Brian Keene - Urban Gothic

One minute, it had just been the four of them in the tunnel. The next, there was a dwarf standing by Scug’s side, chattering excitedly in a guttural, ugly language Javier couldn’t understand. Some of the words were rudimentary English. Others seemed nothing more than a collection of snarls, grunts and homeless syllables. Javier raised his head and noticed a small passageway to their right. He assumed that the new arrival must have come from there. The dwarf was completely hairless, and its naked body was covered with thick black scabs. He listened to its conversation with Scug, and tried to figure out what they were talking about.

“Anyone catch her yet?”

The dwarf shook its head.

“Well, I’ll look into it myself. It’s my fault for letting her give me the slip earlier. Can’t have her hurting the babies.”

The dwarf spoke again. It seemed agitated.

“When it rains, it pours.” Scug shook his head. “How many are there?”

The dwarf held up six crooked fingers.

“I’ll check the nursery,” Scug told it. “Take care of the bitch once and for all. You go find Noigel. He’s probably still fucking that kid’s brains out back near the basement steps. Tell him we have more visitors up top.”

The dwarf squealed a reply.

“You do as I say and interrupt him,” Scug replied.

“He won’t hurt you if you tell him I sent you. Can’t be many brains left in that kid’s head by now anyway. He can worry about spraying his ball juice later. We need him on the hunt.”

The dwarf made an almost comical salute with one hand, then turned and dashed back up the side tunnel.

“And tell him not to fuck these six in the head after he’s killed them,” Scug called after the fleeing form. Then he turned to the women and pointed at Javier. “One of this one’s friends—I’m guessing the girl I was chasing earlier—is near the nursery. The babies are worked up. I’m going to go tend to that because none of the rest of you seems to be able to fucking handle it. You get him situated. Tell Curd that there are more on the way. A bunch of new arrivals just showed up. They’re at the door now. Tell Curd that Noigel will be bringing them down. Give him a hand butchering if he needs it.”

They nodded their assent and Scug skulked away, disappearing into the darkness, heading back down the passageway. Javier tried to make sense of what he’d just heard. New arrivals? Who could it be? The police? The gangbangers who had chased them in here in the first place? Maybe their parents, come to look for them after discovering the car? And who was at the nursery—whatever that was? Scug had indicated that it was one of Javier’s friends and that it was a female. That meant it had to be Heather or Kerri. He felt like calling out, regardless of whether they could actually hear him and telling them to hide because Scug was on the way, but such an effort would only waste energy. He’d be more help to them if he was free. Then another thought occurred to him. Scug had twice mentioned Noigel and something about him skull-fucking somebody. The first time, Javier hadn’t paid attention, but this second time, Scug had indicated that the assault was taking place near the basement steps. Could the victim be one of his friends? Could it be Heather?

Javier’s heart pounded. A sense of urgency swept over him. He needed to get free and he needed to do it now—both for his friends and for himself. With Scug’s departure, the odds were a little more even. He sensed that this might be his last opportunity to escape. He concentrated on his breathing as they marched him forward again, trying to simultaneously calm himself and wake himself up. He allowed the females to lead him onward until he was certain that they were out of Scug’s earshot. Then he took a deep breath and made his play.

Javier lurched forward, shifting his weight. At the same time, he squirmed, trying desperately to free his arms from their grip. His ploy worked, but not without consequences. The woman’s flashlight clattered to the floor. His right arm slipped easily enough from Scar-Face’s grip, but the hairy girl squeezed harder on his left arm. Her nails sank into his wound, and blood flowed again. Screaming, Javier wrenched his arm free and stumbled forward, slamming into the tunnel wall.

He shook his head, trying to regain both his senses and his footing. The women lunged for him. Javier turned to face them. The hairy girl grabbed his left hand and jerked him toward her. She twisted his arm at the same time, so that his wounded wrist and his palm were face up and his fingers were folded back. Her head darted forward. Her eyes and teeth glinted in the darkness. As her mouth came down on his hand, Javier grasped her upper lip with his fingers and pulled. The girl uttered a muffled shriek and let go of his hand. He pulled harder, savagely yanking the lip toward him. It stretched like warm bubblegum that had been left on the sidewalk on a summer day. Javier felt the skin start to tear. Then Scar-Face broke his grip with a blow to his forearm. Both Javier and the hairy girl stumbled backward.

He landed on his rump and his teeth clacked together painfully. Javier tried to get up, but before he could, Scar-Face leaped on him, slamming him back to the floor. Behind her, the hairy girl was moaning and crying, patting at her mouth with the back of her hand. Her lips were bleeding, and Javier felt a surge of savage joy. It vanished a second later when Scar-Face’s fingernails opened four ragged, bloody furrows on his cheek. Her mouth opened and her teeth tried for his injured wrist even as he pulled back to strike at her again.

Javier rolled sideways and did his best to dislodge her, but the woman held on to his legs with her feet . Too late, he realized why. Her double-jointed toes clutched at him like hands. They felt like what he imagined a monkey’s feet would feel like, capable of clutching not only the fabric of his jeans but the skin beneath them, as well. She held on and rolled with him. Her teeth snapped as she tried to find a way past his defenses. He blocked her again and struggled to get free. Behind them, the hairy girl continued to whine.

“Get the hell off me, bitch!”

Scar-Face snarled, well past the point of any coherent speech. Her teeth flashed. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist and pulled on the ragged edges of the wound. Javier wailed. Her nails opened new gashes beneath the first cut. Fresh blood flowed. Hissing, Javier twisted his arm, breaking her grip enough that he could push his fingers and palm up against her chin. She couldn’t bite if she couldn’t open her jaw. Scar-Face turned her head and tried to get away, but he wouldn’t let her. He didn’t dare. Sharp as her fingernails might be, her teeth were much more dangerous. Javier thought of the attack on Brett earlier in the evening. He couldn’t risk losing a finger. A muffled cry of frustration slipped past her closed lips and Javier grinned in response.

“That’s right. What you gonna do now, you crazy fuck?”

Scar-Face continued to struggle. Over her shoulder, Javier noticed that her companion was shaking off her fugue and preparing to rejoin the battle. He had to finish this quick. He reached out with his other hand and grabbed her ear, clenching it in his fingers. He noticed that fresh blood was running down the inside of his forearm, but it was only trickling, rather than gushing. He squeezed her ear, pulling and twisting as hard as he could. Javier both heard and felt the cartilage snap. She shrieked in agony and he yanked a second time, trying his best to pull her ear off completely. She was too preoccupied with her pain to attack him, and the hairy girl cowered against the tunnel wall, suddenly afraid. Javier pulled a third time. The woman thrashed on top of him as he twisted. He screamed right along with her, no longer caring if any of the other creatures heard him. He was focused only on tearing her ear from her skull. They rolled out of the range of the flashlight beams, and Javier heard something rip. A moment later, he was free—her severed ear still clutched between his fingers.