Skinners Page 2

  Angie touched the bruise on her cheekbone, hissing at the pain. She still couldn’t believe her father had hit her when she’d tried to stop him; and that her mom had just watched, stumbling after her husband. They both shambled off like drunks, following the crowd, leaving their vehicles and belongings behind. Angie had no idea why her parents had left, but somehow she knew they wouldn’t be coming back.

  At the start of the evening, Angie had moped along, pissed off at being forced to come to the event. She’d texted her best friend, Laura, during the entire ride, sharing her misery. Laura’s parents were out of town, and she was having some close friends over for a party that night, a good portion of the senior class. Angie had invited her current crush, Curt Bellicec, to the shindig to get to know him better, in the hopes he’d ask her to prom. Instead she’d been forced to go on this stupid family outing.

  Highpoint – the vast gravel parking lot hosting the event – claimed to be the highest point in the state, overlooking the surrounding towns. She’d laughed at the sign as they’d driven past. How original, she thought. Lowpoint is more like it. I could be snuggled up with Curt right about now, but instead I’m babysitting, and watching rednecks chug beer and shove fried food down their gullets. From her current vantage point she could see taller peaks in the distance, proving the claim of highest point was stretching the truth somewhat.

  Angie’s parents had a strange infatuation with small town festivals such as these, and they seemed to relish in torturing her with each new find. In her eyes, the events were all the same – an excuse to drink beer; eat funnel cakes and corndogs; and listen to horrible live music. And so far, the Kibner Meteor Festival seemed no different.

  The fact that she hadn’t seen a single shooting star for the first hour wasn’t helping her irritable condition either. With big goofy grins, her parents had told her to loosen up, have patience, and then they proceeded to do the unspeakable: they started dancing like idiots as the band broke into Madonna’s Lucky Star. At least this had made Leland giggle with delight, which in turn had helped to cleanse her dour mood, and Angie had actually begun enjoying herself.

  With Leland clutching her hand, she’d wandered the grounds. To her surprise, there were plenty of things to do besides getting hammered on cheap beer. There were telescopes setup to view the bright half moon; a constellation class taught by an elderly man resembling a stereotypical mad scientist; a dunk tank to raise money for the local library; and there was even a goofy clown wandering among the crowd, entertaining the kids, twisting balloons into facsimiles of animals, or at least trying his best (the clown’s balloon-bunny resembled a horned demon more than a rabbit). With every exaggerated step, his giant clown shoes emitted short, honking blasts, making even the most frightened kids giggle, momentarily curing them of their coulrophobia.

  After the strange cloud of glowing dust had descended on them, and her parents had walked off, Angie’s joy had turned to confusion, and then fear, followed by anger. Call it teenage angst, but she was still upset with her parents despite the feeling they’d been under some sort of spell, as if hypnotized. Leaving your kids behind was not cool in her eyes. Now, as she walked down the gravel road with Leland, the same array of emotions coursed through her.

  “Angie, I’m tired,” Leland whined, dragging his feet to prove his point.

  “I know, me too, buddy.”

  “Why are we walking?”

  “Daddy took the keys to the car.”

  “Why?”

  Angie sighed. “I don’t know why, buddy. No more questions for––”

  “Water.”

  Angie turned toward the voice and screamed, pulling her brother behind her. A man exited the woods to their right, stumbling onto the road. Shirtless, the man lumbered towards them, open sores covering his face, chest, and bulging gut.

  He reached out for the soda in Leland’s hand, and repeated, “Water.”

  Angie grabbed the can from Leland and tossed it at the approaching man. He caught it as it bounced of his chest. An almost surprised look flashed across his face as he stared at the can in his hand. He then poured the fizzy contents over his face and into his open mouth, dropped the can, and froze in place.

  Angie backed away, shielding her brother from the stranger. The man’s sores jutted and bulged for a few seconds, then flattened and remained still. He heaved once, then again. On the third heave, dark blood ejected from his mouth and nostrils, splashing the gravel at his feet. As if nothing had happened, the man lurched down the path, stumbling and kicking rocks. Angie and Leland watched until he disappeared around a bend.

