Authors: Ryan C. Thomas
Martin had heard enough. He knew there was something way off about Horris, something his instinct was telling him not to trust, and this confirmed it. He hadn
’
t thought it would involve people locked up in basements, but he knew it was something. Screw the money, he thought, screw this job, I need to get out of here.
“
Pleeeeaase,
”
the voice moaned.
Martin put the phone back, walked to the door.
“
Okay,
”
he said. The lock for the door was on this side. He turned it, grabbed the knob. It turned easily with a faint click. As he opened the door, the phone rang, the lights flicker
ed, and from somewhere close
by Horris yelled,
“
Don
’
t!
”
***
Burke was staring out the window, chewing on his lips and breathing rapidly. He spun back and glared at Martin with hateful eyes.
“
And whatever was on the other side came out. You let it out. What was it?
”
The building shifted sideways as something enormous slammed into it. Both Martin and Burke fell to the ground. Chairs flew into the walls and the interrogation table flipped over and landed on its s
ide. Someone out in the bullpen
screamed bloody murder. A gunshot, fired in panic, rang out and hit the bulletproof Plexiglas. Then
,
whatever had hit the building was gone, moving down the street, setting off car alarms, tearing down building facades, gouging into the road and bursting the pipes underneath. Martin didn
’
t see any of this, but he could feel it.
Burke yanked Martin to his feet, sat him down in one of the twisted chairs.
“
What! Came! Out!
”
“
I dunno,
”
Martin replied.
“
It was…
it was...something rushed past me, something large and wet and…the smell made me puke. All over the floor. And when I looked up again, they were getting out of the building.
”
“
Who? What? Tell me.
”
“
I don
’
t know.
”
“
Where was the blond man?
”
“
He ran into the room, he tried to close the door. He was—
”
Martin saw it in his mind, as it repl
ayed in a short loop. The blond
man rushing in, his neck whipping about like a ribbon in the wind, his eyes pure white without pupils.
“
What did I tell you, Martin?
” he’d said.
“
I said not to open the door. Do you know how long it will take me to get them back in? Eons.
”
From the door, maggots the size of a cows slithered out, one after another, each with the faintest hint of a human face, each smiling and whispering
freedom freedom freedom to eat eat eat
. Past Horris and Martin they slithered, up the stairs and out towards the mid-afternoon sun. As they went they grew larger and larger, taking out doorframes and bulging the hallway
’
s walls.
“
Your inability to trust has just cost mankind its life,
”
Horris said, his neck whipping to and fro, no longer trying to conceal its otherworldly qualities.
“
But I…What are—
”
“
Feeders, Martin, for those who are so vile that my world is too good for them. And
you
’
ve let them loose. I warned you, I told you not to open it. All you had to do was your job, but you couldn
’
t. You
’
re fired. Get out.
”
Martin grabbed his coat off the chair near the computer and ran to the emergency exit at the opposite end of the hallway, up the stairs and out into the bright sun. He stood by his car, wiping puke off his chin, staring wide eyed at the scene around him. Giant maggots with human faces gliding down the nearby residential streets at locomotive speeds. He tried not
to
think about what he
’
d seen when grabbing his jacket. The list on the floor near his feet, his name magically being added to the bottom by some invisible hand. He screamed, started the car, and drove to the police station.
Burke was terrified, but he was al
so angry, and Martin knew he
was the focus. The
large cop looked down at him
and kept shaking his head. Blood ran from his military tattoos, cut when he was thrown to the floor.
“
My wife is gone, Martin. They said the whole street was just gone, houses and all, nothing but dirt and scraps of wood. My wife, Martin!
”
“
I didn
’
t know,
”
Martin said.
“
How could I know? I just want to go home, play with my dog.
”
“
You have no home anymore, Martin. None of us do. Shit, do you see it out there? It
’
s nothing but death and destruction. Giant worms everywhere you look. Jesus Christ, Martin, I don
’
t know exactly what you did, or how you managed to do it, but you
’
ve brought us hell on E
arth. You fucked us, Martin, and you killed my wife! You…you…I
’
m placing you under arrest.
”
Martin stood up.
“
What!
”
Burke shoved him against the wall, hard, took out his handcuffs, and latched him to a metal bar in the wall that was installed for just such a purpose.
“
Shut up, Martin. Here
’
s the thing. People are gonna want someone to blame for this, when and if it goes away. And I
’
m gonna be the cop who caught the guy that did it. Get me? This kind of thing, people need to know someone paid the price. I need to know you paid the price too. It
’
s human nature, Martin. Trust me, I
’
m a cop and I know. People need balance, otherwise it
’
s chaos and disorder. It
’
s an eye for an eye.
”
“
But I didn
’
t—
”
“
Don
’
t matter, Martin. You
’
re gonna help the world get over this soon as we figure out how to stop it.
If we can.
And the first thing I
’
m gonna do
when the dust settles
is get out a press release with your photo on it, give everyone something to look forward to. Then I
’
m locking you up forever.
”
“
But what about Horris? He
’
s the guy--
”
“
What Horris! Horris who! We sent ten units to that warehouse! We looked all over, Mar
t
in, there
’
s no Horris! There
’
s no computer. No red door.
No sign of anyone. It
’
s been abandoned for years. Only thing there was a printout with your name written on it over and over and a lot of
weird
symbols painted on the walls.
”
Burke went to the window once again, stared out mesmerized the way a child does when he sees Santa Claus at the mall for the first time.
“
One of these things said your name, Martin, right before it ate a patrolman. Said your name like it was saying grace. It
’
s your fault, Martin. All your fault. You did this to us. Whatever occult bullshit you were playing with. Holy Mary, mother of God...
”
The building shook, screams filled the air, helicopters and fighter jets rumbled in the distance. A giant shadow lumbered down the city street, blocked out the sun for a minute,
and then was gone. Martin cried
, thinking about his dog.
“I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”
But he knew now where he would eventually end up.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ryan C. Thomas is an award-winning journalist, author, an
d musician living in San Diego. You can find him in the bars on the weekends playing in his bands The Buzzbombs and Cash’d Out. When he’s not writing or rocking out, he’s either reading comics or watching really cheesy movies. Visit him online at
www.ryancthomas.com
Novels by Ryan C. Thomas:
The Summer I Died
Born To Bleed
Hissers
The Undead World of Oz
Ratings Game
Novellas:
With a Face of Golden Pleasure
(availa
ble in Elements of the Apocalyp
se by Permuted Press)
Enemy Unseen
(available in Headshot Quartet by Permuted Press)
Choose
(available in Malcontents by Grand Mal Press)