Authors: David Dunwoody
Rafe saw silhouettes rising on the rooftops, saw claws splaying to capture the sunrise - then the things began to scramble down the sides of the buildings.
He ran. He ran and ran and ran, pumping his legs like pistons, every muscle in his lower body on fire, the world shaking violently around him as he surged through the streets of Fevgos. He heard feet scrambling behind him and claws raking over cobblestones. Shadows jumped from building to building overhead. Rafe turned onto a street that sloped downwards, toward the beach, and put everything he had into his sprint. He felt that any second he was going to take a tumble and break his neck. He didn’t care.
Leaping onto the hood of a car, Rafe cleared the vehicle with one jump and heard the creatures scrabbling over it. He’d gained maybe half a second by putting the car between them and himself. But he needed it.
He was nearing the end of the street, where it intersected with Fevgos’ main thoroughfare. Sucking air into his searing lungs, Rafe jumped up onto a porch and used his momentum to hit the railing and propel himself into the air, over the street-
And he soared over the heads of two creatures who’d been waiting just around the corner.
Rafe struck the street and pain knifed through his right foot. He pushed on, gritting his teeth as he felt the pain spreading, not caring that it hurt but knowing that he was beginning to slow down, just as he was reaching the beach, just a short sprint from the marina.
He chanced a look back over his shoulder.
There were at least three dozen of them at his heels. They weren’t winded in the slightest. They were gaining on him.
He raced across the sand. There was something up ahead, a body, lying in a muddy paste of earth and blood. It was headless, but it was Abe.
Rafe looked toward the marina and saw Erika scrambling up a fence. A creature struck out at her, just below the knees, and her legs came off like broken toothpicks. She fell into the creature’s arms.
Then he ran into something, and he found himself unable to move, the burning in his legs spreading up into his gut, ears ringing. He looked down and saw five glassy claws skewering his belly.
The creature jerked its fingers free, and Rafe fell into the sand. It was cold against his cheek.
Your dreams are beautiful. You don’t know, couldn’t begin to understand. The hunger...
The creature straddled his back and raked its claws over the back of his head. He felt his scalp being peeled away.
The others ran past him, toward the marina. He heard a distant scream. He wondered what dark dreams Peter’s mind would yield.
You’ll be free soon enough. You and your sweet dreams.
Sweet dreams.
What in dreams was so beautiful that it wrought such horror? What had Man taken for granted all these many years? Rafe closed his eyes, ignoring a distant tugging at his skull, and tried to recall the last dream he’d had before this all began.
He caught a sliver of memory, tried to wrap his mind around it, like a mother sheltering her child - but it was taken from him, along with everything else, as the creature sucked his brain through the back of his head.
***
As twilight fell, the creatures assembled on the beach.
Though it was early yet in the Harvest, they were done with the island. They began to walk, silently, into the evening tide. Tentacles sprouted from their backs, embracing one another; and their glazed eyes went dark before they hit the water.
***
Amanda woke screaming. She didn’t think she’d ever stop. She didn’t want to. Every high-pitched scream blinded her to the visions of what Nightmare had wrought.
8.
Jabbawocky
Cutter was at the wheel, Ira in the passenger seat. Lucy had gone back to sleep, leaving Hitch and West with Amanda.
She told them everything she’d seen. Hitch shook his head, ignoring West’s pleading eyes. “Goddamn you.”
“I didn’t mean for any of this,” West said. “You know that. I really thought you’d be all right, Mandy...I thought you were ready. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said. “I can’t keep Nightmare out of my head anymore. I reached out to it, remember?”
“Don’t say that,” grumbled Hitch. “Of course it’s Mike’s fault. He pushed you. He shouldn’t have brought you out here in the first place-”
“Stop, Richard!” Amanda snapped. She lay back, exhausted. “Just stop. I don’t want this to cause any more trauma than it already has. Just leave it alone.”
“You really think I can do that?” Hitch muttered.
“Take it up with me, then,” West said. “Let her rest.”
“We’re a little confined in here, Doctor, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Then save it till later. You’ve got all the rest of your life to hate me.”
“I don’t hate you,” Hitch sighed. “I hate this, all of this.”
Amanda patted his hand. His instinct was to shrink away, but he didn’t.
It was dark outside. Soon they’d reach Rushmore, then set up camp for the night.
“Shit,” Cutter said. The van slowed. “What is it?” West asked, crawling up front.
The headlamps illuminated a crude barricade of felled trees and concrete slabs. It stretched across the entire freeway, both lanes, blocking off the nearest exit as well, the one that said MOUNT RUSHMORE.
“What the hell do we do now?” Cutter said.
“We can go off-road for a bit if need be,” West said. “Dammit. Must’ve been erected during one of the early Harvests.”
“Why? It wouldn’t stop the Harvesters, or the Others. Doesn’t make any damn sense.” Cutter’s eyes narrowed as he chewed it over. “We’re in trouble here, boss.”
“Let’s just get around the barricade and back on the road. All right?”
“Got a bad feeling about this,” Cutter replied, but nevertheless he pulled off across the shoulder and down a grassy incline, the headlights only providing a few yards of visibility. Beyond it was pitch black.
“Grab me a gun, will ya?” Cutter asked. Ira stirred from sleep and looked out the windshield. “Where are we?”
“Just taking a little detour. It’s fine,” West insisted. Cutter slapped his arm. “Gun.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“Cannibals. Undreamers. Who the hell knows? That roadblock was made to stop cars, boss. And look, I think there’s more shit up ahead in the grass.”
