At a battered gravestone perched a flapping crow. Basking in hulking shadow, it glared a behemoth man shouldering half a dozen bodies dangling limbs and dripping blood. His heavy footfalls squished guts and splatted blood pools and Nolt Marcus halted by his smaller brother. He let the corpses thud before his big feet and uttered in baritone.
"Should be the last of them."
Kyle Marcus on his knee clenched dishevelled hair, yanked a body, and in surgical precision hacked at the neck. Dark blood slicked his crescent blade which moonlight glinted. He suspended it above ground, letting the excess trickle down the stump, and gravity wheeled the grey rotting visage towards him. Black eyes, bulging murky veins, and bloody saliva oozed the razored teeth caked in flesh and the serpentine tongue winding out the jawless mouth.
"Man. These are some ugly suckers."
He tossed it behind. It tumbled a couple bounces on black earth and by dozens more heads waddled to a halt. Pinching his chin, Kyle furrowed at Nolt.
"Which reminds me now you're here. Kinda looks like you, Nolt."
"You're a funny twink."
Nolt snorted and Kyle wheezing sent them chuckling and busting a gut. A rough voice intruded them.
"If ya ladies jus' about done, we bes' get a move on."
The laughters faded. Kyle glanced the distant shade at a ridge.
"Almost through, boss."
He glared Nolt as he hewed on, nudging head while at it.
"What got his jimmies rustling? Hell, he got all stiff ever since we got here."
Nolt shrugged.
"Big brother being big brother."
The silhouette leaned against a withered oak burdening crows. Folding arms, he sucked the cigar his stained teeth wedged, burning the ember tip as smoke banked the wary gaze. Bird by bird the caws and fluttering ceased. The crows blinked not once. Neither Borgoff Marcus while he glared the evergreens serried across a barren field, towering and shadowed. Mist slithered out the tree gaps at infectious celerity. With it blistering cold.
Kyle lopped the last head and gripped by the shaft a silver arrow lodged through cranium with the dripping tip protruding out the mouth. Yanking it, he tossed it aside and stashed the heads in leather sacks. He rubbed his arms, gazing the mist enveloping him and the cemetery.
Nolt hurled the headless mass in a deep grave he dug. Women, children, and elderly alike thudded beneath. He heaved a jerry can, unsealed the lid, and poured gasoline until drops trickled. It rumbled from being tossed aside and Nolt with shut eyes and tucked chin gave silent prayer. He bit a cigar and the lid on his zippo lighter flipped up for the fire to smother. Again he thumbed it for it to shrivel. He tried again and again until a tiny flame waved the tobacco which kindled as he sucked. Smoke fogging out his nostrils lingered like drifting spectres. He blew some more and flicked the cigar to the depths where burst flames which dawdled no higher than an arm length. The smoke ascended at a turtle pace. His gaze affixed at a squawking flock by the starless firmament as he restrained a bestial groan. He heaved up his giant shoulder a massive staff and went to accompany Borgoff.
Farther north stood the Atomic Bus. A hulking armored tank, the vehicle held an interior spacious enough to accommodate a dozen crew. Reinforcements meshed crossed apertures and weathered metal platings bulwarked the entire hull. Inside, electronics switched off save a heater and a pulse monitor beeping at the rear. Leila Marcus attended her bedridden brother, Grove Marcus. An unsettled gaze quivered on the latter. His steamy breaths shuddered.
"It's cold. Too cold, Leila."
Leila pinched the woolly blanket to his collar and with both hands warmed his.
"I know. We'll be out soon."
"No. It's not that. Something approaches."
Shivering Grove glanced the closest aperture raying stencilled moonlight. Seeing the mist threading in made him grip her hand harder. And tighter like his life depended on it. The beeping quickened.
"Something is out there. Something terrible."
Leila drew a bulky silver gun, trigger fingered. The crossed iron sight fixed at a stalking silhouette.
"Not only is Borgoff scaring the living shit out of me as we speak–"
She sighed a curse, shut eyes, and faced down. Elbowing a steel wall, Kyle spoke on while eyeing Grove.
"–but Tinker Bell there just had to have a mouthful on him too, eh?"
Leila holstered it and resumed tending to Grove.
"Could've blown your goddamn brains out."
"Know what else blows my mind? This fucking weather. Sheesh. Get us the hell out of here."
Kyle fisted switches on his way to the front. Ceiling lights tinkered and hummed. He hopped on the driver seat, rested head on arm, and tucked feet over the other on the rusty steering wheel. He whistled a tune as he flapped open a magazine.
"So we done?" said Leila.
"All set. Just waiting on Borgs to sort his shit out."
