Creepy - Day 31 - Happy Halloween from the Gas Station

Episode Date: October 31, 2020

There's this gas station at the edge of town...bring your mask...***Written by Gas Station Jack (see more from him at gasstationjack.com)***Guest Narration by Owen McCuen, Joe Stofko, Megan McDuffee, Steve Blizin, Sapphire Sandalo, Jimmy Ferrer, Alicia Atkins, and Nate Dufort***See your donation rewards at patreon.com/creepypod***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQ3SrH_3fsROXFAjomKcUtw***Music by Steve Blizin***Title music by Alex Aldea***Intro/Outro Narration by Joe Stofko Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

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Whether these stories truly happened or are simply fabrications is for you to decide. These stories may contain graphic depictions of violence and explicit language. Listener discretion is advised. Creepy Presents The 31 Days of Horror Day 31 Happy Halloween from the gas station

Written by Gas Station Jack With guest narration By Owen McCune Joe Stofco Megan McDuffey Steve Blizzin Sapphire Sandallow Jimmy Ferrer,

Alicia Atkins, and Nate Dufort. It started out with a single insect, no bigger than a tick-tac, with wings tucked beneath an olive-green shell that marched haplessly across the corner towards me, or more accurately towards a condensation ringer around the half-melted icy I'd forgotten on the counter. My mind registered the bug's presence a full three seconds before the proper reaction set in.

I looked down from the book I've been reading all afternoon, noticed the veered death in ant-like creature, and looked back in my book. Then, quite unexpectedly, since a panic, roundhouse kicked me in the face. I screamed, slammed the book down on top of the insect, and shouted to my co-worker. Jerry! Code Green! Get the cat! Jerry, who'd spent the last two hours sitting on a milk crate behind the counter watching clips from Rupal's drag race on his phone suddenly spring into action. I'm on it! He yelled as he dove over the counter, taking the attention.

entire powerball display with him and crashing on the other side. He hit the ground, bounce back up, and sprint into the dry storage room where I had painstakingly arranged number of emergency kits for such an occasion as this. I'm sorry. I should probably take a second to explain a few things. The gas station where Jerry and I work has been around for a long time, at least as long as the town it was built next to. It has a rich and complicated history that I won't bore you with.

But suffice to say that weird things happen here. More specifically, bad things happen here. I hate using the word cursed, but there have been so many deaths and dismemberments on company grounds that people around these parts refer to ambulances as gas station wagons. So you do the math. The previous owners didn't seem to care all that much about the tragic accidents that kept occurring under their watch.

At times I wondered if they were somehow in on it. If they were secretly observing the employees via hidden cameras like we're some kind of giant messed-up game of the Sims. Of course, things changed after the owner's bodies were found a few miles down the road under what can best be described as mysterious circumstances. With them, I did the picture, the burden of safety somehow fell upon my shoulders. I was determined to make sure nobody else ended up like the owners if I could help it. Admittedly, I may have dropped the ball a couple of times, but that's a story for later.

I was determined to learn from past mistakes and spent several weeks in hundreds, of overtime hours putting together the emergency response kits in the supply closet, each clearly marked the type of scenario it was meant to maintain. Now, I was ready for almost anything the universe could throw at me. There was a box for code blues, gasoline powered backup generator, CV TV radio, portable stove, blankets. I made a kit for code yellows, epipan, anti-venom, Cilocks powder, heavy-duty zip ties. I had a storage tub on the top shelf for any code pinks, bone saws, plastic drop cloths, contractor bags, disposable coveralls, and goggles. And, of course, should all hope finally be lost, there was a shoebox in there for code reds.

God help us if it ever comes down to a code red. Jerry ran out of the storage closet with a box labeled Code Green for emergencies only, in his arms, nearly slamming into Mr. Abram along the way. Hey, what the hell? Abram grunted. I met Jerry in the center of the room. No time to explain! I yelled, tearing into the box before he'd even dropped it to the floor.

The first thing to come out was a bulk-sized roll of duct tape. I tossed it into Jerry's arms and pointed at the front door. Get the cracks, the vents, the windowsills, and spider holes anywhere we're exposed to the outside. This place needs to be airtight. Aye, kitten! He sang before rushing to work. Abram shuffled next to me with a frown and furrow brow. Well, that kid almost made me spill my drink.

What, that Sam Hill has gotten in the indigent. you too. Mr. Abram was regular at the gas station, a thick man with a smoker-stained yellow beard and aviator bifocals. He worked for the waste disposal company in town as senior garbage truck operator. Once a week, he'd stop by the gas station on his way to the landfill to fuel up and grab a cup of coffee and a porno magazine. Time was precious, so I kept my answer brief. I saw him a fly. Abram dropped his coffee onto the floor and muttered quietly. Oh, mother of God. Maybe the little bastard hitched a ride on a customer's hair or clothes. Maybe an errant wind current separated from the rest of the flock.

It didn't really matter how it got here. All that mattered was the infestation of a gun. This was a harbinger of things to come. And time was not on our side. With Jerry on crack duty, save your jokes. I raced the back room and unlocked the circuit breaker box on the wall by the time clock. The sun hadn't set. We were still ahead of the game.

I killed all the electricity of the gas station one quick go. The static kiss from the overhead fluorescence died with the soft whimper. Soon the only light was what little spilled in from the evening sun, filtered through the countless trees of the forest surrounding us on all sides. The aluminum was bare, but enough for us to continue the tasks at hand. I returned to the cold green box with Abram lamenting loudly over our situation. I can't believe it's already been five years. Are you sure?

Are you sure it was a mayfly you saw and not just a leaf hopper or something? I retrieved a can of bug spray in a lighter from the emergency box, tucked him into my hoodie pocket, then pulled out a case of surgical masks. I equipped the mask and offered the case to Abram. He didn't hesitate to pull one out for himself. I was lucky he was a local. That meant I didn't have to waste any precious time explaining what was going on, and why this was so urgent.

He fumbled with the mask in his hands and worked his way through the denial stage of terror. Could it have been a trip or an aphid? I know what I saw. I'm pretty observant. I should have known the universe wouldn't let me get away with a statement like that. Excuse me? The unexpected voice in my ear made me jump. I spun around to see the dark shape of a person standing only a few inches away and blurted out the question.

Where did you come from? She answered. I've been here the whole time. What's going on? Was there a power failure? Can I still check out? I bent down and grabbed one of the two emergency flashlights and flicked it on, casting the room with an eerie red glow. Now I could see exactly who or what I was talking to.

She was my age, a couple inches shorter, with short blonde hair and at least ten piercings per ear. She had a black lace choker around her neck with a pentagram pendant dangling in front, and a leather jacket zipped all the way up. She also had orange and white stripes on her cheeks, a coal-black nose, two furry ears on top of her head, and fish-knit stockings. Whoever she was, she definitely wasn't a local. I instinctively took a step back and gripped a flashlight tighter.

in case I was about to need to defend myself. But the young woman wasn't attacking anyone. In fact, she looked as confused as I felt. You know things are bad when your first assumption is that you're being invaded by fox people. But these days, I can't really take any chances. Why do you look like that? I asked before I had time to realize how rude that sounded. I'm on my way to a Halloween party.

Why do you look like that? There's an emergency. She didn't seem impressed. What happened? Nothing yet, but something's about to happen. She crossed arms and gave me a look that said, I'm not buying it. Well, in that case, I think I should be on my way. Wait! I called out.

She turned back to face me, but didn't stop. She just took small steps backwards. Ever close to where Jerry was busily running lines of tape and sealing up her intended exit. Whatever's going on right now is not. Not my kind of crazy. You guys have fun playing space doctor, but I'm going to go. The next part went fast. Way too fast.

Abram rushed past me, reached out and grabbed her by the arm. Hey! She protested. Let go of me, you creep. Listen here, young lady, you're not going anywhere. Now, sit down and shut... In the last, Jerry was at her side. I heard the thwack and saw Abram cleaps on the floor before I realized that Jerry had

had butted the old man. She said, leg up. Herago. Abram held his bleeding nose in one hand and broken glasses in the other. He spat out angry curses from the ground, but the young woman's eyes were locked and wide-eyed amazement at Jerry. She rubbed her arm and said, Thank you.

That was incredible. Did it hurt? Jerry answered. Yeah, probably. Hey, old dude, did that hurt? Fuck you. Abram hissed. I was just trying to stop her from going outside.

She finally tore her gaze away from Jerry. Looked down at the man and asked. Why? I answered for him. It's not safe out there. Something's coming. She took a step away from everyone, but she didn't make a break for the door. Jerry turned to her and said,

Hey, if you want to go, we won't stop you. But if I were you, I'd listen to what Jack has to say. He's usually right about this kind of thing. Thanks, I said. She cut her eyes between the three of us, settling on me to ask. All right. Doctor, what's coming? I took a deep breath and explained.

In our town, once every five years, the bugs come. They swarm us by the millions. And clouds thick enough to block out the entire sky. They knock over trash cans, patio furniture, anything that isn't bolted to the ground. It got so bad last time that cows literally choked to death trying to breathe in the middle of it. It only lasts for one night before they all die.

Tomorrow, the sheets and yards will be covered with green slime like we were hit by Sherbert Snowstorm. She turned to Jerry and asked. Is he being serious? He answered. Serious as a clown having a heart attack. Abram was on his feet now with a surgical mask over his face. A red spot growing around the nose area as he taped his glasses back into one piece.

I've seen ten swarms since I was a boy, and I swear to God it gets worse every time. I don't know if it's global warming or if it's all the chemicals. They keep dumping in our creek. But these some bitches are getting stronger and meaner. Jack, are you at? absolutely certain it was a mayfly you saw? She laughed. Wait, wait, what? You guys are getting your panties into a bunch over mayflies? It's not really Mayflies. That's just what we call them.

It's October. We couldn't be any farther from May. Why do you call them Mayflies? She had a good point there. I took a second to reflect on this. Why did we all agree to such an obviously inaccurate nomenclature for this periodic shitstorm of biblical magnitude. Why didn't we call him something more appropriate like nightmare bugs or hell swimmers, or dicknats? I tried to think back to the first swarm I could remember. It was 15 years earlier, I was a child, and some men in suits came and talked to our elementary school class a day after the swarm. They stuck around for the entire school day, but my memories from that far back are seldom precise and hardly reliable. The only detail that really stuck with me was when the men insisted that we shouldn't

talk about the mayflies. We shouldn't mention them from anyone out of town, not even family. They explained that it was extremely rude to discuss mayflies, and if we ever brought out mayflies with an adult, they'd be very mad at us. I might have dismissed those memories as having been mangled through filters of childhood ignorance and time, but the men came back again five years later to talk to my high school class. This time, they're less interested in intimidation tactics and more interest in data mining. The handed out survey forms with questions like, Did you see the swarm?

