Extremis Excerpt

I can see headlights in the sky and the wooden mast of a utility pole. I push through the weeds and thorns and finally come out onto the road as the truck rushes past with a blur of lights and a gust of hot, dusty wind.

“Fuck!” I yell as my hair blows in its wake. I throw my arms out in frustration, wanting to almost cry at the near miss.

As I watch my chance for rescue pass, I see pale, shadowy shapes dart around in the back of the truck. The red brake lights flare to life.
I hold my breath as the tires squeal and the vehicle comes back toward me.

Two bodies fly over the cab and onto the hood as the person accelerates wildly in reverse. The truck is swerving all over the place, straddling the center line and then the shoulders without slowing. Gravel and dirt spin up near the tires and patter down in the weeds on the sides of the road.

“What the fuck?” I breathe as the truck barrels toward me with a maniac behind the wheel and a person in the back trying to hold on.

I jump out of the way at the last second, fully prepared to start cursing the idiot as soon as I get a seat inside. I consider waving him on, but it might be the last one for a while and I’m not even sure the guy is sober enough to understand what the gesture might mean.

I’m really hoping that isn’t the case.

When the truck stops beside me and I see the frightened face inside I realize all my internal arguments were for nothing. The fucker in the back isn’t some drunk good old boy out having a good time with his buddies.

It’s a damned demon.

My world shifts on its axis and for a moment I wonder if they haven’t tricked me again, let me believe that I made it off the property—made me imagine the journey here. I can’t comprehend this.

They’re here.

They’ve followed me here and I’m so aghast for a moment that I don’t know what to say. Hallucinating while drunk, or whatever it was at the farm, is one thing, but these things existing miles away from that cursed ground is another.

The thought that they’re following me around is horrifying and once again I see the face of that woman at the gas station. I’d hoped…I’d truly believed it was a stress reaction, but it’s looking more and more likely that I’m some kind of walking monster magnet. Impending madness, incipient insanity…my internal reverie collapses when a blur in the headlights catches my eye.

The demon’s buddies that the driver managed to throw out into the road are sprinting toward us on all fours with the same gleeful, animalistic grins. They don’t look injured from the fall and they’re moving much too fast. Faster than most people would be able to manage, especially after smacking the asphalt at thirty miles per hour.

“Help me!” the driver screams and I realize that I’m still staring.

I don’t think. I just yank the shotgun up and put a load of triple aught into the truckbed demon’s chest before I jump into the passenger seat. I’m hardly in before the driver takes off again with another ill-advised squealing of tires. I have to use all my strength to hold on and slam the door shut without falling out.


“Don’t hit them!” I yell as the truck’s trajectory takes us right toward the creeps in the middle of the road. “You might damage the truck.”

Even with the deer guard on the front, I don’t think hitting things that big is wise.

We barely miss them and I finally have time to put on my seatbelt and take in my rescuer as we barrel down the old road at a perilous seventy miles per hour.

What I see doesn’t reassure me at all.

“What are you, fourteen?” I ask, staring a bit incredulously at the little girl peering up over the steering wheel. Her feet barely reach the damned pedals. “What the hell are you doing driving around with those damn—those things in the back?”

She glares at me, taking her eyes off the road for far longer than I think is safe…or sane. “I’m twenty, thank you very much and I wasn’t cartin’ them around by choice, sir.”

The drawl in her voice tells me that she’s not from around here. I’m immediately curious as to why there is a half-sized Southern belle chauffeuring demons around the backwoods of Kansas.

She seems a bit unsteady and her driving makes me anxious, ironic considering what I’ve been doing for the past three days. Still, I should probably apologize. She seems a bit insulted.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get a good look at you and I’m still a bit shaken up. You don’t look fourteen,” I allow, moving the shotgun to a more comfortable spot.

She eyes the weapon but doesn’t seem nervous and that kind of makes me nervous.

What kind of girl—I roll my eyes—young woman, isn’t nervous picking up a stranger at night? Especially a half-dressed, dirty one carrying a shotgun? What the hell is going on here?

“How much ammo you got for that thing?”

I think for a second, counting. “Six shells left.”

“Hmm. We’ll need to find more soon. That won’t last long. I wish I’d been able to get into Ben’s safe…” She trailed off and looked me over. “You look like a half-dead male stripper…no offense.”

My mouth drops open and I stare.

“Just saying,” she adds defensively. Then, a few moments later, “Do you want something to eat? I’ve got some food in that bag down there.” She nods toward the floor and I pounce on it immediately.

“Thanks. I haven’t eaten since Friday. Do you have any water?”

“It’s in the bag.”

She drives more slowly as I eat and drink my fill. She’s looking at me but I don’t see any wariness there, more like curiosity. I finally lean back, wincing at the pain, and run my hands through my filthy hair. I smell like sweat, river water, rotting fish, and vodka. I can’t be a very trustworthy-looking sight.

“You should be careful who you pick up. There are a lot of bad people in the world." I don't elaborate and from the look on her face, I don’t need to.

“You should be careful you who ride with. Hitchikin’ is dangerous business,” she retorts. “I could be a crazed axe murderer.”

“You’re too little to be an axe murderer,” I grunt.

“I can take care of myself,” she says, a bit wounded. “Mostly. Why are you wandering around at night, naked and without any water? Are you an idiot or something?”

She says it so matter-of-factly that I snort.

“Probably.”

She grins and I continue. “I came out here three days ago from the city. I was going home to…visit. I encountered some bad…stuff…and I had to leave suddenly.”

This time she snorts. “Bad stuff, huh? Like old Beelzebub back there?” she asked, jerking her head backward.

“Yeah, just like him. I’ve seen a few of those things now. What the fu—what’s going on?” I ask, willing to display my ignorance if it meant I could find out just what the hell was happening.

“No freaking clue. Friday afternoon I was leaving summer school with my cousin Luke—”

She cuts off abruptly and I raise my eyebrow at her. “Twenty, huh?”

She sighs. “Maybe more like eighteen. This was my last year of school. My momma put me in late.”

I nod for her to go on.

“Anyway, we went to hit the drive-in for a snack. We got our food and everything, and then as soon as we were about to leave one of the employees gets thrown through the window. We jumped out to see if she was okay…she wasn’t.”

“She was dead?” I ask.

“Nope. She was one of them. We only saw that one, but people were getting anxious after that, packing up and leaving town. The cops were all over the place and I know we were speeding right past several of them, but they didn’t stop us. We hightailed it out of there and got back to Uncle Ben’s. Everything was normal there, for a while. Last night, Aunt Shirley started climbing the walls…literally. We were sitting around the T.V. watching the emergency broadcasts. She—”

The girl stops talking for a moment and I realize that she’s crying.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I say, heart sinking.

“I need to,” she sniffs, craning her neck to see over the steering wheel. “She killed Luke. She slithered down the wall and broke his neck like it was nothing. I can still hear it. Her own son! She got after Uncle Ben next. He didn’t make it, I don’t think. I ran.”

Her driving is getting more erratic, and I start to get nervous.

“Hey, why don’t we switch for a while. You look like you need a break.”

She wipes her face and stops the truck. “Okay, but promise you won’t go into town. Town is a hell zone now.”

Hell Zone.

I do not like the sound of that. I revise my original plan. I’m not in any condition to deal with a town that she classifies as a hell zone, whatever that is. I think I can figure it out though.

“Okay. I’m going to try to find a house somewhere. Maybe we can find more people and get out of here…find some help.”

“You don’t understand, do you?” she asks, studying me.

I’m starting to get a really bad feeling.

“Understand what?”

“There ain’t going to be any help. It’s like this everywhere.”