Monstra inter, p.1
Monstra Inter, page 1
Monstra Inter
The living, the dead, and the monsters in between.
C. Britt
CBRD Publishing
Copyright © 2023 C. Britt
CBRD Publishing
Webb City, MO
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. To request permissions, contact the publisher at: CBRDPublishing@gmail.com
ISBN (paperback): 979-8-9886143-1-9
ISBN (hardback): 979-8-9886143-2-6
ISBN (ebook): 979-8-9886143-0-2
Library of Congress Control Number: 2023911664
Cover art by Perky Visuals
https://www.runawaydaydreams.com/c-britt
To my husband, who says
this is worthy of a movie deal.
And to whichever brilliant movie executive
who decides to prove my husband right.
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1 - Into Chaos
Chapter 2 - Disbelief
Chapter 3 - Retreat
Chapter 4 - Learn and Adapt
Chapter 5 - Mama
Chapter 6 - Amiss
Chapter 7 - Captive
Chapter 8 - Breaking News
Chapter 9 - Waiting
Chapter 10 - Out of Touch
Chapter 11 - Supplies
Chapter 12 - Searching
Chapter 13 - Got In, Get Out
Chapter 14 - Rumblings
Chapter 15 - The Reflection
Chapter 16 - Priorities
Chapter 17 - On the Hunt
Chapter 18 - Alone
Chapter 19 - Detour
Chapter 20 - Told You
Chapter 21 - Choices
Chapter 22 - Gone
Chapter 23 - Beginning of the End
Chapter 24 - Rigor Mortis
Chapter 25 - Skinned Knee
Chapter 26 - Get Help
Chapter 27 - Finders
Chapter 28 - Sick
Chapter 29 - Rascal
Chapter 30 - Accusations
Chapter 31 - Keepers
Chapter 32 - Trapped
Chapter 33 - End of the End
Note about the following text:
Chapter 33A - End of the End
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter 1 - Into Chaos
- Southeastern Oklahoma -
-- Day 1 --
The quiet crunch of dry grass draws Abigail's attention toward the ground twenty feet below. She hardly dares to breathe. From her perch in the tree stand, she slowly leans forward as her hands rest on the camera in her lap. Her long hair shifts, sliding past her shoulders, momentarily blocking her view of the tall weeds that surround the base of the tree. She swipes the dark, curly locks behind her ears, then freezes with both hands still at the sides of her face. She gasps softly.
She'd been excited, expecting to see another deer. Instead, crouching below her amongst the tall weeds is a man she's never seen before. Abigail's enthusiasm quickly turns to fear. Her heart begins to hammer. She slowly lowers her hands to her lap and waits, silent and unmoving.
Minutes creep by.
The man carefully inches forward again. His eyes are locked on the doe roughly fifty yards in front of him. He stays downwind and moves cautiously; the doe's ears twitch, but the unsuspecting animal continues calmly chewing grass.
Abigail's curiosity is piqued. With one hand, she takes hold of the camera in her lap and lifts the viewfinder to her eye; the other hand slowly twists the lens until it's zoomed in enough for her to see the man a bit more closely. Then, she sits motionless once more, observing the strange scene unfolding below.
He isn't carrying a gun or bow. He isn't wearing the required hunter orange. In fact, he's dressed in what looks like workout attire. She can't help but wonder, Why in the world would he be trying to sneak up on a deer like that?
A chill runs up Abigail's spine. Both fascinated by this man's ability to move so stealthily and disturbed by such strange behavior, Abigail holds her breath and continues staring through the camera. She sits transfixed, trying to make sense of the sight.
Eventually, the man slowly and silently makes his way close to his target. He crouches low a few feet behind the oblivious deer. Only one narrow tree separates the two of them now. Waiting until the unsuspecting doe has its head down to get another bite of grass, the man lunges forward. In the blink of an eye, he grabs the deer and sinks his teeth into its flesh. The doe leaps forward, throwing the assailant to the ground. Blood drips in a thin trail from the man's mouth as he pushes himself back to his feet.
Abigail tenses, ready to flee, but forces herself to stay out of sight. The man takes a second to look around, and as she watches through the camera, Abigail catches a glimpse of his face. His mouth and shirt are drenched in blood, and small bits of the deer's hide hang from his teeth. But most chilling of all are his eyes. They're wide pools of inky black; they're soulless and inhuman. From this distance, they're so dark and bottomless, they look like gaping holes. Abigail shivers.
Turning his back on Abigail, the man casually wanders off, out of the field, into the woods, and disappears.
Abigail lowers the camera, presses one hand against her mouth, and wills her heartbeat to slow down. As she sits there armed with only a digital camera and a small can of mace, she's terrified to leave the relative safety of the tree stand.
After waiting for what feels like an eternity, Abigail sees the sun start to touch the horizon and knows she needs to get out of the woods before nightfall. With trembling, sweaty palms, she places her camera into its bag. She hurriedly descends the ladder. As soon as her feet touch the ground, she holds her breath and listens. Nothing disturbs the silence except for a gentle breeze through the budding treetops. She inhales deeply as she looks around. At last, gathering her nerve, she turns and sprints down the trail. A few minutes later, the terrified Abigail throws herself into her waiting SUV, locks the doors, and speeds off toward home.
