What the Hell Did I Just Read Read online

  I said, “You just said you were going to kill it!”

  “That was a test!”

  Nymph said, “Hold on, so now is it better for me to be the specimen or David?”

  Amy pushed herself away from Gibson and pointed to me. “This is the human. Unfortunately.”

  The black cloaks moved in on Nymph, so I guess they believed her? He raised his right hand. Everything from the elbow down disintegrated into a flock of about ten fuckroaches. They flew toward the nearest cloak, who was wearing a rubber mask that gave him the slack face of an elderly woman. The insects landed on various points of its body, then quickly burrowed through the cloak and body armor. The thing in the cloak screamed an inhuman scream, and then exploded, as if the fuckroaches had pulled it apart from the inside. Grayish-blue hunks of meat landed everywhere—it had the texture of a vegetarian recipe for imitation human tissue. The rest of the cloaks recoiled but again didn’t fire—they were waiting for the order. Though at least they now knew which one was me.

  Nymph gave me a smug look and said, “You cannot comprehend the suffering that is about to occur, Mr. Wong. You said you don’t give a fuck, and I believe you. You think none of it matters, that it’s all a big joke. But I assure you, Mr. Wong, right now, no one is laughing.”

  There was a commotion from behind Nymph and I heard John, screaming, “FART DILDOS, COMING THROUGH!”

  There was a mechanical noise like air brakes. A projectile hit Nymph and filled the hall with sizzling sparks. Nymph went to the floor, a smoldering hole in his back, hunks of metal burning brightly in the wound. The smell of sulfur filled the hall.

  John was holding a homemade weapon. The barrel was PVC pipe, leading to a complex mechanism like the cylinder on a revolver. Only instead of bullets, each chamber contained one sex toy. On his back was a tank of compressed gas.

  John fired again. A pink projectile whizzed through the air, made impact with Nymph, and exploded in that shower of pungent fire.

  The fuckroaches scattered. The black cloaks unleashed their strange weapons on the bugs, vaporizing them in midair, with orange beams that radiated ungodly amounts of heat. I wondered if they ever accidentally fired their weapons on the wrong setting.

  Then, all that remained was the larva, writhing in pain on the floor, shed of its disguise. The burning chunks of thermite and sulfur were eating through its skin.

  It seemed to be pulsing, swelling.

  John cocked his dildo cannon and fired again. The maggot squealed and thrashed, but it was still not dead. The smoldering embers of sulfur ate through its husk … and still it seemed to get bigger.

  I said, “Where the hell did you get that thing?”

  “It was in the back of the Jeep! We must have built it while we were on the Sauce. The memory hit me all at once. Want me to shoot it again?”

  Amy said, “Look!”

  A split had formed in the maggot’s thick outer skin, where the sulfur had finally burned through. The larva was now nearly twice its former size, it skin stretching and pulling like a bratwurst on a grill.

  From within the wound, a sheer blackness seemed to leak out like steam. And from it, I sensed an infinite coldness that defied all reason.

  We’re too late.

  John said, “Is it dying?”

  Amy shook her head. “No. It’s hatching.”

  25. WELL, THEY CERTAINLY FUCKED THAT UP, DIDN’T THEY?

  I said, “How do we stop it?!?”

  Tasker, thinking quickly, said, “Get it out of the cell block! To the front!”

  I grabbed the maggot—it was unsettlingly warm—and tried to drag it. Its skin was slick but tough, hard to get a grasp on it. I twisted it in my fists and pulled. Like dragging a bag of wet cement.

  I screamed for John. He tossed his dildo cannon aside and tried to grab on. We screamed for one of the cloaked guards to pitch in, but they didn’t seem to recognize the command. The dark, foot-long fissure in the larva’s hide grew wider. A dim rumble came from inside, low enough to shake the floor. Or maybe I was imagining that part. Agent Gibson came hobbling along and tried to help.

  John said, “Roll it! Like a barrel!”

