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.My mouth and nose burned from the bile-laced mixture that spewed from deep inside my guts.I staggered back, unable to see for a moment.Over the ringing in my ears I heard Pluck snarl and bark as he threw himself at the unnatural thing that threatened his master.I probably owe my life to that stupid dog.His sudden yelp brought me back.My eyes cleared, and I could see Ed holding something in his hands.It took another second to overcome the shock of what I was seeing.It held Pluck by a hind leg and his collar as it buried its face into that soft, warm, scratchable belly.When its head snapped up, long strands of skin and viscera pulled away.My best friend howled loud enough to drown out my own cry.But for a moment anyway, Ed was occupied.God help me.I ran.I scrambled for the door, fumbling with the lock for seconds which seemed eternal before I could yank it open, and I ran away.I ran away from my apartment.I ran away from all my stuff.I ran away from that smell of death, and blood, and puke.I ran away from Ed.I ran away from Pluck!At the bottom of the stairs was a small, pink bicycle with training wheels.My mind held up a mental flash card of a tiny Mexican girl.She would ride that bike around the square inner-courtyard of the complex.She always rang the little bell on her handlebars if she came up on somebody from behind.She would laugh.So I ran.I reached the parking lot and realized that I had never bothered to grab my keys.The stupid ones in the movies always go back.My mind flashed on that image of the Ed-thing taking a bite out of the middle of my dog.Every hero in the movies knows how to hotwire a car.I had no clue.I still wasn’t going back.I stood there like an idiot for a moment, then heard a low steady sound.The backside of my apartment complex’s parking lot is a steep, tree-covered embankment.There is a wall made of river rock that forms about a five foot base before the earthen slope begins and rises up to the street above.That street is like a border between my apartments and a quiet residential neighborhood.Parked on the edge of that street, just visible through the trees that overhung most of the parking lot, was a big power company truck.It was running!Hoisting myself, and scrambling up the embankment, I reached the road.Typical for this time of night (it was 3:42 a.m.according to my watch) it was quiet.I sorta turned a slow circle to make sure all was clear.Farther down the road from me something may have moved in the darkness.I wasn’t about to wait and find out.Still, rushing to the truck without at least a little caution could be as fatal as a stroll down this road into the deep, black shadows.I moved out into the middle of the street so as to allow myself the greatest amount of open space, then crept towards the idling vehicle.A large, dark smear marred the driver’s side door.I wondered briefly if it belonged to Ed…or worse…his co-worker.Just as I neared close enough to peer in the open window, a scream unlike anything I’d ever heard—before that night anyway—shattered the relative quiet.That piercing sound seemed to reach inside me and clamp down hard on my bladder.Yeah.I wet my pants.Now I realize that something like that never happens to action heroes.Well, I guaran-damn-tee that he or she never heard a scream like that before.Not for real anyways.It sounded like a woman or a child.I yanked open the truck door deciding it was time to move a little quicker.Thankfully, no surprises leapt out at me, and I slid into the cab.I took quick visual inventory: keys, big flashlight, clipboard, brown paper sack.Great.I popped the column shifter into drive and stomped on the gas pedal while twisting the steering wheel hard left.Making a big U-turn, I raced to the corner and did a bouncy power-slide.Turning sharp left again, I dropped into the entrance of my complex.I veered slightly left clipping a beat up Buick parked in the first tenant’s parking spot.The truck fish-tailed the short length of the lot where an opening in the two-story building on my right indicated the entrance existed to one of two breezeways.Slamming on the brakes, the truck screeched to a halt and banked right just enough to have the nose pointing into the void.I found the knob and pulled, turning on my headlights.The scene in that dark tunnel-like breezeway threatened to cause another upheaval from my stomach.Ed, along with two more of those things were clawing at this short, pudgy, Mexican woman.One of them was tearing out what looked to be a strand of intestine from a gaping hole in her abdomen.Another was jerking back with a chunk of left forearm between its teeth.Ed was on hands and knees chewing away at a thigh.Backing toward the steps was a little girl [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]