," she said with a growing urgency in her voice. "We have to go. Something has happened. Something..."
She had heard a noise come from behind her. Claire turned around and saw her brother, Peter, standing in the doorway. He looked angry. Claire knew immediately that he had also been affected.
"Get up now!"
She shook her mother. The woman had seen her son.
"It's your brother, Claire. He's come to help us. He's..."
Claire's brother let out a huge roar. Then he gritted his teeth and began swinging his arms wildly in every direction.
Claire tried pulling her mother up once more. She knew that her mother wasn't going to move.
"Please, mom," she tried again, pleading. "Come with me."
It was too late.
Claire's brother charged into the room and attacked the two women. Claire had been able to move away. Her mother didn't even try. Instead, she put out her arms as though to embrace her son. Claire saw a smile on her mother's face as her brother pounced.
"Come here, Peter," her mother said softly. "Everything's okay now. Come here."
Claire's brother ran quickly and fell into his mother's embrace. But it hadn't been to hold his mother or return the affection. It had been to attack.
Claire watched as her brother opened his mouth and bit deeply into their mother's neck. The mother didn't seem to mind. She kept smiling as her son ripped out her veins. Blood spattered against the mother and son. He continued to bite.
Claire ran out of the room. It had been too late to do anything for her mother this time. The woman was dead. Her brother had killed her.
She quickly made her way down the hallway and ran out of the house. Not knowing where she was going. Not caring.
Without thinking, she slammed the door behind her. It had been that sound which had gotten her brother's attention. She kept looking over her shoulder, back at the house.
Within seconds, the back door opened. Peter was standing there, covered in blood
-
their mother's bloo
d
.
Claire turned around and continued to run. Her brother quickly followed.
*
Now she was deep into the forest. She didn't know where she was headed, but she had to keep going. Her mind was racing. She needed to think about what to do next. She couldn't keep this up much longer.
She ran through the trees. Nearly tripped. Managed to keep her balance.
Her brother screamed. He was getting closer.
Where could she go?
Immediately, she thought of the gas station out by the highway. It wasn't too far away. If she could get there, she may be able to get inside and lock her brother out. It was the best plan.
It was th
e
onl
y
pla
n
.
Claire slightly changed her direction to head toward the gas station. She hoped that she might be able to lose her brother before she got there, even though she didn't think it was likely. She could hear him still behind her.
She ran.
The minutes passed slowly. She was starting to lose her breath. She could feel her heartbeat pounding heavily in her chest.
A tree branch scraped across her face. It just missed her eye, but cut her deeply nonetheless.
She kept running.
Another branch scratched her face. Then another.
She couldn't stop.
Her brother was closer now. She could hear his breathing. It sounded like panting. Like a vicious dog.
When she came into a clearing, she could see the gas station right in front of her. She only had a little further to go.
She ran. Her brother followed.
She looked over her shoulder and saw him run out of the forest. Then she turned back to the gas station.
As she came upon it, she could feel her hopes rising. She was almost there. Almost safe.
She ran faster, her feet on gravel now. She could hear it crunch underneath her weight. She needed to get to the front door.
She rounded the corner. But, as she did, her feet slipped on some gravel and she fell heavily onto the ground. The whole of her weight came crashing to the ground. She skidded to a stop.
It was then that her brother came back into view. He was only a short distance away.
She tried to push herself up, but was too weak. She had hurt herself too badly. She was too exhausted.
Her brother came closer. She could see the blood spattered across his face. She could see his teeth, hear him growling. She could see the anger in his eyes.
He screamed again and raised his fists into the air. She knew that he was going to pounce. And there wasn't much she could do about it. She wasn't going to get away.
She wasn't going to give up either. She'd fight him. No matter how hopeless it would be.
Claire got onto her back and propped herself up on her elbows. She tried to scurry a little way back, knowing that it wouldn't help much.
Her brother came upon her. Running. Hands raised. Screaming.
Then there was a sound. A loud crack.
Claire didn't know where it came from or what it was, but she saw her brother fall down and come to a stop a few feet in front of her. Half of his face was missing.
Claire tried to regain her breathing. She still didn't know what had happened.
She head footsteps and turned around to see where they were coming from
-
wh
o
they were coming from. Standing there was a big man with a shotgun slung over his shoulder.
"He almost got you," the man said.
Claire couldn't respond. She was still trying to register all that happened.
"You're lucky I was here to shoot him," the man continued.
Claire kept looking at him.
"My brother," was all she managed to say.
"What's that?"
"He was my brother."
"Well, don't that beat the fuck out of all hell," the man said. "Your brother! Anyway, he wasn't your brother when I shot 'em. He was one of those fucked up freaks. He was gonna kill you, you know?"