Husk

terrible cry, and the creature dropped over him like a ravenous wolf tearing at a deer carcass.

Shutting out the sounds of ripping flesh and breaking bones, Tim did the only thing he could: he rushed to aid Mallory. He had to act while the monster remained blinded by its fury, unaware of anything other than its current victim. He ran to her side and wrapped his arms around her.

Mallory lolled in his grasp while he moved her to the hatchway, but she managed to work her way outside on her own. Tim followed her out the second she stumbled clear, then turned and heaved shut the silo’s access hatch, slamming its locking bar in place. He could still hear Derrick’s cries howling through the silo’s inner chamber, aware the sounds would forever echo through his future. He dared not to think about it while he hoisted Mallory back into his arms and helped her across the empty lot in front of the barn.

Side by side, they shuffled toward the cars.

Don’t worry. I’ll get you to safety, Mallory. Even if you hate me for the rest of your life, I won’t let that thing take you, too.

But looking at her now, he wondered if he’d be able to keep that promise. Already drenched with blood, Mallory’s shirt clung to her body like a second skin. And the effects of its loss were starting to show. Her body sagged in his grasp; her eyes wandered.

“Tim, I’m hurt,” she mumbled.

“I know, but you’ll be all right,” he said. “Keep pressure on the cut.”

“It doesn’t feel too bad… I’m so sorry for earlier.”

She’s going into shock.

“Just hold it tight,” he coaxed, slipping his hand over hers. He pressed down, feeling the warm skin of her breast and the wetness of blood. “It’ll be fine.”

They went several yards in silence, Tim’s breath coming in ragged gusts.

“Is Elsa okay?” Mallory asked.

“I don’t know.”

“I hope…” She trailed off, gaping skyward. “Oh, the barn’s on fire.”

He looked up to see enormous flames spreading above the building, casting light clear to the clouds.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her. “Just keep going. We have to hurry.”

They were still forty feet from the vehicles when the silo’s access hatch wailed and moaned. He turned to see the metal door lurch back and forth against its lock, visible in the firelight. The concrete around its frame cracked and crumbled.

Oh, crap.

Driving Mallory faster, he ushered her toward Derrick’s Mercedes, mindful of the fact that neither of the cars would have keys in them. He had no idea of how to hot-wire an ignition, so the engine’s capabilities weren’t part of his concern. The German automobile was the closest car to them, and since Tim wasn’t certain how much longer Mallory would remain conscious, he wanted to get her out of sight before she passed out.

He hurried Mallory around to the passenger-side door and opened it one-handed. Moving carefully, he eased her into the seat, reclining it backward. He cringed at her moans of discomfort, knowing the shock of her injury would eventually recede, and she’d soon begin to feel the true extent of its damage. Still, he had no choice but to rush.

The silo access hatch bent, cracked. The lament of its metal wailed into the night.

Tim looked across the Mercedes’s hood and shuddered when the small door ripped inward, vanishing along with huge chunks of its surrounding concrete.

How strong is that thing?

Wasting no time, he went to the driver’s side and opened the—

“Hey, man,” a voice called.

Tim whirled about and saw Becky, Adam, and Lisa approaching.

“Where’s the guy?”

“How’d the barn start on fire?”

“What happened to Mallory?”

Rather than answer them, he threw a disquieted glance to the silo just in time to see the creature step out of the darkness.

“There’s no time to explain. Lisa, does your brother have a spare set of keys?”

The others had also noticed the advancing figure, and they all moved closer to the car, ready to dive for cover.

“Is that him,” Becky asked, “the guy that shot at us?”

“Keys,” Tim demanded. “Is there a spare or not?”

“N-no,” Lisa stuttered. “They’re at home.”

The dummy closed the distance with long strides, only forty feet away now. The glowing light had vanished from its eye sockets, leaving them dark and lifeless.

Thirty feet.

Twenty-five.

Unable to come up with a better idea, Tim opened the driver-side door.

“Everyone in the car,” he said.

They locked themselves in, Mallory and Tim occupying the two front seats while the others got in the back. Tim punched on the car’s cigarette lighter, wondering if maybe he could burn the creature’s current body once it came close enough, thereby gaining them some time to flee.

Everyone held their breath while the walking abomination of cloth, tape, rubber, and wire strode forward. The eerie details of its silhouetted appearance became clearer with each closing step.

The lighter popped out, ready for use. Tim made no move for it.

The dummy approached the front driver-side window and tapped the knife against the glass, staring coldly at him through empty eyeholes. The beast bent forward, bringing its sinister face closer, and everyone in the car screamed when a human hand burst from its rubber lips and smacked against the glass.

The severed limb clawed at the window with momentary life then fell limp and slipped from the thing’s mouth, leaving a thin trail of blood on the rubber lips when it dropped to the ground.

Tim gaped, but then noticed the firelight flickering across the creature’s face had taken on curiously new colors. Besides the yellow-orange of the fire, there flashed red, white, and blue.

Tim jerked around in his seat and looked out the back window, exhilarated to see the wavering beacons of a squad car making a cautious advance past the barn.

“The cops,” Becky cheered.

“Thank God!”

Tim laid his palm on the Mercedes’s horn to signal the nearing cruiser.

Yes, he thought to himself, witnessing the beast take a step away. We made it. We’re safe, and Mallory will be okay. We’ll get her to a doctor and she’ll be fine.

He was confident that in the presence of authority, the killer would withdraw, no doubt wishing to keep its inhuman presence hidden, like it had at the church. It would come after them later, of course, but at least they’d have time to convince others of its existence and devise some kind of a defense. The creature would probably take great satisfaction in leaving them facing a barrage of unanswerable questions, labeled suspects in regard to the fire and the four murdered teens, their only explanation of what had occurred an incredible tale no one would believe.

Alongside the Mercedes, the suicide dummy collapsed, dropping to the ground where it broke apart, reduced to ordinary scrap.

Tim fell back in the seat and exhaled a heavy breath of relief, looking to Mallory.

“I think it’s gone,” he said.

Functioning by itself, the Mercedes’s engine turned over and revved into operation.

The lights flicked on.

The instrument panel glowed.

“What are you doing?” Adam shouted.

Tim shook his head, equally puzzled. Before he could word a reply, the car sprung forward, flailing twin tails of gravel and dirt as it sped off to an unknown destination.