Insomnia and Seven More Short Stories Read online

  Mia rubbed Liz’s cheek. “You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”

  “I had a bad dream.”

  “I know.”

  “You were dead,” Liz said before looking at the others. “They were all dead. And I was alone.”

  “You’re not alone,” Mia said, wrapping the girl in her arms. A gentle touch on her shoulder took her attention away from Liz. It was Austin. He motioned toward the window with his eyes. There was something outside he wanted her to see. His silence meant he didn’t want the others to know.

  She looked around the room. With Liz quiet, they all went about their morning rituals. Collins mixed instant coffee into a mug of cold water. Paul was in the bathroom. Mark sat on one of the couches, reading from his small Bible. Vanderwarf, White and Garbarino sat around the card table, opening a fresh box of Hostess cakes. Chang was just waking now. From the tired look in her eyes, she’d slept through the morning theatrics.

  Mia stood slowly, holding Liz in her arms, and turned to the window. She kept Liz looking in the opposite direction as she looked, first at the empty neighborhood, and then down to the driveway. She gasped at what she saw.

  A dried bloodstain covered a large swath of pavement, but the body, and every scrap of eviscerated organ was missing.

  “He’s gone... scavengers?” she asked, quietly.

  “I don’t think so,” Austin said. “There’d be something left behind. Bones.”

  “Maybe they moved it?”

  He shook his head. “We haven’t seen a living animal or insect since we landed.”

  “Maybe they came back for him?” Mia asked.

  “Came back for who?” It was Chang. She’d snuck up behind them while they looked out the window. She followed their eyes toward the driveway. “Oh my God. Is that blood?”

  Mia put Liz down and gave her a little shove toward Mark. “Go talk to Uncle Mark.”

  Liz obeyed, sitting down next to Mark. He saw what was going on and put his arm around the girl. He opened the Bible and said, “Let me tell you a story.”

  With Liz preoccupied, Mia turned to Chang. “Stay quiet.”

  Chang looked back into the room. The others were getting on with their morning, some were even smiling. She nodded. “Whose blood is that?”

  “A man was killed there last night,” Austin said, his voice devoid of emotion.

  “Last night? You saw it?”

  Austin looked Chang in the eyes. “Not a word.” He waited for her to nod again, then turned to the others. “We’re heading out in thirty minutes. Eat, drink, pack what you can carry.”

  “What’s the plan?” White asked.

  “We don’t even know where we are,” Vanderwarf added.

  “We’re in Rhode Island,” Austin said, holding up a map he’d found while searching the end tables on either side of the couch. “We’ll head north, through Massachusetts and New Hampshire.”

  “Won’t it be colder up there?” Paul asked as he exited the bathroom.

  “It should be colder here,” Austin said. “It should be freezing. But it’s not. I think it’s safe to assume the weather patterns and seasons have changed.”

  “Then why head north?” Paul asked.

  “Fewer targets,” Collins said and then turned to Austin. “Northern New England—Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine—don’t have a lot in the way of strategic targets. It’s mostly trees and very few people. With each nuke costing a good chunk of change to maintain and launch, it’s less likely the Russians directly targeted that area of the country.”

  “You think there might be survivors?” Garbarino asked, sounding hopeful.

  “I’m hoping so.”

  “The kind that doesn’t want to kill us?” Chang added as she headed for the bathroom.

  “Yeah,” Austin said. “That kind.”

  Mia glanced out the window and saw movement. She held her breath as she leaned over for a better look. She did an admirable job of hiding the quick intake of air, but Austin noticed. He glanced back at her, despite all eyes being on him. Her eyes were wide with urgency. He took a step back and followed her gaze.

  He had a harder time hiding his surprise, “Fuck.”

  But no one seemed to notice, as Chang distracted them by saying, “Dude, haven’t you heard, if it’s yellow, let it mellow—”

  Austin’s mind raced. Was he seeing things? He didn’t think so. Then how was this possible? The man standing beneath the window, only five feet from the front porch, was the same man they’d seen slaughtered the night before. He was still fidgeting. Still panicking. And the wild eyed man seemed perfectly healthy despite being nearly naked and covered in caked-on blood.

  And if he’s here, the killers that tracked him down might not be far behind.

  Chang’s voice cut through his thoughts. “If it’s brown, flush it down.”

  Austin snapped around, and hissed an angry, “No!”

  But his voice was lost among the chuckles of the others.

  “Chang!” He said, louder. “Stop!”

  She turned to him. “What?” But his warning came too slow. She’d already flushed the toilet. Despite there being no running water, the toilet tank still held enough for one flush. The third floor toilet roared as water shot into the toilet bowl and flowed through the plumbing toward the basement.