  Leland tugged on Angie’s blouse. “That man was sick like Mommy and Daddy, wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah,” she said, moving forward again, skirting the blood, glancing around at the dark woods. “I guess he was.”

  “It was the stuff from the splosions,” Leland said.

  “The what?”

  “The splosions. When the meteors blew up.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Angie said, “the explosions. I think you’re on to somethin’ there, kiddo.” She patted his head again. Crazy as it sounded, she knew Leland was right. It definitely had to do with the stuff that came out of the sky.

  * * *

  After several more torturous cover tunes, and more embarrassing dancing from her parents, Angie’s patience had been rewarded. The meteors had finally made an appearance to their own party.

  The oohs and ahhs of the crowd could be heard even over the loud band. Angie had watched the celestial display from the driver’s seat of her parents’ Land Cruiser, Leland strapped in the passenger seat, the dome light off, their doors open wide to let in the cool breeze. He’d been too scared to be outside during the peak of the meteor shower, so she’d had the great idea of viewing it through the closed moon roof.

  She’d tapped the thick glass above their heads. “See, the meteors can’t hurt us in here.” The smile on her little brother’s face as he enjoyed the spectacle had been the best part of the night for her.

  That’s about the time things went south, as if Angie’s last statement had been a direct challenge to the gods.

  Blinding lights streaked above, scarring the night sky. In unison, the crowd on the mountain screamed with Leland as night morphed into day, as if a claw had ripped open the heavens, allowing the angelic light behind the black curtain of night to bleed through. Many onlookers froze with corndogs half shoved into their faces; others clutched one another, fearing the end of the world. After the intense flares faded, nervous laughter floated on the air. The embarrassing displays of fear and the humbling power of the universe created an uncomfortable weight in the air. The only remedy seemed to be laughter.

  As the mirth spread, a single cheer erupted. And like an airborne toxin, it infected everyone. Soon, the entire mountaintop cheered, whether at witnessing or surviving the incident nobody knew, nor did it matter. Normalcy once again washed over the crowd, the subconscious feelings of impotence quickly dispersed by the false security of unity.

  Angie applauded and laughed too, mainly to comfort Leland. “Wow! Those were big ones weren’t they?” She reached over and punched him lightly on the arm. “Wasn’t that awesome, Leelee?”

  Leland wasn’t laughing. He shook his head, a frown pasted on his face.

  As quickly as it had begun, the merriment trailed off into silence. Angie glanced past Leland to see what had hushed the crowd. In the distance, bright orange particles shifted against the night sky like embers from a bonfire. Only instead of floating skyward, these embers were raining down toward the lights of a distant town. The particles moved like a flock of birds caught in a twister, swirling swarms of glowing dots.

  Confused murmurs filtered through the throng, speculations on the identity of the strange horde of incandescent specks. Then the embers changed course, whirling their way toward Highpoint, targeting the mesmerized stargazers. The murmurs became screams of panic as the crowd scattered, fleeing for their vehicles, searching
for loved ones.

  Angie yelled for her parents as the living cloud of glitter closed in. Her mom turned to her children with a look of surprise as the orange particles streaked from the sky and engulfed her face. Her father scrambled to help her, only to be enveloped by a mist of the silent embers. The couple screamed and flailed about as if being attacked by hornets.

  Angie slammed her door, and pleaded for Leland to do the same as the particles attacked the upturned faces of bewitched onlookers and stragglers unable to make it to the shelter of their cars in time. Leland reached for the door handle, but his hand came up short as the seat belt caught. Angie leapt across her brother’s lap, reaching for the door, catching a glimpse of her parents writhing in pain on the ground. She squeezed the leather grip and pulled with all her might. The door slammed shut, the sound filling her with shame and guilt for not helping her parents, but her little brother’s safety had taken precedent.

