February, 1999
"Road Kill"
An electronic serial.
We rounded another corner, went up one more steep incline and finally came to a long stretch of road that was level. The headlights poked their way eerily through a slight fog hovering a few feet off the surface of the road. The moon was out in full force illuminating all. The trees cast weird distorted shadows through the thin layer of fog upon the road. A short distance ahead, movement could be seen.
As we gradually moved closer we could discern several figures moving in an odd, orderly fashion. The spectacle taking place in the little clearing beside the road was like a scene from the Twilight Zone. I slowed the vehicle, killed the lights and hoped that we hadn't been discovered.
Off to the right, sixteen men could be seen running in a circle. Each man looked exactly like the others. They were all adorned in yellow shorts complemented with matching striped shirts. Each head was topped with a nice little cap. They were all the same height with plump middles. They reminded me of eight Tweedle-Dees and Tweedle-Dums.
We watched this strange ritual for a short time before we were finally noticed by our Alice-In-Wonderland hosts. They suddenly stopped running in a circle and neatly split off into two groups of eight, scampering up the road a short distance in front of us. One group of eight was on one side of the road while the other group of eight was exactly opposite them. They all turned in unison and stuck their thumbs out as if the trying to hitch a ride.
At this time, my wife looked at me with a worried look on her face and I turned the headlights back on and drove in a slow deliberate manner past the mysterious men. They stood stark against the night, unmoving, with wry grins set firmly upon their faces. Each grin was accented with rows of needle-like teeth. Their eyes never moved but looked straight ahead as if fixed on some spot in space. I noticed that each of their shirts had crimson stains.
We both breathed a sigh of relief as we left the strange scene behind us. A few moments later we passed several cars parked in a jumbled manner off the side of the road. We talked excitedly for the next forty-five minutes about the strange encounter, eventually arriving at the vacation resort where we had reservations. We checked in and went to bed, melting into the mattress and quickly falling asleep.
After casually getting out of bed and dressing the next morning, we went down into the dining room for an old-fashioned New England breakfast. Seated at a wooden table covered with a white lace table cloth, we feasted upon farm fresh eggs, homemade thickly-sliced bacon, home fries, fresh-baked blueberry muffins, baked beans, and slightly-chilled apple cider. We continued to talk about the events of the past evening, coming to the conclusion that we must have stumbled upon some sort of initiation.
As my wife headed for the rest room, a caravan of police and rescue vehicles passed by with sirens wailing. A few seconds later, a man rushed in and talked frantically to another man sitting close by. I overheard the man state that some bodies had been found. The bodies had been half-eaten and scattered about. The teeth marks found on the bodies gave the impression of rows of needle-like teeth. The victims' cars had also been found parked together off the side of the road a short distance from the bodies. It appeared as though the people had been pulled from their vehicles and their the cars parked where the next carload of victims wouldn't see them.
My wife finally came out from the rest room and asked me what all the commotion was about. I simply told her that someone had hit a cow that had wandered into the road .
"All of that for a cow?" she said.
"Well, Mcallister, probably the people that hit it got injured, too. She agreed.
We finished our breakfast. I topped my meal off with a cup of rich, hot chocolate and my wife had tea. Every few minutes another vehicle would scream past the resort and my wife would look over at me with a raised eyebrow, followed by a questioning expression on her face. I, of course, would just tilt my head slightly and shrug my shoulders as if I had no idea why there was still a lot of activity.
Later that day, while returning from exploring an old mine and then the largest cave in New England, we were both looking forward to a nice, quiet dinner and a relaxing evening. As we were driving along, enjoying the countryside, I could picture the two of us back at the resort, spread out before a warm cozy fire, with glasses of Bailey's Irish Cream in our hands, enjoying each other's company. The radio would be on, the volume low, with the dial set to some easy-listening station.
I returned from my daydream and decided I should share my thoughts with Mcallister. "Hon, I think I'm going to order the prime rib tonight."
"Mmm, that sounds good. I've been thinking about the broiled haddock."
