Tim Curran - Blackout

I caught hold of the cable with the tines of the rake and slowly pulled it away from the door. “Okay!” I said. “Get out of there now!”

The door opened and Billy helped two pasty-faced kids out, a boy and a girl who were still wearing pajamas. Their mother—or who I assumed was their mother—got out next. The cable was trembling a bit as I held it and the woman got the kids well away in case I lost control of it. Billy went in and helped her husband out. He had banged his head pretty good and there was dried blood all over the left side of his face. It looked like his arm was broken. As Billy got him out of there, he was very groggy. He was also wearing a brown UPS uniform.

When he was clear, I released the cable.

The woman introduced herself as Doris Shifferin and her kids were Kayla and Kevin. The man was not her husband but the guy from next door whose name was Roger. He had gotten them away from their neighborhood, which was a maze of cables, but when that wind kicked up, he lost control of the SUV. And here they were.

“You took a pretty good knock,” Billy told him. “But we can fix you up, I think. First, let’s get the hell out of here.”

We didn’t make it ten steps before something came out of the darkness at us. It was fast. Incredibly fast. A black shape that swooped right over our heads like some immense bird. I knew then that what I had seen pulling away from the light more than once was not my imagination. It came again before we had time to recover from the first encounter.

“Get down!” I told Doris and the kids. “Get your heads down!”

The kids didn’t say a word as she pulled them to the ground and held them tightly to her. I thought they were both in shock. I figured if we could get them back to the house and get some food in them, give them a safe place to rest, they would be okay. But that wasn’t going to be easy. The shape came out of the darkness like a bat and in the illumination of the SUV’s headlights, I saw something like a flying black hood, swollen and elongated. My first impression was that it looked much like a folded-up umbrella, except that it was bulbous and nearly the size of a man.

I ducked when it came again and it swooped within three feet of Roger, who stood there, dazed and confused, half out of it from his head wound. Billy fired at the hood, missed, racked the pump on the riot gun and fired again. He hit it. Just before it disappeared into the darkness, I saw it jerk as the buckshot bit into it.

I told Roger to get his head down and when he didn’t listen, I got up and made to take him down. But I never got to him. The hood beat me to it. It came out of the night with a smooth, sleek velocity and engulfed his head and upper body, closing over him like the trap of an insectivorous plant. The hood opened, looking very much like an umbrella unfolding and then folding back up as it gripped him. I could clearly see the architecture of ten or twelve bony appendages beneath the skin radiating out. They ran from midline of the hood to the very bottom, a slick webbing of black tissuelike material connecting them. The entire creature was shiny black like wet neoprene and had a ring of brilliant red eyes near the apex of the hood itself.

Roger made a grunting sound as it closed over him.

Doris screamed and Billy, with a knee-jerk reaction, brought up the riot gun and made to fire before I knocked the barrel away. For a second there, it looked like he was going to turn it on me, but that was the terror and stress and shock of it all taking hold of him.

I brought up my pike to spear the thing and as I got closer the eyes of it went from bright electric red to the color of fresh blood. They seemed to bulge in their sockets. I jabbed it with the pike again and again but I couldn’t get any purchase. It was much like the cable I tried to cut, made out of some glossy, glassy sort of material the sharpened end of the pike glanced off without causing any damage. But I got a reaction out of it—the skeletal appendages opened like the fingers of a hand and then it turned itself inside out, protecting its eyes with a cloak of its own flesh. I saw its crimson underside quite clearly. The sticklike appendages were set with long, lethal-looking spikes that had impaled Roger and now withdrawn. But he was still held by a suckering orifice that had swallowed his entire head. He was wet with blood from the many spikes and I thought he was dead.

Then the hood covered him again and before I could do much more than gasp, it rose into the air with him in tow.

There wasn’t a damn thing we could do to stop it.

And we didn’t have the time because something gigantic was hovering above us, maybe fifty feet up. We wouldn’t have seen it at all, but like with the cyclops, a single orb of light irised open and flooded the world with dull pink light. It was like some immense pod or shell with what appeared to be hundreds of jointed, narrow limbs sprouting from it. Each was roughly the thickness of a telephone pole and probably three times as long. Whatever it was, I don’t think it was the same as the cyclops. It hovered up there and I expected it to drop down on us, but it didn’t. It just turned its glowing milky eye on us and held us in a beam of pale pink light.

The hood moved up towards it with Roger in tow and then flew up into a central diamond-shaped chasm on its underside. The hood, as I said, was nearly as big as a man, but it was dwarfed by the colossal pod up there. It looked like a pea next to a shoebox.

That’s when I saw that surrounding the chasm were what looked like countless pulsating polyps clinging there like remoras on a shark’s belly. They were hoods. What might have been hundreds of them. Several detached themselves and swooped over our heads. The air was filled with them. Billy fired again and again. Whether he hit them, I don’t know. One of them came at me and it would have had me, too, but I thrust the pike at it with everything I had and felt it sink into something—the suckering orifice beneath, I thought—and the hood made a sort of electronic squealing sound and hit the ground. It couldn’t seem to fly. It skidded along the pavement, jetting around like a squid.

We got the hell out of there.

Billy led the way and we got Doris and the kids between us. I had no idea where we were going, but Billy seemed to know. The hoods dipping down at us, he led us back into the forest of cables where things were too tight for them to follow. It was good thinking and I’m pretty sure it saved all our lives.

Once inside the depths of the cables, we moved slowly and cautiously again, waiting for them to reach out and snare us.

Doris and the kids were barely holding it together by that point and I wasn’t much better. The children were not just clinging to her, they were practically welded to her so that they almost moved as a single entity. As Billy guided us forward, the entire time talking in a very soothing voice to them how everything was going to be just fine—bless him—I kept a hand on Doris’s shoulder. I think she needed the physical contact and I know I needed it.

The cables trembled as we passed them, but they did nothing other than that but wait. Time was on their side and they knew it. Eventually, after about ten minutes or so, they thinned out. We didn’t breathe any easier because that put us back in the open where we were prey for the hoods. And, true to form, they made their appearance almost right away.

The four of us clustered together instinctively and kept our heads down. Herd mentality, I guess. I assumed the hoods were like lions looking for a stray gazelle and we weren’t about to give them that opportunity. They kept swooping, sometimes flying right at us as if they hoped to spook and separate us.