The Wide, Carnivorous Sky and Other Monstrous Geographies

by John Langan

There was only the noise of eating, flesh tearing, teeth clicking, lips smacking together.

You do the best you can—what you can, which mostly consists of putting on a brave face and not turning your eyes away from whatever horror’s in front of you; although there may be opportunities for more direct action.

“Hang on,” Davis said. “What does it do for blood while it’s Boldly Going Where No Vampire Has Gone Before?”

“Like Superman,” Lee said, “only he’s a vampire, and he doesn’t leave Krypton, he just floats around it so he can snack on the other survivors.”

“Jesus, sir,” Davis had said when the Lieutenant was done. “That’s a shitload of ordnance.” “I stopped at the grenade launcher,” the Lieutenant said. “It seemed excessive.”

An eight-foot-tall space vampire? Visions of soaring through the sky, of savaging scores of men, women, and children around the globe? Injecting himself with adrenaline, for Christ’s sake?

In front of them, the Shadow was thrashing from side to side like the world’s largest insect pinned through the middle. Its claws scythed grass, bushes.

Yeah, it was probably coincidence, or mass hysteria, or all of the above, but there are times when coincidence feels like something else, you know? As if you’re seeing into the way the world really works, underneath all the science and logic and shit.