Ted Kosmatka - Prophet of Bones

Behind the creatures, the men from the vans broke through the underbrush.

“Come on,” Lilli told Paul.

She pulled at him, breaking his paralysis. They bolted through the trees.

“You really don’t want to do that!” the red-bearded man yelled after them.

Paul jumped a log and knocked aside tree branches as he broke his way through the woods.

“You can’t outrun them,” the voice called after them. “But you might outrun us. You don’t want that to happen!”

Paul jumped another fallen log.

The voice continued: “Because when they catch you, we’re the only ones who can make them stop.”

They burst onto a trail. Sudden openness. Without thinking, Paul reacted, following the trail to the right.

A moment later, the things burst out of the woods behind them.

There is a clarity that comes to you when you’re running for your life. Everything is condensed into a simple formula: How fast can you make your legs move?

Paul didn’t turn back. Wouldn’t turn back. Lilli was a few yards ahead of him again; that was all he cared about. His legs were on fire. He heard ragged breathing behind him, but none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was making his legs work, one in front of the other, as fast as he could.

But it wasn’t enough.

Paul was knocked off his feet by the force of the blow. He rolled, caught up in a gripping, thrashing tornado. He struck out with his hands and feet, but the thing was faster than him, stronger than him. A blow caught him across the side of his head—quick deafness, then a sound like a feedback whine. He swung wildly as his hearing returned. His fist connected, but the thing turned, grabbed his arm, and flung him—it felt like his arm was nearly torn off. He landed and rolled, and the thing was on him again.

For two semesters in high school he’d wrestled. He knew how to throw a man. Knew how to grapple. But he’d never felt strength approaching this. Nor speed. A thing smaller than him but multiple times stronger, faster. Paul swung again, and the thing bared its teeth and ducked away. The return blow sent stars spilling through his head.

Just up the trail, Lilli screamed. The other thing had run past Paul to grab her, flinging her to the ground. Her dress ripped. Paul struggled with the beast in front of him, trying to pull free. He fought with every ounce of strength in his body, but it was too strong. Too fast. Lilli screamed again.

The creature moved in, landing another sidelong blow to Paul’s head, and he lost time for a moment—one second standing, the next with leaves in his mouth, face in the soil. Lilli was screaming again, louder. He turned his head. She was trying to get away, but the thing was on her. She’d been pulled almost completely out of her dress now. Exposed bra and panties—screaming and kicking. The thing screeched in maniacal frenzy.

Paul staggered to his feet and saw the men coming up the trail. He turned toward where Lilli fought with the creature. He ran full out and landed a vicious kick to the thing’s side, knocking Lilli free.

The other creature launched itself at Paul, knocking him off his feet. It loped away on strange legs, circling around. Paul spun in the dirt so he wouldn’t expose his back to the thing.

“Jesus, you really just need to stop,” the red-bearded man said. “You’re not going to win.”

Lilli screamed, and the second creature grabbed her leg and pulled her along the ground.

“Stop struggling,” the man said. He was standing only a dozen feet away now, observing the fight with detached interest. “Seriously, for your own good, stay down.”

Paul dragged himself to his feet. The thing moved in again, knocking him down again, raining punches on him. Paul did his best to cover up, to protect his vital organs, but the blows kept coming, and then he felt a bite on his arm, and the thing was away.

“See now, look,” the man said to one of his comrades. The tone was conversational, as if they were discussing a child who needed punishment. “I told them not to run.”

Lilli screamed again. Paul spit dirt from his mouth and turned his head. She was nearly naked now, bra pulled loose in the struggle. She was kicking and thrashing, still trying to get away, but the thing still had her by the leg. It flung her over. Her panties came apart in its grip.

The two beasts were distracted by her struggle. Paul rose to his knees, looking for some weapon. Any weapon. A few feet away, a thick tree branch angled from the detritus at the edge of the trail. It showed the mark of a chain saw, part of a limb fall that had been cleared away by park workers. Paul’s hand curled around the branch. He stood, bringing the branch with him. It was five feet long, heavy in his hand. Solid. Nearly as thick as his forearm.

As Paul stood, the creature in front of him reacted. It bared its teeth and spun itself just out of reach, finding new reserves of rage. It knew what a stick was. But it wasn’t Paul’s target. Paul made momentary eye contact with the red-bearded man. The man only stared at him, making no move to stop him.

The second beast grabbed Lilli’s legs and forced them apart. She shrieked, “No!”

Paul turned and launched himself toward Lilli’s attacker. The thing behind him followed but would be a second too slow. Swinging the branch high as he ran, Paul brought the wood down on the creature’s skull with every ounce of strength in his body. The skull made a sickening sound as it caved in on itself. Paul let go of the branch, and it hung suspended for a moment, buried in the thing’s skull. The creature toppled next to Lilli.

A moment later, the other creature struck him like a train, sending him flying, and the world went away.

He heard gunshots then. Two gunshots in quick succession.

Then: “That’s about enough of that.”

Paul opened his eye and saw the red-bearded man pointing his gun at the creature that stood over him. Puffs of dirt were still settling around its feet where the shots had churned the soil.

“I said, enough. The boss wants him alive.” The man was talking to the beast.

The thing turned its head away from the man and looked down at Paul. Its eyes burned into him with an insanity that Paul had never experienced in life. Flecks of foam shot from its mouth with each exhalation.

“Alive,” the man stressed, a scar twisting his upper lip. “So stop.”

The beast’s eyes never moved, never lost their laserlike focus. A few feet away, Lilli curled into a ball to cover her nakedness, crying softly into the dirt. The beast’s lips peeled back from its teeth. Its hands curled into fists as it stared down at Paul.

The man took a step forward. “I will fucking shoot you.”

The thing’s head snapped around. It stared up at the man—murder in its eyes.

It looked at Paul again, muscles still twitching. On the edge of decision.

The man fired his weapon a third time, and dirt exploded in front of the thing’s feet.

“Next one is in your skull.”

The creature backed away, one slow step at a time. When it was half a dozen feet off, it screamed in frustration and slammed its fists into the dirt with enough force that Paul felt the blows through the ground. It shrieked up at the sky in rage. Then it stood, chest heaving, eyes lowered—lost in an inhuman rage controlled by the barest of margins.

It slunk over to its fallen companion. It touched the thing’s lopsided skull, then looked toward Paul again.

“Fuck you,” Paul said.

The thing froze. Its black eyes went wide, its lips curling back from its teeth as it started to shake.

“Shut the fuck up!” the man yelled at Paul. He raised his gun again and said to the creature, “He’s trying to get you killed.”