A crowded flock stirred a pandemonium, blotting the moon and the night sky. Leila trailed her gaze at the blackish clouds aperture to aperture until she noticed terror seizing Grove. His chest heaved up and down. The beeping pulsed faster and sweat beaded his head and trickled and frosted halfway. He never glanced away from the window by him. Pinching a drop, she brought the crystal tear to her eyes, flicked it, and headed out. He gripped her wrist.
"Leila."
She faced Grove.
"Grove?"
He leaned towards her on his elbow.
"You mustn't go. Stay."
Grove clenched harder. His tone grew desperate.
"You must."
She smiled. Holding his wrist, she settled him on his back and brushed his hair.
"I'll be alright."
A reluctant Grove laid there. Heading for the exit, Leila hollered at Kyle.
"Look after him."
"What? Where you going?"
He gazed back to see her long gone. Sighing out his nose, he tossed aside the magazine. He sat up and thumbed the frost fogging the rearview mirror and with it looked at Grove.
"Is it just me, Grove, or does nobody want to leave this fucking place?"
Grove laid sideways, facing the wall. He cowered while chewing nail on his thumb. And whimpered once a bat swarm squeaked by and shaded his lidless eyes. The lights jittered.
"Borgoff, Grove picked something off the radar. He senses something."
Leila stood between Borgoff and Nolt. She frowned the former.
"Borgoff?"
Neither men so much as budged. Nor took breath. She glanced Nolt and his staff at the ready by his rugged chest and at his tensed visage before glancing back at Borgoff. Leila faced where they faced. There by the woods scattered white specks.
"Borgoff."
She felt the handgrip on her gun, glaring the black trees. More pale women converged and stilled. Leila leaned head towards Borgoff.
"Borgoff, what do you see?"
Nolt groaned as he strangled his staff. Extending a wrist-mounted silver crossbow, Borgoff grabbed a handful arrows off the quiver.
"The lackeys."
He hovered the ammunition by the limb and string.
"Waitin' fer the real deal t'show up."
The mist thickened by the moment. He shut eyes and compensated with animal instincts. The massive thumping heart on Nolt drowned. Muffled breaths from Leila silenced, paving way for Borgoff to sense a terrible aura looming the dark. An ungodly aura. He heard twigs snap. Wind disturbed by ghastly speed empowering misshapen hands and feet. Saliva strands and blood splotches staining the accursed grounds which bloodstained nails clawed. And haggish breaths shivering a mortal chill down his very spine. He trailed its track with the bow and snapped open his gaze.
"There."
Sleight-handed Borgoff let loose the dozen arrows at a rapid fire. They curved an unnatural bend, let gravity path the trajectories, and projectile by projectile faded in the frigid haze. He froze and his mouth went agape. The ashy cigar tumbled by his stiffened feet.
Leila and Nolt snapped gaze at Borgoff. And snapped back at the woods where wailed a bloodcurdling shriek worth a thousand banshees. The mist paved aside. Fallen leaves scraped and scattered about. The twigs branching the oak rattled and the crows flapped wings at vigorous retreat. They drew closer. The haggish breaths.
"Run."
The others stood ground. Borgoff went manic.
"Run!"
A lanky silhouette pursued them on its feet. Its lashing tongue swung by the bony limbs, the waddling body, the drifting hair, and the abyssal sockets. Backing off, Leila made a run for the Atomic Bus. Stubbornness kept Nolt at bay. And forced Borgoff to deal a mean shove to his chest, staggering Nolt back a foot.
"Run goddamn ya! Run, ya worthless heap a meat sack!" He slapped Nolt on the temple. "Yer shit-fer-brains muscles ain't no use here! Run!"
Nolt sprinted as told while Borgoff unleashed his entire quiver to cover the retreat. Some arrows twirled upon contact. The rest shattered to bits and rent fletchings by lightning swipes. Borgoff hightailed out and the trio not once looked back. They encountered Kyle halfway to the vehicle.
"There you clowns are! Just about done stalling or–"
Nolt snatched him up his shoulder and stopped for nothing.
"What the fuck?! What gives?!"
They stormed in the vehicle and Leila as last crew punched a button. The ramped entrance whined up and sealed and she rushed by Grove who reached out his arm.
"Leila!"
"Grove, we're going home." Leila held his hand to her cheek and smiled. "We're heading home like you wanted. Okay?"
At the front, Nolt set Kyle down while Borgoff dashed for the driver seat, pinched the ignition key, and twisted it. The engine whined to die down within a moment. He twisted it again for it to shut down at an instant. Borgoff gritted teeth and growled. A honk blared as he shoved the wheel.
"Work, ya piece a shit! Work!"