Were you in the swarm? Were you bitten? Did the bite break skin? Did any of the mayfly remnants enter any orifice of your body? Do you know of any other residents who may have ingested mayfly remnants? After collecting our answers, men gave a short speech on mayfly safety. Never drive into a swarm. Stay inside and turn off the lights.

Don't touch or eat mayflies. Then they reminded us to never discuss Mayflies with anyone ever. As high schoolers, we had more important things to worry about than following up on mysterious bug experts. And at the time, five years felt like such a long way off before the next swarm. I honestly thought I'd have moved away before the next swarm hit. But here I was, two swarms later, nearly as unprepared as ever. The girl in the fox costume shook her head. I feel like you guys are screwing with me.

This had already taken up too much time. I needed to let everyone else know what was coming. I left Jerry and controlled the conversation and went to grab the store phone. He was always better at talking to people than I was anyway. While the rest of the room ping ponged between different versions of, I don't believe it and you better believe it, I dialed the sheriff's station, acutely aware of how sad it was that I already had the number memorized.

The state of affairs at the gas station had gotten so bad in recent years that the old town sheriff felt preventative measures were in order. he assigned one of his deputies to do twice daily check-ins. The burnout rate was higher than you might expect. We made it through six deputies since I started working there. And the most recent gas station babysitter, as we affectionately referred to them, suffered a random attack of temporary insanity his first week on the job. Last I heard they found his cruiser in Mexico a couple of days after his episode.

And the deputy himself is still officially missing in action. Compared to some of the others, I'd say it got off easy. but the new sheriff was still searching for someone to replace them. In the meantime, I had to dial a sheriff's station directly for any and all emergencies. I was convinced a woman in charge of answering phones hated me by now. And as it continued to ring, I had to wonder if she was screening the call. Or if there was another reason nobody could pick up the phone. Jerry slid up next to me and whispered.

Okay, dude, I've been talking to Lucy, and I think I've convinced her to stick around for the rest of the night. Lucy? The Fox. I looked over to see Lucy wearing a doctor's mask and holding the other emergency flashlight. She flicked it on and pointed the red light at the ceiling. Oh, cool. Good. But listen, before things get any crazier, there's something really important I need to tell you. And I hope you're not going to be mad.

I hung up the phone. It had been ringing for over a minute without any answer. What's up? I asked, sensing that I was not going to like the answer. Right then we heard the toilet flush. I pointed the red flashlight at the bathroom doors were creaked open, spilling a sliver of white light in the hallway.

A moment later a man emerged, without washing his hands, I might add, holding this phone in front of him with the bright white flashlight turned on. Hey y'all, what happened to the power? He looked out at the room, then added. Is this a costume party? He was thin, sporting blue jeans

and a navy polo a couple sizes too big. He had dark skin and beard stubble, confused expression on his face and a name-take pinned to his chest that read barked. It took me a second to recognize him as one of our alcohol vendors. At first, I was annoyed. This guy's presence meant I was going to have to explain the Mayfly history to another out-of-towner.

That concern was quickly leapfrogged by another more pressing issue. He was heading for the front door. Wait a second. Abrams said trying to step into his path. Bart sidesteped the old man with ease and grace like it was a rehearsed dance move, saying, Sorry, I have to get back on the road. Hang on! I shouted, but he wasn't slowing.

I'm behind schedule, and I have three more stops to make tonight. Wait! But he's already at the door. He pushed it, but the lock stopped it from opening. In one last bout of desperation, I pointed at him and yelled, Stop him! Jerry crossed the distance where Bart was awkwardly peeling away strip to duct tape. With a running start, he plowed into the vendor and tackled him into display of big pork glands.

Jesus! screamed Abram. I rushed over to Bart's side as Jerry dusted the crimson. off of himself. Why the hell did you do that? I yelled. What? You told me to stop him?

You didn't give me any context. I thought maybe he was stealing or something. Bart, reasonably, hadn't had the wherewithal to properly prepare for being knocked off his feet. He'd hit his head against a ground hard enough to leave a lump and ring his bell, but he was conscious. Growning and disoriented, but conscious. How many fingers am I holding up?

I asked. After a moment, Bart stammered. I don't know. Oh, God. I can't see anything. That's right. I forgot my flashlight next to the store phone. My phone barred cell phone underneath the pile of crushed pigskins and ripped bags.

I held my hand over the phone's light and tried again. How about now? Three? Three fingers? That's right. I said before turning off his phone's flashlight and stuffing into my pocket. You're going to be fine. Hey.

He sputtered. Hey, what are you doing? Abram answered for me. Can't let you turn on your phone. That goes for everybody. You all hear? No electronics. No game boys or gizmos.

No flashlights, but these. And they're attracted to white light. Part it seemed was going to make through without any lasting damage, so I turn my attention back to more important things. I need to find a way to get in touch with the sheriff and let her know. Right then we heard it. The low, piercing, continuous wine floating on the wind all the way from town. It sounded like the swan song of a dying touch.

and iry portent of things to come. No matter how many times I hear them, I will never get used to the tornado sirens. Abram chuckled. Sounds to me like she already knows. Damn, I was really hoping you were wrong about this. So was I. I, uh, sorry about Bill Goldberg, you. Jerry said, offering's hand to Bart.

The man on the ground hesitantly took it and let Jerry pull him to his feet. I still have to deliver... Bart wobbled. Jared grabbed him by both shoulders and stabilized him. What happened? Why is she a fox? Why are you both doctors? What hit me?

Is this pork rinds? What's going on? I sighed, then started. In our town, once every five years, the bugs come. By the time I finished experience, Planning it all for the second, and hopefully, last time, the mood of the room had drastically changed. Lucy and Jerry were sitting at a booth by the window, sharing a six-pack of white claw. Abram was leaning against a counter-rolling himself a cigarette, and poor Bart was back on the ground,

sitting cross-lucket, holding an ice bag against the back of his neck and staring out the duct-tape window at his delivery van on the other side. The only sound was a steady wail of the far-off tornado siren, the occasional slurp of a drink. Nobody's looking in my direction And part of me wondered if anyone was listening at all Or if I just retold the whole story for nothing Any questions? I asked Lucy perked up like the idea that just struck her was electrified Oh my God, what about the trick-or-treaters?

There aren't any. Our town outlawed that a long time ago. No offense, but your town kind of sucks said Bart. None taken. Look, if I don't get it. get these deliveries on time? I...

He didn't finish his sentence. Something stopped him. It was subtle, nearly imperceptible at first. Abram put away's rolling tobacco. Jerry and Lucy looked up at me. There was another noise, growing louder. We could feel it, and it was moving.

Fast. Coming for us. The ground shook like there was some kind of earthquake and we slowly, carefully, gravitated into a group by the front door. Morbid curiosity. propelling us upstream against common sense and wisdom. The sky outside was already dark,

but whatever light remained disappeared like a candle flame being snuffed out. Lucy pressed a flashlight onto the glass, and I did the same. The parking lot out front was ominously still. A delivery van and garbage truck at the edge of the lot, a single car about ten feet away, all bathed in red light, and then, all of a sudden, the dam burst. An enormous buck sprang out of the woods and across the lot, front of us, leaped over the hood of Lucy's car and continued into the woods on the other side of the

lot. Before we could react, two more deer sprinted into the lot, followed by four more. There was a stampede of them, running for deer life, trying to get away before it was too late. Crashing noises like trees falling over, drowned out the tornado sirens. There were booms and breaks, reverberations and tearing. And somewhere in the mix, animalistic screams. The edges of the door filled in like green ink spilling onto a glass table. The green skittered and flowed and combined and spread from one side to the other. Soon the only space free of bugs was a hole in the center, the size of a beach ball, then the size of a dinner plate, then the size of a penny.

Then the entire door was covered by a solid wall of millions of crawling green legs. brought was right behind my shoulder when he whispered give me my phone i want to film this abram didn't mince words i will kill you lucy pulled her flashlight away from the window reached into her pocket and retrieved her keys where are you going i want to check on something she pressed the button on her car fob before we could stop her the short beep of her vehicle marked the explosion of bugs from the front of the door all taking flight at the same time with a glass clear i immediately saw why She'd used her key fob to remotely engage her car's headlights, and for the briefest moments we all saw exactly how bad the swarm was. The worst blizzard in history had nothing on this. We were inside a green snow globe, inside a green dust storm, inside a celestial haze of green and black television static.

The insects flowed in pure chaos, churning like whitewater rapids, the only organization being a general frenetic attraction to the car, and in a matter of seconds, they had smothered her vehicle in layers thick enough to be light impenetrable. Oh my God. She said as bugs return to swallowing the glass door of the gas station. Is it always like this? No, I said honestly. This is much, much worse.

We stared at the shrinking window to the chaotic outside. Soon we'd be under green curtain again. Not like it mattered. This form is too thick to see anything. But still we watched for as long as we could. We stood shoulder to shoulder and watched until the glass was nothing but a squirming, breathing mass of green legs. We were going to be okay, I told myself.

We made it in time. The town was warned. All we have to do now, all we can do now, is waded out. Over the sound of the insect swarm, I heard one more thing. It sounded like a voice, like someone screaming. A hand slammed into the other side of the door, just as I realized what the other side of the door was. as I realized what the voice was saying. All the voices came at once,

crashing together in the chaos. I couldn't distinguish one from another. Shit! Get back! I don't know. Let them in. Jerry did what Jerry does. He sprung into action without thinking.

As he lunged for the door locks, I reached him in my hoodie pocket and pulled out a can of heavy-duty bug spray. I just found the trigger when the door burst open. I am for the dark green cloud flowing inside and let loose. More voices screamed over one another. Turn that off! Are you okay?

What are you? Get the light. Wait. Who are you? There's someone else out there. Jerry shoved the door closed and swatted his face until the clouds of bugs spraying Mayfyes collide it. Braying tiny green twitch and corpses all over us like snow flurries from hell. Live insects poured through the cracks of the door.

I continued to spray and they continued to die. More and more took their place in an endless stream. Why are they doing this? What are they after? Then it hit me. The gas station was lit up. I kept my finger pressed down on the bug spray, firing blind long enough to look back and see a new face inside our store.