--------------
Abigail slides the deadbolt into place and slumps against the door, and a subtle vibration in her jacket pocket catches her attention. She pulls out her phone to see her brother's name displayed on the screen. Quickly pulling her dark hair into a haphazard ponytail, she presses the green button and puts the device to her ear.
"Hey, Jake."
"Abby, where have you been? Are you okay?"
Abigail's brows knit together at the sudden question. Her mind races. He couldn't know about what happened at the tree stand today. Surely I don't still sound that shaken up that he can tell with a two-word greeting either. What's so urgent that he couldn't even say hello first?
"Abby?" Jake cuts into her thoughts. "Are you okay? I've been trying to call you all day!"
"Yeah, Jake, I'm fine." Abigail pulls one arm out of her jacket and shifts the phone to her other ear. She tugs at the other sleeve and hangs the jacket on the hook by the door. Kicking off her shoes, she continues, "Sorry I missed your calls. What's so urgent?"
"Why didn't you answer?!"
Abigail rolls her eyes. "What the hell has gotten into you? I don't answer for one freaking afterno–"
"Look, I'm sorry, Ab. I was... I just got scared, alright? I thought something had..." Jake's words trail away.
"Jake? Are you okay?" Abigail's tone softens at the sudden emotion in her brother's deep voice.
Jake inhales shakily, then exhales slowly. "I've just been worried for you, that's all. I guess this means you haven't seen the news yet today?"
"No. Why?"
"They're reporting that some crazy people are terrorizing the city. No one knows if they're junkies on some new kind of drug or if they're part of some crazy cult or what. Two people were arrested after biting people. At least–"
"What?" Abigail can't help but interrupt. The color drains from her face as she continues. "They were biting people?"
Thinking her outburst was due to incredulity rather than relatability, Jake goes on. "Yeah, biting. It's crazy, I know. They said on the news that at least a dozen people are in the hospital getting stitches, tetanus shots, and rabies vaccines. Sounds like those freaks even got ahold of a couple of pets too." Jake pauses a moment, then chuckles. "Of course, I guess that's why you bought that old house out in the boonies, huh? Surely those weirdos won't bother you out there in the woods, right?"
Abigail's knees threaten to give out from under her. She braces herself against the wall and slides down to sit on the cold floor. Her palms grow slick with sweat.
"Are you still there, Abby? Hello?"
"Y-yeah. I'm here." She swallows hard. "They're here too."
- Southeastern Oklahoma -
-- Day 2 --
"They're being called 'zombies' by many of the area locals. However, they're not zombies like those you've seen in movies: they aren't the resurrected dead, they can run, and they don't appear to be unintelligent. Preliminary reports indicate similar events in a few other cities as well. As events continue to unfold, we'll bring you more information about these so-called 'zombies.'" The news anchorwoman pauses momentarily to give the camera a somber look. "Now over to Nick, reporting to you live from the scene. Nick?"
The image switches to a man with a microphone. His usual on-camera smile is replaced by a more serious look today. "Thanks, Cheryl. We're coming to you live from the s
Abigail shakes her head in exasperation. People are coming down with rabies-like symptoms for unknown reasons and running around biting each other. And the news is busy interviewing some random guy about how he feels!
She stands up and walks away, scoffing. Leaving the TV on, she's only half listening as she begins sweeping the floors, washing dishes, and hoping to find enough busywork to keep herself from going crazy.
A few times throughout the morning, Abigail pauses to try to make phone calls to her parents and friends. The cell towers are overloaded, though, and the calls aren't going through. At one point, she stands there, tapping her foot against the linoleum, wishing she'd kept that old landline phone.
After running out of things to clean, Abigail plops back down in front of the TV and switches to a different channel.
"Preliminary reports now indicate that this zombie plague may not be as localized as previously thought. It appears to be happening in multiple cities throughout the country. In light of this, the governor has just declared a state of emergency for the region. All public transportation services are being suspended. This includes buses, passenger trains, taxis, and any other similar services. Flights will not be allowed to take off from or land in the affected areas. Residents are encouraged to stay in their homes until further notice.
"We'll bring you more inf–"
Abigail's heart sinks, and she turns the TV off. She's realized that since the airports are closed, Jake can't make it there tonight. Leaning back in her chair, she pinches the bridge of her nose. Suddenly, she slams her palms against the arms of the chair. "No!" No one is around to hear Abigail's complaint, but she can't help making it anyway.
Abigail stands up and paces through the kitchen, trying to figure out how to get in touch with Jake – or Mom, or anyone – when her phone chimes.
Of course email still works! Why didn't I think of that sooner?
She pulls the phone out of her hoodie pocket and unlocks the screen. "Hey Abby, flight just got canceled. I'm gonna start driving. See you tomorrow, stay safe. Love you. -- Jake"
Abigail taps reply. "Love you too. Be careful on the road. You heard from mom or dad?"