"Great! You'll have to let me try some. You know, I packed us a nice bottle of Bailey's and I was thinking we could build ourselves a romantic fire."
"Sweety, you're too good to me." Then suddenly, she said "Look!" pointing her finger toward my window. I turned and and my heart jumped up into my throat. Out in a small field, not very far from the road, were the sixteen Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum guys running around in a circle. An instant replay of the previous night, except at dusk, and we could see them well. I feared that they could see us just as well.
"Let's stop and ask them what they're doing," Mcallister said mischievously. I snapped my head around and looked at her with obvious fear in my eyes.
"What's wrong, Sweety?" Then instantly as if a switch had been thrown her expression changed to a combination of fear and anger. "No cow was hit last night!" she exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me? I can't believe you didn't tell the truth! So, what happened?"
I received her patented glare that weakens me like Kryptonite weakens Superman. I answered with my own patented shrugging of the shoulders and added, "I don't know exactly, but I overheard someone say that there had been some deaths. Grisly, half-eaten bodies. And I got the idea that those guys in the field may have been responsible. Remember all the cars off to the side of the road? Well, those were the cars of the people who were killed. It appears they were pulled from their vehicles."
"Oh God, that's terrible," she said in low, mournful tone.
As I looked back over to the the Alice-In-Wonderland freaks, I noticed although the men were still running in a perfect circle, the circle had gotten much closer to the vehicle, which had slowed quite a bit since I had taken my foot off the gas. I popped the clutch and the car gave a low groan, jerked forward a couple of times and then, to my horror, stalled.
The men surrounded the car in an instant and although it happened quickly, it was done in a smooth, orderly manner giving the illusion of seeing it happen in slow motion. They continued to run around the car, steadily increasing their pace. In no time at all they were traveling at a dizzying speed. I was quickly mesmerized by the yellow of their shorts and the stripes from their shirts blurring past us. Faster and faster.
I noticed Mcallister was starting to breathe faster and heavier, her eyes staring straight ahead. I myself felt a strange, overpowering urge to do nothing. Finally, fear crept past the urge to do nothing and forced me to react. I quickly shifted into first and then turned the key. The car sprang to life and instantly the men broke into the familiar two rows of eight on either side of the road, with thumbs out.
The car leaped forward like a cheetah after prey and I couldn't resist looking out my window at the Tweedles on my side of the road. Their mouths were slightly open forming a hideous grin which displayed pointed teeth. The mouth of a piranha that I had seen once on the Discovery Channel popped into my head. As the car pulled away I looked in the rear view mirror at the Tweedles, they had not moved and didn't move at all. Finally, they were lost from sight after rounding the first bend in the road.
"Mcallister, are you all right?" I looked over at her for the first time since our prior conversation.
"Hon, you ok?" My lovely partner just looked straight ahead.
"Oh shit", I said, as I stepped on the gas and shifted into the next gear. "Hon?"
I reached over and lightly shook Mcallister. Nothing but a blank stare. Fear once again had joined me on this fine day. My heart was racing as fast as I was driving the car. The wheels of the car were squealing around every curve. What in the Hell had happened? I kept looking over at my wife who hadn't moved or made a sound since we were surrounded by the Tweedles. Minutes flew by. We had just passed the sign announcing the resort was two miles ahead, when I heard a sigh.
"Ohhh! Where are we?"
"Hon, you okay? You all right?"
"Yeah. I guess so. What's going on? Where are we? My head's killing me..."
"What do you mean, 'Where are we?' You don't remember?"
"I think I do, I'm just disoriented. I'm not sure why you're driving so fast. I remember watching those weird men again and the next thing I know we're speeding down the road."
"You had me scared! You were in a trance or something and you didn't say a word for quite a while."
"Really? I don't remember."
We pulled into the resort and parked the car. Once inside our room I decided to leave Mcallister there to rest and hopefully to get rid of her headache. She took some aspirin and lay down. I told her I was going down to the front desk to report what had happened. Mcallister said she would be fine there by herself and that she might try to take a short nap.