The stranger was tall and skinny, donned all in black, tight pants and a turtleneck, an LED lantern in one hand, and a white unicorn mask surrounding the head. It all made sense now. The bugs weren't after us. They were coming for that bright light. This unicorn had brought them here to our gas station like the pipe,

Piper, a Hamlin. I added my voice to the chorus. Turn off that lantern! The unicorn ripped off the mask, revealing a dark-haired woman with a face full of more annoyance than fear. She completely ignored my request and yelled in an impressively loud voice that surpassed all the others. There was somebody behind me.

Jerry responded. Good somebody or bad somebody. A friend. All righty then. Again, Jerry acted fast and then I could stop him. unlocking and reopening the door. Another figure rushed inside, cladding with Bart knocking the poor guy onto his back all over again. In midst the mayhem, four more figures lunge past.

Killing me high, canning balling into the safety of the store, darting between our legs and over Bart's chest before we vanishing into the shadows. Great. The last thing I needed right now is another raccoon blitzkrieg, but here we were. Unicorn woman still hadn't extinguished her light and the mayflies were flooding in, forming an enormous, swirling cyclone of green, thick enough to send bags of food and candy flying from the top shelves. I grabbed the lamp and aimed as hard as I could, hard enough to free from a grasp, and launched it through the opening. I felt a whoosh of air as the legion of bugs in the store moved as one and chased the light outside

milliseconds before Jerry closed the door and locked it all over again. Closed the door. Are you okay? What the hell? That was my light. You idiots, shut up. Did you see that? I finally stopped lasting bug spray and went to try reapplying tattered strips of duct tape.

There's no time to lose. I needed to secure the door, check on her new refugees, and track down the four band of cats before they started setting traps. I was surprised when Lucy knelt down next to me with a roll of duct tape. She started tearing new strips, holding the red flashlight in her mouth and pointing it at her work while I took the strips and covered the lines at the door. The old strips hung messily and uselessly. He exposed Siky Side, completely covered in green wings, legs, and still twitching bodies. Jerry walked over a moment later with a broom and went to scooping the corpses into a mound in the corner right as Lucy and I finished up with the door. Nothing quite like a crisis to bring out teamwork, I guess.

With that out of the way, I turned to create our newest guests. Unicorn lady was picking bits of insect debris from her hair while the other figure stood still as a statue next to her. This one had a charcoal suit jacket matching pants, with a face hidden inside a giant turkey. Specifically, a plucked in raw turkey with eye holes carved into the breast section. Despite the impressive quality, I was reasonably certain that this turkey was just another bizarre Halloween mask. Like, 60% sure? You two okay? Turkey had asked in a muffled voice.

What the fuck is good? Unicorn grabbed him by a wing and said, You can take that off now. We're safe in here. With a quick yank, she deturkeyed him, revealing face of a handsome middle-aged man. He looked a little disheveled, glasses askew, hair a mess. But I could see that these were all products of the moment. Everything about turkey had screamed, rich businessman. I automatically didn't trust him.

Turkey had readjusted his glasses, smoothed over his hair, and straightened his tie. In three easy steps, he already. look presentable enough to host a party at the yacht club. When he spoke, was with a strong, sexy, leading man voice. I said, what the fuck was that? Are we in the end times right now? Somebody, please tell me what's going on. Abrams sized them up before answering.

Bugs were after your lamplight. What were you two doing out there anyway? Unicorn answered. I got off the interstate looking for gas, then these things started blobbing up all over my windshield, so I pulled over. Turkey had added, Same here. I was on my way to my partner's Halloween ball when the green thing started kamikazeing all over my windshield.

I saw Yen's car off the shoulder and tried hitting the brakes, but I hydroplained. There was enough of that green crap to slick the roads. I couldn't stop. Jerry cut the tip of his cigarette as he struck the lighter. After a quick puff, he asked. You weren't driving around with that turkey on your head, were you? Of course not. Would you mind not smoking in front of me?

Please. The suit costs more than your gas station. Terry didn't answer out loud. The way he slowly puffed his smoke and blew it out his nostrils was hints or enough. Unicorn, who I surmised was actually the yen being referred to, pointed out the obvious. Unless your suit is supposed to have green polka dots, I don't think it's worth that much anymore. The man looked at his sleeves and erupted in a fit of furious explicitives finishing with... God damn fucking shit!

This had better come out or else! Abram nudged Jerry and pointed at his pack. Jerry silently handed it over and let it form as Yan picked up the story. We were exchanging insurance information when the swarm descended on us. I was on my way to a costume party at my clinic, and I had some masks in the backseat that I thought would come in handy. The turkey was the only one that would fit Owen's big head. Lucy asked.

Why didn't you just stay in your cars? We heard someone. Owen interrupted. You think? He turned to me and reiterated his point. She thinks she heard something. I'm still not convinced. I heard anything.

Oh, come on, Owen. You know you heard him, too. For two people so recently thrust together by the whims of fate, Owen and Yen sure did sound like an old merry couple. I scanned the area with my flashlight hoping to spot a raccoon. When there were no signs, I accepted that the haunt was going to be an all-night affair. Turned my attention to my fellow bug swarm hostages and asked, What do you think you heard?

Yen answered. There was a man calling out. We were right around the bend down the street and heard him. screaming for help, so I grabbed my lamp and went to check on him. Owen scoffed and gave me a look like you wanted me to tell her that that was a stupid thing to do. She didn't even hesitate. Just plowed face first into a swarm of green. Naturally, I couldn't let a tiny thing like her get out on her own without any protection.

You know how people around these parts can be, especially on Halloween. Could have been a bunch of thugs and crackheads waiting for her. So I grabbed a mask to keep her. from breathing bugs and followed. Came around the bend but didn't see anything. That's not true. She corrected. We didn't see anyone,

but we did, however, see a motorcycle in the ditch. They went back and forth. There's no way of knowing how long it had been there. I think the motorcyclist is still out in the swarm. Well, if he had his helmet on, which is the law, by the way, then he's probably fine, laying low in the woods until the swarm is over.

You just don't want to go looking for, him. You're goddamn right, I don't. We barely made it here. I'd heard enough. Okay, guys, the important thing is that we're safe. Let's focus on that for now. We can hang out here, but no cell phones and no screens. By morning, those things will all be dead. Morning! Owen exploded. You expect me to stay here all night? He laughed irisively. You must have lost your goddamn mind. He brushed past me, saying, I need to make a phone call. Abram and Bart walked back to the front door,

where clusters of bugs were breaking loose, revealing spots big enough to offer a view of the outside. Yen took a seat at the booth table and crossed her arms, clearly agitated about something. Whether it was the bugs or Owen, I couldn't tell, and didn't particularly care. Lucy took the chance to have a private talk with her. As she offered you on a white clot,

Jerry putting her arm on my shoulder and whispered, Dude, I need to talk to you. I looked around one last time for raccoons, but we seem safer now. I whispered. What is it? Jerry licked his pointer finger and thumb, pinched out the cherry on his cigarette,

and said, I think there's something wrong with Abraham. I looked at the back of Abram's head, but Jerry stepped between us and said frantically, No, don't look at him. He'll know if you're looking at him. What are you talking about? I can't really explain it,

but I need you to trust me. We're not safe with him inside the store. Why not? Because that isn't really a. Abraham anymore. A shiver of dread the size of Texas ran down my spine. But I tried to keep it on the down low. I've suffered through enough robberies and other emergencies to know that outward panic rarely

makes a situation better. Okay. What are we doing with this time? Shapeshifter, plant people, doppelgangers, something else? I need to know exactly what it is so I can decide what an emergency kid to grab. Lucy walked up to Jerry's side, forcing us to put the conversation on hold for now. Hey guys. Hope I'm not interrupting anything.

No? I responded, searching for the right lie. We were just talking about... I hesitated a moment too long, but Jerry picked up the ball as soon as I dropped it. Ball gags. Oh, all right. She seemed surprised, but not really surprised enough, in my opinion. If she had any misgiving, she quickly dismissed them and said with a friendly smile.

Well, if your convo has reached a good stopping point, Yen and I wanted to see if either of you felt... like playing cards or something to pass the time. If we're trapped here anyway, might as well make the most of it, right? Owen screamed like you just been bitten by a wild animal. Lucy and I pointed our flashlights where he was standing at the other end of the room. He was doubled over, hugging his hand and continuing to scream. What is it?

Yen shouted. I've just been bitten by a wild animal. He screamed. Ha, that explains it. I had to prioritize my emergencies. and gas station raccoons were about two steps removed from dire wolves. For now, they had primacy. I crossed the room and circled the employee side of the coroner asking as I went,

which way did it go? I don't fucking know, but it bit me right in the arm. I found my trusty wooden baseball bat right where I left it, propped up next to the safe. Now equipped with a decent weapon, I felt like I might soon have controlled the situation. When I heard the other screaming over each other again, I knew I was wrong. Oh, my God!

Really, Owen? Where'd that come from? Don't point that thing at me. I kept the weapon down, hidden behind the counter until I could see what was going on. What was going on was this. Owen had pulled a handgun and was waving it around all willy-nilly. Lucy stepped forward and demanded he put the gun down. Owen escalated everything.

Shut up, and give me your flashlight. She stepped back and held the light behind her back, pointing it at the floor and turning herself into a black silhouette. I'll trade you. She offered. Give me the gun first. Don't test me. He growled. Something about his mood had changed.

He was already an asshole, but now he was a wounded asshole with a gun. I could only see things getting worse if I didn't get involved. Hey, Owen, take mine. He turned away from Lucy and eyed me incredulously. It's okay, I said, holding it out like an olive branch. I don't need it. I know this place like the back of my hand. I could walk around here, blindfoot.

folded if I needed to. He marched over to me, reached across the counter and snatched the light. As soon as he had it in his hand, he aimed at my face and barked, When this is over, I am going to sue the hell out of this place. Go ahead, I thought to myself. But there's really not much hell left in this place to sue. He shrank away from everyone and backed into the corner by the hot dog roller, gripping the gun and pointing it at the ceiling.

When his ass finally hit the drink case, he shouted a warning for all of us here. Nobody else come near me tonight, unless you feel like getting shot. This guy was on full tilt, boiling over with irrational fear rage. With a little time, you might calm down and see how silly an asshole as she was behaving. Or you might tick up a spot or two on my ever-growing mentalist depressing emergencies. Only time would tell. For now, I needed to reach the outside world.

I picked up the store phone into the sheriff again. This time, I dialed her cell phone directly inside. I finally hope that she was okay. Hello? She answered. Amy, it's me. I have caller ID. What's going on?

