Skinners Read online

  Steve pushed on the swinging door with the water pistol; it swung open with silent ease. Like a Special Forces hero from the movies his father loves, he moved in a crouch into the bathroom. Steve thought his father would be proud of him for once in his life.

  The stench grew stronger when he entered the room, assaulting his nostrils. He faced a row of urinals, taking shallow breaths through his mouth to avoid puking again. Next to a sink, a trashcan rested on its side in a shallow pool of worm froth. Steve looked past the urinals to a row of stalls. The doors stood open on three of them. The fourth, and the furthest one, was closed. Steve crept along, weapon ready. The first two stalls proved to be empty. The third wasn’t. A person knelt before the toilet, their legs covered with worm ejaculate, their head plunged into the bowl. The arms on either side of the toilet were skinned to the muscle. From behind, Steve couldn’t tell if it was male or female.

  Steve inched closer to the body, his free hand reaching out to grab the corpse and pull it free of the toilet bowl. The victim’s shirt – dark gray, splattered with blood, pus, and other drying fluids he couldn’t identify – caused his hand to stop. He tried to recall what color shirt Lisa had been wearing; he was almost positive it had been a gray t-shirt just like this one. With his fingers millimeters from the corpse’s shoulder, Steve pleaded to a god he’d long since lost faith in, Please don’t be Lisa. Please don’t be Lisa.

  A whimper floated on the rotten air, emanating from the closed stall next to him. Steve snatched his hand back, and backed out of the stall. He left the skinned corpse, inching closer to the shut door as another soft whine drifted out from behind it. He thought of the bloody woman back at the convenience store and the similar noises she’d made seconds before the worms had burst from her face. Shaking the image away, he positioned himself in front of the stall. Steve stood there for a moment, deciding on his best course of action – kick the door open with weapon ready? Or open it gently in case the person needed his help? In the end he went with the more practical stealth approach: he bent over and peered beneath the door.

  On the floor, folded into a tight ball, lay a naked person. The longer Steve stared at the form, the more certain he became of its gender: definitely female.

  His heart thumping in his throat, Steve stood and pushed on the stall door, it squeaked like a leaky balloon as it swung inward. The naked woman turned her face to him.

  Steve lowered his weapon and knelt to help the familiar woman.

  “Lisa.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Lisa,” Steve repeated. “Are you hurt? What happened to your clothes?”

  She stared at him without recognition.

  Steve whipped off his shirt. The fabric clung to his chest where Aubrey’s blood had soaked through. “Here, put this on. I know it’s nasty, but it’ll cover you somewhat.” He struggled to get her arms through the sleeves as they flopped about like dead fish. “Damn, you’re clammy as hell. Must be in shock.”

  “Hey, Thom,” Steve stage-whispered. “Come help me.”

  Thom appeared around the corner in a crouch, his eyes alert. When he saw Steve, shirtless, and the half-naked girl on the floor, his expression turned to confusion.

  Steve answered the unvoiced question. “It’s Lisa. She’s in shock.” He held out the water gun. “Take this, I’ll need to carry her to the car.”

  Thom nodded, grabbed the weapon, and led Steve back into the store. Angie and Leland waited around the corner, clutching the drinks to their chest like protective talismans.

  Thom led the way in silence, the rest of the group following without persuasion. As they shuffled down the aisle, Angie signaled Steve with a wave of her hand, and pointed to a display of sky-blue t-shirts. She pulled one down from the rack, holding it in front of her, modeling it for Steve. The front of the shirt read: Twilight, with an image of the lead characters’ lips inches away from a kiss. Steve shook his head and whispered, “I wouldn’t be caught dead in that.”

  Thom’s perturbed whisper interrupted her fun. “Come on. Quit horsing around.”

  Angie shrugged, the playful grin on her face vanishing as she dropped the shirt to the floor.

  They continued to the exit, the soothing Muzak and their heavy breathing the only sounds in the drugstore. So when the tone sounded, heralding someone’s entrance into the building, the group heard it loud and clear.

  Thom ducked down; the others followed suit. Except for Steve. He didn’t want to put Lisa down in case he had to move in a hurry. Thom caught his attention and pointed to a convex mirror on the wall, the front entrance clearly reflected on its glass. As well as the person stumbling their way.

