The Creepers Read Online Free

He pressed the
button on top of the remote detonator.
    “Bo—”
    The explosion sent birds scattering from
the trees, and the air grew hot, a massive wall of dirt, blood and smoke shot
into the sky. The ground rippled and knocked the boys flat on their backs.
Chunks of Creeper twirled in the air.
    Bobby stared into the sky then covered
his face as the body parts rained down.
    As the rolling echoes of the blast faded
from the valley,a new sound emerged:Ryan’s laughter, gut shaking, balls out laughter, and
it was infectious. Bobby couldn’t hold back. He joined in, unable to control
the cackles that tickled his belly.
    Bobby’s entire body tingled with
excitement. He was elated, much like countless boys throwing fireworks on hot
summer nights in a world without the horrors of the First War. But Ryan’s
display was ridiculous. The part of the bluff they stood on only moments ago
was gone, evaporated in the blast. Bits of dirt drifted on the stiff breeze.
The cloud towered over them a deep, dark orange and purple beast in the sun’s
last gasps. Night was not far off. They’d be toiling in the shit trenches for
sure this time . . . maybe worse.
    “Bo-Bo-Bobby! Get it off! Get it off
me!" Ryan’s laughter turned to screams, terror-filled cries of pain.
    Bobby jumped up and turned. The remnants
of the old woman lay on Ryan. Her purple dress was gone, blown away in the
blast. All that remained was her upper half,a
ragged mess of guts, skin and muscle tissue trailed behind her like slime behind
a snail. Her hair smoked and parts of her scalp were still burning from the
heat of the explosion. The Creeper opened its charred mouth wide and bit down
on Ryan’s forearm. What few teeth the old woman had left made quick work of
Ryan’s skin, slid into the muscle tissue, found bone. She pulled her head back
and swallowed like a shark gulping down a seal. Ryan’s blood splattered her
face, steamy and hot.
    Bobby reached for the revolver, found
nothing. He panicked. The Creeper came in for another bite.
    Ryan did not cry because tears were the
Devil’s work and weakness would not be tolerated. Ryan fought back with one
good arm jammed under the Creeper’s jaw. The gnarled fingers knocked the hat
from Ryan’s head. He growled in its face, the youthfulness gone, replaced with
that of a much older adult with many winters under his belt. But his strength
waned and his arm slipped.
    Bobby charged. He lowered his shoulder
and crashed into the old woman. They tumbled off Ryan, the vibrant youth and
the rotting meat. Bobby felt the old woman’s clammy face brush his exposed
stomach, a sharp sting. Flailing wildly,he
managed to force the Creeper away. The haggard face released a blood curdling
moan. Drops of Ryan’s blood and thick, slimy saliva rolled down its chin. Its
dark eyes stared at something Bobby could not see, could not understand. Its
head rocked back.
    The report from Ryan’s rifle silenced
the old woman forever. Her brains glistened in the last rays of the sun.
    Bobby looked at Ryan. The black-haired
youth was propped on his injured arm but he held the carbine steady in the
other. Sweat, blood and dirt streaked his face.
    Bobby’s heart raced. He checked his
stomach and pulled his windbreaker down. He’d been bitten, too.

CHAPTER
3
     
    The field dressing was the best Bobby
could manage with their meager supplies. He hoped he’d been quick enough to cut
off the blood flow with his shoelace, but he wasn’t sure.
    “It’s numb, and itchy,” Ryan said. He
held up his swollen limb all blue and black for Bobby’s approval. “This’ll be a
scar to flaunt,” Ryan kidded, shaking his head.
    “It’ll be okay." He spoke
carefully, trying everything in his power to keep the despair from his voice.
    “No, it won’t. She bit me, Bobby. Thebitch-bastard-Creeper bit me. I’m done. Done . . .” Ryan
punched the ground in anger rather than giving in to grief with tears.
    The moon poked its gleaming white face
in between