I get your voices in the background. Lots of them. They sounded like cries and screams. Are you okay? Where are you? I'm at the church's fall festival right now. Those screams. They almost sounded like laughter.

Did everyone get inside in time? In time for what? I couldn't believe how relaxed she sounded. Well, not relax. Quite annoyed, actually, but definitely not panicked. The Mayflies. You mean those green bug things? Yes!

Look, sleepy, it's Halloween. This is the busiest night of the year for us. I've got pranksters tying up phone lines, teenager smashing pumpkins, drunk drivers galore. We're not exactly getting worked up over a bunch of bugs. I mean, yeah, they're a little annoying, but... You mean they're not blocking out the sky and carrying away small children? Because that's what's happening over here at the gas station.

Have you been outside recently? I'm standing outside right now. Hang on. Did you call me because there are a bunch of bugs at the gas station? I don't think you realize what I'm saying. It's bad here. This is so thick that our buildings completely covered in a shell of the things. Is anyone hurt? One customer got bit by a raccoon.

And there might be a motorcyclist trapped out in this. Okay. Do you want me to pull an officer to do a drive-by? I literally don't think you could get here if you tried. Okay. Well, why exactly are you really calling? I told you! The bugs are swallowing the gas station.

Are you sure? What? Are you sure you're not just having another episode? I felt like someone sucker punched me in the gut. I'm sure, Amy. You know, there was a time when you were to believe me right away. Yeah, and there was a time when people believed the world was flat. Tell you what?

Send someone out first thing in the morning. I knew this was the best I could get. Okay, but send the snowplow first. The roads are going to be slick. Roger that. With our conversation ended, I had a decision to make. Should I tell the others what I knew? That this monsoon of bugs was somehow isolated or a gas station and nor else in town?

Something told me to keep this back to myself for now. No reason to worry anyone. I looked out at the room and tried to get a headcount, but it was nearly impossible to see anything. Not surprisingly, Owen was a selfish light bearer. Where Lucy and I had attempted to keep our flares steady against the floor ceiling, the businessman is only interested in shining his light wherever he was looking, moving in a slow, steady sweeping motion from one into the store to the other.

It would seem it would refocus his energy and attention on the hunt for what bit him. I was going to have to figure out some way to find the raccoons first if I wanted to prevent any unnecessary gunfire. I knew from experience how much of a painer was to patch bullet holes. His erratic light job may have been annoying, but it left me with one clear advantage. I always knew when he was watching me, and when he wasn't. I took my baseball bat and snuck over to the only communal light source in the room, the booth table where Lucy and Yan were now seated.

The second red flashlight was propping the table between them, aiming straight up. I kept my voice low and asked, Do you mind if I borrow the flashlight for a moment? I've got some experience with raccoons. I might be able to herd them into the closet or something. Yen was quick to respond. What about us? Are we supposed to just sit here in the dark while you go hunting?

I know it's not ideal, but... Lucy made the decision for both of them. She grabbed a flashlight and handed it over. Be careful, but also be quick. Yen scoffed, but by this point I didn't particularly care about making new friends. Equip with a flashlight and a weapon in my inventory, I was ready to begin my search. First off, I needed to find Jerry. A quick scan of the tiny building showed no signs of him.

Strange. More unsettling. It showed no signs of Bart or Abram either. How long it had been since I saw any of them? I had to stifle the completely irrational fear that perhaps the raccoons had already disappeared them. As much as I wanted to keep it bottled up, the worry was bubbling over. Something isn't right.

I entered the hallway leading toward the back room, keeping the red light trained in a tight circle in front of my feet and whispering Jerry's name. Eventually, I came to a supply closet where I found the door cracked open a few inches. I aimed the light through the gap and saw Jerry sitting on the floor inside, resting with his back against the wall of shelves. I pushed the door open, stepped inside, and closed it behind me. He barely moved. This light shift in his eyes was all he did to acknowledge my presence. I could see that he'd found himself a marker and had drawn a Glasgow smile onto his face mask,

complete with triangle teeth and curled edges. Jerry, you okay? I crouched in front of him, but he no longer. seemed to be aware that I was in the room. I slowly reached out and pulled off the mask. Underneath, he had a bizarre, relaxed smile, not unlike the one from his mask, like he was sitting at the beach on his first day of retirement. It was nirvana in the flush.

I was moderately concerned. What are you doing in here? Being, existing, riding out the wave. His pupils were dilated to the point that he appeared to have solid black circles inside his eyes. Okay? He kept those black eyes aimed forward and cocked his head. Relax, Jack.

It'll all be over soon. I felt my skin erupt in goosebumps. This didn't sound like the Jerry I knew. And considering what the Jerry knew had told me moments earlier, I had to wonder if I was about to need to use my bat on some kind of imposter. Was this the same creature that Jerry intimated or replaced Abram? Was this something else?

I needed to know. Jerry, you said something earlier. I think now's probably a good of time as any to follow up. You said there was something important that you needed to tell me. I did. I do. There's something I need to tell you, and it's this. The universe isn't a solid hole. It's a broken, fluid arrangement of hyperplasmic particles shaped like time.

I thought space was fixed, but I figured it out. It's a vibration. Everything that's going to happen tonight has already happened, and you and I are experiencing it in accordance with our life songs. Nothing is real, except for when it is. It doesn't have to be if you don't want it to. He wiped a tear from his eye. Sorry, dude, I don't mean to cry, but it's so hunking beautiful.

I rose to my feet and took a step back, trying to calculate where this was going to fit into my mental list of pressing emergencies when I heard the blood-curdling scream from the other side of the closet door. I gave Jerry one last check to make sure he was okay. He was still smiling, so whatever, close enough. Then I opened the door and stepped into the hallway. The inn was on the floor next to the open bathroom, holding the other flashlight and screaming. Owen stood over with his gun. The moment he saw me, he started screaming too. Stop right there!

Put the weapon down! What is it? Owen pulled back the hammer of the pistol as Yan screams weakened into a whimper. I said drop it, or I will fucking shoot you! Okay! I said complying as quickly as I could. Lucy appeared from the darkness behind Owen. What?

What is it? One look inside the bathroom was enough to make her gasp and recoil. Owen bent over and took the light from Yan, then pointed it at me. Where are the others? He demanded. I'm not playing around. Who did this? Who did what?

What's happening right now? Yen managed to catch her breath enough to say. I needed to go to the bathroom. Owen let me borrow the light, but as soon as I went in there, I saw. I saw. She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. She just pointed. I kept my hands up and inch closer,

hoping to keep my movements telegram. and non-threatening for the man with the gun. Eventually I was close enough to see inside the bathroom, close enough to see the body slumped in the corner, surrounded by a pool of blood. In the red light, I recognized Abram. His dead eyes wide open, with a handle of a fillet knife protruding from the center of his chest.

Three, it didn't take long for Owen to establish that he's in charge. Part of me was thankful to handle responsibility in a time like this, but I couldn't ignore the glaring fact that Owen was the kind of a guy who didn't know just how much he didn't know, and his false sense of complete competency was almost certainly going to make matters worse. He ordered everyone into the front of the store for the start of his investigation. Jerry came along quietly and peacefully, we found Bart laying low in the back office by the time clock.

One of the mischief cats made a surprise appearance, but scrambled on top of the drink case and disappeared before Owen could line up and take a shot, which only left the man even more furious. Deep down? I was secretly rooting for the raccoons. With all the remaining live victims in one place, Owen took my flashlight and stood guard at the booth while the five of us sat quietly awaiting our new fearless leader's plan. Ian and Lucy said on one side, I took the aisle seat, Jerry the Wall, with bark crammed between us.

Owen began. All right. First things first. Which one of you did it? His interrogation skills left more than a little to be desired. When no confessions were immediately forthcoming, He continued. That's all right.

We'll figure it out. In the meantime, nobody's going anywhere. His light was shaking. My dad told that his brave and cocky persona was a little more than a bluff. He needed help, which I tried to offer. Maybe we should call the authorities and tell him what happened. As soon as I started speaking, I blinded me with this light. He held it there until a few seconds after I stopped.

Perhaps he was taking time to consider my suggestion, or maybe you should be a little bit of my suggestion, or maybe you're not. Or maybe he was just letting this amount of power go to his head. Finally, he lowered the light and said, Yeah, okay. Let's call the cops. But, I don't trust any of you. Shook the flashlight at my side of the table. Yen, you and the orange mouse girl were sitting right there when it happened. So, I know neither of you were the killer.

Take this. He gave you on the spare flashlight. Go call 911. Tell them where we are. Tell them a man is dead And that I've got to narrow down to three suspects As Yan made her way to the store phone I tried to explain

Actually 911 doesn't work in this town You have to call the sheriff's department Dude Bart said forcefully Your town really sucks Yeah I know You three shut up Snap the man with the gun

We're going to get to the bottom of this One way or another Owen Yen called out to note of fear lining the edge of her voice. Yeah. The films are dead. Of course.

Of course the night is unfolding like this. Why should I even be surprised that this is happening all over again? What? He left us in the dark and headed towards Yon. As soon as he was out a whisper range, Lucy leaned forward and quietly asked. Okay, guys, what's really going on? I leaned forward to whisper back. I legitimately do not know.

Is there someone else in here with us? Possibly. I heard the deep breath she took before asking. Did one of you kill that man? Jerry answered. I think it's more than reasonable to assume that the raccoons did it. Thankfully, Jerry sounded like his old self. It felt good to have him back.

But I wasn't about to forget how he had just fugue stated in the supply closet. Was that some kind of temporary insanity? Possession? There were too many possibilities, and not enough time for me to form a good plan. Owen was back before I knew it. All right. Let's work this out. You. Delivery guy.

Where were you when that man was stabbed? Bart's answers were a matter of fact. I was hiding. Why? I saw a gun come out. I don't get paid enough to take a bullet. I won't flick the light at me. What about you?

I don't get paid enough to take a bullet. You know what I mean, smart ass. I made a phone call. Then I went to see if I could find the raccoons. Interesting. He said, turning that simple word into an implicit accusation. How is that interesting? The phone was sabotaged.

Someone cut the line out of the wall, and it looks like they used a knife to do it. You're saying you were the last one to use the phone. Is it really possible that the killer waited for you to hang up, slice the cable, then snuck past you and killed the old man? I shrugged. Owen kept it up. He was wearing one of those stupid face masks, but he was already bloody when we first got here. What's the story behind that?

