Killer Koala Bears From Another Dimension Part 7

Joana tried to back pedal, but couldn't find the will to budge. She tried to call out to Tim. All that fluttered from her lips was a m.u.f.fled whimper.

The thing stepped toward her.

She gripped at the gravel with her free hand, the rocks crunching between her fingers. Her other hand held tight to the handle of the machete at her side. She wanted to lift it, defend herself. What was the point? She could find the courage over and over again and it would all just end the same. Death. What was the point of living if you had to become something you didn't want to be in order to live? Was it really worth- The Arktos darted forward.

Joana started to flinch, closing her eyes tight, ready to feel the pain of the creature's blade.

Tim shouted, charging the creature just as Joana had done before.

When Joana looked up, Tim's eyes were wide with rage; the machete in his hand came down hard and fast.

The creature shouted a guttural roar, lifting an arm to block the blow.

One time when Joana was 9 years old, her mother had a piata strung from the ceiling for her birthday party. It was the kind filled with candy. She loved candy. Always had. She liked Sponge Bob Square Pants almost as much as sweets. The piata was shaped like Sponge Bob. She loved cartoons and still watched some to this day. She remembered exactly what it was like when one of the boys her age had cheated, not using the blindfold when swinging the bat at the piata. How the arm just came clean off. The candy spewed out cascading the ground with joyful treats.

This was a lot like that.

Only the Arktos' arm wasn't a piata. And it wasn't candy and joy spewing from the arm as it separated clean off.

The bear's arm slapped against the gravel at her feet. Blood and sinew sprayed violently from the severed limb. The creature flailed and shouted painful moans. It fell back, dropping the knife from its other hand.

Tim just stood there watching it... watching it suffer. Die.

"Oh my, G.o.d. Tim, do something." Joana finally found the nerve to speak up after a minute.

Tim didn't reply.

He remained standing over the bear as it bled to death, the creature afraid. Tim breathed heavily, the machete still in one hand. He almost seemed excited. As if watching this creature suffer was doing something for him. Joana didn't like that one bit. Was he smiling?

Tim brushed his long black hair from his face and stood up straight. "Now that's what I'm f.u.c.kin' talkin' about!"

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" Joana breathed, climbing to her feet. "Kill it already. No reason to make it suffer."

The humanoid lay on the gravel leaned against the brick railing. Blood pooled around its body. It looked weak and tired, its eyes shifting constantly.

"My pleasure..." Tim chuckled.

"Oh, G.o.d. Don't tell me you're enjoying this." Joana said, looking away from the dying creature.

Tim stepped toward it. It tried to shift, get away, but couldn't. It had already lost too much blood.

"What is that supposed to mean," Tim asked, wiping the machete on his leg then lifting it to the striking position. He grinned and stepped even closer to the creature, taunting it with the tip of the sharp blade.

"Please, Tim... you're going to make me sick." Joana looked away again.

"What's your problem, Joana? It's them or us."

Tim stuck the creature with the machete. Joana closed her eyes. Though she didn't watch, she imagined it all in her mind. The blade piercing the bear's fleshy face. The skull splitting wide open. The chunks of meat and brain seeping out from around the blade. The bear's body going limp and Tim yanking the blade back. The blood flinging in the air as he pulled it free. The sounds it all made began to make her sick.

"Well, it's done. Okay..."

Joana looked up to see Tim wiping his machete on the creature's furry chest. The blood spread across, sticking to the gray hair with ease. Satisfied, he sheathed the blade still looking longingly at his handwork.

Joana wanted to yell at him. Tell him she didn't like the look he had in his eyes. She wanted to be angry at him for it. This was a side of him that she had never seen before. And now she knew, all along, this was the side of Tim she had never met. The side he had refused to let her meet. And for good reason. She wouldn't have dated him to begin with had she known how sick he was. Joanna boiled in disgust.

When she opened her mouth to speak, the exact opposite of all those thoughts came to the surface.

"Thank you for saving me. There's not more of those f.u.c.ks coming up here, are there?"

As her own words reached her ears, she really had reason to be scared. Scared of what this night would do to her humanity if she made it out alive.

"No... looks clear." Tim nodded.

Joana took one last look at the severed bear arm. The sharp fingernails that would have torn through her like a knife in hot wax had Tim not done what he did. Then that side of her she didn't want to admit existed resurfaced.

"If this orange field thing really is going to come down and lock us in a dome of death then what are we waiting for? Let's f.u.c.king do this if we're going to do it," she said, stepping over to the ladder and looking down at the dead bear below. "If we get out of this alive... you owe me big time. This has got to be the worst date you have ever taken me on... ever!"

