Clickers. Part 23

The truck paused briefly and then Jack made a right down Harbor, heading south. Harbor led to Route 1. Rick felt a momentary sense of relief flood over him as the truck picked up speed, and the others seemed to share this sentiment. The Clickers were dwindling in numbers, their appearance less threatening. Rick still wouldn't feel one hundred percent safe until they were within the safety of several hundred people far from this wet, watery h.e.l.l; preferably in the company of the Army, Navy, and Marines. But for now he felt a little safer. But he wasn't going to let his guard down. Not for an instant.

For one, they weren't fully out of danger yet. They were still in the vicinity of Phillipsport, and more Dark Ones could be around. Secondly, he still felt some sense of responsibility for Janice and Bobby-especially Bobby, who had seen and experienced more terror and pain than he will probably experience in a lifetime. He'd promised Janice that he would protect Bobby if anything happened to her, and to prevent anything from happening to her, he had to protect her. That meant he had to be on his guard and be alert to whatever might be lying in wait ahead of them.

Rick raised himself up slightly, checking out the road ahead of them through the windshield. He held the gun firmly, ready for anything. The others remained crouched down in the bed of the truck as if sensing that it wasn't entirely safe yet, either. They travelled down Harbor, sending sprays of water through the street, into gutters and over dead bodies. Empty houses, buildings, and cars sped past them and then civilization seemed to grow thinner ahead. To their left lay the beach, silent and deserted, and to their right the woods and the highway.

Freedom.

Jack turned down the highway, plunging into the woods. It was darker within and the truck's headlights stabbed ahead of them, picking out the road and the trees bordering it. The sky was beginning to lighten from pitch dark to gray. They were going along at a steady pace, not too fast in respect to the storm, and not too slow, either. The others seemed to feel a sense of relief, and raised themselves up a little bit. Rick kept his eyes peeled on the road, nerves braced for anything that might come leaping out at them from the woods.

Nothing did. Instead, it came from directly in front of them.

The truck's headlights picked out two cars lying nose to nose, blocking the highway. It came up at them from a sudden curve and Jack had to stomp on the brakes to avoid hitting them. The truck skidded slightly as the tires locked, spinning on the rain-soaked road. The skid spun the rear end of the truck to the right, knocking Rick backward onto the bed. Charlie's body fell forward in a sickening thump, his upper body coming down on Barbara, who began screaming and batting it away. Her hand smacked the red meat of Charlie's neck stump and this seemed to make her scream louder. The others were dislodged from their positions, sending them to the bed on each other in a mad helter-skelter of arms and legs. Rick held onto the gun, praying it wouldn't go off. The truck ended its skid and Jack spun the wheel, righting the truck back into position and coming to a stop. Barbara was still screaming and trying to get Charlie's headless body off of her.

Rick scrambled to his feet, gun raised, his adrenaline pulsing through his veins just as he saw the harpoon plow through the windshield, impaling Jack through the seat.

From his angle it was difficult for Rick to tell exactly where it hit Jack, but it didn't matter. He could see Jack in the front seat, convulsing like an insect speared by an entomologist's pin.

For a fraction of a second he was stunned, but then the rolling motion of the truck jarred him out of it. Jack's foot had slipped off the brake and since the vehicle was still running and in drive, it began to roll forward. And then the thing that had lunged the harpoon swooped in through the windshield, rocking the vehicle back in a shower of gla.s.s and crunching metal.

From beside and around him, the sounds of screaming rose and Rick turned to Janice and Bobby-they were cringing against each other, Janice's arms cradling the boy in her arms, shielding him as he screamed and pushed his legs against the bed, pushing himself and his mother against the side panel of the truck. Glen leaped over the side of the truck, followed by Annette and Barbara, who was still screaming. Anne sat on the bed of the truck, her eyes open in a far away look that told Rick she'd lost her mind.

Dark shapes moved in the shadows of the woods coming toward the truck and Rick raised the gun. Annette was swinging her legs over the panel of the truck and a Dark One reached out and s.n.a.t.c.hed her in its grasp. She screamed. A spray of crimson rained briefly as her jugular was severed, drenching Janice and Bobby, and then the Dark One retreated with its prize.

Rick stood, facing Janice and Bobby, ready to blow away anything that dared show its scaly face. On his right Melissa cringed against the rear of the truck's cab, mouth opened to scream. Beyond the truck and out to the woods where Glen and Barbara had fled to, screams of agony and pain shrieked from the darkness. Large hulking shapes throttled smaller ones in the dark woods.

