Biohazard

3

A man came charging out at us. He had a shovel in his hands and he planned on using it. I don’t know where he’d been hiding-maybe under the straw-but he charged right at Carl before any of us could intervene and before Carl could get his weapon up. He swung the shovel and Carl ducked out of the way. It barely missed his head. The shovel blade hit the concrete with such force it sparked.

Then Carl cracked the guy with the butt of his AK and down he went.

He was some raggedy old man with a white beard. He was on his knees, breathing hard, blood running down his temple.

Carl got his rifle on him.

“We won’t hurt you,” I told him and he just looked at me with wild, confused eyes. The eyes of an animal. He muttered something, but it made no sense. The others were circled around us by that time. He saw them, panicked, and crawled away on all fours towards the door.

Carl made to go after him.

“Let him go,” I said.

He made it to the big door, slid it open and the rain poured in. It was coming down in sheets. The old guy was soaking wet in seconds. He cried out something and darted out into the storm. All of this happened in under less than a minute.

We saw him out there, the rain and wind hammering into him. He started first this way, then that, and then…then he screamed. We all saw something huge and undulant move in his direction. It hit him and dragged him off into the rain. None of us could be sure what it was. It just happened too fast. In the back of my mind I had an image of a gigantic snake coming out of the murk.

He screamed again and that was it.

Guns in hand, we watched, we waited, but there was nothing. Just the rain spraying into puddles and lashing the sides of the barn.

Nothing else.