  If the windows had been down, the interior of the car would’ve been flooded with the substance. A bright orange glow filled the cab instead, as the flecks of light bounced off the windows with a faint ticking sound like freezing rain. She looked up through the moon roof to see the embers of starlight settle on the glass, eager to reach her face.

  As she watched in terrified awe, the glow faded from the particles. She expected to see something, ash or some kind of residue left behind. Instead, she saw nothing. The embers were gone. The night sky gazed down through the clear moon roof. Darkness once again filled the interior of the vehicle.

  Gone as well were the screams of the people trapped outside. Angie spied her parents, standing upright, their faces turned up toward the heavens. A lone shooting star streaked across the night sky.

  Angie opened her door, but Leland’s tiny hand grabbed her shirt. She turned to calm him, saw him staring out the windshield, and followed his gaze. The crowd of stargazers stood about, also staring at the night sky, silent as statues.

  “Don’t go out there,” Leland whispered.

  She peeled his hand from her shirt. “It’s okay,” she said, trying her best to disguise the shaking of her voice. “I’m just going to get Mom and Dad so we can leave. I’ll be right back.”

  In unison, the silent crowd lowered their faces and walked away from the cars, moving along the gravel road leading back down the mountain. Their parents followed. Angie jumped from the car and ran to block her dad.

  “Dad … hey … where’re you going? Is everything all right?” When he didn’t respond she focused on her mother. “Mom? What’s going on?” She too didn’t answer. Angie noticed small pimple-like sores on their faces. She grabbed her father’s sweatshirt and tugged. That’s when he’d turned, and without blinking, backhanded her face.

  Angie had sat there on the grass where she’d fallen, holding her cheek. Through tears she watched her parents stumble away with the rest of the people. She heard other folks dealing with similar situations, trying in vain to convince loved ones to stay. Cars drove past without offering assistance. Through the windows of one vehicle she could see parents assisting struggling children, pouring water over the sores on their faces. Angie had stayed that way, watching the mass exodus of people and cars, until she felt the tug on her shirt.

  “Angie? Where they going?”

  She’d wiped her cheeks and looked up into the shiny eyes of her brother. She stood and dusted her jeans. “I don’t know … but I’m sure they’ll be back.”

  She’d considered trying one of the other abandoned cars spread out across the mountaintop, but opted to walk instead; stealing a car wouldn’t look good on her permanent record. So, she’d grabbed a soda from the cooler for Leland, and started down on foot, following the path her parents had taken, in search of someone that could help. She’d called her parents’ phones several times, but neither one answered. She then tried 911 but got a busy signal.

  That’s never a good sign.

  Not knowing whom else to call, she dialed Laura. She answered on the fifth ring, shouting above loud thumping music. “Angie?”

  Angie stopped walking. “Laura, just listen, something weird has happened and I need––”

  “Okay, Angie, I’m lithening.”

  “Are you drunk?”

  “Just a little bit…Okay, maybe a lot bit.”

  Angie waited as her friend giggled at the unfunny comment. A playful male voice called out Laura’s name above the music in the background. Laura hushed him. Angie recognized that voice immediately.

  “Is that Curt?” Angie asked, knowing damn well it was, but wondering if her friend would lie.

  “Whaaat? Nooo. He left when he found out you weren’t coming.”

  Angie’s cheeks flushed with heat. All worries of her and Leland’s predicament were forgotten. “Laura, I know that’s him. Why are you lying? What’s going on?”

  “Well … I mean … you know … it’s not like you guys are dating or anything. And … well, he asked me to prom so …”

  “Bitch!” Angie screamed into the phone, and slammed it to the gravel road. The phone broke apart, pieces sailing into the darkness. Angie stared at the remnants, her breath heaving. She stomped on the shattered remains. “Bitch!”

  Kicking a piece of phone into the bushes, Angie snatched her brother’s hand, and pulled him down the path.

  They spied several people along the way, all of them walking with the same somnambulistic gait. The man with the big gut was the only one that approached them, however. Others crossed their path, but paid them no mind, plowing through the heavy growth alongside the road, blazing their own trails. All had the same festering wounds on their gaunt faces. At one point, above the sounds of people thrashing through the brush, Angie thought she could hear the distant honking of the clown’s shoes.