Their screams died down as a dark figure lunged out of the dark.

Melissa saw it and scuttled toward Rick in fear. Rick stood up, aimed and yelled, "Janice! Get out of the-"

His words were cut off by her scream as a taloned hand grabbed her shoulder and lifted her up. She clutched Bobby tighter, hugging the boy to her side. The creature lifted her off the bed of the truck, Janice's grip dragging Bobby up with her. Bobby's legs kicked frantically, trying to escape. Rick froze, debating on whether to fire but afraid of hitting Janice or Bobby or missing altogether, but he had to do something to save them, and things were moving so fast now that his finger barely had time to curl around the trigger when the Dark One opened its mouth, engulfed Janice's head in that maw of jagged teeth and bit down.

The sound of her neck snapping between the thing's serrated teeth was deafening; it sounded like ice cracking on a pond on a cold winter day. The Dark One lifted its head after taking Janice's head in its mouth and chewed, like a child eating the top of a hot dog. Blood fountained upward, spraying over her and the creature, drenching Bobby who fell to the floor of the truck. Bobby scrambled to the other side of the bed, screaming hysterically: "Mommy!"

All of this happened within seconds as the truck rolled toward the two cars road blocked in the highway. The creature walked alongside the cab as it chewed, still clutching Janice's body. It swallowed.

And then it turned toward Rick and seemed to grin.

Its teeth bloodstained with Janice's gore, it tipped its head back and roared. The sound of it sent Melissa scrambling over the side of the cab, screaming hysterically. Rick scooped up Bobby and vaulted the side of the bed after Melissa, running after her. They rounded the front of the truck, heading toward the woods that lined the beach when a thudding sound erupted, and the Dark One that killed Janice was suddenly standing in front of them.

They stopped, Melissa screaming as she did so. Rick dropped Bobby, who scrambled back and cringed against the cars blocking the road. The creature stepped forward, swatting Melissa aside casually, causing her to tumble down the wooded incline that led to the beach. Rick could hear Melissa screaming as she fell all the way down and the creature stepped up to him, its bulk seeming to tower upward. Behind him, Bobby was screaming for his mother. The creature fixed Rick in its gaze, as if sizing him up.

The creature opened its mouth, a maw of teeth that gleamed with Janice's blood. The Dark One was easily twelve feet tall and looked older, more refined, more mature than any of the others. It walked upright like a man instead of hunched over like the others. Its yellow eyes regarded Rick, the pupils tiny slits that gleamed like evil diamonds. Its nostrils flared as the tips of its mouth and upper lip curled back in a sneer. It opened its mouth and roared, bending forward to scoop Rick up in a similar head-biting motion that would leave him lifeless.

But Rick antic.i.p.ated the move. His finger curled around the trigger of the Smith & Wesson. He moved the weapon up as the creature's head descended down. The arc of the Dark One's bite descended down over the barrel of the gun, heading straight for him. All Rick had to do was shove the gun up farther, his arm up the creature's mouth to his elbow, and pull the trigger.

The back of the creature's head exploded outward in a spray of green skin, blood, and tissue. The creature reeled back, roaring in pain. Rick c.o.c.ked the gun and stuck the barrel up beneath the creature's chin and pulled the trigger again. The blast sent that part of the creature's head exploding in a showering mash of bone and brain. It teetered on its hind legs for a moment, arms waving drunkenly before it toppled over on its back.

Rick reacted instantly. He ran over to Bobby who was cringing against the car, still screaming for his mother. Scooping the boy up, he ran down the incline toward the beach where Melissa had fallen. The stretch of woods was small, and he thought he could hear the cracking of weeds as more Dark Ones crashed in the woods behind him. He skirted around some trees and reached the bottom where he found Melissa getting to her feet. She appeared dazed. Rick helped her up and motioned down the beach. "We've got to get the f.u.c.k out of here!"

Melissa nodded. Rick set Bobby down, but the boy clung to his legs, his sobs hoa.r.s.e and dry; all the tears seemed to have run out of him. He clutched his injured hand close to his chest and Rick knelt down before him, looking into the boy's eyes. "Come on, big guy. Gotta be brave for me now. Okay?"

Bobby nodded, still sobbing. "I want my mother."

"I know," Rick said. "But we gotta get outta here, okay?"

