Breathe Deep Fear Vol. 1 Read online

  His fingers dug painfully into his knees.

  Abandoning them wasn’t an option. They had come too far as a group, and they were completely dependent on him in this situation. He could care less about the armed jerks, but those two meant far too much to him. There was too much history to let them down.

  His eyes drifted up to Wolf and Hawk as they talked quietly over by the window.

  He couldn’t depend on them.

  The door rattled as the monsters began to pound against it.

  If they were truly adapting, he needed to assume they could do so quickly. Any stragglers could adapt to a new situation given enough time, so they needed to be taken out in one shot. The only thing that came to mind was an explosion, a big one. His two stalkers didn’t appear to carry anything like that on them, and a couple of grenades wouldn’t do the job.

  The scratching started. He could almost feel each frustratingly thin layer of wood being stripped away, each last atom of protection removed. It probably wasn’t that difficult since the door was nothing more than inexpensive composite board.

  Why did so many people have to be so damn cheap in this town?

  Like a strike of lighting, he bolted to his feet. Mort was the cheapest out of all of them. The gas station owner did everything under the table, and code enforcers didn’t even know the place existed. There probably wasn’t a single safety feature enabled in that place. Everyone knew it. Mort was just lucky people really liked him and gave fuel away for cheap.

  There were so many trucks that stopped by; Mort probably had tons of gas to fill all of them.

  Those tanks of less-than-legally acquired fuel just sat under the station, one spark away from everything spiraling out of control.

  “How well can those things track?”

  Cale pulled on his sticky jacket as he posed the question. The gas station was on the other side of town, almost a straight shot from where they were. He could make it, and the bloody coat would have to be like a nightlight for the crowd. They’d frenzy if he was lucky.

  “They can hunt down a warm body within ten miles.” Wolf looked over at him. “They’re scary that way.”

  “Do they pick prey? Like, will they go after the most vulnerable target?”

  “Sort of, it depends on whether or not they can get to you.”

  “So, if I were to run around the streets by myself with a blood soaked jacket, would they leave here and chase after me?”

  Cale could almost feel the grin from behind Wolf’s helmet. It was startling how much the man could portray while covered from head to toe. An aspect almost as unsettling as the fact he was excited by a reckless idea.

  Hawk was fairly easy to read as well and was much less enthusiastic.

  “You go nuts, or you got a plan, Kid?”

  “If I blow up the gas station, we can kill all of them.” Cale jogged over to the window and pointed to the left. “It’s basically two blocks that way. I’m sure you saw it from the roof.”

  “It won’t work. The fresh ones will be on you almost as soon as you make it. The rotten ones will take at least another ten minutes.”

  “Besides, you’re in no condition to make it.”

  He shook his head at her interjection.

  “I know this town like my backyard. I can make it. As far as the monsters, one of you can pick off stragglers from the roof tops.”

  “Just one?”

  “The other one makes sure nothing comes through that door and harms Sam and Dean.”

  “You should just drop the fur balls. We could all get out of here easily and start picking off the rest without them.”

  Cale’s eyes narrowed and looked straight into Wolf’s visor.

  “Not happening. I have my reasons and just leave it at that. You want me to help clean up this mess of yours? You protect my friends. It’s a simple trade.”

  For a moment, everyone stared at each other in an uneasy silence, testing their resolve, against the others. Slowly, Wolf started to chuckle softly. It steadily grew into boisterous laughter, until the man had thrown his head back and was cackling openly.

  “Hawk. You guard ass licker one and two.” Wolf climbed out of the window. “I’ll cover the kid.”

  Cale gave his gun a once over and headed towards the window on the other side of the room. The monsters were piling in through the doorway below, not one had attempted to climb up toward the window. It gave some small assurance to his assumptions.

  Knocking the glass out with the butt of his gun, he kicked one leg out. Clawed fingers tore through the door as he stuck the other leg out. Hawk readied her gun as he gave the rapidly shredding door and her one last look. Sam trotted up, Dean’s new crate in mouth, and gave a short whine.