  After almost an hour of walking they finally made it to the highway. The road seemed different this late at night, desolate. Earlier it had been crammed with cars on their way to the festival. She began to think she might be on the wrong road, until the lights of the convenience store appeared in the distance.

  Angie sighed and smiled to her little brother. “We’re going to be okay, buddy. That’s the store we stopped at earlier.”

  Holding hands, they headed toward the lights of the Gas n Snax.

  Chapter Three

  Still screaming, Steve lifted his t-shirt and freed the pistol from his belt. However, instead of pulling the trigger, he chucked the gun at the worm-infested man’s head; it sailed over his target, missing completely, sending a web of cracks across the front window of the store as it bounced off the glass.

  The worms – each at least five feet long, with the thickness of a broom handle – smacked to the tiles, flailing and whipping about in the spilled water. The man and woman crumpled to the floor a second later, the swollen lumps on their faces now replaced with yawning craters.

  The three stunned bystanders back-pedaled to the glass doors of the coolers. The flooded floor in front of them seethed with thick, squirming creatures.

  “What the fuck are those things?” Steve shouted. “They came out of their faces … out of their fucking faces!”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Thom shouted back. He grabbed the rack of cheap baseball caps next to him and flung it toward the writhing mass. The closest worm wrapped around the metal rack like a boa constrictor, squeezing it flat with ease.

  “Holy shit,” Aubrey said. “Come on, this way.” He scurried around the corner, motioning for them to follow.

  Sirens whined in the distance, drawing closer.

  Steve laughed aloud. Finally. I never thought I’d be glad to see the cops.

  Through the shattered window, Steve could see the Volvo peel away from the lot, the taillights shrinking down the two-lane highway.

  Lisa, you bitch!

  Seconds later, a police cruiser and an ambulance sped past the store in the same direction as Steve’s ride.

  “Hey,” Steve shouted. “Where’re you assholes going?”

 
Thom slapped Steve on the back. “Come on.”

  Steve followed Thom around the corner and stopped when he saw the old man disappear through the cooler door being held open by the clerk. “It’s cold as shit in there, man,” Steve said to Aubrey. “We’ll freeze.”

  Wide-eyed, Aubrey pointed to the worms, now making their way toward the coolers, splashing filthy water about as they squirmed across the floor. “Yeah, but there’s none of those things in there, you idiot. Get in.”

  Steve stepped into the frigid room. Aubrey followed and shut the door.

  Panting, puffs of fog billowing from his mouth, Thom peered through the rack of energy drinks, watching the worms on the other side of the glass doors. He tried counting their numbers, but stopped after twelve. “I can’t tell how many of ‘em are out there. They’re all jumbled up. There’s gotta be at least twenty of ‘em, maybe more.” He shook his head, giving up on trying to count the creatures. “I don’t know what the hell those things are, but I think we should be safe in here for a bit.”

  Steve threw his hands in the air. “Well that’s great. Thanks for the info, old-timer. What the fuck are we gonna do, huh? Freeze to death while we wait for someone to show up? What if one of you have what those people had and––”

  Thom spun to face Steve, silencing his jabbering with a look of rage. “The name’s Thom, with an h. Call me old-timer one more time and I’ll throw you out there with those things. And what we’re going to do is wait until there’s an opening, and then we’re going to get the hell out of this store. And nobody’s freezing to death. It’s a cooler not a freezer.”

  Steve backed away, hands up. “Okay … sorry, I’m just a little stressed out here. I’ve never seen anything like that before. I mean … what the hell are those things?”

  The anger faded from Thom’s eyes. “It’s okay. Like I said, I don’t know what those things are. So let’s watch and see if we can learn anything.”

  Their heavy breaths misting in the frigid air, Steve and Aubrey took up positions behind neighboring racks of beverages, watching the writhing worms with disgust. From their separate vantage points the trio could see down most of the small store’s aisles.