"Okay." Bobby sobbed. The kid looked like he was in deep shock, running on autopilot. He had witnessed his mother's death, had felt her blood rain down on him, had one of the Clickers take half of his middle finger and almost kill him, had seen the big Dark One kill his friends, almost kill Rick, and he still wanted his mother. He probably just wanted the whole nightmare to go away, wanted to go home, get into his pajamas and be tucked into bed by his Mommy who would smooth back his hair, kiss his forehead and tell him everything was going to be all right.

Rick felt a painful lump rise in his throat, and he swallowed it down. He wanted it to go away himself but it wasn't. It was only going to get worse.

He got to his feet and propelled Bobby forward. "Let's go." With Rick bringing up the rear, he herded Bobby and Melissa back up the incline through the little stretch of woods, then parallel with the woods. And as they ran through the woods, Rick thought he heard the sounds of pursuit behind them as the Dark Ones crashed through the trees. He also thought that it felt slightly warmer and it was just a little bit lighter.

They ran. Through the trees up ahead, Rick could make out the first telltale signs that it was morning. The darkness of the night was gone, being slowly replaced by the gray of the clouds. They were moving fast, the wind blowing hard and cold. Rick still had the unmistakable feeling that it wasn't as cold as it had been, that it was slightly warmer, that- Melissa screamed and Rick was startled. They stopped in their tracks as a Dark One leaped from behind a tree. Melissa instinctively leaped to the side, and now it was he and Bobby in front of the creature. Bobby didn't stop as fast as he should have, and the thing picked him up in one swoop of its powerful arms. Rick yelled "Noooo!" just as the creature brought Bobby's screaming form to its face and began gorging amid the boy's screams and struggles.

It began to eat Bobby alive while the boy's lifeblood splattered to the ground at the Dark One's feet.

Rick was so shocked at the sight that he stood rooted to the spot. All he could do was watch in horror as the Dark One devoured Bobby in greedy chomps and gulps. The boy's screams abruptly died off.

He didn't even realize he was screaming until he felt rough hands turn him toward the road and begin pulling him toward it. Only then was he aware that it was Melissa, who'd stumbled back to grab him and push him back on the flight to escape. Only then did he realize that he'd been standing in one spot, screaming his head off, and that the Dark One that was devouring Bobby would soon be lunging at him.

Still screaming, he ran after Melissa as the wind blew the storm clouds across the sky.

Chapter Twenty-Nine.

Rick was convinced they would be dead meat as they ran pell-mell through the woods. He could hear the crashing in the woods behind him as the Dark Ones gave chase. He didn't know if it was the same creature that had killed Bobby, or if there were others, but it felt like more than one. It sounded like more than one and- Slowly but surely, the pursuit behind them was slowing down. It hit him when they reached a crest in the woods that led to the main highway that had been blocked off. Rick stopped abruptly, not hearing anything behind him now and Melissa stopped and turned, looking confused. And then it hit him.

The storm was over.

The clouds were breaking.

Sunlight was shining through the dissolving clouds.

He could see it on the small crest they had stopped on, and he tilted his head up and grinned. The rain had stopped, and while it was still cold, the slivers of sunlight that stabbed through the dark clouds brought a sense of joy to Rick's face. Over the ocean, the storm clouds dissipated, revealing blue sky. The wind was pushing the clouds inland in a slow, steady pace. A few more minutes and they'd be bathed in sunlight.

Melissa was laughing, clapping her hands together and looking up at the sky in victory. She looked like she had just won a million dollars. Rick turned back where they'd come from, catching a fleeting glimpse of huge, dark shapes scurrying to the ocean as if trying to escape a deadly plague. Rick watched as the beasts ran to the beach and dived into the ocean, back down to their watery darkness. He wanted to be happy, but he was still in a state of shock over just losing Janice and Bobby.

Watching the creatures slip into the ocean, it was hard to believe that any of this was still happening, that he'd gone through all this only to remain virtually unscathed.

"Yes!" Melissa yelled. She laughed, and to Rick it sounded as if she was teetering on the brink of madness herself. "Go back to the h.e.l.l you came from, motherf.u.c.kers!" She was laughing hysterically, tears streaming down her face.

The sound of her laughter brought their triumph back to reality. They were momentarily safe for now, but the creatures could still come back. They had to get the h.e.l.l out of here and go to where there were other people.

Rick pulled at Melissa's arm. She turned to him, her grin wide, and for just an instant Rick wondered how Melissa was doing mentally. "We've got to go, Melissa."

Melissa nodded, her grin fading. "Where should we go?"

"Follow the road I guess. Somebody should come along eventually."

