ALIEN INVASION Read online

Page 10


  “I let the Uzi do what it was designed for. It almost kicked out of my hands as the first burst of bullets cut into the chest of the teacher. His white shirt looked like a used tampon soon enough, soon enough for me to have sufficient time to swing my little Embarrassment Eraser, that was my pet name for the gun, at the students trying to scramble through the door.

  “Their backs became a crimsoned soggy mess and moments later there was a pile of mangled bodies intertwined. Blood was pooling from under them as I threw my gun to the deck and stamped my feet, a pure tantrum over not bringing enough darn bullets to finish them all off. You see, there was one classmate left. The cow with the don’t-fuck-with-me branding.”

  She was fucking orbital. She was Pluto; she was so out there. I didn’t know what to make of what she was telling me. I tried to be repulsed, just like I had been with Bobby, but it was like she had cast a spell on me. I was hypnotized.

  “She was trying to step over the bodies when I grabbed hold of her silken ponytail and tugged her hard enough to make her fall on her ass. I wrapped her hair around my hand and clenched my fist. I placed a foot in between her legs and used it to push them wide enough so I could step in the space and kneel facing her.

  “She didn’t look as pretty as she usually did. She was sporting the Alice Cooper look. Her makeup had run, caused by the tears that were streaming from her baby blues. I licked one of the droplets off a cheek; it had a taste of salt and fear.”

  I wanted to have a taste too.

  “I used my other hand to take hold of her neck. I dug my nails in to get a tight grip and started to squeeze, blood animated out from under my nails as I did. She grabbed the wrist of the hand that was choking her. She tried to pull it free but had no luck.

  “Her eyes bulged. Her chest flatlined. The tears dried up. Her complexion now painted white. The dead-look EMO thing, but this was real … It wasn’t really; it was all in my noggin, the shooting bit anyway. But I wish it had been real. Since then, since my little daydream, I’ve had a connection to violence and sex. Sometimes, when I touch myself I think about violence in the same way people think of sex. Bobby just shocked me at first; I’ve never seen real violence before. I want to see some more though. Let’s get the hammer and saw.”

  She was beaming, she had a … glow, that’s the only way I can describe it. She had never looked so beautiful. I had never been so turned on. “Okay, let’s fuck.”

  The room began to shake. My piles of shit started to tumble. The papers on my desk slid off. There was a thunderous rumble sounding all around. Sara took hold of me and we walked on unsteady legs to the desk. Then we hid under it as it shook around us, knocking off us a few times. I thought it was going to bounce up and flip upside down at one point.

  A god-awful whistling sound kicked in. I could hear dogs barking outside, it must have been hurting their ears, because it was killing mine, and it looked like Sara was having the same problem. We both covered our ears with our hands.

  The power cut off and the room went black. Then the shaking and whistling stopped. We removed our hands and the power flashed back for a few seconds, the lights came on, we heard alarms sounding outside, and then the power went out again as the bulbs in the ceiling exploded and a crack appeared in one of the walls. We both shared a look. We each had a confused expression and I think more than a liberal dose of shit-your-pants-terrified too.

  I couldn’t see any farther than Sara, it was too dark, but things seemed to have settled. I reached a shaking hand up onto the top of the desk and felt around for the drawer. Once I’d locked my fingers around the handle I pulled it open. I had to stretch in an odd manner but I was able to reach in and grab the flashlight.

  “Brad, what’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said as I turned on the flash and lit the office.

  A growl broke the silence. It was loud enough to hurt my head. Sara covered her ears again. Then I heard a roar, mixed with a terrible shrieking, and I covered mine too. I turned the flashlight off and held Sara close.

  I’m not sure how long had passed when I lit the flash again and removed my hands, time seemed a strange concept at that moment. Sara already had her hands free of her ears. “You hear that?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” We were speaking in whispers. Whatever it was, it was close. It sounded like it was coming from the gym. “What is it?”

