Sam

First a link to today’s 24/7 effort: Rain

Life rolls on. Money is still of some concern, but I’m confident it’ll all work itself out without killing me, so it’s all good. I sent out another resume last night to another clinic in the city, in case place #1 doesn’t work out. It’s good to have options.

Now, on with more gruesomeness.

***

Sam Tanaka stood on the balcony of his apartment on the eighteenth floor and gazed out over the city. A late afternoon sun sank toward his right. He shivered as he looked downtown and the general site of the disastrous ‘Fun Run’. Unbidden memories rose in his mind. The day of the run played like a horror film on the screen of memory, every detail in high definition. Especially details he would just as soon forget.

There they were, he and Darren, running gently along close to the rear of the pack of runners. Arms and legs moved in synchronized patterns, their breathing smooth and steady. The pavement seemed to flow beneath their feet. Above them, the sky was the washed-out blue of summer in the city. Sam tried not to look lower down where the blue shaded to beige near the horizon. It offended him to be able to see the air he breathed. That was another reason he preferred working at night; he could pretend the air was clean, even though only the brightest stars were strong enough to shine through the airborne grime.

As he and Darren jogged the route through the streets, the relaxed more and more with each kilometre that passed. Then they made the turn into High Park. At first, everything seemed fine. Then: "What’s that?" Darren asked. "Listen."

They kept running, and Sam strained his ears to hear over the sound of their footfalls. "Sounds like screaming."

The path curved and as they rounded it, they were almost knocked down by a small group of people sprinting back the way they’d come. "Whoa!" Sam sidestepped. "What the hell–?" He turned to watch them.

"Sam!" A note of hysteria in Darren’s voice snapped Sam’s head back around. It took a moment for his brain to interpret the images entering via his optic nerves. Dozens of small furry creatures darted among the runners, snarling and biting. Blood flowed in streams, rivers, pooled in places.

Sam and Darren stood in their tracks, mouths agape. Sam saw people down on the ground, animals tearing their bellies open. Unidentifiable things slithered out of torn abdomens and glistened on the ground. Shrieks and screams filled his ears, soaked into his brain. Mixed with the sounds of human agony were the snarls of the animals. Sam had never heard anything like it in his life. From low rumbles to high-pitched screeches, the things sounded as if they had come from the depths of Hell itself.

People fled in  all directions. Some left trails of blood, some stumbled and fell, only to be swarmed by the Things. With a start of horror, Sam realized a group had crept up on him and Darren from the side. He yelled, grabbed Darren by the arm  and yanked.

Before they could run, one of the animals fastened itself onto Darren’s ankle. Without thinking, Sam stomped on the middle of the creature’s back. Bones crunched under his foot. The Thing screamed and its front end writhed unpleasantly under his foot. He pulled Darren’s arm. "Run or die!" he shouted into Darren’s pale face. Wide eyes stared back. Sam could see signs of shock. He kicked out at another Thing, screamed again and Darren and ran. He leapt over two more, landed running and took off back along the paved path. He heard a scream from Darren and hesitated, half turning to look back.

Three of the Things were biting Darren’s legs, clawing the flesh of his calves. Sam wavered, torn between helping his friend and the imperative of self-preservation. Conscience overrode common sense and he started back. Darren moved suddenly and kicked one of the creatures loose. He staggered, blood running freely down one leg. Sam kicked the others that were gathering and with a suddenness he wouldn’t have believed if he hadn’t seen it, they turned on him.

Crazy Sally’s voice spoke in his mind. "Run faster than you ever ran before." This time he launched himself into an all-out sprint. He heard the Things following him and hoped they had abandoned Darren.

Their speed astonished him. Nothing that small, even with four legs, should have been able to keep up the pace for any distance, but he heard their unmistakable guttural sounds too close for his sense of safety.

He fled past benches, lamp posts, fallen people. He ran, not caring if those he passed lived or died. He burst out of the park into the chaos of sirens, police and paramedics. When hands reached for him, he slapped them aside and screamed his horror in wordless protest. Slowly, he realized he was safe. He let someone lead him to an ambulance and help him inside..

"I’m okay," he croaked.

"You think so, eh?" said the paramedic. She pointed with her chin at Sam’s leg. A small piece of his calf was missing and his sock was soaked red. He became aware that his shoe felt squishy, probably half-full of blood. The paramedic cleaned the wound. "When was your last tetanus shot?" she asked.

"About four years ago," he said. "Is it bad?"

"No. Not really. Just a little chunk out. What did it?" Deft fingers applied a pad and gauze, wrapping his calf securely.

"I don’t know," he said. "There were a lot of them, whatever they are." He looked through the open doors at the deceptively calm trees. "My friend is still back there. They were on hi

s legs and then they came after me. I don’t know if he made it or not."

The paramedic’s eyes rose, widening. "What do you mean, ‘made it’?"

"The Things were killing people," he said. "I saw them ripping someone’s guts out. They were eating him and he was still alive." He began to shake then. His entire body felt cold, frozen. Shivers rocked him.

"Lie down." The paramedic pushed him down on the stretcher and made him roll onto his side. Then she covered him with a blanket. "You’re in shock," she told him. "Just lie here, okay?"

He nodded, still shivering. "Wait, before you go. My friend’s name is Darren Schneider. If you see him, tell him Sam’s okay."

"I will," she said.

Outside, voices shouted. The paramedic climbed out and joined the other emergency response team members. Sam lay on the stretcher and listened to the hubbub. He hoped Darren was alive, and he thought again of Crazy Sally’s admonishment to stay in the dark of night. That was good advice.

The ringing of the doorbell pulled him to the present. He hurried to the door and pressed the intercom button. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Liam Devereux," came the reply. "We spoke on the phone."

"Come on up." Sam pressed the button to release the door lock and waited for his visitor to arrive.

***

Okay. That’s enough for the moment.