"Okay." They walked up the incline that led to the road and stopped, looking down its twisting, winding expanse. It would lead south to another secondary road that would go in a northwestern direction, which would eventually lead to the Interstate. Rick was positive that help would be on this road somewhere. He looked at Melissa and for a brief instant he saw Janice's face superimposed over Melissa's- (if it comes down between him and me, take care of him!) -for just a brief instant, and then it was gone.

Guess I screwed up on that one, babe. G.o.d, I am so sorry.

"You okay, Rick?"

Rick blinked and then it was just Melissa looking at him with concern. A sudden sense of sadness and loss swelled in Rick and for a moment he thought he was going to cry. But he drew a deep breath and reeled it in. There would be a time for mourning later, when they were out of the cold and wet and away from the threat of danger. For now he had to concentrate on getting them off this road and into the hands of rescue workers.

Melissa's eyes still held a sense of fear. He reached out for her, hugging her briefly. "I'm fine. I'm just so glad we're alive."

"So am I, " Melissa said.

Rick broke the embrace and looked down at her. "Let's get out of here."

They turned and began heading south down Route 1.

Two hours later they were picked up by the National Guard and taken to a rescue shelter.

The National Guard's rescue mission sweep hit Phillipsport, Maine at nine thirty a.m. eastern standard time on October 24.

Ten trucks pulled into the town center from the main highway. The high beams of the vehicles picked out the carnage that had occurred. The first truck skirted the carnage easily and pulled over, where the driver promptly threw up. Those following drove farther into the city, fanning out over the town at strategic points. Radio frequencies had become easier to pick up in this part of the state, and within minutes the first message had been relayed by radio of the severity of the situation in Phillipsport. "Center Control, this is unit one thousand, Center Control this is unit one thousand, do you copy? Over."

"Unit one thousand, this is Center Control and we copy. Over."

"Center Control we have a grave situation here. We're in Phillipsport, Maine which is approximately one hundred and fifty miles from Portland in the northeastern corner of the state along Route 1. It looks like everybody here is dead, sir. Over."

"Unit one thousand, did I copy that right? Did you say everybody's dead? Over."

"That's affirmative Center Control. We're rolling through town and I see nothing but dead bodies lining the streets. Over."

"Unit one thousand, a.s.sess the situation then report back at ten hundred hours. Over."

"Center Control, that's a ten-four. Over."

"Over and out."

By eleven o'clock, the US Army had set up a command station at the town center at what had once been Phillipsport's Sheriff's station. As rescue teams scurried about town, two Army Commanders and a Corporal occupied the fort at the sheriff's station after trying to locate the local law enforcement. A representative from the Maine State Highway Patrol was flown in and reported back the damage at the station and the town to his superiors in Portland. And for the next three hours the reports came trickling in.

Five hundred people dead by the count of the rescuers.

There didn't seem to be any hope for survivors. During their rescue mission, which went on the rest of the day and through the night, they encountered no living human being.

In addition to the dead, there were what had to be thousands of what could only be described as giant crabs littering the streets. Most of them were crushed, crumpled and appeared partially devoured. Some, however, were whole and quite intact. One rescue worker picked one up by its legs; the creature, in its death spasm, reached a blood red claw out and snapped the man's finger off.

In addition to the dead crab-things and people, it appeared that the citizens of Phillipsport had been involved in a war. Most of the dead were either clutching firearms, or weapons were recovered not far from their bodies. There were shotguns, pistols, hunting rifles and every conceivable form of firearm strewn all over the town. They were found everywhere, from empty living rooms to the stone-dead hands of the people that died brandishing them. One old man was found clutching an antique 1894 Winchester rifle-the old man looked like he'd gone through a paper shredder; the rifle hadn't lost any of its monetary value. Cars were demolished, most parked haphazardly; stores were destroyed, their windows bashed in, their interiors demolished. At the Sheriff's station, which was the only seemingly intact place in town, several rifles and pistols were missing from the cache along with several hundred rounds of ammunition. Farther down Main Street, along the pier, the beach was littered with the broken sh.e.l.ls of the giant crab-things, along with more human bodies. The rescue workers that were the first on the scene were numbed by the ma.s.sive carnage.

By midnight, the entire town had been canva.s.sed, including the shopping center, city hall, the outlying suburbs and the few farms that dotted the surrounding countryside. In every instance, rescue workers encountered the same sight; not a living soul, but plenty of destruction of human life and property damage.

A few hours later a truckload of National Guardsmen pulled up to the GE power plant. Two men waited in the truck while four of them ventured inside the building. A few minutes later, they reported their find via walkie-talkie.