Jerry laughed. Oh, that was me. He was acting a fool so I cracked his face chimney like a boss. Owen turned the light onto Jerry, who at some point pulled his own sharp-tooth smiling mask back up over his face. Owen asked, Are you prone to violin outbursts? Bart chimed in.

Come to think of it, you... did tackle me pretty hard. Thank you. Jerry responded. I could see which way the winds were blowing, and I didn't like it. Jared had been acting strangely for most of the night, but I knew him well enough to know that he was innocent. I also knew him all enough to know that he was the worst person to advocate for his own innocence. Owen.

Yen called. What? Take a look at this. He left us once again to join the woman standing in the center of the room with the flashlight pointed at the cold green box. I don't like this. Lucy whispered. That guy is unhinged.

He shouldn't be in charge. Bart leaned forward and put his head in his hands. This is so fucked. I just want to go home. What about the rest of your shift? I asked trying to keep the mood light. There is no rest of the shift, man. I just said that so you guys would let me get out of here.

Everybody I work with knows the rules. This is what I get for breaking them. This was another unexpected curveball. What do you mean? This gas station is always at the end. end of the route. When I started working, everybody told me the same thing about this place. Get in and get out. Never start a conversation with the workers, never stay any longer than necessary, never go to the bathroom. I get paid double to run this route because no one else

wants to do it. I just assumed it was because this gas station is in the middle of Klan country. Now I'm sitting here waiting for Mr. Good Guy with a gun to decide my fate. For real, fuck this town and everyone in it. Hey, Owen yelled. No talking. Yes, sir, boss. Bart shouted sarcastically. We sat in somber silence until he returned to the table with a box in his hands and he

him by his side. He reached inside the kit, pull out a pack of surgical masks, and dropped them on the table. It appeared as if someone had taken a knife to the pack, slicing holes through the lot of them. Someone is sabotaging our supplies. Jan asked. Who would do something like that? And why? I don't know.

Owen answered. But I intend to find out. They both immediately turned around and pointed their lights at the sound of something crashing loud to the ground. Whatever it was, it came from the bathroom. Go check that out. Owen said. Are you crazy?

Yen answered. That's where the body was. You go check. And leave the killer unguarded. Owen looked at her, then at us, then at the bathroom, then at the gun. With a short sigh, he made the difficult but responsible decision to hand his weapon over to Yan while he courageously went to check on the noise by himself. I'm just kidding.

Can you imagine? Nah. Instead, Owen decided to go for the asshole of the year award by ordering me out of the booth to be his literal human shield. As we left the others behind, he promised the group he'd shoot anyone who tried anything funny. Then, with the barrel of his gun stabbing me in the back, we went to check on the noise. I clocked the baseball bat still sitting on the ground in the hallway. where I dropped it. But even if I was crazy, you'd have to make it go for it, the weapon was on the other side of the bathroom. As we approached the door, Owen pulled a gun out of my back

and rested on my shoulder, then shoved me forward with his elbow. He stayed right behind me as the flash height reached the inside of the bathroom. Just as I had suspected, the culprits were fattened furry trash pandas. There were only three of them, which was somehow way scarier than all four of them. He had evidently torn the soap dispenser from me. the wall, the source of that crashing noise, and a rather impressive feat on its own. It was leaned over, from paws in the soap bubble, lapping it up by the mouthful. Gross, but not nearly as gross as the other two raccoons, the ones hunched over in the corner greedily licking the puddle of human blood.

As if blood-hungry raccoons weren't bad enough, I noticed that something important was missing from this picture. Or, I guess, someone. The body of Abram was nowhere to be found, and, and, and, I noticed, and I noticed that something. I was nearly positive that these animals couldn't have carried him off on their own. Del moved in perfect unison, licking the floor, suddenly stopping once they realized they were being watched, slowly lifting their heads,

slowly turning to face us. Hey guys, I said with a wave. Did any of you see the body of a bearded man? The animal sprung at us feet first. Owen shook me to the ground and screamed. His light hit the floor, bounced against a wall and started spinning. given the hallway an intense strobe light effect. What is it?

Oh my God! Are you okay? Look out! For some inexplicable reason, the others decided to be a good idea to rush towards us. Oh, and scream like a baby, and then... Shit, what's that? Oh, my God! The room smelled like gunfire.

A raccoon jumped onto my lap and launched itself down the hallway. Owen cursed and picked up the flashlight and cursed some more. Then he aimed it at me. Then he aimed it back at the others. Then my blood ran cold. Oh, my God. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Hold your hand right here.

Shit. Come on. Come on, now, put pressure over the wound. Yeah, and Lucy and Jerry were all standing over Bart. He was on his back, staring up at the ceiling, blood on his hands and all over his polo shirt. Owen turned away from them and pointed the flashlight back at me. God damn. He muttered.

Yen shouted his name. Owen, shine the flashlight over here. He waited a few seconds, took a loud breath, and did so. Bart's eyes were rolling back in his head. Jerry had his hands clamp firmly over the wound on Bart's stomach. Lucy had specks of blood all over her face. Yen stood up and shouted. We need gauze and a medical kit.

Whatever you have, please, right now. As I pushed myself back to my feet, Owen blurted. He came right at me. You all saw it. He came running straight for me. His voice ticked up an octave. Why did you do that? I warned you.

Didn't you hear me? You all heard me tell him to stay back. And he ran, Right at me. I shopped open the door to the supply closet. In the complete dark of the room, I was forced to navigate my memory. I reached for the space where the code yellow kits should have been, grabbed the whole box, and brought it to the hallway.

When I hit the ground next to the other, zone was still blathering. It's not my fault. It was an accident. He came charging at me. Does he have a weapon on him? Lusie snapped at him with a venom in her words. What? Check his pockets. He probably has a weapon.

He was probably... Shut the fuck up. He did. For now. I handed the supplies over to Yan, who apparently knew her way around a med kit better than me. As she ripped open the bag of clotting powder with her teeth, I asked,

Are you some kind of doctor or something? Or something. She said. Following it quickly with instructions for Jerry to move his hands. She stayed working for it felt like forever. It was probably only about 30 seconds. I couldn't really watch. Not because I was bothered by violence, but because I was steadily recalculating my chances

of getting to that baseball pat without Owen noticing. She put her hand to Bart's neck, presumably to check his pulse, then announced. We need to get him to a hospital right now. Okay. Okay. Jerry said, popping to his feet. I'll make a run for Lucy's car and bring it right up to the door. I probably got the best night vision and the most experienced driving the dark without headlights. Lucy, key me.

Owen immediately shot down that. idea like it was an innocent alcohol vendor. Oh, no, you're fucking not. Lucy stood and took a step forward, only stopping when Owen pointed the gun right at her. What is your problem? We still don't know who killed the man. I'm not letting a murderer out of my sight. You...

He pointed the gun at Jerry. And you... He pointed the gun at me. Get up. Move over here. He heard it as in the hallway with his weapon, leaving Bart clinging precariously to life. Yen tried to reason with him. Owen, we don't have time for this.

We need to. to get help. I... I can't. I can't let them out of my sight. His gun was shaking wildly. The one pointed right at me. The one with a finger on the trigger?

Jerry's voice was noticed with calmer than the situation deserved. With bloody poems extended forward, he said... Hey, dude, relax. Nobody here thinks you're an incompetent man-baby with a gun. We're all going to be like the Fonz, okay? And you know what the Fonz is? He's cool. You know what's cooler than cool?

The cooler. Yeah, like that walk-in cooler. What? He snapped. Why don't you put Jack and me inside the walk-in cooler? Then you can take that chair behind the counter and barricade us inside. We do it all the time whenever we need to detain people until the cops arrive. Right, Jack?

That way you know you're safe. And you can hand that gun over to someone with better aim and used the CB radio in the supply closet to call for help. I was shocked by how completely reasonable the plan sounded. One's hand was shaking a little less now. Well, it's not the worst idea. Just do it! yelled Yen.

All right. He relented. But no funny business. Jerry laughed. It's a walk-in cooler. What kind of trouble can we possibly get into in there? I really hate it when Jerry says stuff. like that.

It's almost like he's straight up daring the universe to screw with us. As soon as a cooler door shut behind us, all sound and light went away. For a moment I felt like I'd entered a sensory deprivation chamber. But soon my ears acclimated and I could hear my coworker breathing. I hope you have some kind of plan. The room lit up temporarily as Jerry lit a cigarette. His toothy smile mask was down around his neck like a scarf. A moment later the room returned to black, save for the tiny reds.

glowing ember at the tip of his smoke. Nah, that was my whole plan. Get that guy calmed down enough to stop shooting for a second. Phase one was a success. You're the smart one. Why don't you come up with the rest of it? Well, I said working through the puzzle out loud. Unfortunately, there's no way to break out of here.

Walls are eight inches thick, which means they probably can't even hear us out there. Even if we did manage to break out, the debig would probably shoot us the second he saw us. I hate to say it, but this might actually be the best thing we can do. Just sit here and hope help arrives in time to save Bart. He took a puff, then said. Bart's a goner.

You don't know that. Trust me, I saw the wound. He's got another five minutes at most. It's really too bad. I like that guy. I didn't know what to say. So I said nothing. Jared said all he needed to say, so he also said nothing.

When the cigarette was gone, we stayed in silence and told us something scraped across the floor on the other side of the cooler. I almost didn't want to ask. What was that? You heard it too, huh? Hey, Jerry. Yeah? I almost forgot to mention this. But when I looked inside the bathroom...

Yeah? Abram wasn't there anymore. Oh, don't worry. That wasn't actually Abraham. It wasn't? No. Then what was it? Well, it's kind of hard to explain.

We heard another scrape. This one's slightly louder and slightly closer. Jerry? Yeah? Is there something you wanted to tell me? Oh, right. About that. Another scrape, only a few feet away.

Are we in danger right now? Yes. Yes, we are. I reached into my hoodie pocket and inspected my inventory. I had a lighter and a lighter and a car. can of bug spray, which meant I had an emergency flamethrower. I also had Bart's cell phone, which meant I had a flashlight. This was quite the dilemma.

How to proceed. Jerry, I'm about to turn on a flashlight. Should I just accept that there's another ridiculous jump scare waiting for us the moment this room is lit up? That would be a fair assumption. Okay, then. Let's do this. I turned on the flasher.

and held it out in front of me. A few feet away from us stood the unicorn. More specifically, a man wearing the unicorn mask. A man with a smoker stained yellow beard poking out from underneath. A man who looked an awful lot like Abram. He stood upright, gazing into our souls with the unicorn eyes. Copious amounts of blood staining the front of his shirt and the handle of a filet knife protruding from the center of his chest. Come on man, you do it.