  “It sounds like, munching, like someone’s eating something. Don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, I guess. Whatever it’s eating is chewy, it sounds like its tearing at it … Listen … Crunches … It’s also hard, strong, got some tougher sections.”

  “Do you think an animal got in the building, somehow knocked the power out, and is now eating Bobby?”

  “That doesn’t explain the earthquake.”

  “Perhaps that’s what scared it inside.”

  “Yeah, you could be right.”

  “We should go check.”

  “That sounds like a bad idea. Let’s just wait here, when the noise stops, and it’s fucked off, we’ll come out of hiding.”

  “What if it takes Bobby in it’s mouth and goes into the street?”

  “Won’t that be a good thing, we could say the animal killed him, not us.”

  “Do you think people would believe that?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Damn it.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I was looking forward to our date … and cutting the fingers off, smashing his teeth out of his mouth, all that good stuff.”

  “Sorry, Sara, change of plan.”

  “Couldn’t you go and have a look, I’ll come with you. I can’t leave my hero’s side.” She fluttered her eyelids.

  “Okay, I’ll go have a look. Keep hold of my hand though. Don’t stray too far from me.”

  “I would never do that. You’re stuck with me now, partner, joined at the hip, inseparable … soul mates.”

  I liked the sound of that, but not the sound coming from the gym. It sounded fleshy; something was chowing down on meat for sure. Human meat. “We do make a great team, don’t we?”

  “Yep.” She smiled then pointed at herself. “Brains.” Then she pointed at me. “Brawn.”

  “Is that a compliment?”

  “All heroes have brawn.”

  “Okay.” I smiled. She really did have some form of strange power over me.

  I scooted from under the desk, stayed on my knees, as I helped her up, and angled my flashlight so the beam was pointing at the floor when we both stood. “It might run when it sees the light, drag Bobby off,” I said.

  “Turn it off.”

  “It’s too dark.”

  “You’ve spent enough time in this place, use your built-in GPS.”

  “Okay.” I turned off the flashlight. The darkness fell on us in an instant. Sara grabbed hold of my hand. I jumped, tried not to make it obvious though.

  “You ready?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “When we get close, turn the flash on again, if it runs with Bobby in its mouth, we’ll grab him and pull him free. Make sure we’re close enough to reach his body first.”

  “It will be all guess work.”

  “I know. I trust you’ll figure it out.”

  I took two steps and felt Sara’s arm brush against mine as she followed. I held my other hand, the one with the flash, out in front, so when it hit into something I could stop before I hit my face into it.

  The flash clunked on something. By my figuring it was the doorframe. I waited there and gripped Sara’s hand tighter when I heard more crunches and slurps. I swallowed. It sounded like whatever was chewing on Bobby did the same. I took a step to the right, angling at where I guessed the opening of the door was, and pressed on.

  I felt my foot hit the start of the tatami mats in the gym. I took a deep breath and held it in. I heard Sara do the same. I stepped onto the matted floor and continued to walk slowly forward, toward the sound of the carnivorous glutton
y that was growing louder.

  The sound was the most disgusting when I was as close as I wanted to get. It was wet, sloppy. I could hear a dripping too. Like Bobby’s blood was plopping onto the tatamis.

  I pressed the hand that was holding Sara’s into her stomach, so she knew it was time to stop. Then with a finger on that hand I tapped her own, once. I brought the flashlight down to my body. I tapped my finger on her hand again. I moved my thumb on my other hand to the switch on the flash. I tapped her finger again and turned on the light.

  The beam showed teeth, heaps of them, dripping with blood, dripping slobber. They were sharp, long, thin, the light that was bouncing off them making them look diamond-like. They appeared to be in a massive mouth, one that had four jaws, all open, and aimed at Sara and me, a spine-tingling cry screeching.

  Something looked the color of black glass, rubbery practically, shiny, slimy, wet. Then a hand with three, long fingers rose, fixed with extended nails made of the same diamond-like material, into the light, reaching toward us.