  Thom gestured for the group to follow and scurried around the corner to the next aisle. The person, a young man, stumbled down the aisle they’d just vacated, and lumbered toward the back of the store. The familiar sores pocked the man’s slack face. They watched as he stopped in front of the men’s room door, his body quivering as if a silent battle raged within him. Then he pushed through the door with violent force, vanishing into the restroom.

  The group exchanged silent, confused looks. Steve shrugged and whispered, “Nature calls?”

  Splashing sounds emanated from the restroom.

  As Steve listened to the splashes, images flashed through his brain like a ricocheting bullet: the skinned corpse with its head in the toilet; the woman at the store pouring water over her face; the man dunking his head in the ice tub. Just like that it all added up.

  “Oh shit,” Steve said. “It’s the water … they need the water to hatch.”

  “What do you mean?” Angie asked.

  Steve turned. “Go. Just go. We need to get out of here now.”

  Before Thom could turn to lead them out, a sticky, white web whistled through the air, latching onto the flesh of his forearm.

  Thom bellowed in pain as the MOTHER tattoo he’d worn for decades was removed in seconds.

  Chapter Eleven

  Crashing sounds followed Thom’s howl of agony as worms navigated the aisles, drawn to the scream like sharks to chum.

  Dropping the water pistol and clutching the flowing wound, Thom sucked in a breath to stifle another cry.

  Steve realized it was too late for stealth. “GO!”

  Ten feet away, the worm slurped down the tattooed flesh, too busy with its meal to care about Steve’s shout, but the even larger worm that rounded the corner had other motives. The giant creature pivoted its eyeless head in the direction of Steve’s voice. It slithered along the smooth tiles with deceptive speed, straight in Steve’s direction.

  Cradling Lisa, Steve could only backpedal as the monster worm approached, the extra weight of the girl in his arms carrying his momentum faster than his feet. He plopped to the hard floor, sending a white-hot spark of pain up his tailbone. He sat there, helpless, the semi-conscious Lisa on his lap, as the beast rose in the air like a cobra from a snake charmer’s basket, its aperture spreading open. Steve readied himself for the pain of its flesh-ripping proboscis when Lisa suddenly awoke, moaning and squirming about.

  The worm didn’t strike. Its glistening sphincter squeezed shut.

  Before Steve could ponder his good fortune, a stream of liquid splashed the monster’s head. It screeched, writhing in glorious pain. Steve looked up to see Angie madly pumping the water gun, dousing the thing to death, and then spinning to attack another approaching worm with the same outcome. The rubbery brown flesh of the beasts sloughed off, smacking to the floor in gelatinous puddles.

  Without pausing her attack, Angie yelled, “Get up … Go!”

  Steve did as Angie commanded, and stumbled past his savior with his cumbersome cargo.

  Angie continued her assault as more worms flowed around the corner. They retreated as soon as the water gun’s contents touched their flesh. Inhuman shrieks filled the store, drowning out the soothing instrumental music.

  Steve heard the chime above the shrieks as Thom and Leland exited the store. He halted before it wa
s his turn to escape, and spun around to help Angie any way he could. She didn’t need it. The young redhead resembled a goddess of war as she single-handedly held back the tide of monsters while casually backing her way to the exit. Steve waited for her to reach his position, and they both exited together.

  Once outside, Steve set Lisa on the sidewalk and ran to the soda machine next to the entrance. He struggled to move the massive object, groaning with exertion. Instantly understanding his intentions, Thom and Angie jumped to help, cautioning Leland to stay back. Together they forced the machine over with a tremendous crash, blocking the drugstore’s doors. No more than a second later, a knot of worms crashed into the other side of the glass doors. Their weight triggered the sensor, but the doors only opened an inch before striking the prone soda machine.

  Steve flipped the alien creatures the finger. Several sticky webs slapped the glass to reach the offending digit. Jumping back from the doors, Steve tripped over Lisa, and once again fell on his ass.

  A giggle broke the cool night air. Steve looked up to see Leland pointing at him, laughing. The laughter spread through the group, relieving the tension from the encounter. Even Thom – pale and in obvious discomfort – managed a slight grin.