  “Stay.”

  He hopped out, landing on a zombie in a crunching mixture of dust and gore. The bulk of the crowd barely had a chance to turn as he rolled to his feet and fired into them. He tore off down the back alley, not giving them the chance to surround him. The horde let out a series of grunts and snarls, thunderous footsteps almost immediately followed.

  It sounded like he had their attention.

  Chapter

  11

  Cale cursed his lack of planning as he dropped another monster trying to surprise him from around a corner. Things had sounded so simple when he talked about the gas station. Just run straight for it, light it, and get out. But on the ground, things were more complicated than he had wanted to believe. Should he stay in the back alleys to limit their numbers, but risked getting bottlenecked? Or was it better to stay in the open where Wolf could get a clear line of sight?

  Glancing over his shoulder at a snort, five of the clawed things chased after him – and gaining.

  He ducked around the next corner and sprinted toward the main road, passing a propane tank. Spinning on his heel, he aimed as the attackers came into view and fired at the valve. The buckshot tore off the spigot in a shower of sparks; propane escaping through the gap and igniting. The tank seemed to swell in slow motion, and Cale barely rounded the next corner before a mighty bang nearly knocked him off his feet.

  Flames filled the back alley, bathing everything in an odorous heat.

  Eyes wide, and an unspoken plea on his lips, he took off again. Hopefully, the town wouldn’t be burned to the ground by morning. There was no telling how bad the gas station was going to be. Would the team Wolf and Hawk spoke of put out the fires, or were they going to bury the town and the history of what was happening?

  Two hundred feet to the gas station remained. Questions could wait. The streetlight cast long shadows up and down the town’s primary intersection. There was no way to tell what was living, moving, or just flickering illusion. He paused for a moment. Why had everything gone silent? His wary gaze swept over the deserted storefronts. Seconds ago, there had been a riot of snarls, hisses, and other nightmarish sounds.

  Now, it was like everything had stopped except from his own ragged breathing.

  Fear gripped his throat as a cold spot formed in his gut.

  Had those things doubled back to the general store? There wasn’t any gunfire so had they been overrun, or did the armor clad bastards abandon them to save their own skin? His hands clenched around the gun. Should he head back? Wolf wasn’t on the roofline. It had been pure desperation that forced him to entrust his two most important things to them. Damn it, he had been so stupid!

  A glass bottle clinked and rolled out from the shadows to his feet, tearing his attention back to reality. A bloody handprint marred the clear surface of the empty beer container. The blue and green label was mostly obscured by the red, but he would recognize that pattern anywhere.

  It was the crud made at the local brewery, if a basement could be called a brewery. Only the owners drank it willingly, the Guts brothers. He bit his bottom lip as his trembling hands reached down to pick it up. As eccentric as the brothers were, the two of them were always friendly. They always had bucket loads of candy for any kid who showed up on Hal
loween and always got the community together for a big Fourth of July party. How many times had they been the first ones on the scene when an extra pair of hands was needed?

  Sure, they were too smashed and out of shape to be of much help, but the heart was in the right spot.

  Tears pricked at his eyes as they slowly lifted up to peer into the shadows. His home, his friends, it was all dead and rotting because of these God-forsaken creatures. It was just him, standing in the middle of a deserted road as it hid things from a nightmare. For the first time since he got Sam, he felt utterly alone.

  And it made him furious.

  He flung the bottle as hard as he could into the dark. If anything happened to Sam and Dean, he’d just shatter – shatter, why didn’t the bottle shatter?

  There was another soft clink, and the bottle was rolled back out to his feet just like before.

  “Come on.” His voice was hidden under his breath. “Come on you sons of a-!”