And there was. Piles of rock threaded with barbed wire, leaving gaps too small for the van to get through. Cutter drove alongside them with a glare pinching his face. “How far we gotta go to get around this and back on the road? Shit. Shit shit shit.”
“What is it?” Hitch asked from the back.
West came back and rummaged through the arsenal. “Some roadblocks have forced us off the freeway. Cutter’s thinking undreamers or something. I think they’re old and abandoned, we’ll find our way around ‘em soon and get back on track.”
“Cutter doesn’t.”
“Of course not.” West loaded a sawed-off twelve-gauge and returned to the front.
“What do you think?” Asked Amanda.
Hitch shrugged. “Don’t know enough to really guess, and I’m not taking sides. I hope Mike’s right though. This is the last thing we need.”
“Aw SHIT!” Cutter yelled, and the van lurched, with a terrible metallic squeal that sent shocks through Hitch’s legs. Everyone fell forward, Lucy losing her grip on the puppy and crying out as she awoke.
The van stopped. Cutter slammed his fist against the wheel. “I hit one of those rock piles hidden in the grass. Son of a bitch!”
“All right, all right. Let’s get out and see what the damage is.” West opened the back doors.
“Is it okay?” Lucy asked. “Should be,” Amanda replied.
The puppy followed West out the back. Lucy, naturally, did as well and Amanda got up to chase after her.
“Everyone stay close!” Cutter barked, getting out.
It was nice and cool outside, a light wind nudging the grass. Hitch found West crawling beneath the van. “Need a torch or something,” he called.
“Not a good idea if we’re leaking.”
“Well, how am I supposed to know what’s wrong under here, if anything?” West backed out. “Cutter, did you kill the engine or did it die?”
“I killed it,” Cutter answered from the other side of the van. “Didn’t want to take any chances.”
“We might be all right,” said West. “Just a little bump is all.”
“I’ve never seen the night sky so clear as this,” Ira said, perched in his seat with the door open. “Trillions of stars up there. Anyone know constellations?”
“Let’s see if I can find the North Star,” Hitch said. “I like mapping the sky too.”
“Beautiful,” Amanda breathed, suddenly beside him. She held Lucy’s hand and pointed upward. “Have you ever seen the stars like this?”
“Never,” Lucy said. She smiled and turned in a circle, head leaning as far back as it could go. “It’s so perfect up here.”
“Yes, it is.”
It was a perfect moment. One of those when a cynic would be expecting the other shoe to drop, the next thing to go wrong. And it did.
Ira suddenly doubled over, fell out of the van, something long and thick protruding from his torso. He rolled onto his back and Hitch saw it was a spear.
“Cutter!”
The man ran around the front of the van and took cover behind the passenger door. He looked at Ira’s wound, then out into the night. “Fuck! Get back inside, all of you!”
Hitch hustled Amanda and Lucy back into the car, the puppy once again in the girl’s arms. West was slow to follow. “Let’s grab a couple of guns, Hitch. C’mon!”
“We can’t see shit out there!”
“Cutter needs help! C’mon!”
West snatched a couple of pistols from the weapons shelf and stepped outside, protected by the back door. “Cutter! Me and Hitch are back here!”
“Get inside!”
“You can’t go this alone and you know it!”
West crouched, peered beneath the door and across the dark field. Didn’t see a damn thing. Just those tall, wavering blades of grass, and the occasional rock pile.
“Is Ira all right?”
“He’s not gonna make it,” Cutter hissed. Ira cried out at hearing it. “Please! Pull it out! Help me!”
“Be quiet!” Cutter snapped. “It’s gone right through your heart, man! You don’t have long. I’m sorry.”
It was a solid, heavy spear, carved from good wood and made smooth as paper. It had gone deep into Ira, and Cutter knew the bastards were close. Cannibals, they had to be, relying on shit like this. Hunters.
Ira’s voice faltered. He grabbed at Cutter’s leg, whimpering. “I’m sorry...I couldn’t help...”
“Don’t worry about us,” Cutter whispered. “Go to sleep. Just go to sleep.”
Ira closed his eyes and lay still.
“We have you surrounded!” Came the call.
“What do you want?” West shouted back.
“Flesh.”
“I knew it!” Cutter yelled, and started firing at the rock piles he could see.
“Don’t waste ammo!” West cried.
“Jesus,” Hitch was whispering. He looked into the van and saw Amanda clutching Lucy. “What’s happening?” Amanda cried.
Laughter echoed across the plain.
“Let’s just drive out of here!” Rasped West.
Cutter shook his head. “They’ve got more traps out there. We’re done in, fellas.”
“Is this what I can count on?” Hitch snapped.
Cutter glared at him. “Look, I’m ready to use every last bullet on these bastards. If you want a mercy bullet for yourself or those girls, tell me now.”
“Why can’t we just get back in the van-”
“They’ve got us boxed in, boss. We can try shooting our way out, but we’ll hit the traps - or we can cooperate to a point and see just how many of these fuckers there are.”
They weren’t given a choice.
The cannibals swarmed in, heaving spears and knives and rocks and screaming curses, from all directions; out of the night they suddenly appeared, like the stars, not quite a trillion but enough to envelope the van and drive the men into it and now they were sitting in a rocking and thrashing nightmare.
“What do we do?” West cried. “Cutter!”
“I’ll run ‘em down,” Cutter growled, starting the engine. The headlamps illuminated a sea of filthy screaming faces.
A spear crashed through the windshield, slicing open Cutter’s cheek, rocketing into the back and planting itself in a shelf wall - but not before the shaft smacked against Amanda’s head and sent her reeling to the floor.