  Lisa remained silent, lying curled on the ground, eyes bouncing from each of the laughing group. She forced herself to a seated position and smiled. At least she tried to smile. The result was more of a tooth-clenching grimace than a grin.

  Steve knelt in front of her. “You feeling better, Lisa?”

  The grimace vanished and Lisa met his eyes. She nodded once, and tried to stand as Steve got back to his feet. Her legs quivered like a newborn fawn’s. Steve caught her before she could fall back to the sidewalk.

  Thom yanked a bandana from his rear pocket and wrapped it around his forearm. Steve watched with disgust, praying it wasn’t the same rag he’d used earlier to clean blood from the woman’s chin. He tied the knot with his teeth, the bandana instantly saturated. “Okay, Steve. Can we take these guys to the gymnasium now?”

  Supporting Lisa, Steve said, “You think there’ll be someone there to help Lisa. From the looks of that ambulance, I don’t think the hospital would be the best place to take her.”

  Thom jumped behind the wheel of the Jeep and cranked the engine. “Sheriff said it was our best bet. I guess we’ll see. Hop in.”

  Steve helped Leland into the back seat, followed by Angie – still clutching the water gun – then Lisa. She groaned as he squeezed her into the tight space.

  “Whoa,” Steve said, covering his nose. “Man, Lisa, your breath is rank.” He flipped the seat back and jumped into the front passenger side, still fanning his face. He glanced over at Thom’s pale features and shaking hands. “Thom, you want me to drive?”

  “No way,” Thom said, clenching his jaws, failing to hide his pain. “Nobody drives my baby.”

  The Jeep’s engine roared, and they sped away from the store the instant Steve’s door banged shut. Either Thom didn’t see the man in time, or his reflexes were slowed from the injury.

  “Waaa––”

  The man never got to finish the second syllable as the Jeep buried its grill in his chest. Washed in the headlights, the unfortunate man’s leaking sores were clear for all to see, so when the Jeep plowed into him, his skull bouncing of the hood of the car, Steve was surprised when Thom slammed on the brakes and cried out, “Oh noooo!”

  “It’s okay, Thom,” Steve soothed. “He was infected.”

  “What? … Oh, no, I don’t care about him. Look at the hood of my car.”

  Thom leaned forward, staring at the circular dent with a look of profound sadness. Steve tapped him on the hand resting on the gearshift. “Uh, Thom? Can we go?”

  “I just had her washed too,” Thom grumbled. He slammed the shifter into first and peeled out, thumping over the infected man.

  As they pulled out of the parking lot and back on to the highway, Angie leaned forward and whispered in Steve’s ear. “Can you open your window, please? Your friend smells a little off.”

  Steve nodded, agreeing with her, the stench unbearable in the tight, closed space. He unzipped the plastic window, letting in fresh air. “Thanks,” Angie said, leaning back, her shoulder bumping against Lisa. She faced Lisa to apologize, and froze, the unspoken apology trapped in her lungs. Lisa’s grimacing smile had returned. She stared wide-eyed at Angie, unblinking, lifted a pale hand and rubbed Angie on the leg, as if inspecting the fabric of her jeans.

  Repulsed, Angie moved her leg away from the girl’s touch. She examined the pale flesh of Lisa’s arm and slender legs. Her repulsion soon turned to adolescent jealousy as she realized how smooth and unblemished the girl’s skin appeared. It was flawless. Like she’d been airbrushed. Angie hated the ginger freckles peppering her own flesh, and despised girls with perfect skin like Lisa’s. She turned away from Lisa. At least I don’t smell like a dumpster.

  Thom slowed the Jeep as the deserted vehicles came into sight. In a slurred voice, he asked, “Do you want to take her car and follow us?”

  “I would,” Steve said, shaking his head, “but the keys weren’t in it. They were probably in her pocket, but I don’t know what happened to her clothes.” In actuality, Steve thought he did know, but didn’t feel like he needed to explain it to them under the circumstances. It had happened before. She’d been coming down hard off the smack, sweating profusely and complaining about her skin burning. She’d then proceeded to strip down and spread out on the cool bathroom floor of their dingy motel room. “Let me go pop the trunk though, our bags are in there, I’ll grab her something to put on.”

