CREEPERS Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16
The First Assault

The mandatory evacuation of Lehigh Acres and Immokalee was spiraling out. Those who remained did so because of what happened the last time they were forced to evacuate: back during Hurricane Jenny. When they returned most of their homes were untouched by the storm but thieves had stolen everything of value, even their cheap lawn furniture and plastic flamingos.
The Army reserves had swept though as many communities as possible, trying to enforce the evacuation but pockets of resistors, fools and opportunists remained. The government was not prepared to drag seniors kicking and screaming from their homes, after all elections were coming up.
The initial story of a chemical spill had been believed for less than twenty-four hours, everyone across the nation had learned the truth about the infestation. The creepers had been the lead story on every news program in the nation for days. However the consensus across the rest of the country was still one of mild concern, as one sidewalk interviewee opined to a channel 4 Reporter in Denver: “How bad can it be? It’s just a weed, right?”
There had been talk of building a wall across the northern border of the state but the futility of the plan was quickly realized even by the bureaucrats pressing for it who had hoped to cash in by steering hundreds millions of dollars in contracts to their cronies. Every attempt at stopping the spread northward had failed. The state was about to be shutdown and those that refused to leave or were unable to, were shit out of luck, as the governor said in one last attempt to get them to leave. The point was made clear to Floridians: Get out while you can. If you don’t you’re two steps from becoming fertilizer.
Bill Robinson, Phil Thomas and their buddy Cap Ryan and their reluctant wives were the only residents left in the small retirement community of Easy Acres, a condominium complex of two level duplexes built in the 1980s. There had been 145 residents before the infestation. Now there were nine.
The last few days had been rough. In August Florida was hot, humid, a hellish place to be even if you were at the beach. Here fifteen miles from the ocean with the power out, no air conditioning, ceiling fans or even a trace of a tropical breeze it was unbearable.
The wives sat by the condo pool under a black and white stripped umbrella sipping instant, iced tea, minus the ice and cursing their decision to stay behind with their obstinate husbands.
Dorothy Ryan who had insisted everyone call her Dottie, from the day she moved into Easy Acres with her husband Cap, a retired UPS pilot pushed her glass aside with disgust, “Yuck.” No one had ever called her Dottie before. The self imposed nickname and her dyed red hair were all part of her ‘New Me’ phase, as she called it. After thirty years she had finally escaped Detroit and the dreary life she had endured there. She even wore poke-a-dot dresses to hammer in the point. Dorothy Ryan was dead, but Dottie was living the care-free life of a happy retiree in Florida, odd as it seemed it was a big improvement, now it had all gone to shit. Normally a chatter box she had kept quiet the last few days. She knew Loretta and Patsy were pissed at her for her tepid support of her husband’s plan to ignore the mandatory evacuation. Patsy had suggested they pack up and head north to Cap’s lake-house in Michigan were the three couples had spent the first two weeks of July every summer for ten years. The cabin was stocked with canned goods, had working utilities and today the temperature was in the low eighties with a cool breeze blowing off Lake Loraine
Patsy broke the silence,” I can’t believe a plant is going to be the downfall of the United States of America. I thought it would be the North Koreans, the Chinese or the Russians or Internet porn, but a plant? ‘America Crushed by Creepers’ that will be the headline around the world.”
Loretta was so hot she felt like she would swoon at any moment, at sixty-two, she was the youngest of the trio, but today she felt ninety. She longed to get into the pool and cool off but the water had turned scummy since the power went out and the pump stopped. She couldn’t see the mosquito larva twitching below the surface but she knew they were there. They would begin to hatch at dusk. Around the state thousands of other stagnant pools were also breeding millions of ravenous mosquitoes, notching up the misery for the fools who had stayed behind. Loretta fanned herself with a People magazine and said for the tenth time that afternoon. “I think we should just get in our cars and drive north, drive anywhere. We could go to the Walmart on 101, they must be open. Walmart never closes and at least our cars are air conditioned.”
Dottie lit another Salem and blew a cloud of menthol smoke at the flies that buzzed around her as if she were dead already. “The Walmart is closed Loretta, it closed four days ago. I told you before, the roads are all blocked by those damn vines and even if they weren’t none of our cars has more than a quarter tank of gas. If we ran out of gas miles from here there will be no place to fill up and we would be stranded. It’s just a plant, be patient they’ll find a way to kill it. All they need is industrial strength weed killer or something. We’re Americans, killing is what we’re good at.”