  The area erupted into a deafening blend of roars, shrieks, and cries. Seemingly forming from the shadows, dozens of creatures went to surround him. He gritted his teeth and sprinted for the gas station on a rapidly shrinking path, popping a few shells in to keep his ammo count up. His lungs burned from the cold, rancid air, the lactic acid in his legs robbing more of his strength with each step.

  He pushed through the last of them and removed the roll of duct tape from his jacket pocket. Eyes locked onto the pumps, his legs pushed harder as he tore a long strip of tape off with his teeth. Just a few moments of lead time was all he needed. If they were just slow enough for him to get a few meager moments, he’d be ready.

  Yanking the nozzle from the pump, he shoddily squeezed the lever and wrapped the tape around it. Grabbing another pump, his eyes darted up as a shadow covered him. He leapt back as a monster dove for him and fired into its face. The thing fell back, and he finished tying the pump on as the horde came within spitting distance.

  He dodged the closest ones and kicked out the glass door leading to the mini mart, the glass showering his boots as he ran inside. Piling the closest snack racks in front of the doorway, his heart leapt into his throat as he saw the sheer amount swarming the station. There were that many?

  He picked up the slushy machine with a grunt and jammed it up against the makeshift barricade, a zombie head bursting through the chips right by his face. The buckshot decapitated it with a squeeze of the trigger.

  He dived over the counter, knocking over the container filled with day old pizza. Mort always ducked under here when someone needed a fill up, so there had to be some type of control panel or something. The building was shaking as creatures pounded on the cracking windows. Spotting a little green light, he flicked the switch and the pumps hummed to life. The smell of gas almost immediately became noticeable.

  The snack barricade toppled over, unleashing a wave into the mart.

  He leapt back over the counter and started firing into the writhing mass. Every last one of them had to be in range. The smell of rotting flesh and gasoline was nauseating, even overpowering, but this was the one chance they had. If they were okay, then he couldn’t afford to mess this up. The gun clicked empty and gas started to wash in the door.

  How high did Mort have the pumps running?

  He ran into the bathrooms as another batch sloshed through the gas after him. Slamming the bathroom door shut, he jumped up onto the toilet and tore the ventilation grate out of the wall then climbed in. The cramped space nudged his shoulders while sliding forward.

  “Please, don’t get stuck.”

  The creatures snarled from underneath the vent as the metal fasteners groaned from his added weight. Pitch black and musty, it was like jumping from the woods into a coffin. Only the cool air hitting his face gave him any reassurance of an exit.

  Reaching the end, he rolled onto his back and grinned at the starry sky above. He pulled himself out onto the roof with a grunt and went over to the edge. The things crowded under the overhang above the pumps as they crammed themselves into the mart. The gas pooled out freely into the street, effectively covering the entire crowd. No more appeared in the distance. Hopefully, this was all of them.

  He tossed all but one last shell over the edge. Might as well add some gunpowder and shrapnel into the mix. Loading the remaining one into the gun, he aimed at bare piece of pavement next to the encroaching gas and fired.

  The bullets struck the hard ground like a flint; sparks showering onto the flammable stream.

  His hair blew back as everything was colored orange and bathed in fire. The flames rushed into the mart, consuming everything in their path. The monsters shrieked as they were baked into charcoal and the flames burned hotter. Cale guarded his face with his arms as he backed away from the edge.

  The ground beneath him exploded, and he was thrown high into the sky.

  Chapter

  12

  The spirals of fire swirled up around him as he blasted through the air, the ungodly heat sucking the air from his lungs. He couldn’t see, or move, or scream as flesh seared and smoked. The flames danced merrily, and forced him to dance along with them.

  Crashing onto the dusty ground, a lungful of ash and smoke was violently expelled.

  Even with his eyes clenched shut; he could feel the flames eating away at his jeans and hair, only the blood soaked coat providing any real defense.

  Something grabbed him roughly and rolled with him, thrashing him against the ground and beating down on him. Terror gripped at his chest. How did one of them escape? Were they already chewing on him? It was impossible to tell through the singed nerves. Fight back, move- damn it move!