At the front desk I was greeted by a pleasant young woman. She was slight of build with long, dark hair that draped itself about her like a shawl. Her lips were full and, although she was pretty, it appeared that she wore no make-up to accent her beautiful features. She smiled as I approached, displaying bright, white teeth.... I noticed they looked pointed.
"Hello, sir, what can we do for you today?" The words rolled off her tongue like the sweetest of honey and for the briefest of moments I lost the urgency and importance of what I wanted to say. I wanted to quickly reply but, oddly, I was feeling somewhat at a loss for words.
"Well, I, uh . . . I wanted to report something. Something that my wife and I saw the other night, and we saw again today while we were out." I quickly regained my composure and rattled on. "It was really weird and I think it may have something to do with the deaths that occurred last night. We were . . ."
"Oh, I know, wasn't that a terrible accident. It certainly kept folks busy around here today," she said, raising an eyebrow while interrupting me in the nicest way. She continued to smile at me, which made me feel like she was flirting with me. I shrugged this off and finally the meaning of her words made their way to that gray matter called a brain. Accident? "She said, 'accident,' didn't she?" I thought to myself.
"What do you mean, 'accident'?" I answered back, and then continued. "I overheard someone this morning say there had been some murders." I looked at her in a quizzical way. She laughed merrily, tilting her head ever so slightly which caused some of her hair to cascade off her shoulder in the most delicious manner.
"Oh, the tourists that visit always imagine some of the wildest things during their stays. It's really quite amusing. They provide us with some great stories." She paused to reassure eye contact, reached out and placed her hand gently on my forearm, and then continued. "No offense. I don't feel you're the typical tourist."
"Is that right?" I replied. "Well then, tell me about this accident?" She shifted her stance and looked into my eyes, once again making me feel as if she was engaging in mental foreplay. This was making me feel quite uneasy because I am deeply in love with my wife of seventeen years, and in all that time I had never had the urge to look at another woman in a sexual way or feel sexually attracted to any other. We have the rare, loving partnership that few are lucky to have. Now, this other woman was standing before me somehow raising these feelings inside me. It just wasn't natural, I felt. Her voice slithered into my mind.
"Unfortunately, some of our guest were involved in a fatal two-car accident. No one survived. We have already forwarded their personal belongings to their families. Their bodies have been taken to Huntsville, which I assume you know is about three hours away from here and is the closest town to our fine resort. That's why I especially like working here: the solitude and the peacefulness that comes from being in the country."
I could have sworn she cooed the last part at me. It was very strange that she could go so nonchalantly from talking about a horrible accident to telling me why she likes it here so much. It wasn't making any sense, either, with the differences between her explanation of events and what I had overheard this morning.
"I heard the people had been attacked." I spoke with concern and defiance.
"Ghastly, wasn't it? It's too bad someone hadn't discovered the bodies before the animals got to them. But, this is the wilderness, you know."
She said this while slowly removing the hair that was resting on one of her ample breasts and casually tossing the strands behind her. The cleavage between her breasts was plentiful, providing me with a pleasing view. The skin looked so soft and smooth and inviting.
"My name is Larza," she said, while extending a hand forward in friendship. I brought my eyes up from her breasts.
"I'm Boyd," I said, and took her hand in mine for a firm but gentle handshake that lingered on for a few seconds too long. She continued to smile and gaze into my eyes.
"We should talk more, later," she remarked, her eyes sparkling and her smile beckoning. I can't resist taking one more look at her cleavage. Then suddenly, I return to my senses and stop acting like a young adolescent who has never seen a woman before. I lift my gaze from her breasts and meet her eyes with confidence.
"Well, I'm sure that both my wife and I will see you here at the front desk during our stay," I said, using 'my wife' like a shield to stop the direction the conversation is heading. "It's been nice talking to you, Larza."