  ZACK

  The next night, after college had finished, I arrived on set to start work on my screen début, wondering who had been cast as my victim for that night’s shoot. Miss Perkins hadn’t informed us which girl she’d chosen. She’d said everyone had done a great job, so she needed to go home to think things over before making a decision. I hadn’t seen anyone from my drama class that day to be able to ask them who had won the part.

  Also, when I say set, what I actually mean is, the basement that lay under the floor of our entire college, the place was massive, a maze. It was far from the glitz and glamour of what you’d imagine you’d see on the back lot of the latest studio blockbuster. It was cold. It was dark, and it was damp.

  Mikey was already there. He had already got the camera fixed on the tripod and was currently fitting together his homemade lighting rig. It didn’t look homemade. It looked pretty pro. He had spent the lunch break that day showing me the drawings he’d made of its design and telling me how he and his dad had constructed it together, working on the project every night after college for a week. Of course it wasn’t a money issue that caused them to spend the man-hours building it, it was more of a father-and-son-bonding-project.

  “Hi, Mikey, how’s things going, you almost ready to start shooting?” I placed my backpack next to the base of the tripod and tried to hear his response over the clanging machinery that formed an old boiler in the room we were in.

  “I’m almost ready. Could you get changed into your costume? You’ll find it in the bag over by the pipes on the far wall, it was one of the only dry sections of floor I could find.”

  “Sure,” I said as I started to walk to the pipes, hearing squelches under my feet as I did. It was so dark, even with the bare bulb that hung from the ceiling. I had to hold my hands out in front of myself to feel when I’d reached the wall the pipes were on; it really was the blackest of black in some areas.

  I was rummaging through the bag for my costume when I felt something bite at my finger. I quickly pulled my hand out of the bag, screaming, “Shit!” It was stinging something awful and I could feel something wet running down it. “Son of a bitch,” I added.

  Mikey turned to me and asked, “Are you okay?”

  “What the hell have you got in this bag?” I was trying to angle my finger to see what had happened to it, but it was no use. I’d have had to walk back toward the bulb, near the camera, to be able to see properly.

  “Oh, crap, I’m so sorry,” said Mikey.

  “Oh crap, what? Sorry for what?” I tried to make my eyes adjust to the dark by squinting them, so I could make out his expression, but that just made the place even darker and his expression more invisible.

  “I had to bring a real knife for the scene. I should have warned you. Sorry, man.”

  “You trying to tell me, I’ve cut my finger on a knife?”

  “Yeah, sorry. Is it deep?”

  “I’m not sure, I can’t see shit. And how are we supposed to do the scene with a real knife? That’s too dangerous.”

  “Come into the light and let me have a look.” I knew the voice instantly. It was Cynthia. I also started to panic about my reaction to the cut. I must have sounded like a big pussy.

  I held the hand with the cut finger by the wrist and headed toward the camera. When I was next to the tripod Cynthia walked into the light. My mouth almost hung open. She was already dressed in her costume.

  She had on a short, tight pencil skirt, showing off her stunning legs and her curves to their full potential, a white and brown flannel shirt, tied in a knot at the bottom, revealing her midriff, her flat stomach and her pierced bellybutton. She had a ponytail at each side of her head and geeky black-rimmed spectacles. She was the sexiest schoolgirl I’d ever seen. I swallowed and internally cursed myself for being such a wimp.

  She took hold of the hand with the cut finger and pulled it toward her. She angled it a few different ways, trying to get the crappy bulb to shed some light on the situation. “You’ll live,” she said, smiling, flashing her magnificently white teeth. “I’ll fix it up, and we’ll get you into your costume. Sound like a plan?”

  I just nodded. I was speechless. Her face had entranced me; her smile had locked me into a frozen position. The feel of her skin against mine was sending some kind of nervously anxious electricity through my body in a tingly way.

