Jodi Lee - Ante Mortem

It hissed and dashed at him, its feet clawing at the dirt as it tore through the brown grass. Travis screeched and ran, sprinting into the woods.

The creature gained on him. It had stopped hissing and sped along, sliding over the ground like a bobsled over ice. Travis ran, casting glances over his shoulder, but he knew he wasn’t going to make it to the road before the creature caught up with him. Hell, he wasn’t even going to make it out of the woods.

He found where the railroad tracks had been and ran along them, his mind clamoring for ideas, for something that would help him out. He looked around, his eyes searching for anything that could work as a weapon. All he saw were a few rocks and some branches. They would have to do.

Travis stopped and bent down. He grabbed another rock and threw it at the creature and this time, he hit home. The rock struck the thing in the head with a terrific, hollow thunk and the creature screamed, falling over sideways. Travis wasn’t sure if he’d killed it or not and he didn’t care. He turned and ran as hard as he could through the woods.

Behind him, he heard the most God-awful howl he’d ever heard in his life. He used the sound to spur him on, to run faster, to get to the road and to his truck so he could get the hell out of there. What used to be a land of comfort and fun for him as a child, had turned into a territory of terror.

Through his heavy breathing, through the sounds of his feet thudding through the woods and the cracking of dry branches, Travis heard another sound. Sounds , actually. Despite his fear, he turned to look, and instantly wished he hadn’t.

Dotting the woods were over a dozen of those creatures, same as the first, and they were all hissing at him, now.

Travis screamed. The howl from the thing had brought others to its side and they sprinted, like a wolf pack, after him.

He could hear them, their little feet, scrambling over the dirt and dried grass and small twigs, scampering and clawing and hissing, hungry for his blood. He heard them close the distance in seconds, gaining on him, just as he could see his truck, not more than fifteen feet away, sitting there like a beacon of safety.

Travis dug in and ran harder than he had since he was a kid, literally running for his life. And still they gained.

He could feel the hot, foul breath of two of them as they ran right on his heels, snapping those teeth together. It sounded like green-sticks breaking as they gnashed their teeth, and they hissed, their spit splattering on the back of his pantlegs.

The truck seemed a long way away, like in those dreams, when someone runs from the terrible monster, but they get nowhere as the beast closes the space between them.

And then, suddenly, he was at the door and fumbling for his keys, desperately trying to get inside, to safety. His cell phone tumbled from his pocket and shattered on the road.

One of the creatures bit into his ankle.

Travis screamed as the tiny teeth burrowed into his flesh, tearing it, coming together, and then yanking back, ripping a chunk of sock and meat from just above his ankle bone. He kicked the creature, knocking it squealing to its back, and stuck his keys into the lock.

The other creature leapt, landing on his right thigh, arching its spine, throwing its head back and baring its teeth. It was about to bite him when Travis swung, back-handing the creature like he would a tennis ball, knocking it off before it could sink its teeth. He turned the keys in the lock, threw the door open, tossed himself inside, and slammed the door behind him.

He sat there, panting and sweating, blood pouring from his ankle and pooling onto the floor. All around, outside the truck, Travis could hear them circling, clawing at the metal, shrieking and hissing, looking for a way in.

He laughed to himself. He wasn’t sure what they were, but he’d beaten them here, and he was going to get away. They’d gotten a piece of him, but they wouldn’t get any more. When he got a good distance away, he’d call animal control and report the incident, and then he’d go to an emergency room. The words “rabid squirrels” went through his head and he thought maybe he’d go to the hospital first, instead.

The front of the truck rocked as first one, then two, then three of the creatures leapt onto the hood. They stalked to the windshield, hissing and spitting; one squatted and pissed.

“Screw you!” Travis screamed.

One of the three flung itself forward and slammed into the glass, snapping its neck. Travis laughed and then a second one did the same thing, hitting the same bloodied spot. He stopped laughing when the third broke open its head ramming into the same spot, because when it did, the windshield cracked just a tiny bit.

Four more launched themselves up on the hood and stalked around, staring at their dead brethren and then at Travis, their eyes big and unblinking, full of hatred.

One after another, they charged the windshield, killing themselves as the crack grew wider and longer. They worked together, like a pack, of one mind and purpose. They would do whatever it took, however many had to be sacrificed, to get what they wanted.

And what they wanted was Travis.

He sat up, more terrified than ever, as he heard creatures climbing up the sides of the truck, their nails digging in and scraping the metal. He put the keys into the ignition and cranked the engine.

It didn’t start.

Cursing, he turned the key again. The engine roared but didn’t catch.

“Goddamnit!” Travis shrieked and pounded his fists on the steering wheel. He was trapped in there, miles from any help, and he was going to get torn to bits by these things. All because he threw one rock—one stupid, stupid rock.

He turned the key again and this time, the engine caught, turned over and ran. Travis screamed his triumph and put the gas pedal to the floor. The truck lurched forward and he felt a sick satisfaction as he heard at least three of the creature’s crunch under his tires. The ones on the hood screeched and slid, their claws scratching for purchase. Instead, they slipped, skimmed over the hood and fell off.

Travis looked in his rearview and watched as the survivors, at least half a dozen of the creatures, ran after the truck, trying to keep up. By the time he reached the bend in the road a half a mile away, they had given up and disappeared.

He sighed and relaxed, feeling the breeze from the rear window gently kiss the back of his neck. His ankle throbbed and every muscle in his legs ached, but he’d made it, he was alive, and they hadn’t gotten him.

That wind feels good , he thought, as it cooled the back of his head.

The wind from the open window.

The. Open. Window.

A creature reared up in the back seat, standing on two legs, hissing at him, baring its fangs. Hot, rancid breath came from its mouth, filling the truck with its stench.

He’d left the rear windows cracked open when he left on his hike because it had been warm out. In the mad scramble and panic of being stalked, he’d forgotten all about it.

Travis slammed on his brakes and the creature flew forward, smashing into the back of the seat, bounced off and hit the floor. He hoped beyond hope that it had broken its neck like the others had, against the windshield. Then it hissed again.

His ankle burned. He was alone in his truck with one of those things and he had to do something to kill it. His eyes roved frantically over the front seat, looking for any kind of weapon, but just like in the woods, he was out of luck.

The creature clawed up the back of the seat and hissed right next to Travis’s ear. He screamed as the creature flung itself around, and tried to get to his face.

He fell against the steering wheel as he tried to protect his face from the claws and teeth that were snapping and clacking less than an inch away.