He snapped back his gaze at the aperture at the far rear. Out there among shrivelled trees and shaded gravestones waddled forth the gangly hag. It unleashed a maniacal cackle which sent Leila quick-drawing her gun and the whimpering Grove palming his ears. A futile effort by Grove as the haggish wheezes and gasps pressed the feverish torment. Speechlessness stiffened Kyle and Nolt whose jaws half-slackened as the lights stammered and as the fog inside went opaque.
Borgoff pulled a final attempt with the key. And wheezed when the engine rumbled to life and headlights shimmered the smokescreen path ahead. He flicked miniature levers on top and out emerged behemoth thrusters from the rear. Whining crescendoed as Borgoff clenched a side lever and forced it front to maximum power and him stomping the gas pedal bursted cyan flames which left in its fiery wake blazing trees and trail. The speedometer needle tipped a hard right. Hot stuttering white blanched the countenances on Kyle, Nolt, and Leila.
The Atomic Bus stormed through everything in its reckless path. Trees uprooted and gravestones chunked to rubbles. The uneven ground thundered the interior to a violent rumble. Shelves flapped open and out deluged canned foods, pans, and pots which thunked Nolt on the dome. Leila hugged Grove and the gurney with him in a tight clinch. The rattling stand with the IV drips collapsed by them. Slammed against a wall, Kyle crashed his dome above on a teetering light fixture the moment he recovered, shattering it in the process. Him palming the shards pricked his hands and Kyle struggled forward from shouldering walls to clenching emergency handrails while gritting teeth and clutching his blood-trickling head. He clenched the headrest and scowled down the frenzied Borgoff.
"FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! HAVE YOU LOST IT?!"
Borgoff clenched whole his face and shoved him aside to the passenger seat where Kyle flattened on his buttocks.
"GETTIN' US OUT IN ONE PIECE BY DOING MY DAMNED JOB!"
He pointed a firm finger at him amid the roaring and rumbling ruckus.
"SIT YER KNOW-IT-ALL TWINK ASS DOWN!"
Leafy twigs bristled the meshes as they rammed more trees. They battered down a palisade and metal rods clanked the hull. Enduring a hilly slope, they noticed the mist dissipating. The lights stabilized and the screaming thrusters faded. Beeping and blinking, the fuel meter flashed neon-red on Borgoff who felt the bitter cold parting him. They found themselves on even ground. A tarmac road. Borgoff glanced the rearview mirror.
"That thing. We lose it?"
Leila scanned aperture to aperture with gun in hand, sighting dark trees and lofty street lamps. She checked the cameras at the communications post to find the roof and the underside clear from external threats.
"Clear. All clear."
"Everyone okay? Everyone good? Talk t'me," said Borgoff.
Canned peaches and pork and beans clattered and rolled as Nolt rose from a kitchenware pile and shook head. A hotheaded Kyle snickered.
"Gee, just fine and dandy, Borgoff, to ask you what the fuck was that all about?!"
Borgoff scowled.
"I jus' saved all yer asses! Now simmer down, Scrawny, ya hear?!"
He faced the road and palmed Kyle on the shoulder.
"Got more dyin' questions, save it fer when we get there." He nudged head at the wheel. "Take over, would ya?"
Kyle supplanted the driver seat. Borgoff clenched firm hands with Nolt and helped him up feet, slapping the dust off him.
"And, Nolt, get the fuel settled. Get the mess sorted while yer at it."
He saw Leila lifting the IV stand and comforting Grove. Borgoff palmed her shoulder.
"I think Grove can manage jus' fine, Leila. I could use yer eyes."
"Roger."
With Leila gone, Borgoff went on knee by Grove.
"Grove."
Grove shifted gaze.
"We need ya more than ever, Grove. I need yer head in the game." Borgoff clenched his hands with his. "Can ya do that fer me, brother?"
Twitching a smile, Grove clenched back with the little strength he mustered.
"I am here for you, brother. Always."
Borgoff grinned.
"Good. Good. Knew I could count on ya."
He headed front and slumped on the passenger seat by Kyle. Pinching a cigar, he dropped it once the butt tipped his dry lips. Borgoff retrieved it, guillotined the cap, and bit it. Smoke puffed the moment it lit and he blew a shaky sigh as his gaze wandered the ceiling. As he let wind breeze him, the engine drown the beating thoughts, and light off the dashing street lamps lull his eyes shut. Urine soiled his crotch, trickling down the boot. It pooled his sole. Terror rebounded on Grove. His eyes enlarged like he went unfettered out a binding nightmare.
"It spoke to me, Leila. She spoke to me."
Leila kept a lookout across at the adjacent aperture. His breath shuddered on.
"Kill."
Unkempt hair stranded down the window as Leila glanced back at Grove who glared her direction. Next the writhing tongue.
Kill.
Bloody claws dug the mesh. Bottomless sockets pierced his very soul. Its death rattle chanted on.
KILL. KILL. KILL.