  The three of us did just that, making slow progress up the hall, through the cell block door, and toward the open steel door to the office area. This would force us to roll it past Maggie’s cell and I expected to hear Loretta start screaming at the sight of us, but someone had apparently hustled her back into the STAFF ONLY area, getting her out of the way.

  We made it past Maggie’s cell—the larva inside shrieking and thrashing at the sight of us—and through the thick steel door. I was sweating with the effort—the thing seemed to gain mass with every step. We were leaving a trail of ooze behind us.

  Tasker was waiting by the black coffin device to our left—the portal to other worlds. She waved us that way and we had to again do an awkward 90-degree turn with the pulsing grub.

  Tasker pulled open the door and beyond was that vast green field I’d glimpsed earlier. Scattered around the other side was various trash—coffee cups, chip bags, at least one dirty diaper.

  The maggot was too long to fit through the door now; all five of us—Amy included—had to wrestle it through lengthwise. It thudded on the other side of the door and Tasker yelled for us to push it farther in, to get it away from the portal so the offspring couldn’t jump through if it hatched at exactly the wrong moment.

  I said, “You go through first, sweetheart! We’re not going through only to have you close the door behind us.”

  To her credit, she didn’t hesitate. She jumped through and pulled as we pushed, shoving the larva across the field and down what turned out to be a grassy hill in some other time and place and universe.

  The moment our hands were off of it, the husk of the maggot split along its body, its skin falling aside. For a moment, there was only a blotch of blackness there and all five of us stared at it, transfixed. Tasker held up her phone to get video, eyes wide in amazement. This was once-in-a-lifetime data. I noted she had a pistol in her other hand, until she glanced down at it and realized that what emerged from this thing would not even find her bullets particularly annoying.

  The blackness grew.

  Amy backed toward the portal and said, “This world, it’s uninhabited, right? There’s an empty universe for this thing to wreak havoc in?”

  Tasker didn’t answer. I turned to go back through the portal … and stopped.

  There stood the door, and behind it was a well-dressed family of what looked like tourists, a father and two boys eating some kind of bulbous turquois dessert I’d never seen before. The father was staring at us in bafflement. He looked like a steampunk lawyer, in a waistcoat and high shiny boots, a gold chain draped over one shoulder. He had well-oiled black hair with a skunk stripe of white that ran back from his forehead. His two well-groomed boys seemed only mildly curious.

  One of the boys looked at me and said something that sounded like “Away” but the accent and tone made me think it was a greeting in a foreign tongue. They had a little dog with them. It barked. The boy had been in the middle of feeding it a bit of his snack.

  I started to say, “You should back way from this thing,” but then my eyes registered what I was seeing and the words died. Behind the family was a scenic little town square—gift shops and fountains surrounding a large clock tower. Rolling down the narrow streets were cars of unusual design that seemed to all have three wheels, one in back, two in front. Beyond the square were neat little cottages as far as the eye could see.

  Amy said, “Oh my god,” and I turned back to where the larva had been, now a shriveled husk. Blackness poured out, up and up into the sky, like the plume from an oil well fire. The darkness coalesced into a shape like a giant headless man with goat legs at least a hundred feet tall. I knew I should run but when I tried, my feet stayed planted as if saying, Are you seeing this shit?

  John grabbed my sleeve and pulled me toward the portal, but the moment I spu
n around, the shadow giant swept overhead, blotting out the sun.

  It descended on the village. The tourist family didn’t scream. They didn’t have time, or a reason to. Neither did anyone in the village.

  As the shadow swept over them, it did not destroy the village, it simply changed it. I knew the process from prior experience; it simply reached back in time—thousands of years, maybe millions—and tipped a series of events. As it passed overhead, striding on its goat legs, the village was replaced. And so were the people.

  Where the tourist family had stood were now two eight-foot-tall humanoid beings, skin encrusted with ash-gray scales like the bark of a tree that had survived a forest fire. Their eyes were big and black and cold. They wore clothing that had the look of armor, polished and ornate, full of sinister sharp edges. One of the beings was holding a leash and at the end of it was a naked human child. Its arms and legs had been severed at the joints, the stumps covered in scars and callouses from where it had been walking on all fours all its life. It was starving, skin stretched over its ribs, a slit of white scar tissue where its genitals should have been. The child grunted—it was in the middle of defecating. It then turned and sniffed what it had made.

