Judgment Day: Part 24
He stood there in a rain, chilled in the early spring air, blood and green slime and death rushing around his feet. His stomach felt as if it were plunging towards the ground from some great height, his throat went dry and he tried to move away, but the two creatures held him in an iron grip.
“What of the agreement?” the young woman asked.
Daryl worked his mouth, shook his head. Agreement?
“He has killed.” The man from the police car said “He has killed one of the Evolved.”
“Then he must be killed.” The woman replied.
“There is still the agreement,” the cop said, somewhat desperately. There was some sort of power struggle going on here.
“What are you?” Daryl asked, surprised he could speak clearly.
The woman looked surprised. “We are…” she cocked her head as if listening to something. “We are Evolution.”
“I haven’t heard your CD’s, you’re not one of those folk bands are you?”
The woman tilted her head again, a confused look on her face.
“Shut up!” the man from the police car screamed, somewhat hysterically. He stood, but kept his distance from the monsters. “You have no idea what you’ve just done! You have broken the agreement.”
“What the fuck…” Daryl shook his head.
“We can take his woman,” the monster said, her voice pouting. “Yes, we’ll take her.” She moved a few steps closer, an arm’s length from Daryl, then leaned forward, wild eyed, and hissed between her teeth, “Molly.”
“You leave her!” Daryl screamed.
One of the creatures holding Daryl let go and drifted towards the van as if he were walking a few inches above the ground. A graceful, inhuman movement. The body freed of the weight of sin and worry and the world. It pulled Molly out of the van and ripped open her shirt. It tilted her head back slightly and caressed her chest with a scabby, filthy hand. “Your colleagues will be pleased,” it said to the cop, “To have captured such a high ranked morsel.”
The cop flinched, but said nothing.
Daryl blinked, his mind burning. He now regretted crying back at his neighbor’s house. There was nothing human left in these creatures. Nothing good left in them. He focused on the creature holding Molly, watching with wide eyes as it caressed her breasts, feeling a boiling rage drift through his stomach and rise in his chest. “Mother of God!” he shouted. “Are they Vampires? I am Legend, Richard Matheson. You ever read that?” He looked at the cop. Innocent face, wide eyes. The guy was a simpleton.
The cop looked unsteady already. He glanced over Daryl’s shoulder at the creature, then looked at Daryl, “What?”
The creature holding Molly paused as well. Surely it was too far away to hear everything, but it seemed to be listening none the less.
“The Omega Man. Charlton Heston. Last Man on Earth, Vincent Price. They were going to remake it, big studio style but, thankfully, the world ended.” Daryl chattered.
The cop stared at him, slack jawed. “Yes… I saw the Heston movie…”
“Excellent!” Daryl said nervously, “We’re on the same page, then. So what did you think of it? Kind of screwed up the Matheson story, eh? But closer to our current situation, yes?”
The creature holding Molly stared incredulously at Daryl.
“It’s amazing,” the woman rasped. “They’ve always been like this.”
“Always?” Daryl asked.
“I’ll check in,” the cop said, “Get some real orders.”
“Good,” Daryl replied, “You’d better do that. These vampire aliens are amateurs, if you ask me.
“Shut up!” the woman spat.
“Oh my God!” Daryl shouted, “Hurry up, man!”
Then the creature holding Molly dropped her to the ground and turned towards the road.
“Yes,” Daryl’s creature said, as if answering a question, “It is the other truck.”
They could hear each other’s thoughts. Daryl shook his head. What the fuck were these things?
“No it fucking isn’t!” the cop said, standing up and running towards the police car. He peered at the road.
Daryl moved his head slightly, listening. All he heard was the rain, and the idling of the big truck the monsters had used. Then, faintly, he heard the whirring of an approaching car.
“It must be the other truck. There’s no…” The creature holding Daryl mumbled to itself.
“It fucking isn’t!” the cop screamed.
Molly’s creature nodded in agreement and drifted out into the open. Daryl’s captor released him.
Daryl smiled. “Rival vampire zombie death clan?”
“It is not the truck.” Daryl’s monster said.
“Your friends said that already, sweetheart.” Daryl whispered in a mocking conspiratorial tone, backing away.
“It is them,” the creature replied, looking at Daryl.
“Them who?”
“We must remember the agreement at –“ The cop started to shout.
“Then we had best leave,” the woman replied, gazing at Daryl. “Kill his woman.”