TERRITORY Kelly M. Hudson

Travis snapped another photo of the barren woods at the foot of the hill and when he did, he saw something small and black dart in-between the trees. He looked up from his camera and stared into the woods but couldn’t see any more movement.

It was probably a raccoon.

But that didn’t make much sense. He hadn’t seen a living thing all afternoon, not even a bird, so it was puzzling that he’d see something now. The woods were only a hundred yards away and any animal out there would surely smell him and stay away.

Unless it was rabid. Travis laughed at himself. The city boy, hard at work scaring the crap out of himself.

He hadn’t always been a city boy, though. There was a time that he had every nook and cranny of his Grandmother’s land memorized. He used to come out here and play, whenever his Dad brought them to visit. Travis remembered conquering worlds, fighting hordes and finding buried treasures. It was all magic conjured by his child’s mind though, and he was always aware, even back then, that nature was like a pretty cat: it was beautiful, but it also had claws and teeth.

He’d come back here this one last time, on the eve of the developers swooping in and bulldozing the woods, to take pictures and document a lost part of his life; the last time he could truly remember being happy.

What he’d found had surprised him a bit and made him more than a little sad. They’d had an earthquake two days ago, which was pretty unusual for Kentucky, and when Travis had walked around, he saw trees uprooted and a couple of cracks in the earth. He dutifully took pictures to record it all as he walked the old paths, reliving the days of yonder one last time before the blades cut up the earth that the earthquake hadn’t, and new houses dotted the land.

Travis checked the picture on his digital camera but couldn’t make much out of it other than the creature was small and black. He brought the camera up, pointed in the direction where he’d seen it, and sighted it again.

This time, the creature stood on its hind legs and stared at him. Travis stared back, too far away to figure out what the animal was.

Then it hissed at him. He heard it, clear as day, as if the critter was standing right in front of him.

Travis zoomed in with his camera and what his eyes saw his mind could not put a name to. The creature was about the size of a small dog, with black fur. Its head was shaped oddly like a horse, and had no lips, just skin pulled back tight at the gum lines to reveal jagged, sharp teeth. It had a small black nose, wet with snot, which quivered as it sniffed the air. Its eyes, big and white like saucers with pin-prick black irises, stared intently through him. It didn’t blink, just fixed him with its gaze and held him there as if he were hypnotized.

Then it hissed again.

Storm clouds rolled in the sky, making the early afternoon feel like dusk. Travis snapped a few pictures of the creature and decided it was time to go.

The only problem was, to get to his SUV he’d have to walk past the creature. Travis looked at the creature again. It reared back and hissed again.

He pulled out his cell phone and looked at it; he could call for help, but found there was no signal that far out.

Well, I can always go around. Travis walked to his right; the woods were close, and ten yards into them was the mound where the old railroad tracks used to run. He would follow that back to the road.

The creature watched him, wary and angry. It continued to hiss but Travis kept a good distance from it. He watched it as he walked, slowly and surely, like this was his land and he belonged there.

The creature went to all fours and cautiously took a few steps towards Travis. He stopped and stared at the creature. It stopped and stared back.

There was a good hundred yards between them, but for some reason, Travis didn’t feel like that was enough. Chills crept up his spine. There was something unnerving about the creature, the way it stared and didn’t blink, the intense malice in those eyes. Suddenly, he was very afraid; he had been curious, but that melted away as he felt the creature hone in on him, mark him in some strange way, and Travis went from reminiscing photographer to prey.

Screw that thing, Travis thought. I’m a man, something to be feared. No little creepy-looking bastard was going to make him feel uneasy.

Where the bravado came from, Travis couldn’t say. But it made him do something stupid, and he picked up a rock by his feet, chucking it at the creature. Of course the rock missed, but it was enough to infuriate the little thing.

It hissed and dashed at him, its feet clawing at the dirt as it tore through the brown grass. Travis screeched and ran, sprinting into the woods.

The creature gained on him. It had stopped hissing and sped along, sliding over the ground like a bobsled over ice. Travis ran, casting glances over his shoulder, but he knew he wasn’t going to make it to the road before the creature caught up with him. Hell, he wasn’t even going to make it out of the woods.

He found where the railroad tracks had been and ran along them, his mind clamoring for ideas, for something that would help him out. He looked around, his eyes searching for anything that could work as a weapon. All he saw were a few rocks and some branches. They would have to do.

Travis stopped and bent down. He grabbed another rock and threw it at the creature and this time, he hit home. The rock struck the thing in the head with a terrific, hollow thunk and the creature screamed, falling over sideways. Travis wasn’t sure if he’d killed it or not and he didn’t care. He turned and ran as hard as he could through the woods.