  But his body didn’t respond. It just remained limp as the shadow mauled him into oblivion.

  And he couldn’t even scream.

  * * *

  Dozens of figures, cloaked in black armor, moved through the town in silence, sweeping from house to house for any sign of movement. They would stop only when they came across blood. Pulling out some kind of aerosol can, a fine spray was coated on the biological matter, sizzling and dissolving the blot in moments. Any body parts were also sprayed and then stuffed into thick bags and sealed.

  In a matter of minutes, all trace of the monsters was erased. The only evidence that anything had occurred was the destroyed gas station.

  One of the armored figures clicked on their radio twice. Ten minutes later, a large helicopter landed in the main intersection of the town. They quickly entered the copter and then dragged out filled body bags. The bags were hurriedly carried into the houses and emptied of their contents.

  The figures locked the doors to the homes and headed back to the helicopter. Taking off in a swirl of dust, the town was left silent, peaceful, and ignorant.

  * * *

  Cale awoke with a raspy groan, his throat cracking and flaking as it stretched. Ears ringing and skin burning, his body ached or hurt in some other creative way that was new to him. He honestly felt like he had been blown up- wait.

  Struggling to sit up, vinyl straps held him tight to a stiff board. His eyes cracked open, gathering a blurry murky mess. He was on a stretcher of some kind, wrapped up in a blanket, and somewhere rather cramped. What happened? Why wouldn’t his eyes focus?

  Where was he?

  A dry croak escaped his mouth as he tried to call out.

  “You should relax, Kid. We’re still a few hours away from getting you put back together.”

  Cale turned his head toward the voice, his charred skin stretching and pulling. How badly had he been burned? It was tough to tell as he was, wrapped up like some kind of Christmas present. The last thing he clearly remembered was igniting the gas. Everything was fuzzy after that.

  A dark blob appeared in his field of vision. It took a moment, but slowly the figure gained enough detail Cale could make out who it was.

  “So how do you like being overcooked; or is extra crispy a better term?”

  How could that bastard be so amused at a moment like
this? For that matter, why was he there now after his disappearance at the town?

  The town!

  “Sa- Sam. Dean?”

  Airy and weak, Cale forced the words to come out. He could ignore that it sounded, and felt, like someone was strangling him.

  “Back at your home, waiting for Uncle Henry and Auntie Em to come home.”

  “Who?”

  “You’ve never seen the Wizard of Oz kid?” Wolf rested what resembled his gun on his lap as he sat down next to the stretcher. “Anyway, your family is going back to your place tomorrow. Hawk made sure the ass lickers had plenty of food until then.”

  “The - monsters?”

  “You got them all. By the time the cleanup crew showed, all of the zombies were charcoal steaks.”

  “What abo- about the town?”

  Why was talking so painful? He had too many questions to be struggling with every word.

  “Your town is back to its quaint boring self. Everyone will wake up tomorrow and wonder what happened.”

  “What?”

  Cale felt his heart rate pickup. The monsters could be reverted back to human? No, that wasn’t it. Had there been survivors? Had a miracle really happened?

  The idea made him so happy he almost cried.

  “Kid, our main job is to keep these little incidents off the morning news, but our secondary purpose is to keep people from becoming zombie chow. The flesh eaters got ahead of us this time - a first - but we still managed to save over seventy percent of the locals.”

  “Then- where were … they?”

  “We knocked them all out with some sleeping gas and loaded them up onto this helicopter. We turned the town into a battlefield, won, and then cleaned up any monster bits. Then, we put the people back where they dropped and issued a nice little story about how a terrorist cell attempted to release a nerve agent, but the good old army stepped in and administered an antidote in time for most people. Unfortunately, several people were killed ahead of time by the terrorists. A fire fight broke out and destroyed a local gas station. The press will eat it up, the people will be grateful, and no one will know about the zombies. Perfect, ain’t it?”