  Thom brought the car to a complete stop and scanned the area. “All right, just hurry up and only grab what you need.”

  Without comment, Steve jumped out and jogged to the Volvo. He reached in through the open driver-side window and pulled the latch that popped the trunk, retreated to the rear of the car, and found their backpacks. He emptied the contents of their packs onto the floor of the trunk, grabbing the garments he thought she would need, and a shirt for himself. He stuffed what they needed into one pack and slipped on the semi-clean t-shirt, relishing the cool cotton on his skin. He shouldered the pack and backed away from the open trunk. A strange noise reached his ears as he turned to head back to the Jeep, emanating from somewhere along the road behind him.

  The tiny bulb from the open trunk, and the red brake lights of the Jeep were Steve’s only sources of illumination. Thick clouds had rolled in, covering the moon and stars, shrouding the road in darkness. He squinted as the odd note came again, but saw nothing move in the blackness.

  “Come on,” Thom hollered. “Let’s go.”

  Still searching the dark, Steve raised his hand. “Hold on … don’t you hear that?”

  The sound grew louder – a clipped, steady toot of a horn. Steve squinted even harder as something materialized on the road, swaying from side to side, glowing red from the brake lights. He placed the sound as an old-timey bike horn an instant before the clown came into view.

  The bulb horns on the clown’s giant shoes honked with every shuffling step. Blood oozed from multiple wounds on his painted face. One over-sized gloved hand clutched what at first appeared to be a coupling knot of worms. A second later, Steve recognized the tangle of flaccid balloons.

  Steve turned his face up to the sky, once again addressing that absent deity. “Come on … really? A fucking clown? You think that’s funny?”

  With the knowledge the infected were harmless unless they found a water source, Steve exhaled in relief, saluted the approaching jester, and calmly headed back to the Jeep.

  He stopped when a cool drop of water splashed onto his forehead. He wiped the moisture away and stared up into the cloudy night sky again. Another drop pelted him in the face, and then another.

  Rain.

  Steve looked back at the clown. His bulbous red nose pointed toward the sky; the greasepaint on his cheeks bulged.

  “Shit …
We’re fucked.”

  Chapter Twelve

  He sprinted to the Jeep as the saturated clouds released their payload, soaking his fresh shirt. He flung the door open, tossed the backpack to the floor, shouting for Thom to drive before he was even in the seat. He slammed the door. The Jeep didn’t move.

  “GO!” Steve shouted. He looked over to see Thom with his forehead leaning against the steering wheel. He grabbed the man’s shoulder and shook him violently. “Thom?”

  Thom lifted his head, put the Jeep in first, and popped the clutch. The car bounced and jerked, almost stalling, then sped off. Steve glanced through the rear window, past the frightened and perplexed faces of Angie and Leland, and the blank stare of Lisa. The clown had vanished.

  The jeep slowed, came to a stop, coughed, and stalled with a jolt.

  When Steve turned to ask why the hell they were stopping, he saw Thom leaning against the driver side window. He shook him again. “Thom, wake up.” When the old man didn’t respond he engaged the emergency brake and jumped out of the vehicle. The rain drenched him again the second he stepped out. Steve searched the road, expecting to see worms scurrying his way, but the darkness hid them. Likewise, the hissing rain covered any chance of hearing the creatures approach. Still, he knew they were coming.

  Steve sprinted around the vehicle and opened Thom’s door. With a grunt, he caught the man as he spilled from his seat. “Angie, help me move him over. Hurry!”

  Angie reached over the seat and grabbed Thom’s belt, pulling with all her might. She still didn’t know why Steve was in such a panic, and figured now wasn’t the time to ask. Steve pushed as she pulled, managing to maneuver the big man over the gearshift and into the passenger seat.

  Steve jumped into the driver’s seat just as something smacked into the back window. Turning, he saw the plastic rear window ripped away, disappearing into the night. Angie and Leland screamed, leaning forward in their seat. Lisa stared at Steve, grinning. Not the strange grimace from before, but a normal sweet smile.