Sara Reinke - Backwoods

“You took the virus,” Andrew said. “Moore’s retrovirus. You injected it into yourself.”

Prendick’s remaining eye rolled toward him, a pale blue disk floating in stark, ghoulish contrast to the bloody-red of his cornea. The tips of his rib appendages, squared-off and raw, made wet squelching noises as they tap-squish-tap-TAPPED on the floor, propelling him forward with an insectile efficiency. The popping sound Andrew had heard as Prendick had torn himself in two had been the sound of the base of his spine wrenching free of his pelvic girdle. Although at first the length of it trailed behind him like a grisly tail, he raised it now, as if the vertebrae had become flexible, hinged joints instead of a fused column. His spine arched behind him like a scorpion’s tail, and likewise, capping the tip like a spear was the ragged point of Prendick’s tailbone.

“You stupid son of a bitch,” Andrew whispered and Prendick screeched, lunging at Andrew, the whip of his spine striking, scorpion-like and lightning fast . Andrew ducked sideways, hunching his shoulders, and heard a loud, hollow crash as the tip punched into the side of the truck behind him.

Prendick’s shriek was eclipsed by another, this one high and trilling, as Alice scurried around the back of the truck and caught sight of him.

“Alice,” Andrew cried, pulling the trigger again, grasping the gun with both hands to keep it steady while he sprayed Prendick with a wild volley of bullets. He could hear them ricocheting off the concrete floor. Prendick began to screech and through the gun smoke, Andrew could see the horrible mass of his entrails flapping and flailing.

“Come on!” Wheeling about, floundering with his wounded leg, Andrew grabbed Alice beneath the arm and hauled her in step. Using the gun like a cane, he hobbled, hopped and otherwise hauled ass however he could toward the garage door.

“Wait! What about my daddy?” Alice cried out, then stumbled and fell to the floor. Andrew stooped, getting his arm around her, then they both looked up to see Prendick on the move again, scuttling on those horrific little legs across the tarmac. Alice screamed, and Andrew let loose another crazed round of rifle blasts, shattering chunks out of the floor.

“Hold on to me,” he told Alice, grabbing her about the waist. He felt her arms first lace, then lock around his neck and he stumbled to his feet, supporting her against his hip with one arm, holding the rifle like a crutch with the other.

“He’s still moving,” Alice wailed as Andrew shambled for the door. She was small, but while he might have ordinarily bore her slight weight without a problem, he was half-crippled and hurting, just barely making any headway.

He’s not going to stop, Andrew thought grimly, brows furrowed, teeth gritted, tendons standing out, taut and strained, in his neck. Not going to stop moving, or coming after us. Not until he hunts us down and kills us. Because it’s like Moore said. That’s what animals do, and that’s what he’s become. Hell, it’s what Prendick’s been all along.

He limped past Dani, and thought it was only a trick of his eyes, the drape of shadows, when he saw her move. He paused long enough to look again, then heard a soft moan.

“Dani!” Leaning over, he set Alice on the ground, then hobbled to Dani’s side. She’s alive, he thought, uttering a hysterical, happy, relieved laugh. Oh, God, she’s alive!

“Dani, can you hear me?” There was no time for niceties, not with Prendick behind them. He dropped to his knees and took her by the shoulders, giving a firm shake. “Dani, wake up!”

“He’s coming,” Alice whimpered, pointing. Andrew glanced up, saw a hint of movement among the shadows: Prendick scuttling in the dark. This time, when he fired the gun, he managed to do more than chip olive drab off the Army trucks or knock holes into the floor. One of the rounds hit Prendick high in the remains of his torso, shearing one of the spindly, spider-like legs at the base. With a shriek, he danced sideways, then back-scrambled, disappearing beneath Andrew’s old work Jeep for cover.

“You hit him!” Alice sounded delirious, caught between joy and hysterics.

“That won’t stop him long.” Andrew shook Dani again, harder. “Dani, wake up. Alice, help me get her on her feet.”

Together, they pulled and tugged, and by the time they forced Dani upright, she’d roused somewhat. Dazed and bewildered, she blinked first at Andrew, then down at Alice.

“What’s going on?” she murmured.

Prendick scuttled from beneath the Jeep, dragging the slithering mound of his entrails behind him. He’d flattened the length of his spinal column to crouch beneath the Jeep, but hoisted it now, curling it up behind him, the tapered point of his tailbone poised to strike.

Dani caught sight of this and stiffened, her breath drawing to a sharp, horrified halt. “Oh, my God.”

“Come on,” Andrew said. They lumbered together toward the door, listening all the while to the nasty tap-squish-tap-TAP as Prendick darted after them.

Dani looked over her shoulder, one arm around Andrew’s neck, the other around Alice’s. “Oh, God.”

“Don’t look back,” Andrew said, but Alice did, too, and began to mewl with panicked fright.

“He’s too fast!” she cried.

“Take her.” He didn’t know to whom he was speaking more directly, Dani or Alice, but in any case, he shrugged himself away from Dani and hoisted the rifle again. “Keep going. Don’t stop until you’re outside the garage.”

With that said, he laid down a sweeping burst of gunfire in Prendick’s direction. Prendick danced from side to side, scuttling wildly. He didn’t retreat, however, as he had before, instead darting and ducking around the bullets. The jointed segments of his ribs folded as he crouched, then he pounced at Andrew, hands outstretched.

“Shit!” Andrew shot wildly, missing Prendick altogether in his floundering, backpedaling panic. Prendick hit him hard, knocking the M16 from his hands as they crashed to the floor together.

Prendick clamped his hands around Andrew’s neck, abruptly cutting off his airflow. Andrew opened his mouth wide, straining for breath, pawing wildly at Prendick’s thick, strong fingers. He struggled beneath Prendick’s crushing weight, as the spindly points of Prendick’s ribs dug down to restrain him. From over Prendick’s shoulder, the wicked curve of his tail bone raised again, waggling momentarily before swooping down at Andrew’s head.

Shit! Andrew jerked to his left and felt the rush of wind as Prendick’s coccyx whipped past him. The concrete beneath him shuddered as the tip plowed into the floor. Prendick reared his tail back and Andrew cut his head to the right as again, he narrowly avoided a blow aimed squarely for his nose.

He bucked his hips, kicking his legs furiously, feeling the nasty, wet coils of Prendick’s intestines sliding around his thighs, his knees, tightening around him, holding him down. The need for air was growing desperate and agonizing. Andrew clawed at Prendick’s hands, his vision growing murky, his mind even more so as he struggled vainly for breath.

He heard the sharp report of automatic rifle fire from somewhere close by, then felt Prendick jerk above him, the interlocking clamp of his fingers at last loosening around his neck. Another burst of gun shots and Prendick fell to the side, the looping folds of his entrails sliding against Andrew’s legs. Gagging reflexively, clutching at his throat, Andrew rolled onto his side, whooping for air and pedaling his feet weakly to dislodge Prendick’s guts.

“Get up,” he heard Dani say, and he blinked up in bewildered surprise to see her shouldering the rifle. She leaned over, reaching for him. “Andrew, come on!”