"I've taken you out on a date before?"

Joana rolled her eyes, sheathing her machete.

"Ladies first," Tim insisted, pointing to the ladder.

"Sometimes it blows my mind I ever dated you to begin with. So, what are we going to do, hit the 105 and just leave?" Joana asked, wondering if Tim even caught that first statement. It didn't look like he had. "Because if that's the plan, how do you expect us to get there?"

"One thing at a time," he said, waving her to start climbing down. "First, let's just get off this roof. We need to get a set of wheels. That's our best bet."

"I don't know if you noticed, but my mom's car is kind of done for."

"No s.h.i.t, Sherlock," Tim groaned, grabbing at his ribs again as if bringing up the crash suddenly reminded him to pretend to be in pain.

Joana just shook her head, ignoring him, no longer sure if he really was in pain or not.

When they reached the bottom and found themselves again at the back of the alley, Joana felt like it had been days since they had last been there. There was no telling how much time had actually gone by, what with that strange light casting everything in an orange illumination.

Joana listened for a moment for any activity around them, but heard nothing.

"So, what exactly does this dome of orange light do... exactly?" Joana whispered, helping Tim jump down from the last step into the alley.

"To be honest," Tim said, very mater-of-fact. "I have no idea. Miss Yortsdayle wasn't ever clear about it all. I think she left some of the details out on purpose. I just know that if we don't get out in time, we are stuck here with those crazy f.u.c.kin' bears until the portals close."

"And how much time do we have?"

"I don't have a clue." Tim shrugged. "But standing here and trying to figure it out is just wasting time, if anything. We need to move."

Not wanting to argue any further how stupid Tim had been for even hanging out with that old lady, blood covered and tense, Joana and Tim eased their way back down the alley toward the street.

Now the real question was whether there was enough time to get out before it was too late. And if Joana was going to be able to cope with the new person she might become at the end of it all.

10.

Frank opened his eyes, feeling calm and breathing normally. He was slouched over in the pa.s.senger seat of the Jimmy and cruising down the road in a fast clip.

He a.s.sumed it to be early morning. An orange hue flooded the sky much like the rising sun. His jumbled thoughts collected slowly. Everything was beginning to make sense.

It had just been a dream. It had all been a bad dream.

The killer bears weren't real. Kathie was fine and driving the vehicle. Captain was probably at the apartment chewing on the sofa. He would tend to misbehave when they left him alone. Especially when taking a longer than normal hiking trip, but he didn't remember planning a hiking trip. Sure, the sky was beautiful, perfect for such and adventure. But he wouldn't have planned something like this unless it was the weekend. And sure as s.h.i.t not around the same time as that art show at the Recreation Center. He was pretty much guaranteed to get called in at least once on the weekend of those silly openings. There was always something in need of repair.

Perplexed by the situation, he sat up straight and rubbed his eyes. He didn't feel like he had been sleeping in the car very long.

"Were we headed, hon-" Frank started to say. He turned and looked at the driver and jumped in his seat. "Who the f.u.c.k are you?"

"Names David Outlaw. Most people just call me Outlaw." The large, gruff man nodded while keeping his eyes on the road. "Gave me a scare there for a second, kid. Glad you came around. h.e.l.l, I'm glad I came across you at all. My car is kind of M.I.A., if you want to call it that. No way we would a-gotten out a-there on foot."

Frank stared dumfounded at the driver. He studied the man for a moment. His large forearms were covered in tattoos long faded and blotchy from sun exposure and age. His jeans were grease stained and rolled over his work boots. His shirt was a b.u.t.ton-up. It too was covered in grease stains. There was a large tear in the shirt just under his arm revealing some of the man's armpit. The nametag on the shirt read: Outlaw Tires. Under that was a name tag: David Outlaw. His chin was covered in scruff and a poorly groomed salt and pepper goatee. He wore a worn baseball cap on his head. The John Deer logo embroidered on the front had an oil stain so bad it was almost unreadable.

"Wait... what?" Frank said, scratching at his head.

"Kid, that fall you had must a-been worse than it looked," Outlaw said, looking away from the road for just a second.

"What are you talking about?" Frank looked straight ahead, the road wound left then right. "Are we on 105?"

"The fall... You fell from the second floor of that apartment. I saw it happen. Was a nasty little spill. h.e.l.l, knocked the wind right out a-you. For a second there I was thinking you weren't comin' back around. f.u.c.k man, those bears are everywhere."