Behind him, he heard the most God-awful howl he’d ever heard in his life. He used the sound to spur him on, to run faster, to get to the road and to his truck so he could get the hell out of there. What used to be a land of comfort and fun for him as a child, had turned into a territory of terror.

Through his heavy breathing, through the sounds of his feet thudding through the woods and the cracking of dry branches, Travis heard another sound. Sounds, actually. Despite his fear, he turned to look, and instantly wished he hadn’t.

Dotting the woods were over a dozen of those creatures, same as the first, and they were all hissing at him, now.

Travis screamed. The howl from the thing had brought others to its side and they sprinted, like a wolf pack, after him.

He could hear them, their little feet, scrambling over the dirt and dried grass and small twigs, scampering and clawing and hissing, hungry for his blood. He heard them close the distance in seconds, gaining on him, just as he could see his truck, not more than fifteen feet away, sitting there like a beacon of safety.

Travis dug in and ran harder than he had since he was a kid, literally running for his life. And still they gained.

He could feel the hot, foul breath of two of them as they ran right on his heels, snapping those teeth together. It sounded like green-sticks breaking as they gnashed their teeth, and they hissed, their spit splattering on the back of his pantlegs.

The truck seemed a long way away, like in those dreams, when someone runs from the terrible monster, but they get nowhere as the beast closes the space between them.

And then, suddenly, he was at the door and fumbling for his keys, desperately trying to get inside, to safety. His cell phone tumbled from his pocket and shattered on the road.

One of the creatures bit into his ankle.

Travis screamed as the tiny teeth burrowed into his flesh, tearing it, coming together, and then yanking back, ripping a chunk of sock and meat from just above his ankle bone. He kicked the creature, knocking it squealing to its back, and stuck his keys into the lock.

The other creature leapt, landing on his right thigh, arching its spine, throwing its head back and baring its teeth. It was about to bite him when Travis swung, back-handing the creature like he would a tennis ball, knocking it off before it could sink its teeth. He turned the keys in the lock, threw the door open, tossed himself inside, and slammed the door behind him.

He sat there, panting and sweating, blood pouring from his ankle and pooling onto the floor. All around, outside the truck, Travis could hear them circling, clawing at the metal, shrieking and hissing, looking for a way in.

He laughed to himself. He wasn’t sure what they were, but he’d beaten them here, and he was going to get away. They’d gotten a piece of him, but they wouldn’t get any more. When he got a good distance away, he’d call animal control and report the incident, and then he’d go to an emergency room. The words “rabid squirrels” went through his head and he thought maybe he’d go to the hospital first, instead.

The front of the truck rocked as first one, then two, then three of the creatures leapt onto the hood. They stalked to the windshield, hissing and spitting; one squatted and pissed.

“Screw you!” Travis screamed.

One of the three flung itself forward and slammed into the glass, snapping its neck. Travis laughed and then a second one did the same thing, hitting the same bloodied spot. He stopped laughing when the third broke open its head ramming into the same spot, because when it did, the windshield cracked just a tiny bit.

Four more launched themselves up on the hood and stalked around, staring at their dead brethren and then at Travis, their eyes big and unblinking, full of hatred.

One after another, they charged the windshield, killing themselves as the crack grew wider and longer. They worked together, like a pack, of one mind and purpose. They would do whatever it took, however many had to be sacrificed, to get what they wanted.

And what they wanted was Travis.

He sat up, more terrified than ever, as he heard creatures climbing up the sides of the truck, their nails digging in and scraping the metal. He put the keys into the ignition and cranked the engine.

It didn’t start.

Cursing, he turned the key again. The engine roared but didn’t catch.

“Goddamnit!” Travis shrieked and pounded his fists on the steering wheel. He was trapped in there, miles from any help, and he was going to get torn to bits by these things. All because he threw one rock—one stupid, stupid rock.

He turned the key again and this time, the engine caught, turned over and ran. Travis screamed his triumph and put the gas pedal to the floor. The truck lurched forward and he felt a sick satisfaction as he heard at least three of the creature’s crunch under his tires. The ones on the hood screeched and slid, their claws scratching for purchase. Instead, they slipped, skimmed over the hood and fell off.

Travis looked in his rearview and watched as the survivors, at least half a dozen of the creatures, ran after the truck, trying to keep up. By the time he reached the bend in the road a half a mile away, they had given up and disappeared.

He sighed and relaxed, feeling the breeze from the rear window gently kiss the back of his neck. His ankle throbbed and every muscle in his legs ached, but he’d made it, he was alive, and they hadn’t gotten him.

That wind feels good, he thought, as it cooled the back of his head.

The wind from the open window.

The. Open. Window.