  In the village beyond, I tried to take in the civilization that had replaced what had been there moments ago. The bark-skinned beings strode around stone buildings that all seemed to have been designed to withstand an invasion from the ground—high, windowless walls and heavy doors. The vehicles that prowled the streets all seemed to be military in nature—armored and on tank treads, rumbling slowly down streets made of some kind of black cobblestone. I saw two more human children, only I now realized they actually weren’t children—that was just the size at which their growth was stunted. They were loping down an alley grunting after a rodent they’d seen. In the street nearest to us, there was a cloud of flies around a pale, twisted shape lying at the end of a brown smear. One of the humans had been run over and left to rot in the sun.

  At the center of town, where before had been the tall clock tower, was a pile of human skulls. Maybe thirty feet wide and a hundred feet tall. It looked old and sacred, a memorial to some historic victory.

  One of the bark-skinned things in front of us shouted a stern command in our direction. He pulled from his back a weapon that looked like a whip—a black handle that led to a bundle of lengths of thin chain. He clicked the handle and the end of each bit of chain glowed orange, as if the whip was designed to brand the flesh as it lashed it. He let go of the leash and the stunted man on all fours came bounding in our direction.

  It made a noise at us, a wet, barking grunt. “AYE! AYE!” And then he spat something that sounded like, “SUBMIT!”

  Amy screamed. I felt Tasker shove past me.

  The man-dog ran, filthy shoulders and ass cheeks bouncing, eyes wild.

  “AYE! SUBMIT! SUBMIT! AYESUBMITAYESUBMITAYESUBMIT!!!”

  John was shouting and then I was being shoved through the portal and found myself back in the NON facility. Tasker had skidded to her knees, having stumbled in her rush to get through. Her suit jacket had flipped up, revealing the holster clipped to her waistband that contained her pistol.

  “SUBMIT! AYE! SUBMIT!”

  The man-dog was coming around, heading for the open portal. I could smell it, the stench of human body odor and fresh shit.

  I snatched the pistol out of Tasker’s holster, spun around, and shot the pathetic thing in its dumb, filthy face, an inch below a matted, filthy white streak of hair dangling over its brow. The thing flopped over and skidded to a stop inches from the door.

  John quickly closed the coffin door and I tossed Tasker’s gun to the floor next to her.

  Breathing heavily, John looked at me and said, “That’s the biggest night shart yet.”

  Tasker looked at Gibson and said, “Send a memo. This is now Class H.”

  I said, “There’s a category beyond extinction level?”

  John said, “Eighteen, apparently. Guys, the Maggie larva was, uh, birthed at the exact same time as Mikey, right? So that means she could hatch at any second, if it’s not happening right now.”

  We all stared at each other for a moment, then ran back through the open steel door, down the row of cells until we found Maggie’s. Her mother was there now—whatever pretense had gotten her out of the way before hadn’t held up for long. John, Amy, and I skidded to a stop in front of the half-eaten woman. Loretta’s eyes went wide. Well, one of them did—the other had been chewed off, along with the left third of her skull—the harried woman wondering what the hell the commotion was about.

  Agent Tasker, who’d been moving at a more dignified pace dictated by the constraints of her businesslike skirt, arrived behind us.

  The Maggie larva looked unchanged, for the moment.

  Tasker said to Loretta, “Why don’t you come with me? We need to run some quick tests.”

  “You can run them with me here.” Loretta, even with several bites having been taken out of her brain, was no dummy.

  Tasker said, “This is a requirement, unfortunately. It would be dangerous for you—”

  “I accept the danger. Give me a waiver, I’ll sign it.”

  Agent Gibson was approaching as well, his cane a third footstep clicking on the floor with each stride. Reaching inside his suit jacket, ready to do this the hard way (or, let’s be honest—the easy way).

  He said, “Come on, Ms. Knoll. Don’t make us—”

  He flinched at the sound of exploding windows behind him.