  Chang understood her mistake as soon as she saw his eyes. She cringed. “Sorry.”

  “Tom,” Mia said, her voice a barely controlled whisper.

  He moved back to the window and looked down. The panicked man had stopped in his tracks and was looking up at them. He met Austin’s eyes. The man’s stare rooted Austin in place and filled him with some kind of primal fear. But the stranger seemed just as afraid.

  The fear-filled stare-down was broken when the man whipped his head to the left. He looked up again and mouthed a single word. “Run.” Then, he ran.

  Tom turned to the others. “Pack up. We’re leaving now.”

  Garbarino stood. “Why? What’s—”

  The sound of breaking glass silenced him.

  “That was downstairs,” Paul said.

  Austin threw on his backpack and drew his weapon. “They’re coming through the windows.”

  “Fuck,” Vanderwarf said. She stood, backpack on and weapon at the ready a moment later. The rest of the group quickly followed.

  Garbarino, Austin, Mia and White ran for the pool table blocking the fire exit door. They had it moved out of the way in seconds. Garbarino reached for the deadbolt. Just as he was turning it, Austin’s hand slapped over his, stopping him.

  “Wait,” Austin urged.

  Garbarino’s eyes were wide. “Fuck that!” He tried turning the lock again, but Austin held it tight.

  “Wait,” Austin repeated.

  Garbarino glared at him for a moment. “For what?”

  “If there’s more than one, we want to give them all time to get inside, so we can get out. And as soon as we open that door, the ten of us need to run down two flights of stairs. They won’t have to go as far. The only chance we have at a head start is if they’re—”

  The door at the bottom of the third floor staircase shook as several fists pounded against it. Austin removed his hand from Garbarino’s. “Go!”

  The locks flew open and Garbarino launched himself out onto the small landing. The morning sun warmed him, and he saw no danger. He took the stairs two at a time, leading the line of survivors down the side of the house. Dead grass crunched beneath his feet when he reached the bottom and knelt in a firing stance. He checked both directions. “All clear,” he whispered as the others joined him.

  Austin was the last one down. When he reached the bottom, he noticed the banging inside the house had stopped.

  The killers were coming.

  Austin waved them toward the backyard where a line of trees marked the beginning of a large patch of wilderness. “Into the woods!”

  The backyard was a wide open patch of dead grass. Other than a swing set and a ca
ndy cane-shaped septic system vent, there was nothing to hide behind. They were totally exposed. But there was no choice. They had to run.

  The group moved as one, like flocking birds, crouch-running across the grass. But a child’s toy tripped Vanderwarf and sent her to the ground only five feet from the back of the house. White turned around and stopped. He reached down to pick her up. With his head down, he heard the dull thuds of someone running inside the house. Thinking he had at least ten seconds before the person reached the barricaded back door and perhaps another minute after that, he didn’t bother raising his weapon.

  When the window exploded from the inside out, he was totally unprepared for it. A woman flew through the air, shards of glass covering her face, arms and naked upper torso. White and the woman hit the ground a second later and before anyone, including White, who had the wind knocked out of him, could respond, the woman shouted, “I’m sorry! I don’t want to—” She drove her rigid fingers into his throat with unnatural strength. Her fingers disappeared into his neck up to the third knuckle.

  White twitched beneath her.

  Vanderwarf screamed and kicked away from the woman and her now dead lover.

  The woman wailed, as though wounded.

  A single gunshot silenced her.

  Austin.

  The bullet struck the woman’s forehead and sent her flailing backwards.

  “Vanderwarf!” Austin shouted. “Move!”

  Though horrified, Vanderwarf’s instincts and training kicked in. She climbed to her feet and ran toward the others. Glass exploded again as a second body emerged from the house. It was a man. Nearly naked. His body charged like a killing machine on speed. But his face was twisted with agony. The expression locked solid as Austin fired a second shot, piercing the man’s brain and sending him to the ground.

  The silence that followed lasted only a moment.

  Voices—a sea of them—rose up in the distance.

  “The woods,” Austin growled. “Now!”

  There was no pause. No looking back.

  They ran like prey.

  Like the man killed in the driveway the night before.

  The same man who followed them now.

  Unlike the others, he looked back, eyeing the bodies on the grass—watching their eyes—and then followed the group into the darkness of the dead woods.

  ###

  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  Insomnia

  The Eater

  Harden’s Tree

  Star Crossed Killers

  Counting Sheep

  Hearing Aid

  Dark Seed of the Moon

  From Above

  Bonus: Bought and Paid For

  About the Author