A quick look of disbelief crossed her face, and just as quickly, it disappeared, replaced with the same friendly, personal look. I'm sure she was surprised that I abruptly ended her come-ons.
"Oh, by the way, are they any groups or clubs that have initiations or meetings around here? We've seen this strange group of chubby men, both last night and today. We saw them about ten miles from here on the back road. It was really weird. They were all dressed alike, running in a circle. My wife was actually put into some sort of trance by them today when they ran around our car."
At that moment a strange look came about Larza. Her whole mood changed to one of seriousness and concern. She suddenly didn't look quite the same. She said mysteriously, "I thought you were remarkable, Boyd, now I truly know that you are. I must get back to work now. I WILL see you again."
"Well, I just wanted to have you phone the authorities about what we saw out there."
"Come on, Boyd, what do you think you saw out there? Now you sound like a tourist. That's a wild story you just told. It's hard to believe. I'll put a call through, later, to the sheriff in Huntsville. He doesn't like to be bothered unless it's an emergency. As far as your wife's trance, I'm sure she was just overcome by simple fatigue."
Larza flashed a smile at me, displaying pointed teeth. Funny that her teeth didn't seem to be as pointed while we were talking before. Then she quickly excused herself saying that she had a lot of work to do. Where all this work suddenly came from puzzled me, and I quickly figured out that I had been dismissed and the conversation had ended. She never did answer the question about the Tweedles and I also realized that whatever intoxicating spell I was under had also been broken. I actually felt as if I was bewitched. I looked over at Larza as I turned to go back to my room and caught a quick, icy, menacing glance from her as she disappeared through a door behind the front desk.
* * * *
"I'm really beginning to not like this place. So much for telling the authorities. Damn! I wasn't too successful with that, was I?" I scolded myself, as I went down the corridor and passed one of the exits. I decided to take a little walk before returning to Mcallister, so I turned around and went through the exit to the parking lot. A large truck was parked in the center of the lot. It looked like a moving van and had the name of the resort painted on the side accompanied by a nice painting of the countryside. I couldn't help but notice that the back of the van was open and that there were several resort workers loading it with suitcases. The workers were appearing from three different entrances of the building, lumbering to the truck and dropping off their load. I decided to casually walk in the direction of the truck. As I approached, I couldn't help but notice that the workers looked alike. In fact, they looked like a cross between Larza and the Tweedles. They all had Larza's same dark eyes and sharp set features, along with the Tweedles' chubby bellies and matching clothes. They were all dressed alike in green overalls with dark brown work boots clutching their feet. Plus, they seemed to be working in unison even though they were not working together. As I arrived at the truck, I confirmed to myself that they did indeed look much like Larza. Could this coincidence of similarities be due to some regional genetics or cultural influence? I have noticed before, in the past, while we were visiting other countries, that people of a certain region tend to look alike, dress alike, even act alike.
They didn't appear to notice me at all until I spoke. "Hi, guys. Having a luggage sale?"
They all turned, looked and smiled. Of course they're teeth were pointed. "Howdy, how ya' doin'?" a taller, thinner version of the working men shouted from across the parking the lot. He headed in my direction and the others returned to their work, once again ignoring my presence.
"Not bad," I said as I turned in the thinner man's direction. He quickly crossed the parking lot in a few strides and extended a hand in greeting.
"There was a bad accident yesterday and we're bringing the people's luggage to the authorities in Huntsville, so their relatives can claim it. Horrible thing to have happen. Did you hear about it?"
"I sure did," I answered as I shook his hand. "Gee, it seems like an awful lot of luggage for a few people, doesn't it?"
"Well we're also are delivering luggage to people who vacation here from Huntsville. It's a service we provide to our good neighbors."
"Oh," I replied for lack of anything else to say. He looked at me with dark eyes and, yes, he too looked very much like Larza. Much more so than the other chubbier resort workmen. "Hey, um, I was talking to Larza, the girl who works at the front desk, and I couldn't help but notice you look a lot like her. Are you two related or something?" I couldn't resist asking.
