Respect the Dead. Shawn McLain
off the ground, in the air then hard onto her feet. Hands still clawed at her, fingers tangled in her hair, her arm still being held by a disheveled man. Kate screamed in agony, her shoulder felt as if it was separating from her body.
Another blur of motion and the ringing of metal like a bell. The man lost his grip on Kate’s arm. She was in the air again then her breath was gone as she slammed onto Bear’s shoulder. She fought to gain air as she bumped along. Her back cried out in protest as she slammed onto the back rest of his bike. She barely got her leg over before she was smashed between Bear and the sissy bar.
“Dad! DAD! Where’s Dad?” Kate pounded on Bear’s huge back. She could see her father’s bike on its side. She watched his boots twitching next to it. Her father was completely covered by people.
The engine roared, tires screamed, dirt and gravel spit while the tires fought for traction. The front wheel left the ground for a second; Kate was crushed between the huge man and the seat again. She tried to turn to look back as Bear flew down the road. Tears streamed down her face from the pain of her body and knowing they couldn’t help her father.
Time to Clock Out
Steve rubbed his eyes, then the back of his neck. So far the early part of his shift at the distribution center had been its usual mundane repetition. He was using one of the larger forklifts to stack empty shipping containers. The work was boring and Steve’s mind was wandering. He was back on the football field, the stadium at the college roared. He was dropping back to pass. It was first and goal with seconds left on the clock. This pass would win the game and the division. CRASH! The container he was moving slammed down harder than it should on the loading dock.
Shaking out of his fantasy he tried to play off the blunder. “Damn! I need a break. Hey Brad, let’s get a cup a coffee.” He shouted to the man who was passing on another forklift.
Brad Stevens was an older man.. He had a short grey pony tail that framed the bald top of his head. He slowed his lift, thought for a second then grimaced, “Yeah alright be right there.”
“Well only if it isn’t too much trouble.” Steve laughed Jumping down from his machine. Brad waved him off as Steve passed by on his way toward the office. Halfway there Brad jogged up to join him, slapping Steve on the back.
“Figured it was about break time, you woke me up with that last container.” Brad laughed.
Steve looked over at Brad’s pony tail and bald head. “When you gonna cut that thing off? You look like a bowling ball wearing a hula skirt.”
“You can…” But Steve never heard what he could do. Their conversation was interrupted as an office window exploded. Glass and an office chair tumbled to the ground at their feet.
Steve stopped short throwing out an arm to stop Brad. Their attention was drawn from the chair at their feet to the shattered window. Screams erupted through the opening. A hand shot up then another grabbing onto the glass splintered ledge. Rachel was trying to claw her way out of the shattered window.
“Help me, dear GOD! Steve, Brad! HELP!” She screamed. Her eyes were full of terror. They glanced at each other then ran to the terrified woman, Steve searched for smoke or fire. He couldn't see or smell either. There were no alarms just Rachel’s pleas.
Each man grabbed an arm trying to pull her free of the window. No matter they're struggle she remained stuck screaming louder and louder for help. Steve could barely keep a grip on her arm. Her hands and arms were full of cuts from the broken glass. Her skin was slick with blood and she was flailing in terror. They tugged and pulled, each time she cried out in pain and fear. The more they pulled the more she seemed to be pulled back.
Her face was pale with terror. Her screams became more frantic by the second. Suddenly her grip tightened painfully on their arms. “Pull me out pull me out NOW!” She struggled wiht all her might. She wriggled her feet kicking hard. Her cries increasing in pitch and intensity, she was truly panicked. She grabbed and clawed at the men, blood oozed down the wall where the broken glass cut into her stomach. Steve heard crashing from the room. He had to cover his head as she thrashed and pulled. Steve tried to calm her, get her to work with them to free her from the window.
“They…They…They’re getting in! Get me out! Pull PULL PULL! Get off GET OFF AAARRGHGGGH GET ME OUT NOW!!” Rachel screamed at them. Tears streamed down her face as her eyes bulged. Steve and Brad pulled with all their might urged on by her panic. With a sudden lurch like a cork being pulled from a bottle she slipped free from the window.
Steve knew in an instant that something was terribly wrong. Rachel was far too light. Looking down, “Sweet Jesus!” Steve cried in horror. Lying at his feet was only half of the woman. She gasped as red covered her lips and ran down her chin. Blood was draining quickly from just under her rib cage, her spine was exposed and her intestines made a trail from her torso to the window.
Steve’s eyes followed the gruesome trail from the ground to the gaping shattered glass, “Holy Shit!” He cried stumbled backward tripping over Rachel’s sputtering torso. Gaining his balance he grabbed Brad’s arm. The men were shocked at horror. The watched as the woman’s intestines were being pulled back through the window.
Rachel gurgled blood. It spurt from her mouth with each gasp. She reached for Steve. He never knew if she was trying to tell him something. He moved to closer to her as her eyes rolled back into her head. Brad let out a howl, pushed off of Steve he pointed at the window then ran toward the parking lot.
Steve's head whipped from his retreating friend to where he had pointed. In the window was the face of a man. It was the shipping manager, only his right eye socket was empty and bloody. He was pulling the intestine back through the window. He pulled bits into his mouth slurping greedily as he did so.
Steve watched the hideous display, not being able to make his feet obey his command to run. Something grabbed his ankle breaking him out of his shock. Not wanting to but not being able to stop he looked down. Rachel had one hand on his boot the other was clawing at the gravel. Her eyes showed no pain or recognition just hunger. He kicked her off. He was running blindly after Brad toward the parking lot. Screams and more shattering glass chased him from the office.
Find Safety
Bill Reager slowed the station wagon slightly through the red light at the bottom of the hill. Beth clung tightly to the seat belt, not out of fear over the older man’s driving but to fight the grief and panic that was threatening to overtake her. It was her lifeline, the only thing that seemed real at the moment. Every time she closed her eyes her father’s face, contorted in terror and agony, swam before her vision, it was all that she could see. She had to talk to her brother. She needed to know he was OK, and he had to know not to go home.
Releasing the belt, her fingers ached from the grip. She moved her shaking hand into her jacket. It wasn’t in the inside pocket where she kept it. “Where is it?” Beth fumbled through her pockets. Bill glanced sideways at her.
“Where is it?” She slapped at the jacket. She felt her pants pockets, returned to her jacket. “WHERE IS IT!” She shouted.
Returning to the inside pocket her fingers curled around the familiar shape of the phone. Pulling it from her pocket she laughed while several tears escaped her eyes. Hitting the speed dial she put the phone to her ear. “Damn it.” She hung up, scrolled through the contacts. Hit the name but instantly dropped the phone grabbing the seat belt again. Bill jumped a curve to avoid a motorcycle. The rider was out of control, tearing out of one yard then heading through another. Several people stumbled after him.
Recovering herself, she grabbed up her phone frantically unlocking it she tried to make another call. The car bounced and swerved around a burning truck. She hit the wrong contact. Quickly hanging up she dialed another number. One hand held tight to the belt the other holding the phone to her ear. Anger swelled up in her. She jerked the phone from her ear hitting the red “end” button. She tried again. Frustration boiled into anger. She pulled the phone from her ear yelling into the receiver at the