  I was expecting her to leave to get a Band-Aid, but she didn’t. She pulled my hand toward her face, angled my finger so it was pointing at her, and then she slid it into her mouth and started to suck.

  I was concerned I’d cream my pants. It felt amazing. I didn’t even consider the grossness of the situation, the fact she was drinking my blood. I focused on the warmth, the sucking action and her tongue glancing on and off my finger. I was so thankful of the dark; I needed it to hide what was happening in my trousers.

  She removed my finger, the tip brushing over her lips on the way out. I had to shut my eyes for a brief moment and let out a long, slow, silent breath. When I’d opened them, I could see her wetness glistening on my skin. She was smiling again as she said, “All done. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  I didn’t move. “Zack.” I didn’t speak. “Zack!” That one got my attention. It was Mikey. “Get your costume on.”

  “Yeah, sure.” I turned to walk back to the bag that had the costume. I threw a quick look over my shoulder. Cynthia was standing next to Mikey, looking over some script pages. I coughed, to try and clear my nervousness, and then I readjusted my trousers, which had become kinda tight.

  When I put my hand back in the bag, I was much more careful than I had been before. Although I did wonder if it was worth cutting myself on the knife again, just so I could get Cynthia to play vampire nurse once more.

  I found the sheet that was to be used as my costume. I established the eyeholes with my fingers and positioned them so I could slip it over my head without the embarrassment of stumbling around blind. Once I had it on the stupidity of the situation hit me.

  I turned toward Mikey. “Mikey, have you not considered a black guy wearing a white sheet with eyeholes might be a little uncomfortable.”

  “Why?” He seemed completely unaware.

  “Black people have had a long and troubled history with people with white sheets with eyeholes cut in them.”

  “Ah shit,” he said. I couldn’t see him too good, but I’m guessing he’d have looked concerned by that point. “I only chose it because it would show up on camera. I have a black sheet in my car. I could go and get that, cut two eyeholes in it. It would only take me a minute or two. What do you think?”

  “I’m thinking …”

  “Yeah?”

  “Which is more racist, a black guy wearing a black sheet or a white one?” I was just screwing with him, trying to make him feel as uncomfortable as possible. It seemed to work.

  “I’m so sorry, man. I’ll go and get the other sheet, if that’s okay with you?”
>
  “I’ve still not decided which offends me more.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “Mikey,” said Cynthia. “Go and get the black sheet. That way me and Zack can run through our lines. When you get back, we’ll be ready to shoot.”

  My heart skipped a beat then started to race. The thought of being alone in a dark enclosed space with Cynthia was very exciting. Not that I’d make a move, but small steps have to be taken on a long journey.

  “Yeah, sure,” Mikey said. “The black might be more scary anyway, more evil looking … not that black means evil.” Panic had affected his voice. It had gone up an octave. I smiled under my sheet.

  “Mikey, calm down, dude. I’m cool. Just go get the other sheet.” As I was pulling the white one over my head I heard him run down the long corridor I’d entered the boiler room from.

  Once the sheet was off I dropped it on the bag I’d taken it from and was met by the sight of Cynthia. She stood in front of me, covered by the dark of the room. I could tell she was smiling; her teeth and the whites of her eyes were clearly visible. She was standing so close to me I’m almost positive I felt her breasts brush against my chest; it might have been wishful thinking though.

  She grabbed hold of my hand. “Right, you, out of the dark and into the light, I want to get my lines down.” She led me to stand next to the camera and under the bulb again. To my surprise she kept hold of my hand. “You’re shaking, are you okay?”

  I cursed myself in my head. I was shaking. The nerves had really hit me. She had a strange affect on me, no doubt about it. I’d had a thing for her for a long time. There was just something about her that separated her from the other girls. Most likely the hate she normally seemed to have for me. Which served to make me both curious and confused about the situation. I had no idea why she was being so nice to me for a change. It felt stranger than when she was throwing me evil glares.

  “I’m okay,” I stuttered out. I cursed myself again.