I argued. No way. You're already missing a finger. You do it. Jerry argued back. How does that make me more qualified to pull off his mask? I'm just saying if he bites you, you've got a little less to lose. Well, maybe it's your turn to lose a digit.

We've been standing in the cooler for about five minutes, bickering back and forth. The blood-soaked thing in the unicorn mask had been right there with us the whole time, standing completely still like it was some sort of a mix-and-match Halloween decoration. The phone battery was getting low. And the last thing I wanted was to be stuck in the dark with whatever this was. Jerry and I both agreed that it would be a wise course of action to remove the mask and see what we were dealing with. We disagreed on how to do it. All right.

Jerry said, letting yet another cigarette. How about this? We play paper, rock scissors. Loser has to remove the mask. No way. Why not? Because you always pick rock. You've never not picked rock.

and if we play and I beat you and then you remove the mask and get your hand bitten off, I'm going to feel really guilty. Oh, thanks. How about we just pull it off together on the count of three? All right. We both crept closer to the unicorn. It stayed perfectly still. Together we reached out and grabbed the mask by either side.

Okay. On the count of three. Okay. I took a deep breath. Mar was beating like crazy. I didn't know what to have. expect, but no matter what it was, I was not ready. Regardless, I started to count.

One... Three! Jerry yelled, ripping off the mask. We both took a step back. Oh. It was probably the least surprising thing possible. Just good old Dad Abram. Lipsily parted, eyes wide open, face pale, and devoid of life.

Jerry sounded almost disappointed. Well, that was stupid. I tried talking to the dead man, even though I knew that wasn't going to work. Hey, Mr. Abram, can you hear me? A low croak escaped his mouth. At least I thought it wasn't going to work. What did he just say? Jerry dropped a cigarette onto the floor and stomped it out.

I think he said, to blave, that mean anything to you? Abrams had cocked back slightly as another hoarse noise began spilling out of his throat. The sun was somewhere between an annoyed cow and an angry frog.

A rancid smell like vinegar and onions filled the air. Jerry visibly gagged and pulled his mask back over his mouth. Feel better? He asked Abram. I wasn't expecting a response. In fact, I was very much hoping there wasn't going to be a response.

But sure enough, our response we had. It felt like he was sounding out the words of the macarena, very, very slowly. To my ears, it was just creaky gibberish. But then hand gestures got involved. The Abramomination lifted both hands up to the handle of the knife and wrapped all his fingers around it. I thought he was going to pull it out.

But I was wrong. He continued to mumble hard syllables as he forced a knife downward, ripping his chest wide open and spilling wet, gooey intestines all over the floor in a steaming pile. Green dots the size of sugar ants scared it forth from inside his open wound cavity, filling the air with a swarm of infant green mayflies. The knife reached the bottom of his beer belly, but it was only a short snag. The thing continued to disembowel itself, cutting straight down through the belly and causing the pants to follow the ground. More and more of those bugs dropped or crawled out of the same. them. Some were even flying out directly. At this point, I realized to my dismay that the guts on the

floor were squirming, rich with life with those baby insects. It seemed that Abram's blood was thick and lousy with mayfly larva. I didn't even realize we were moving away until our backs hit the cold door. I kept my eyes on Abram as I banged down the door as hard as I could. My hair was itching now. Those baby mayflies were landing on me, crawling into my nose and ears and getting caught my eyelashes. Whenever they piled too thick over the phone, I'd flick my wrist and sent a miniature green dust cloud into the air

that hovered and remassed and settled onto the phone again. Only when the knife had gone as far as Abram could push it, did I realize I needed to start doing something if I didn't want to end up like him? Or worse. I brought out a can of bug spray and yelled out, Hold your breath and started blasting.

The amassment of Green died on impact, plummeting to the ground in thick clumps like wool being sheared from the sky. As I died, the body of Abrams seemed to react, launching his head back and screaming in a voice like a fork scraping against a glass plate. The noise ended abruptly as a lump the size of a gumball pressed against his neck from the inside, working its way up from the stomach

until it emerged from Abrams' open mouths. I stopped spraying. The game had just changed, and I didn't want to play anymore. I turned around and being down the door with enough force to bruise my hands, elbows, and one of my knees. But I knew it was all for not. They couldn't hear us out there, and the door was not opening until someone on the other side deemed it so. I slowly turned back to face what was waiting. The thing had started evacuating from Abrams' mouth.

Both three inches of needle legs, green, Armadillo's scales and two bulging eyes crawled up Abrams' face. I knew it! What? What did you know? How could you possibly know? The legs operated in waves like those of a millipede. When the entire half foot of horror had finally emerged, left Abrams' mouth to the sound of a wet thunk. The old man's empty shell instantly went ragdoll and collapsed in a heap on top of his guts. And the demon millipede rolled into a ball and launched itself towards us.

Jerry went left, I went right. The phone escaped my grip, and the light hit the floor. I heard the millipede a ram into the door and bounce off. Then I lost track of it. Jerry screamed, Whoa! There! And pointed.

I turned just in time to see it scaling the wall before leaping at me. Suddenly, the floor whipped out from under my feet, and I hit a pile of human debris asked first. It accidentally slipped in a puddle of Abram, and not a second too soon. The green bug whizzed over my head. Great. Yonks! Jerry yelled.

I looked up to see that the millipede had landed and attached itself onto him at stomach level. Not great. I got to my feet and I decided as quickly as I could. But the millipede had already climbed about a half foot into Jerry's body. I tried to get a hold, but the way it moved made it impossible. Each time a leg landed, the tips hooked into Jerry, threw his shirt and into his flesh. Every time I pulled, I was pulling a hundred needles. Each step I took like one hole and made another.

It crawled up Jerry's chest and neck, leaving a trail of countless bleeding pinpricks. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Jerry said, streaming's eyes to watch the thing that had just passed his chin. I pulled out the lighter, flicked it on, and held a flame against the green shell. But there was no effect. Oh, oh, shit, shit, shit. What's you doing now? Oh, oh, gross, gross, gross.

The millipede stopped and perched on top of Jerry's face mask, almost like it was trying to figure out what was looking at. I'd run out of good ideas by this point, so I just went with brute strength, grabbed the millipede by its head and ate. I may as well have grabbed a broken glass bottle. The teeth and jaws or whatever I touched, ripped the flesh off my palm down to the bone. I instinctively fell out the ground and hugged my hand as it squirted blood with enough force to make me consider doing something serious about my blood pressure if I somehow survive the night. I snapped out of it and played through the pain. Jerry was going to need help if... The millipede used his front two legs to claw it to slice a perfect slit over Jerry's mask.

Then proceeded to crawl down his fucking throat. He lurched forward on his hands and knees, wincing hard for at least a minute. Then he started exhaling and forceful spurts like he was working up a hairball. Jerry? Are you... Are you okay? He spattered a long, slimy stream of blood. Then made a noise that sounded like...

He lifted his head and looked at me. Through the tattered mask, I could see a real smile on his face. Jerry? His sounds turned into laughter. Jerry? His laughter turned into a cackle. Jerry! He stood up.

He wasn't looking at me anymore. And when he spoke, bloody spittled frothed out from his mouth. Yeah, you don't like that, do you, bitch? What's going on? Oh, I'm sorry. Is that inhospitable to you? Jerry punched himself in the stomach. How's about now, huh? He punched himself again.

Yeah, how that's right, Vyotch. This is my house. Ain't nobody burning it down except for me. He lurched forward and hit the ground. They were able to get his hands out in front of him in time to stop from cracking up his face on the floor. A huge splattering of red and green expelled from his mouth like we were in the exorcist.

The projectile vomit coated the floor, and in the center of the slop was the writhing body of the millipede. It flinched around a few times and formed a ball and rolled away into the corner. Jerry! Are you even fucking alive right now? Have you Have you seen

My cigarettes? I could really go for a smoke right about Holy fuck Jack, it's on your sleeve! What? I looked down and saw the fucking Hellspawn Millipede racing up my arm. I grabbed at it, but the moment my fingers touched, the asshole latched in the needle legs.

It hurt a lot worse than Jerry's reaction made it seem. But I suppose this tattoo collection probably gave him a better frame of reference for this kind of pain. If I had to think of something to compare it to, I'd say, imagine being stabbed by a thousand needles over and over again. Yeah, there's really nothing comparable. Jerry pulled off his belt and flung it around the neck of the creature, as he pulled the needles torn into his skin.

He pulled again, hard enough to knock me off the rounds. I hit the ground all over again, and the damn thing just deepened its grip. It was at my shoulder. The eyes staring right at my mouth. Blood, vomit, and bile dripping from its wet shell. Jerry tried to yank again, but this time the bug just clawed the belt in the half. As Jerry tumbled at the ground, I realized I was all out of luck. The needle stabbed into my neck.

Then my chin. I clenched my teeth together as tight as I could. Tight enough that I was certain it'd shatter if I kept it up. But the millipersed. He didn't let me. It extended a pair of front legs and sliced the mask off my face. Then, with two more legs, they cried open my lips. Then, with several legs, it grabbed hold of my front teeth and forced open my mouth.

Jerry sat up and looked right at me as the thing plunged into my mouth and down my throat faster than I could bite. Dean ripped into me from everywhere. That was a close call, but I made it. It shouldn't have been so close. It's never been this close before. Is it getting sloppy in my old age? No, he's hosts.

There's something wrong with them. They're not normal. Wait, hang on. What? Jerry helped me to my feet. Jack, listen. Can you hear me? Yeah? It's gonna be okay. Okay?

Did I just swallow a monster bug? These reaction times are pathetic. What's going on with his leg? At least this is inhabitable, but how can I hear anyone with these weak hands? Wait, I know. I just need to find that knife. I looked around for the knife that Abron had stabbed himself with, but... Wait, why was I looking for Abram's knife?

And how did I know that Abram stabbed himself? Well, because I was there, of course. I was inside April when it happened. No. I waited until I had all the food together in one place. Then I went to begin the harvest night. I needed my children to have something to eat when the time was ready, though. Wait.

No, none of that made sense. Whose memories are in my head right now? Jerry put a flask into my hand. Look, dude, here's the thing. I know you're fighting for control of your mind right now. But if there's any of you left in there, you gotta drink this. What's in it? It's the reason she couldn't live inside of me.

No fucking way. Throw that shit down right now. Do not drink it. I don't want to drink it. Good. Then don't drink it. I wasn't planning on drinking it. Good.