As the night slowly gave way to dawn, one of the things that puzzled rescuers the most was the occasional ma.s.s of what appeared to be a frothy liquid substance amid tattered shreds that could only have been clothing. A United States Marine voiced the opinion that it looked like flesh that had been dissolved in acid. Why else would the remnants of blue jeans be intertwined in the puddle of goo?

And so the search continued.

Rick's and Melissa's first stop was the Red Cross emergency station that had been set up in Cherryfield. They were transported there by chopper after the National Guard picked them up and took them to the substation erected about twenty miles south, and thirty minutes later were being treated for their wounds.

The attending physician on duty that treated Melissa and Rick gave them a preliminary examination that resulted in p.r.o.nouncing them fine, but exhausted. He examined Rick's leg, which had begun bleeding several hours before in their mad flight from the Dark Ones. He patched it up and gave him some painkillers, then directed them to a gym that had been converted to a makeshift recovery area/homeless shelter. Beds lined the floor of the gym, four wide, fifteen deep. Most of them were full, but they found a vacant pair toward the rear of the room that were side by side. The doctor escorted them to the beds, gave them each a tranquilizer and told them to get some rest. They laid down on the cots surrounded by survivors of the wrath of the hurricane.

A lump rose in Rick's throat as he thought of Janice. In his mind, he would see her die every time he thought of her. He heard Bobby scream as he was picked up by the Dark One and Janice's voice floated in his mind again as if to mock him: Promise me you'll take care of Bobby if anything happens to me.

Rick laid down on the bed, drew his knees up to his chest and cried. He didn't care that there were other survivors of the storm seeking temporary shelter. He didn't care about anybody else's loss. All he felt was his own. He didn't even notice that Melissa get off her cot and sit at his side to comfort him as he cried himself to sleep.

Rick was slowly coming to consciousness when he felt somebody lightly tapping his shoulder. He was dreaming they were in back of the pickup truck Jack was piloting and the Dark Ones were after them again. Janice was in the truck with Bobby, and this time as the Dark One leaned over and reached out a large taloned claw it wasn't Janice it picked up, it was Rick. He felt its grip around his body as claws sunk into his chest and picked him up. He felt himself being lifted up toward that opening maw lined with sharp teeth- He came to with a gasp and, for a moment, the figure leaning over him was the Dark One, bending over him to bite his head off. Rick scurried backward, the figure solidifying before him. Then his vision cleared, and he was looking at a uniformed officer, an Army Colonel from the looks of him. Rick's heart fluttered from a heavy beat to a whisper. He took a deep breath. "Jesus, you scared the h.e.l.l out of me."

The Colonel offered no apology. "Are you Richard Timothy Sychek?"

Rick's curiosity was aroused. "Yeah?"

"My name is Colonel Richrath, US Army. Could you come with me, please?" The Colonel stood in front of the cot, waiting for Rick to get up. Behind him, a pair of Army men stood in Army greens awaiting to escort him to wherever it was they wanted him.

Rick glanced over at the cot Melissa had slept in and saw it was empty. The Colonel antic.i.p.ated it. "Your companion, Melissa Ann Peterson, has already been escorted by another private to our temporary headquarters. If you'll come with me you can see her."

Rick got up, memories of last night rushing through his sleep encrusted mind. There was a sharp pang in his stomach and he realized he was hungry. When was the last time he'd eaten anything? At least twenty-four hours. He looked around at the shelter which was still filled with people, some sitting on their cots in little groups, others huddled in various corners. Red Cross personnel droned along making sure everything was running smoothly. Rick noticed from the windows set along the walls of the building that it was light and the sun was shining. When they had come in it had been daylight, but cloudy. "How long have I been asleep?"

"You and Ms. Peterson fell asleep at around two p.m. on October 24. It is now ten a.m. October 25." Colonel Richrath's voice was official sounding, brisk, and impersonal. He sounded like a robot. Rick didn't like it one bit.

"I've been asleep almost twenty-four hours?" Rick was alarmed.

For the first time what could have pa.s.sed as emotion flickered across Colonel Richrath's face in a brief smile, and then was replaced by that flat, detached gaze. "You were obviously both very exhausted. We thought it best that you get your sleep."

Rick's stomach rumbled again. "I'm hungry. Is there a place where we can stop and get something to eat?"

"Lunch is being provided," Colonel Richrath said. "If you'll just come with us."

"Mind if I go to the restroom to brush my teeth and take a pee?"