"You talked to Larza?" He peered at me with a slight look of disbelief on his face.
"Yeah, I did. Why? Is that a hard to believe or something? She does work at the front desk."
"No, she ah... she's very busy is all," he replied and added, "She can be very hard to get away from once she starts talking. We're distant cousins. Most of us here are related in one way or another you could say."
"Well, it certainly shows." As I said that, I caught a quick glance of Larza passing one of the exits in the building, accompanied by a man, his hand holding hers. "Speak of the devil, there she goes," I said, and pointed towards the door.
"Yes, she's a very busy woman. And you, my friend, must be a remarkable man. Please excuse me for I must check on some things now."
"Ok, have a nice day." I watched him walk away and disappear through one of the entrances of the building. Casually, I glanced about the parking lot and then looked up at the breathtaking view of the mountains in all directions. The sun had begun to dip down below the tops of the mountains, casting long shadows that reached across the parking lot. I breathed in deeply to fill my lungs with the fresh air. I exhaled slow and deliberately and left the workmen to their task of loading the luggage as I walked back into the resort and turned down a hallway which would lead me back to my room.
* * * *
Hal Benfield couldn't believe what was happening. He was almost giggling to himself with excitement. "This girl must be the easiest girl around here," he thought to himself. His memory jogged itself back to his college days when he had his share of young girls that were all too willing to be a man's plaything for an evening. Even though over the years he had entertained a lustful thought or two towards a fellow young female co-worker, he never did believe they would want him, a married, boring, middle-aged man. But it was still fun to imagine some of those young beauties in compromising positions for his enjoyment and theirs.
Not that he didn't love his wife. After all, they were still married. They had never had affairs, they still did some things together, and he felt that they didn't fight any more than the other couples he knew. And every once in while they had sex together. The sex was nothing like when they were younger. In fact, now the sex had gotten to be quite mechanical and predictable. He wasn't even sure when his wife last had an orgasm. She seemed sedately happy to be a participant in the activity which didn't take any time at all to be over. Hal, again, figured this wasn't bad compared to what other husbands were telling him. Some of them hadn't had sex in years, with their wives, that is.
So, Hal was an average guy, living the average guy's life. Until now. His wife was back in the room, her overweight, unexercised body spread out over the bed watching TV. And Hal was being led to an unoccupied room in the resort by the most beautiful, black-haired woman with the most alluring eyes he had ever seen. He felt somewhat out of control by the way he was drawn to her. Her look, her voice, her perfectly shaped breasts, all beckoned him. She hadn't seemed to mind at all that he had been staring at her breasts when they talked. In fact it appeared that she wanted him to look, especially when she shifted them and made them even easier to view. Her eyes were incredible - she looked at him with such a lingering, longing look. It was a like a dream when she gently took his hand and said "follow me." Hal didn't even think twice about it. He hadn't felt this aroused in years and didn't think about anything except "I can't believe this is happening to me."
They came to the room, Larza opened the door and they both stepped inside. Hal was shaking with excitement and anticipation. "Okay, Hal, are you ready for the time of your life?" Larza cooed at him. Hal feebly replied. "You bet I am."
Larza led Hal to the bed and pushed him back onto it. His big pot-belly stomach jiggled slightly and drooped down and applied pressure to his belt. Larza quickly undid his belt and deftly removed his pants. His skinny, pale, white legs looked odd attached to his large upper half. Larza positioned herself on top of Hal, then she removed her top and bra, exposing her firm, perfectly-formed breasts. Hal reached up, and Larza grabbed his wrists, holding them above his head while she lowered her breasts on his face. He eagerly took a nipple in his mouth and never noticed his wrists being secured in the leather straps that were attached to the bedposts.
Hal's scream was abruptly cut off because his voice box had been ripped open. The last thing he saw was Larza's perfect breasts covered with his own blood.
* * * *
I returned to the room and went in. Mcallister wasn't awake so I lay down on the bed beside her, grabbed the remote control and turned the television on. I channel surfed like a madman. After several minutes and several laps through the channels, I finally stopped to watch an old black-and-white movie, an Alfred Hitchcock-produced work of art.