  26. GRAPPLING HOOKS AREN’T CHEAP, YOU GUYS

  John

  Everyone ran back out of the cell block, into the office area they’d just vacated. Ted Knoll and his comrade were disconnecting the ropes they’d used to swing through the conference room windows from the roof. They whipped assault rifles around to their shoulders and moved out among the cubicles.

  A half dozen of the NON cloaks swarmed out to meet them. Ted and his partner fired exactly six shots. All six targets flopped onto the floor. Not a word had been uttered.

  Ted pointed his assault rifle at Dave and said in a surprisingly calm voice, “Where is she?”

  John said, “You don’t want to do this, Ted. Because of the … radiation? It’s just, everywhere. We’re all radioactive.”

  “Drop the cover. She told me everything.”

  She? John wasn’t sure who he was talking about there. Was it Chastity? Maybe she’d come back to help.

  Loretta appeared in the doorway to the cell block, yelling her husband’s name, asking him what in the world was happening. Ted ran that direction, shouldered past her, and found Maggie’s cell—the only glass wall that was smeared with the cloudy film from where the larva had been crawling over it. John, Dave, and Amy followed him in, Dave ineffectually telling him to wait, to listen.

  Ted told Maggie to hang on, then to no one in particular said, “Open the cell door.”

  The agent Dave called Tasker but whose name was actually Pussnado sauntered up and said, “I will not be doing that, and I assure you, I have very good reasons.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you.” Ted touched an earpiece and said, “Are you reading me? I need that cell door opened, now.”

  The door slid open, the monstrous writhing maggot beyond it squealing and chittering in response. Ted reached down, clutched it to his chest, and shouted commands to his friend to cover their exit.

  Dave said, “Mr. Knoll, you need to listen very, very carefully. You take her out that front door, everybody dies. Everything dies. I can’t even explain the degree to which shit will go wrong.”

  Now it was Ted’s turn to look confused, which quickly turned to annoyance. He seemed to think the two of them were still playing a part, maybe for NON’s benefit.

  In a tone that was only somewhat convincing, he said, “Buddy, you can either stand aside and let me take my daughter outta here, or you can lay dead on the floor while I take my daughter outta here.” Playing along, giving Dave an out.
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  Dave looked pleadingly at John. What could they do? Ted and his partner were armed to the teeth and apparently ex Special Forces. John had nothing but his car keys in his pocket—he doubted he could kill more than one of them before the other took him down.

  Ted brushed past him and moved toward the front entrance of the wellness center, his partner covering the extraction, Loretta right behind them. John, Amy, and Dave watched as the larva passed out of the facility and back into the rain-lashed world.

  From behind John, Amy said, “Guys, is this part of what you set up? Over the weekend, I mean?”

  John said, “Maybe? Damn it, Dave, you should have let me finish explaining it on your ass.”

  But Dave was already moving, running after the dildo launcher John had discarded on the floor. John saw no good ending to Dave trying to fling flaming vibrators at this enraged soldier’s little girl, but he didn’t respond when John told him to forget it.

  John turned and chased after Ted, pushing through the front door in time to see Ted’s Impala skid to a stop, spraying rainwater from all four tires.

  The passenger side window rolled down.

  Korean adult website star Joy Park said, “Get her in! Move! Move!”

  Dave ran up behind John with the dildo launcher, looked at Joy, then looked at John, bewildered. John just shook his head.

  Ted gently handed the squirming larva to Loretta, who climbed into the back seat with it. Ted told them to get to the safe house, that he would meet them there.

  Instead of raining dildo hellfire down upon Ted’s family, Dave said, “Wait,” and told them to pop the trunk. He threw the launcher in and told Ted they may need it. Which was true, but how in the hell they would figure it out in time—if it wasn’t already too late—was anyone’s guess. When Maggie hatched, John figured they’d have a brief moment to register the strange darkness … and then would know nothing at all.

  Dave slammed the trunk and the car tore out of the parking lot. Ted—steadfastly ignoring John, Dave, and Amy—stormed back into the building with his soldier companion in tow.