A few more taps as she hits send and then starts a new email to her mom. "Are you and dad safe? I can't make any outgoing calls. Call me if you can or write back. Please, I need to know if you two are okay. I'm alright, and Jake is on his way here now. I'll write again when he's made it. Love you both."
As soon as the second email is sent, Abigail leans her elbows on the countertop and rests her forehead against her palms. She barely slept a wink last night. And she's certain she can't handle another night alone, jumping at every little sound. She doesn't want to leave and miss Jake and wouldn't know where to go even if she did go. But even more than that, she doesn't want to run into one of those things – she can't quite bring herself to call them "zombies" yet – while she's out on the road, weaponless and alone.
She presses her thumbs to her temples and begins to massage as she mulls over her limited options.
A shower would be great right about now. Abigail knows she could use one after all the climbing into and out of the tree stand yesterday, then sprinting off through the woods. Besides, the soothing massage from the warm, falling water always helps her think. But she's terrified; what if while she's alone and vulnerable, shielded only by the thin, plastic shower curtain, one of those psychos finds their way inside? She quickly abandons the idea.
Standing abruptly, Abigail grabs the laundry basket and dumps the contents onto the floor. Then, she carries it around the house, gathering things: a flashlight, phone charger, pillow, a few blankets, an aluminum baseball bat, and the ingredients for PB&J sandwiches. She starts to head to the far end of the house but then stops in her tracks, grimacing as a thought occurs to her. Heading into the bathroom, she grabs the small trash can and a roll of toilet paper to add to her basket.
At last, she makes her way to the far end of the house. Setting the laundry basket down, Abigail yanks on the string hanging from the ceiling. With a loud squeaking groan of old springs and a light sprinkling of dust raining down, the overhead door drops open, and the attic stairs unfold in front of her. She picks up the basket and hurries up the steep steps.
Grabbing the old cot from the far corner, Abigail unfolds it and sets the laundry basket on top. Then she returns to the main floor and starts digging through the kitchen junk drawer. She finds a thick piece of cotton cord and takes it to the attic steps. She ties a knot around one of the wooden planks, returns to the attic, and gives the line a hard tug. The steps begrudgingly lift upward and refold into their closed position. Finally, she takes a couple chunks of plywood and jams them under each side of the ladder. Abigail presses lightly with her foot. The ladder doesn't budge, and she nods in satisfaction. Now, if anyone tries to open it from below, the plywood will catch against the attic floor, locking the ladder in place.
Relaxing ever-so-slightly now that Abigail feels somewhat secure, last night's sleeplessness begins to catch up to her.
- Southeastern Oklahoma -
-- Day 3 --
Abigail's phone chimes loudly and drags her from a fitful sleep. She pushes herself upright on the cot, blinking in the dim, early morning light. It takes some time for her to remember where she is, but her vision finally comes into focus.
Then, so do her memories of the previous day.
Running the heel of her palm across her closed eyelids, Abigail yawns. With the other hand, she forces her tangled mess of hair away from her face. Grabbing one of the blankets, she wraps it around her shoulders to ward off the slight springtime chill in the poorly insulated attic. She reaches for her phone but then pauses, listening intently for any sounds of movement downstairs. All is quiet.
Then just for good measure, Abigail stands up and creeps over to the small, round window. She peaks out, but the light is still too faint to see much on the ground other than vague shadows.
At last, reasonably confident that she's still alone and safe, she grabs her phone and brings up the email that had woken her up. "Have you talked to Mom & Dad? I can't reach them. I drove about 5 hours last night before I decided to check into a hotel. I'll leave in a few minutes. Be there this afternoon. -- Jake"
Abigail sends a quick reply to let him know she's safe and that she hasn't been able to reach their parents either. She swipes the email app off the screen and opens a browser window. A few taps later, a live news broadcast appears, and she sinks back onto the cot to watch.
"...that this sudden rabies-like behavior is more widespread than we had believed only just yesterday. Sightings have been confirmed in multiple cities throughout the western hemisphere. Authorities now also believe that the first presentations of these symptoms appeared in Central or South America sometime within the past week. The exact cause is not known at this time. Current theories include a new rabies variant, a previously unknown fungus, or possibly even some kind of biological weapon.
"The White House has declined to comment, other than to assure the public that scientists are working around the clock to find a cure for this illness. Additionally, they are requesting that the public remain in their homes as much as possible to prevent further spread.
"Now, over to Chuck as he brings us updates from the traffic watch helicopter."
The view on the screen changes abruptly from the anchor desk to a live, aerial view of a crowded downtown street.
"Thanks, May. As you can see, the city streets are quickly turning chaotic. Protestors have come out in droves, demanding answers about what exactly these 'zombies' are. Many of the protestors even carry signs hinting about conspiracies and bioweapons. In response, local police forces have been dispatched to keep things under control. There aren't enough officers to manage crowd control though, which means rioting and looting has alre– "