I started to contemplate what had transpired today. Several unbelievable events had occurred that were as weird and unusual as any "Outer Limits" episode. I just didn't feel right about this place. What was going on?
Mcallister stirred slightly. She was looking as beautiful as ever, and I thought to myself, "Everything will be all right, we just have to get away from this place."
Mcallister stirred again. I looked over at her again. She rolled to one side and opened her eyes, smiling affectionately at me, "Hi, sweety. Back already?"
"Yeah, Hon. How was your nap? Did you sleep well?"
"Mmm, yup. I feel great!" She spoke with a sparkle in her eye as she pulled two pillows behind her shoulders and listened intently as I recounted all that had transpired while she napped.
"Wow, Hon, what do you want to do?" she said, pulling the blanket up higher around herself.
"Well, I think we ought to stay here tonight, have a nice meal, get a good night's rest, wake up tomorrow morning and get the hell out of here. This place gives me the creeps, big time."
"That sounds okay with me. I'm going to take quick shower and put on a nice dress."
"I'm right in there with ya, Hon."
We took showers and dressed for dinner. I wore my black slacks and dark green silk shirt. I topped it off with a silk, multicolored tie with a gold clasp that managed to look tasteful. Mcallister put on her black dress with the slight V-cut in the front, and black high heels and nylon stockings completed the ensemble. Her gold hoop earrings elegantly drifted off her ears. Her hair hung low, off her shoulders, just as I always liked it.
We left our room and made our way to the dining room.We could hear a loud voice as we approached. We could tell that the person who owned this voice was very excited, but not in the happy sense.
"I want to know what you intend to do," a woman with an aqua pant suit that fit a little too tightly, accenting the bulge in her midsection, screamed at Larza. The woman's grey hair hung thickly off her head, barely touching her shoulders. Her eyes were wild with anger.
"He's been missing since late this afternoon," the woman said, shaking her finger up at the clock.
Larza, looked at her with disdain, and then her eyes swung up and locked themselves onto mine. I looked away, giving Mcallister's hand an affectionate squeeze. I knew Larza's eyes were still on me as we walked away. The woman's voice continued on as we entered the dining room.
We were greeted by a pleasant man dressed nicely who showed us to our table. The man could have been Larza's father, by the way he looked. We sat down at the table and ordered ourselves some drinks. I ordered a Manhattan and Mcallister ordered a Kahluha Sombrero. We enjoyed the homemade rolls and noticed that there weren't as many people dining this evening as there had been at breakfast. We assumed that there must have been a lot of guests checking out today. After all, I had seen plenty of luggage being loaded into the van.
We ordered our meals. Mcallister chose the 14-ounce prime rib and I had the duck. Soup came first before the main course. It was excellent. My mouth watered on every spoonful of the rich, creamy mushroom soup. Mcallister's potato soup was just as scrumptious. Salads came next. Just the basic garden salad, but the dressing certainly made it special with its fresh herbs and spices mixed elegantly in a creamy garlic-laced ranch dressing. On top, grated Parmesan cheese was sprinkled about. We talked more about today's and last night's bizarre events, confirming once again that we would be leaving in the morning. It was a shame to leave such a beautiful place. However, too much had happened and that didn't set right with us. I sipped my Manhattan and listened attentively to Mcallister. The main course came and the heavenly aroma of our meals made us that much more hungry. Mcallister's prime rib looked divine. The duck was cooked to perfection, the meat was very tender and succulent. We shared our meals so we could sample each others fine selection. We each had wild rice with herbs and steamed asparagus. The asparagus was exquisite, fresh, and cooked flawlessly.
As we waited for dessert, a woman near us had inquired to the waiter on the whereabouts of her husband. He had excused himself to the rest room and hadn't returned. We couldn't quite hear what the waiter had to say, but by the way he shrugged his shoulders we guessed that he didn't have an answer. The woman waited for a while and eventually left.