Great. I'm glad we're in agreement. Lovely. I opened the flask and threw it back. The whole time I went down my throat, I could hear two different voices in my head, screaming at me that this was a bad idea. I knew they were both right.

Sometimes bad ideas are the only ones we have. As I drained the flask, I realized that the mystery drink was not as, shall we say, lethal, as most of Jerry's concoctions. Just tasted like soap and sugar and a little more. When it was finally done, I dropped it onto the floor. Jerry laughed, but it wasn't his normal laugh. It wasn't showing off how cool I am laugh, or I just thought of a funny laugh, or even the, whoops, I didn't mean to send you a dick-pick laugh. It was a nervous, concerned laugh.

Wow. You drank the whole thing? Was I not supposed to? No, no, that's fine. I'm just impressed. Why? It didn't taste that alcoholic? It...

It... It wasn't alcohol. I felt red-hot pangs shooting through my intestines. What is this? What are these things called anyway? People? How can I possibly be losing this mind? The plan until after I disconnected.

If I wanted to kill this one now. All I had to do was shreds morgans. It could be done in a matter of seconds. His bodies are so frail. But this fire... This fire can bear it for a little moment. I fell onto my knees, embraced for what I knew was coming. I hacked up the six-inch millipede with a force of a cannon.

A taste of acid and blood filled my mouth, and I felt incredibly weak. I'd been chopped down the middle. I felt like all the energy had left, and half of my life, and my memories evacuated alongside it. At least they tried. So a little menloquity I had left, I sneaked an air at memory on its way to the exit. No, you're not going anywhere.

You're my memory now. As far as memories go, this was the motherload. Tumalopee rolled into a ball in my vomit and probably launched across the room as Jerry raced up and kicked it screaming. Yito Mosquito! I pushed myself up, horrified by the new information now residing inside my head. Jerry. That's the Mayfly Queen. It's some kind of parasite.

Every season it awakens and feeds and finds hosts to lay eggs inside of. In each season they hatch and erupt out of the bodies. That's where the mayflies come from. They come out of humans. And one unlucky Schmuck gets to be her vessel for five years while she lays dormant and absorbs all the knowledge of her choosing victim. Abram didn't even know that thing was inside of him. And she's been doing this for me.

millions of years. Air pressure suddenly changed. Behind me, the door to the cooler open wide. I turned just in time to see the Queen Millipede skid her across the ceiling and out the open door, completely unbeknownst to Lucy, who was standing the doorway with a look of pure shock on her face. It needs stitches, but I'm afraid this is the best we can do for now. Yenna had carefully butterfly bandaged together what she could and smothered the rest of my left hand under a gauze mitten. I've got to ask.

Yeah. I was already missing that pinky from before. No, I was going to ask, what the hell happened in there? I looked at Jerry, who was standing shirtless next to me and applying zone bandages. He gave me the look. The one I'd come to understand as, you're in charge here, buddy.

If we're going to tell them the truth, they would need to come from my mouth. If we were going to attempt a cover up, I'd have to be the one to think up a good lie. There was a raccoon. You know, pulled down my shirt collar and shine her flashlight at my mill peed-legged track marks. A raccoon?

You look like you've been dragged under a sewing machine. Jerry ran with it. That's exactly what happened. The raccoon had a sewing machine gun. He was knucking futts in there. Hey, do we have any more of that rubbing alcohol? Lucy was pretending not to watch.

But even in the dim red glow of the emergency light, I noticed there's still a few passing glances at Jerry's tattoos. An angry voice cut into the air. If there's another wild, Coon running around. You need to do something about it. Right now, before we all get rabies. Lucy snapped back. That's enough out of you.

Owen was on the floor a few feet away. His hands zip tied to a drain pipe below the frozen drink machine. Besides a slight welt on his cheek and some frizzled hair, he didn't look too much worse than when we went into the cooler. On the other side of the room, Bart lay motionless beneath a packing blanket. There was no reason to rush for his sake any. more. I didn't get the whole story. From what I gathered,

Owen had a change of heart about Jerry's plan shortly after the chair went into place, trapping us inside the cooler. He just couldn't bring himself to surrender his weapon. All pretense of innocence went out the window after Lucy found the CB radio and owned smashed it into pieces. He'd need more time to think, he said, to make sure everyone was on the same page with their stories.

He couldn't risk getting caught up in this. It would have been too much of an ink, convenience for a man with his level of visibility. Lucy took the gun from him. I wouldn't put up a fight. It ended with him on the floor, zip tied to a drainage pipe. I would have paid every penny I had to see how it went down. But sadly, Lucy was conservative on the details.

So, I'd have to let my imagination do the work. Bart held on for as long as he could, but it wasn't enough. He passed moments before Lucy opened the door and found the two of us and a puddle of blood and vomit, maybe we never should have tried to stop him. Maybe it would have been fine if he'd gotten to his delivery truck and hit the road. Maybe my decisions were responsible for what happened. There's going to be a whole lot of maybe that I'd have to live with. But that depended on me living first.

Somewhere inside this poorly lit room was a hyper-intelligent parasitic creature that had been killing and consuming people for eons. And right now it was hatching a plan to make sure we didn't leave here alive. Yan had moved down to the line of dots on my chin. The medicine stung like hell, but compared to the millipede, it was a cakewalk. Thanks, I said as she taped up the bandage. So if you're not a doctor, what are you? Like a nurse or something?

I'm a vet. You mean like a member of the armed forces? No. Well, that's probably okay. As long as she knows her way around a pack of gauze, I'm happy to have her here. I am. Owen's voice surprised me. Yan turned around and shined the light on him.

He had the floor now. I spent 12 years in the Marine Corps. I was stationed Iraq fighting terrorists while you were in high school. Look, I know I might have messed up. In the heat of the moment, I discharged my weapon, and there was some friendly fire. But I am not your enemy. If you want help catching this rabid coon, then cut me free. Because you aren't equipped to handle this situation.

I don't even need my weapon. If it makes you feel safer, you can let the little guy hold the gun. I had to assume that he was referring to me by the little guy. It was patronizing. But he may have had a point. Not about freeing him, of course. But about us not being equipped to handle this situation. The baseball bat at my side probably wouldn't be enough if we found what we were looking for.

Or if it found us. Lucy stepped over to Owen and asked. Where were you stationed? What? She repeated herself a little more forcefully. Where were you stationed, Owen? I told you. I rack. What base?

He hesitated. She continued. What city? Aye. He shook his head. I don't have to explain my time in the service. What kind of weapon were you issued? I, uh, I was issued an M-16.

It's a standard. You were in the core for three tours. You should know the answer to this. What size ammo does an M-16 use? I... What's the capital of Iraq? I... You look flummoxed.

As soon as Lucy turned her back to him, he spewed the words. Fuck you, bitch! Let me out of here! He thrashed against the pipe, leaning his weight into it, then fell limp onto the ground, simpering. I turned to Jerry and said, I think it's time. We're going to need to get the code black box.

Jerry had stripped all the way down to his friendship as magic boxers and tossed the soil of clothes into a heap by the front door. Are you sure? Are you positive that this is worthy of a code black? If this isn't, then I honestly don't want to imagine what is. All right. I'll be back. He started for the supply closet until I stopped him. Wait! What?

You shouldn't go alone. It's not safe. What if that raccoon tries to get you? It's fine. Remember? I'm immune to its cooties. Yeah, but even if you can't get the cooties for some reason, that thing can still rip you apart like a paper shredder.

Lucy walked up to Jerry and said. I'll go with you. We'll stay in groups. And if we see any raccoon, I'll take the shot. Jerry and I both blurted. No. at the same time. Why not?

Lucy'd already demonstrated an impressive competency to know when to trust people and when to call people on their bullshit. She knew something was up. I tried for a convincing answer. We need to make sure it's the right one. Don't want to waste bullets on an innocent raccoon. She gave me a stare that screamed, I know you're lying, Jack. But she didn't call me out. Yen ventured into the conversation.

What kind of raccoons do you have around here? Because I've seen a lot of raccoon attacks in my day, and nothing about this looks right. They're advanced. Highly advanced. A minute later, Jerry and Lucy were back in the front room with us. He had brought out the meter-long rectangular box labeled Code Black for emergencies only. He had also displayed an excellent amount of initiative by grabbing the Code X-box. Code X wasn't specifically for situations like this.

It was really more of a preparation for whenever one of us needed to work an unexpected double shift without notice. But the contents were incredibly useful. We changed into the spare clothes, sweatpants and black t-shirts, and took turns to taking swigs from the bottle of mouthwash and spitting them out into a styrofoam cup. I was concerned by just how much blood was in my spit. It was, to put it mildly, way above average. With a minor hygiene maintenance done, we opened a lid to the cold blackboard. The end gasped.

Lucy let out a... What the fuck? Jerry whistled like he didn't already know what was in there. I sighed. Opening this felt like I lost some kind of personal challenge. The contents of the Co-Black Kit were carefully picked out after detailed conversations of many factors. Jerry and I debated the merit of every single thing that went into it.

Nothing here was choosing lightly. I took out the first weapon. A Glock 19 that someone left at the gas station after he didn't need it anymore. Long story. I checked the safety to make sure it still wasn't there. Then put the gun onto the booth table. Next, I pulled out the old bear trap. There was dry blood on the teeth.

Definitely too big to do the job we needed. Next, I pulled out another handgun. Then another. I kept removing weapons, setting each down on the table with care until I finally found what I was really looking for. At the bottom of the box, taking up the space from one corner to the other, was Jerry's main contribution to the kit. The old katana he found at a garage sale and spent two weeks sharpening until it was clean enough to shave with. I pulled the weapon out by the sheath and handed it to its rightful owner.

Sweet. Jerry said, taking it from me with two hands. The only respectable way to take such a weapon. Next, I went right to work piling the guns into the belly sack of my new shirt so I could carry them altogether. As I transported the guns behind the counter, Lucy started questioning me. To be honest, it's surprising that it took this long. Hey, wait a second. Where are you going with those things?

She followed me closely, which was good, because I needed her flashlight to see the numbers on the dial of the store safe. Just putting away the stuff we don't need. She walked over and crouched down by my side. It was just us now. She whispered, What's really going on, Jack? I turned the dial on.

answered, may as well tell you the truth. It's not a raccoon we're looking for. I kind of figured. There's a creature in here with us, and is what killed Abram. It almost killed me and Jerry. I turned the knob and open the safe, then immediately started stacking the guns inside. Lucy asked. If there's a killer monster inside the building, why are you getting rid of the only things we have to defend ourselves with?

