As I studied the monster, blood dribbled from its chin and streamed down its neck.
The thing’s upper half flopped over the edge of the hole, like some unseen beast was birthing it into our sheltered, once-bright world. It now hung at the waist, its arms stretching and stretching until those huge hands hit the ground. The hole was much too small for anything to pass through, and the sharpness around the edge of the metal wall cut into the monster’s flesh, but the more it pushed into the opening, the more of its skin sloughed off.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run.
But I could do none of these things.
It looked up at me with its flat yellow eyes and grinned. “Why the long face, Grady?”
It then landed on the concrete, the sound of a slimy fish flopping on the bow of a little boat as it struggled for breath.
Slowly, it rose to its feet, which were as long and unnatural as its hands. Naked as the day it was born—if such a thing is born and not assembled in Hell—I saw how not only its face was smashed inward and twisted, but so were parts of its torso, its knees, its genitals.
Ramsey snagged my hood and pulled me into the dark theater. I flew back, landed on my ass, and rolled until I thudded against the far wall. The breath rushed from my lungs, and I found myself wheezing. Air of any kind would’ve been fine—smoky, smoggy, even the icy variety—but my desire for light trumped my desire to breathe, believe it or not. I struck the lighter, which was somehow still clenched between my fingers, before I could catch my breath.
I almost wished I hadn’t.
Just as the monster outside wrapped its fingers around the jamb, Ramsey slammed the door shut. There was a soft crunch and a wailing from the other side. The fingers waggled, preventing the lock from catching.
Still gasping, I hauled myself up to my feet and threw all of my weight into the entryway. A snick and a louder crunch cracked through the air as the lock caught and three fingers dropped to the floor.
Thud-thud-thud.
“The lighter,” Ramsey said. “Hurry!”
Surprisingly, and I don’t know how, it was still in my grip. Shaking, I struck the wheel, but the sweat coating my palms made it difficult to do, and it took four tries before the flame brought much-needed brightness to the theater’s interior.
Again, I almost wished it hadn’t.
Ramsey and I stared at the carpeted floor in horror. The fingers weren’t unmoving like they should’ve been; they inched toward us, like gray worms.
I stomped on the closest two while Ramsey crushed the other. Outside of the door, the monster shrieked, but only for a moment…because the shrieking turned into the mocking laughter of before.
The smeared gray flesh and bone beneath my boots hadn’t disappeared, and I knew it wouldn’t until we burned it. So I put the flame on them. Here, the laughter stopped, and the flattened gray worms disappeared into a puff of dark smoke.
But the monster still had another hand and five more fingers. It scratched at the door with them from the other side, and it would continue to do so until we got the lights back on.
If we got the lights back on.
Ramsey had a few flashlights. They weren’t much good in the way of brightness, but hey, it beat the hell out of the dark.
He stored them in Auditorium 3, where he kept a bunch of other random junk. Once he located the goods and handed me one, I turned it on. The beam was dim, but it was better than the small flame of my Bic.
Newly equipped with flashlights, we rushed to the cafe. As we approached, I heard Mia’s heavy breaths and shouts of pain. Ell and Stone were trying to calm her down. Not much luck there.
I entered with Ramsey close behind.
“What the hell happened?” Stone shouted by the fireplace, where he was stoking the flames and giving the cafe much-needed light and warmth.
Eleanor let go of Mia’s hand and darted across the room into my arms. She buried her face in my jacket. “I heard gunshots. Grady, I thought you were dead, but I couldn’t leave Mia—”
“I’m all right, Ell, don’t worry.” This might’ve been the biggest lie I’d ever told in my life because I was far from all right. I was damn near insane with fear. Still, I spoke calmly. “How is she?”
“Just fuckin’ peachy!” Mia answered from her spot near the fireplace. “FYI: Ell made me take my pants off so my vajee is hangin’ out under this blanket. And trust me, it ain’t something you wanna see.”
I made a point of averting my eyes toward the ceiling when I faced Mia. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Anytime.”
Ell cracked a slight smile. “Yeah…as you can see, Mia’s good, for the most part. And definitely still herself—so far.” She lowered her voice. With the wind, Ramsey’s frantic telling of what went down in the Battery Box to Stone, and Mia’s rhythmic breathing, I doubted anyone would’ve heard her anyway. “Grady, I don’t know what I’m doing. I was studying to be a nurse, yeah, but most of it was just learning out of books and from boring PowerPoint presentations… I never got to do much hands-on stuff, not as much as I’d like. And I was nowhere close to delivering babies.”
“It’s gonna be okay.”
“Her contractions are about twelve minutes apart. It’s still early, we still have time, I think, but they’re only supposed to be mild at this point, and each time she has one it’s like she’s being murdered.”
I shrugged, telling myself not to worry. Remain calm. Keep a level head.
“Some people deal with pain