Our desserts arrived. I had the chocolate mousse and Mcallister had a strawberry tart. This was certainly one of the best meals we ever had. Mcallister excused herself from the table to go to the rest room. I ordered us each another drink, sipped on the one I currently had, and patiently waited.
After a few minutes, the drinks arrived and the waiter took our empty glasses away. I took a drink and casually glanced about the room. I thought to myself how elegant the dining room looked. I could feel the alcohol start to take effect on my body, which caused me to smile foolishly at the pleasant feeling of the slight intoxication. I looked at Mcallister's full glass and realized that it had been taking her some time. Fear crept into me, and then panic. "Mcallister hasn't returned!" I jumped up from the table and the chair fell over as I bolted out of the room. I ran down the hall and into the lobby.
"Where the hell is she?" I yelled at Larza.
Larza looked at me contemplatively, then said, "What are you talking about?"
"You know what the hell I'm talking about! I want my wife back! You people have done something with her."
"Boyd, you are telling another one of your hard-to-believe stories again. Maybe your wife has just gone for a walk. Have you checked your room? Maybe she's there waiting for you."
"No, she's gone! I know she's gone just like the other people's partners have disappeared!" I yelled with rage. My eyes were locked on Larza's.
"Boyd, calm down", Larza said quietly. "Here, now. Come with me and we'll have a look." Larza slowly came out from behind the counter in a slinky, seductive manner. She started to slowly reach for my hand when I came to my senses. "No," I yelled, as I pulled my arm back and retreated from her. "Leave me the hell alone!"
I backed away from her, looking around liked a frightened animal. I was a frightened animal; I turned and ran. Larza yelled after me. I didn't stop or look back, completely immersed in fear. A knot had risen in my throat, tears welled up in my eyes. "Oh God, Mcallister is gone!" I thought to myself as I ran around a sharp corner and headed straight to our room.
I arrived at our room and fumbled with the plastic key card while trying to slide it into the slot. I flung open the door.
Mcallister was sitting on the bed.
"Mcallister!" I rushed over to her. She didn't respond. I didn't care, my worst fear was over. My Mcallister was alive.
"Mcallister!" I rushed over to her. Her eyes had a strange glaze about them, that same blank stare on her face as she had during our encounter with the Tweedles. I took her by the hand and gently pulled her up from the bed. She followed somewhat stumbling as I pulled her toward the door.
As I stood at the door with Mcallister, I looked back and scanned the room to make sure I wasn't leaving anything of value. I grabbed Mcallister's pocket book sitting in a chair and checked my pockets for keys and wallet. I didn't even bother with our luggage. I didn't want to waste any time getting out of there. I poked my head out the door and looked in both directions down the corridor. I didn't see anybody, so I gently pulled Mcallister out into the hallway.
"What's going on?" Mcallister asked suddenly. I snapped my head around and looked at her. "Wow! Hon, you were in another trance like before when we had seen those Tweedle guys," I said. "It's great having you back! We're leaving right now!"
"All I remember is walking to the ladies' rest room and the woman at the front desk started talking to me. I don't remember anything else."
"Well, Hon, all I care about is that you're all right. Somehow, you ended up down here at our room. We can talk more, once we get to the car. Let's go!" Again I took her by the hand and quickened the pace as we continued down the hallway.
* * * *
Larza was talking to the thin man, the same thin man who earlier in the day had been loading the luggage into the truck.
"What should we do? I thought we had his wife." The thin man looked accusingly at Larza.
"We did. But he figured it out before I could finish her. He's a strong one, that Boyd. I never met any other humans that I couldn't control. He's dangerous. We need to get the Vongers here to take care of him and his wife." Larza hissed.
The thin man's eyes widened as he wiped his brow in a the same manner that he had done thousands of times before. Once again, he had no idea that he had done it. "But we can't trust the Vongers here. They're safer up on the road stopping the humans in their cars. We still have people here at the resort that we haven't been able to get to, yet."