Loretta chimed in, “Bet they got some weed-killer at the Walmart.”
Dottie ignored her and drained her glass of tea and got up. I’m going to go take a cool bath if the water’s still on. When Cap comes back tell him I went home.”
Cap was hunkered down with the guys on the side of the road in a webbed lawn chair he bought in 1992 beneath a party canopy he’d borrowed from a now dead neighbor back in 1998. Cap never threw anything away. The support ropes at the four corners were anchored with five gallon buckets of sand. Cap had saved the buckets for twelve years knowing someday they’d come in handy, and they had. He pulled the Colt 45 revolver from his holster and spun the chamber. “Yep, sure glad I kept this canopy and chairs from Patty’s wedding. Dottie wanted to give um to the church. That’s why I never listen to that woman, found those buckets in the lot across the street when they were building the new Dry Cleaners, got um free. Dottie wanted me to throw them out too.”
Bill took a swig of his hot beer and winced at the taste. “Well Cap, I sure wished you’d listened to her when she suggested we pack it in and go to Michigan. She was right about that. And quit playing with that damn gun, you’re goanna blow your balls off. Not that you ever get to use um anyway.” They all laughed at that except Cap, he spun the cylinder one more time for spite. After all he was the only one with a gun so he could do whatever the hell he wanted. He holstered the gun. “You’ll be glad I brought this pistol if a gang of looters shows up tonight. We’ll see who has balls then.
Bill grinned, “Shut the fuck up and have another beer. Sun’s going down we got through another day and I don’t think any looters are going to waste their time steeling your junk when there are millionaires’ mansions to rob just up the road. That wall of weeds is at least two miles away. We got nothing to worry about tonight but the heat, warm beer and those fucking mosquitoes.
From the top of an overpass a quarter mile away Roundtree observed the men as they began packing up and getting ready to head home. He smiled and signaled his troops.
They moved slowly, keeping an unconscious rhythm with each other, one mind, one life form with many bodies. The only independent mind among them was Roundtree’s. Although possessed by the will of the creepers. He could think for himself and make plans and decisions but now he had uncontrollable urges, new instincts, needs that he could not explain or ignore. The others did not posses the quickness of men either in mind or body. They plodded forward without thought or ambition filling their brainless heads, they were merely an appendage of the plant, human in form only.
Roundtree, like most rulers, was faster, stronger and had a mind of his own, a mind that was controlled by the creepers. Soon he would become the most dangerous being on earth.
Cap took a sip of his beer as he folded up his lawn chair. “Miller Lite sucks enough when it’s cold, but warm. . . I’m switching back to scotch until the power comes back. I’ve had enough of warm beer.” He tossed the full can into the street.
Phil said, “Well if you don’t like it, don’t waste it. We only have one and half cases of beer left.” He wiped the sweat off his wrinkled forehead and swatted a mosquito on his neck.
Clouds had formed in the eastern horizon and a welcome breeze billowed from it. Cap stretched and unconsciously caressed the walnut butt of his Colt. The breeze felt good he turned his face to the east to make the most of it. He sat down on the cooler and winced at the familiar ach in his bones. Then he saw them. “Who the fuck are they?
Phil stood up to get a better look, his glasses were at home on the kitchen table, all he could see were silhouettes of what looked like a few dozen men ambling towards them. A big man was in the center of the group, he carried himself differently than the others.
Bill was wearing his glasses he could see clearly what was approaching. They were less than a hundred yards away. It took him a second to speak, his heart was racing and a sense of dread washed over him. He had a sick feeling of doom that he hadn’t felt since Vietnam. “Their naked and they’re . . . green. Do you see that? Their fucking green!”
Cap pulled out his Colt, but it failed to give him the sense of protection he had expected, he had six bullets and there were at least sixty of them.
Time slowed, the intruders seemed in no hurry. Cap saw that they were unarmed but once they got within twenty yards he too began to tremble. The creatures that were now within a stone’s throw were the most terrifying things he had ever seen. Their sinister, green faces were expressionless. Their ears long were pointed, leaf like. Their faces were the faces of the executed criminals who’s DNA was knitted into their own. For this reason, many were clones. Their long, joint-less, fingers were tipped with curved thorns. Their black eyes reflected no emotion. They lacked eyelids, their unwavering stares were unnerving.
