The Rule of Three

— 23 —

Behind Jack and George, wood and concrete splintered with a crash. Half-turning, Jack saw the monsters piling into the corridor, screeching and howling, saliva dripping from their sucker mouths. Muscles rippled beneath semi-translucent skin. They spotted Jack and George and howled as they bounded towards them.

George reached the red door first and was pulling it open when the next door down opened. The man with the red trucker’s cap appeared, a stunned look on his face as he took in the unfolding chaos. Jack barrelled into him, taking him to the ground. The man bucked beneath him, shifting his weight in an attempt to throw Jack off. His hands flailed, desperate to get a hold on Jack.

Jack saw an opening and, without hesitation, rammed a screwdriver up under the man’s chin, burying it deep into his brain. The man’s eyes went wide with disbelief as Jack watched the life blink out.

Groping bastard!

A creature howled and leapt off the wall at Jack, claws extended. Jack twisted and threw himself through the door. But too slow. The creature raked its claws down his leg, tearing into his flesh. Screaming in pain, Jack stabbed down with the screwdriver, plunging it through the weird translucent skin and into its flesh. Gritting his teeth, Jack kicked out with his free leg, smashing the beast’s head. The monster howled in anger, and clawed and scratched at Jack’s torso. George, leaning over Jack, started whacking the monster on the head with his little hammer. The monster momentarily let Jack go to deal with this new annoyance, giving Jack the chance to kick out again. Freeing himself, Jack grabbed George, slammed the door closed and locked it.

Immediately, the creatures started throwing themselves at the door.

Throom, throom, throom. The sound of them hitting the door reverberated around the small room.

Ignoring the agony lancing up his body, Jack pulled himself to his feet. He knew the flimsy door and lock wouldn’t hold the monsters out for long. Hobbling over to the metal lockers next to the door, he tried to tip them over.

“George, help me push!” he yelled.

George scrambled away from the noise of the beasts and stared at Jack.

“Push. Buddy. Please,” Jack pleaded, straining with the weight of the locker.

George pushed against the metal side, and with their joint effort it crashed across the doorway.

“And this one too.”

A second locker joined the first.

Exhausted from the fight and the effort of moving the lockers, Jack stood gasping. Blood continued to pour from his wounds and he was beginning to feel lightheaded. He knew he needed to stop the bleeding, at least temporarily. Sitting down with his back against the far wall, Jack taped up his wounds with the last of his duct tape. He could see they were deep.

God knows what bacteria and germs those things have on their claws. Will I become one of them?

The creatures continued to slam against the door. Jack could hear tearing sounds. They were beginning to tear the plasterboard walls surrounding the door.

Frantic, Jack looked around for an escape route. The small window was out; Jack had already tried it the day before. Welded shut, for some reason. The glass was reinforced with wire mesh.

They were trapped in a room with horrifying creatures attacking them, and with no way out. The same as in Aliens… Aliens! Suddenly, Jack had the answer. The ceiling! He looked at it. It was a false hanging ceiling made with cheap plaster tiles that could be individually moved.

Thanking his movie obsessions, and his knowledge of building materials, Jack grabbed George under his arms and hoisted him on top of the lockers. Jumping up, he pushed a tile up and to one side and poked his head through. Jack could see right across the rooms, and dividing the rooms were solid concrete walls with enough space to walk on.

Throom. Throom. Throom.

“C’mon, George.” He grabbed the child and lifted him through into the ceiling cavity. “See that concrete bit? Run along to the end. Go! Now!”

Screeching, and then a huge rip, sounded from below as the monsters tore through the wall and into the room. Jack’s heart leapt into his throat. With one final look below, he replaced the tile and turned to follow George, blood dripping off his boot and onto the ceiling tiles.

A monster smashed through the ceiling behind. If they hadn’t been so dangerous, he’d have laughed as it got all tangled in the metal struts and wires. A red mist descended over Jack’s vision. Pulling the rusty, red-handled machete from his belt, he lashed out at the nightmare’s head, slicing into its neck and on, down through muscle and tissue. Black, gunky blood gushed over his hands. The machete stuck fast, lodged on the spinal column.

He pushed against the monster’s chest, yanking the blade out.

Another one smashed its way through the ceiling.

Oh, you want some too!

He swung out with the machete, taking a big hunk of its face off.

“Jack! Jack!” George screamed.

More creatures started slamming through the ceiling.

“Run! I’m coming,” Jack said. Taking a last swipe at the nearest creature, Jack half ran, half hobbled after George.

There! He could see sunlight streaming through a maintenance tunnel. He lifted George up and pushed him into it.

This red-haired kid, his chance at redemption.

Jack pushed himself through the tunnel, pain beginning to take its toll. Gritting his teeth, he fought through it. He wanted to find Dee so bad, to hold her again. Feel her soul. To sit on their couch and watch their favourite movies and talk into the night.

He and Dee could talk about anything. It was one of the things he loved about her.

Jack glanced at George. Now he had someone else who needed him.

Dee would love him.

With the warmth of the sun on his battered body, Jack inhaled his first clean air in days, revelling in the scents; the river, the slight smell of decaying plants, even the lime from the surrounding concrete. He looked down at the boiling, bubbling river so far below. The spillways were open. They were standing in an opening halfway up the dam. On both sides, high cliffs led downriver. The rest of the concrete dam wall soared above them.

Screeching from above echoed around the sides of dam. The monsters howled, eager for their prey. The leader stared down at them, his huge muscles rippling under his bark-like skin. Severed heads on spikes, jiggled as he pointed at Jack and George, and howled.

Monsters ran down the dam from all sides, racing towards Jack and George. A dark avalanche of unstoppable sharp-toothed suckers and claws that made Jack’s blood run cold.

Glancing quickly to his left, Jack grabbed George in a bear hug. “Take a deep breath buddy.”

Filling his lungs, he leapt off the ledge and into the roaring water of the spillway.

Sorry kid. Better to drown than be torn apart.

I’m sorry, so sorry I’ve failed another George…