"I know, but Boyd can't be controlled easily. You know we can't transform and consume them until they're controlled."
The thin man gestured with his hands wildly as he spoke. "Yeah, but the Vongers, they really stick out and they might decide to go through the whole resort. The people would probably panic, and some may escape. We can't afford to have any escape, especially once they've seen too much, especially if they saw the Vongers feed and forage."
Larza couldn't help but see that he made sense, but there was more here to be concerned with. Finally, after a brief few seconds Larza spoke. "I understand the jeopardy. We need to take care of Boyd and his wife right now!"
Larza and the thin man went down the hallway. They passed a room where three cleaners were busy working. A plastic bag was being carried out containing the body of another woman who's husband had been missing. The woman was about to become a useful product just like her husband had become.
* * * *
Mcallister let go of my hand and the quick walk turned into a run. I followed her as she turned toward an exit leading out of this hellish place and stiff-armed the door open. I was right on her heels as we crossed the parking lot to our awaiting car. I turned the key and the car came to life. I popped the clutch and heard the tires squeal.
* * * *
Larza and the thin man burst into the empty room. Only luggage and a turned-down bed greeted them. Larza frowned as she looked around the room. Out the window, she noticed two people as they ran across the parking lot and got into a car. She let out an inhuman cry as she bolted toward the plate glass and jumped through it. The glass exploded and blood gushed from several deep gashes, but she still managed to land on one leg, in full stride, running at the car that was beginning to pull away. Her human form was now transposing, since she needed the strength that her natural body possessed.
The thin man quickly followed Larza's lead and went out the window. He managed to get through the window with much less blood leaving his body than had Larza, especially since she had so thoroughly cleared the way. Ahead of him, he could see Larza's powerful strides bring her closer and closer to the car accelerating across the parking lot.
Larza was within twenty feet of the speeding car when she knew she had to act now, before the car reached the road. She leaped, and as she flew momentarily toward the vehicle she straightened out her body to land onto the car with her arms outstretched and her legs bent in a crouch to absorb the shock of the landing.
* * * *
Bam! The whole car bounced as something landed on it with considerable force. Mcallister turned, and I looked in the rear view mirror. She let out a gasp as I saw the same hideous beast that she must have seen. I slammed on the brakes and we felt two more thuds. The momentum had sent the creature careening forward off the rear window, up and over onto the hood where it bounced one more time and landed in front of the vehicle. As the creature tumbled in front of the car, I popped the clutch once again and proceeded to speed toward it. At the same instant the creature had stopped itself from tumbling and turned in a cat-like stance, ready for another pounce. It made a desperate attempt at getting out of the way of the car but to no avail. A sickening crunch of metal hitting flesh and bone could be heard. The creature was knocked backwards, its body sliding along the pavement leaving bits of flesh behind. I didn't wait to see if it was going to right itself again. Without any hesitation, I drove over it. We could feel it hit the floor boards beneath us. I looked in the rear-view mirror and saw it roll a few times and come to a stop.
* * * *
The thin man had also transformed from his human form into a thin creature. Lacking the size and strength of Larza, he was doing his best to keep pace. He watched in horror as Larza came to her bloody demise. He stopped and picked her up from the ground, holding her lifeless body in his arms as he watched the car speed away.
* * * *
Several days later, Mcallister and I were hanging out relaxing at our home. The mail had arrived and we were poring through it. Smash! The glass of orange juice that Mcallister had been drinking crashed to the floor. I looked up at her from my chair and she had a frightened look about her. Without a word, she handed me something that looked like a postcard. It was a follow-up card from the resort. It said, "We enjoyed your visit! We hope you enjoyed your stay with us. We're looking forward to seeing you again, SOON!".
© 1998-99 William Cooper.
All rights reserved.
William Cooper is a test programmer at Fairchild Semiconductor in South Portland, Maine, who also writes fiction and music. "Road Kill" was written especially for "reality x" as an ongoing electronic serial.