The big one in the center, obviously the leader, appeared more human than the others. He crossed the street as his minions encircled the men.
Cap held his gun up but didn’t point it at the thing in front of him. He wanted them to know he was armed but he didn’t want a confrontation, he just prayed that they would back off. They reeked of composted weeds and dead flowers. They were close, a few feet. It was worse than a nightmare. Cap’s heart was pounding painfully in his chest. Without realizing it, he pissed his pants. Cap found his voice at last, “Who are you? What do you want?”
Roundtree looked at the pathetic group of codgers. This one has a gun, but it didn’t concern him. “We are the future, the next advance in the evolution of life on earth. “Take them.”
Cap raised the colt and pointed it at Roundtree, his hand stopped shaking and he felt calm wash over him. “Back off! Back off or I’ll blow your fucking head off!”
A Creeper who was the genetic progeny of a dead rapist, Garcia Gomez stepped in front of his king, two other creeps moved methodically towards Cap.
He looked into their black eyes, void of any emotion. He took aim at the closer of the two and fired, the bullet stuck the Creep in the left eye. Its head jerked as the back of it was blown off. It turned slowly, stumbled a dozen steps dropped to its knees and fell forward, the body twitched for a few times and then lay still. The other Creeps were undeterred several moved in for the kill. Cap shot the one to his right in the chest, it fell back dead.
Phil was surrounded, he began begging for his life and pleading with his buddies to save him. “Please, just leave me alone, I’ll do whatever you say. Cap! Cap! Stop them! Please!”
A cold hand snatched the back of Phil’s neck and lifted him up like a stray cat. He tried to twist free but the grip was too powerful. He looked into the eyes of the Creep who had him and pure evil starred back at him. It stood close to seven feet tall. The Creep arched Phil’s back and held him out as offering. Another Creep shorter but stocky ambled over Phil, its mouth opened and a reptilian tongue flicked out. It raised its clawed green hand to Phil’s throat.
Phil screamed and pissed his pants as the claws punctured his carotid artery, blood spurted in an arch into the mouth of the Creeper and others staggered in eager for a taste. Phil’s eyes rolled back into his head and for him it was over.
Bill had seen enough he ran. He ran for his life. He ran as fast as a sixty-eight year old, fat man could. When he looked back he saw a dozen Creeps ambling after him. His heart was about to burst, after running twenty yards he was too winded to go on, he stumbled, fell, managed to get to his feet, took a few more steps and stopped. His left arm ached, his heart pounded with excruciating pain. He looked back again, they were closing in. A bolt of pain ripped though his chest, his eyes bulged and his breathing tapered off to little more than pants. His vision blurred as they reached him. One of them snatched him up by the scruff of his neck and lifted him off of his feet, but he was dead before they could kill him. His last moment of life held the relief that in a way he had escaped.
The Creeps closed in on the body like a pack of hyenas and ripped it to pieces. They grunted like feral hogs as they devoured the dead man, bones and all. Fifteen minutes later there was nothing left of Bill but scrapes of clothes and a red stain in the course grass.
Cap had witnessed the slaughter of his friends and knew he was next. He had no path of escape, he was surrounded, out of the corner of his eye he saw Roundtree. He knew he was the leader. Cap suddenly spun to the left and fired a shot between two Creeps, the bullet struck Roundtree in the right shoulder. He fell back from the impact of the slug. Cap fired again but missed the next shot hit a Creep who threw himself in front of his King. The bullet hit its open mouth and blew off the back of its head, the thing wandered around dead on its feet for several seconds before tipping over dead. One shot left, they were closing in, Cap knew it was over. He put the gun to his temple and fired, his head exploded in a spray of pink as the Creeps closed in to devour what was left of him. Then they marched on towards the houses.
Dottie heard the front door open. She was sitting in the bath her feet up on the edge a wet towel over her eyes. “Cap I’m in the bath! Be a dear and light me a Salem.”
The bathroom door creaked opened.
Dottie took the towel from her eyes, looked up and screamed.