That was when memories flooded back to the surface for Frank. He wanted to believe it was all a dream. It wasn't a dream. Well, at least if it was a dream, he wasn't awake yet. He continued to stare out the window. The thick trees on either side zipped by in rapid succession. The orange hue that covered everything wasn't the morning sun rising in the sky. No, it was that strangeness that had overtaken the night. He looked at the clock on the dash radio. It was almost 3 o'clock. Still quite a while before the sun was going to decide to rise. His mind replayed from the time he saw Captain dead, falling from the patio of his apartment, and not being able to breathe.

"You pulled me to the car?"

"Yeah, kid," Outlaw said. "Just glad you were able to tell me which car was yours before you pa.s.sed out on me. Those bears were everywhere. We were lucky we even made it out a there at all if you ask me."

"Well, thanks." Frank smiled. "Name's Frank... people just call me... Frank."

"Don't mention it. Consider us even, Frank."

"How so?"

"Because..." Outlaw shook his head and shifted his hat with one hand. "My truck was ransacked. That's how. Wouldn't a gotten out a-there without you."

"What happened?" Frank asked, checking his pocket for his phone and thinking of trying Kathie's cell again. It was still there. He started to pull it out, but Outlaw spoke up. Not wanting to be rude and cut him off, he just kept the phone in his hand nestled in his coverall pocket.

"I was just drivin' through the area. Headed to 105 like we're doin' now. Got attacked by those things at home. You should-a seen it. They flooded the streets on my block killin' everybody. It was madness. Luckily I was awake and was able to get out when all the commotion started. Again... I was comin' through the area near that apartment complex when a bunch of those things just jumped out at me in the road. h.e.l.l, I didn't think nothin' of it. I just as much run every one of those sons-a-b.i.t.c.hes over. So I didn't try to move. I just kept going right at them. That's when it happened." Outlaw lifted one hand and mimicked throwing a spear. His eyes went wide as he said, "f.u.c.kers took out two of my tires. Lost control and ended up in the ditch."

"Hey, at least you got out of there, yeah?"

"Yeah, no kiddin'," Outlaw chuckled. "Talk about ironic, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"Outlaw, the tire king of Lewisburg just 'bout meets his maker from two blown tires. s.h.i.t, I was laughing even when I hit the ditch."

"I guess that is kind of funny."

"Yeah, so that's how we're even. Thanks for the wheels."

"Don't mention it." Frank smiled, pulling the cellphone from his pocket.

"I wouldn't bother trying it." Outlaw shook his head. "I 'bout busted a d.a.m.n ear drum trying to use mine just before I ran into you."

"What do you mean?" Frank dialed the number, pressing send, and putting the phone to his ear. The instant squealing screech that exploded in his ear from the receiver was so loud that he dropped the phone. The phone fell closed in his lap. "What the f.u.c.k was that?" He asked, shoving a pinky into his ringing ear.

"Told you." Outlaw smiled. "Bet it has something to do with what's goin' on. Interference of some kind. Got a-be."

"That's just it... what the h.e.l.l is going on?"

"That's the question of the day, isn't it?" Outlaw said, easing onto the brakes as they hugged a sharp turn on the highway. Once it straightened back out, he gave it more gas. "Some kind government experiment if you ask me. Like the Hunger Games or somethin'. Testin' out some new creatures they done invented. Seein' how they hold up against us armed civilians."

"No way..." Frank scoffed. "And who said anything about being armed?"

"I did." Outlaw leaned over with one hand on the wheel, and used his other hand to pull up his pant leg revealing a revolver. "Never leave home without it. How do you think I made it out of there when I hit the ditch?"

"Makes sense." Frank sighed. "But still... the government wouldn't do something like this, would they?"

"Why the h.e.l.l not? They do this s.h.i.t all the time."

"Since when?"

"Okay, well you got a better idea then?"

"I don't know... Aliens maybe."

Outlaw laughed. "Haven't you seen the movies? Aliens don't look like f.u.c.kin' bears, kid."

"Whatever... I just don't think the government could pull something like this off. If they were experimenting with cross species genetics or something, I think we would have heard about it."

"You don't have to hear about it. You're seeing it right now, ain't you?"

Frank just shook his head and looked out the pa.s.senger window, slightly irritated.

"Look, kid. I ain't tryin' to argue. If it ain't the government, that's fine by me. But I say that's who's behind all this s.h.i.t until proven otherwise."

"That sounds fair." Frank nodded, looking down at the phone in his lap.