A creature reared up in the back seat, standing on two legs, hissing at him, baring its fangs. Hot, rancid breath came from its mouth, filling the truck with its stench.

He’d left the rear windows cracked open when he left on his hike because it had been warm out. In the mad scramble and panic of being stalked, he’d forgotten all about it.

Travis slammed on his brakes and the creature flew forward, smashing into the back of the seat, bounced off and hit the floor. He hoped beyond hope that it had broken its neck like the others had, against the windshield. Then it hissed again.

His ankle burned. He was alone in his truck with one of those things and he had to do something to kill it. His eyes roved frantically over the front seat, looking for any kind of weapon, but just like in the woods, he was out of luck.

The creature clawed up the back of the seat and hissed right next to Travis’s ear. He screamed as the creature flung itself around, and tried to get to his face.

He fell against the steering wheel as he tried to protect his face from the claws and teeth that were snapping and clacking less than an inch away.

He’d gotten lucky, catching the creature as it hurled itself, but it was close—too close—and its claws were ripping his hands and its teeth were biting, tearing out chunks of flesh around his knuckles.

Travis screamed and squeezed its body, digging in with his own fingers. Travis lifted it, twisted his body, and bashed the creature against his dashboard. He raised it again, and slammed it against the steering wheel, cracking its spine. The creature screeched, spasmed and died. He threw the body to the floorboards on the passenger side.

Dripping with both his blood and that of the creature, he panted as he looked at its corpse. At least now he’d have some proof.

Travis put the car back into gear and drove on. His ankle and hands hurt where he’d been bitten, and he needed immediate help. It started to rain, and he turned on the wipers, the pulsing pain in his ankle and the throbbing in his hands matching their rhythm. At one point, he feared he’d faint so he rolled down the window and stuck his head out for some fresh air. For a second, he feared that more of the creatures had hung on somehow and were waiting to pounce, but nothing happened.

His eyes began to fog over and he felt sick to his stomach. His head grew heavy and lolled on his neck a couple of times as he almost passed out. He rolled down all his windows as the agony of his wounds grew hotter and more painful.

Travis looked down at his hands, seeing they were swollen so bad that he wondered how he was even using them. They were huge, fire ant red and the way his ankle felt, he figured it must look the same.

He grew more and more delirious. He wondered if those creatures had some kind of poison in their bite and he reckoned that they must have, for his body to be reacting like it did.

It took Travis, feverish and confused as he was, more than half an hour to drive to the city, less than twelve miles from where he’d stopped. His truck crawled along as he fought to stay conscious and on the road. Dozens of cars passed him, blaring their horns and cursing him; he didn’t care. I have to keep going, get to the hospital, get some help.

On the outskirts of town, at the beginning of the suburbs that ringed the city, he passed out, steering his truck into a row of cars parked along the side of the road. He didn’t remember sitting up and stumbling from his truck, he just knew that all of the sudden, he was outside and laying on the cold hard ground. It had stopped raining and the day had warmed slightly.

A hundred yards away, Travis heard a sound, like the chattering of squirrels. Travis looked up and saw that he was in the yard of a Day Care Center, and that twenty or so little kids were out in the playground, laughing and swinging and carrying on. None of them noticed him. Travis smiled. He liked kids.

He needed help. He would crawl to the Day Care and get one of the attendants to call an ambulance.

Travis couldn’t feel his legs or his arms anymore. They were numb and swollen and he looked at his hands and couldn’t believe that they used to be hands because now they were useless stumps of red fat. He rolled over and looked down at his bitten ankle. It was nearly the size of a basketball and as he stared at it, the flesh pulsed like a heart was beating underneath it.

Travis laughed, knowing he was going to die. He was out of his mind, giggling hysterically.

He heard a wet rip and looked down at his ankle. The swollen flesh had burst open and gobs of pus and green mucus was pouring from the wound. There was something else in there, too, something small and black moving in the gunk gushing from his leg.

Travis screamed when he realized what it was, what they were, and what the bites had really done to him. He screamed again when his hands burst open and a dozen of those creatures poured out of the slime and spilled onto the ground.

The bites of the creatures hadn’t poisoned him, they’d impregnated him.

Travis watched as the dozen creatures from his ankle squirmed and grew and hissed and joined their brothers, born from his hands. They looked at Travis, those little eyes big and staring and full of malice, and Travis knew what remained of him was their lunch.

The kids in the playground squealed as they played their games and the eyes of the creatures moved from Travis to the kids, a hundred yards away, riveting in with hunger and lust.

Travis screamed one last time as the creatures scrambled across the field towards the Day Care, ready to kill, eat, and impregnate. He coughed blood pouring from his mouth, and then Travis screamed no more.

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