Because it's smart. It knows what weapons are, and it can take over our minds. A gun won't kill it, but if it infects one of us while we're armed, if it manages to get a hold of a gun, then that's game over. We can't let it use our weapons against us. I looked into her eyes for any sign of doubt or sympathy. I tried to study her to see if she was buying it, but she looked like she was doing the same thing to me, studying my face.

We just watched one another for a heavy, solid moment, until she looked down, pulled out Owen's gun, and handed it over. Well, in that case, don't forget this one. I dropped it inside the safe, closed the door, and spun the dial. Thanks. It turns out, Yen's impressive voice translates into an even more impressive scream. This wasn't like the noise she made when she found Abram. This was twice as loud.

I felt it in my bones. My first thought as we jumped to our feet was, Oh god, that thing's got a hold of Yen. But then Yen shined her light into the room and I realized that I was wrong. The Milipid found herself a new host, and now Bart's body was standing in the middle of the room, staring at his hands, wiggling each of his fingers, a crazy smile on his face. Jerry held a sword over his hat and dramatically unsheathed it. Zombies again, eh?

All right, let's do this. He ran across the room and swung the blade straight down. He lodged himself on the top of Bart's skull about an inch deep and stuck. Jerry pulled, but Bart jumped back, taking the wedged weapon with him. The blade was now protruding from his head like a unicorn horn. Wow! That was not nearly as easy as I thought it was going to be. A bone is hard. Lucy grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to the ground behind the counter.

Combination, open the safe. Do it. now. I can't. Why not? It's on a timer, on a battery. The safe won't open more than once every eight hours. She grunted.

In a flash, she was back to her feet and leaping over the counter. By the time I got to the other side, she'd already raced over to the table, grabbed the baseball bat, and cracked it over Zambart's head. It, predictably, had little effect. The Zambart lifted his hand, gripped the blade, and pulled it free. This was exactly what I was worried about. The monster got in hold of one of our weapons. I knew this was going to happen.

I'm a genius. Owen was screaming and thrashing. Yen was hiding behind Jerry now, moving in my direction. And the bark queen was heading... Away from all of us? Uh, good? I quickly realized it was hitting to its door. Ah, bad.

Brit lifted the blade and flicked a town, shattering the glass door into a million pieces. The cloud of green flowed inside like a fire hydrant busted. In a matter of seconds, we lost all of visibility. The air turned warm, then hot. Tiny wings and legs, the size of hair is blasted my skin. I stepped forward, holding my breath and reaching into the fray, hoping against all hoped that my fingers would find salvation.

I felt skin. Immediately I hang grasping by the wrist and meeked me forward. My eyes were closed, but Mayflies coated a lot. lining on my lids, wriggling to get underneath. Whoever was holding my arm continued to pull, so I continued to follow, until finally they fell to the ground, taking me with them. As soon as my hands touched the floor, regained my bearings. I'd know this sticky concrete anywhere. We were inside the storage closet again, which meant...

I felt my way along the floor until I reached the corner. There should be a box here. Code blues, code blues. Where is it? I found what I could only hope was the correct cardboard box, ripped it open, reached inside, and felt around until... Eureka! The flashlight!

The normal flashlight! As soon as I clicked it on, the swarm surged loudly enough for me to hear it, like a tempest wave crashing against the side of a boat. Green splattered the wall as some of the bugs became victims of their own stampede. With all the strength I had remaining, I tossed it out to the doorway. The cloud of bugs, now a solid wall of green, heaved in unison after it, catching it, freezing it in mid-air, and quickly consuming it. Jerry slammed the door shut and set the deadbolt into place. Why, you might ask, does our supply closet deadbolt from the inside? Well, obviously, for such an occasion as this.

I hacked up and wiped dead bugs and guts off myself. Soon I became aware that I wasn't the only one. Next to me, Lucy was feverishly pinching off the remaining insects and stomping or clapping them into oblivion. Next to her, Yen sat with her back against the wall, staring at something miles away. I couldn't believe it. In the chaos, we'd all grabbed each other's hands and worked our way to safety. We were all safe. No, that's not exactly right.

I counted heads again just to make sure. Yeah, it looks like it. somebody didn't make it. Another asshole Mayfly tried racing up my nose. I pinched it and wiped the gooey mess onto my shirt. Then, quite unexpectedly, the doors of reality fell off their hinges.

There aren't any words to describe what happened. Honestly, this isn't the job forwards. You could try staring directly into the sun for about ten years while someone pours oatmeal into your ears through a funnel. To be clear, That's not what it felt like. But that might open your senses to a degree of perception that would allow the influence of the idea to exist in your mind.

However, we don't really have time for that. So I'll give language a shot and do the best I can. I found myself falling off the face of the world. Like my mind had been a one-dimensional cup of coffee stretched out and remastered into 3D, played backwards on a network of computers that could only be used by beings with eyes that seemed. reverse. My coffee, the thoughts, spill it all over the table. There's a table in this simulation, right next to the bowl of fruit. Time was slowed down for me. I could control it. I could make it stop if I wanted to. And yet, I was acutely aware that the time flow for everyone else and

everything else was still ongoing. And while that may seem like, for all intents and purposes, time was still moving normally for me as well, I can assure you that time was, shit, where was I? I looked around me and realized that I had slipped out of my body long ago. I'd forgotten back at the gas station, in a closet, surrounded by swarms of dicknats. And I'd left my wallet and keys and phone on my body, so I was truly naked now in the most literal and metaphysical way possible. I was somewhere inside of an infinity, and my mind.

My brain was somewhere inside another infinity, and my body was somewhere inside a different infinity, and in some ways I was infinity. I felt the universe's cruel love and understood that I was just a molecule and an exploding star. The world didn't need me. I could live and exist among the cosmos forever. There was a gorgeous shining light, and I was part of it. All the pain my mortal body had ever endured was so strong. small in comparison to forever.

I was at peace. This whole stupid, scary gas station thing was dumb anyway. Maybe the next life I could be a bat. Some bats eat fruit, right? I could do that. Sleep all day. Eat berries all night. Flying a group of friends.

Live forever. Solve mysteries. Ride roller coasters. That's ride roller coasters, don't they? If not, they will. I just need to rearrange reality slightly, and I can do and be anything I want. I felt a shock. The universe pushing back against my absurd attempt to interrupt the melody.

The song was already in motion. I couldn't change it. Only listen and enjoy. Close enough. I settled in to ride the wave. To see what the storyteller had in the store for... Jerry smacked me across the face. Dude! Snap out of it.

We got shit to do. What? I was back in the gas station supply room, sitting in the corner and drooling all over myself. How long had I been gone? And where exactly had I gone, too? Yeah, knelt in front of me and shining a red flashlight into my eyes. His pupils are dilated.

Did you hit your head? Yeah, probably. This could be a sign of traumatic brain injury. We need to get out of here and find a hospital. Nah. Jerry interrupted. It's just the drug. I sat up and the entire world slashed into place after me.

The room had some momentary jet lag to it. And strangely enough, I could see everything as clear as ever. What drugs? Okay, so promise you won't get mad? I will not promise that. Okay, well, if you promise you won't get mad, I'll tell you. Remember how I requested to work tonight? Well, the reason was because I needed someone to receive.

responsible like you to be here in case things got heavy. You know, because I trust you to make sure I'm safe and not call the cops if I have a bad trip. The world finally snapped into place around me. Everything was back to normal, except for the fact that I could suddenly see everybody's aura. Looking back, that seems rather strange. But at the moment, it felt perfectly inconsequential. What did you do? Jerry's aura was a strange kind of sunny yellow and pants.

swirling with vibrant energy. It was a controlled chaos, like a Picasso painting and a blender. Well, as you know, Halloween is sacred to me, and I wanted to make sure I did something special for it. So I made some hallucinogenic tea, and I may have been microdosing for the last few days to optimize my high. I thought it would let me see some other worlds. But for the most part, it just showed me truths about how tiny we are in the universe.

I know, right? I said with excitement before snapping out of the spell. What was in the flask you gave me? It's a special homebrew. There's a few different ingredients. Primarily, you... He mumbled a couple words under his breath as Zora shifted to purple and baby blue. He didn't want me to know.

Come again? He couldn't look at me. I said, primarily ayahuasca and... and peyote. Lucy let out a loud and inappropriate. Ha! Yen gave her a disapproving mom face, but Lucy shrugged. What? That's actually funny.

You know, in a... We're all gonna die, but at least you're high kind of way? Her aura was bright orange and fire red. Yen's was cool, blue, and wavy. I'd prefer we find a way out of this where nobody else has to die. My tongue felt funny. I don't know a lot about recreational drugs. Jerry seemed almost offended by my choice of words.

His aura made up frowny face, as he explained. These are not recreational. They're spiritual and medicinal. Native Americans use peyote to treat influenza, snake, and scorpion bites, even blindness, because it helps you see out of more than just your eyes. Yeah, nodded. Actually, he's not completely wrong. Ayahuasca has been used for ages by indigenous peoples to combat tropical parasites.

Lucy said. Great, so we accidentally dumblocked our way into the antidote for zombies. Yan was quick to distance herself from where the conversation was headed. Wait, we're not honestly saying Bart is some kind of reanimated corpse. That's absolutely absurd. He must have simply had a weak pulse that I couldn't detect. The blood loss probably left him confused and disoriented. And that brain injury from the sword must be what caused him to break the glass in an effort to get away.

There is a perfectly normal explanation for everything that's happened tonight. How annoyingly rational of her. Lucy scrunched up her nose. You may be right, but I've seen enough weird shit in my life to know that monsters are real. I don't suppose you guys have any more of that stuff, do you? Alas. Jerry answered. Jack Power chucked it like he was a freshman at Rush Week.

Sorry. Not as sorry as you're going to be. There's a fuse before that stuff. hits all at once. And if you're not used to the effects, well, you may find yourself falling in and out of corporeality. That's normal. If you end up in the other place,

look for the mescalido spirit to be your guide. He doesn't always appear for first-timers, but considering how much tea you drank, I think he'll pretty much have to show. I nearly jumped out of my skin when we heard the sound of knocking at the door. And with those drugs coursing through my veins, such a thing felt very possible. Is it?

Jerry said in a strange, high-pitched voice. Open the door! Blasted Owen. Or at least something using Owen's voice. Yen jumped for the door, but Lucy snatched her by the wrist with both hands and stopped her. Let go. Owen's out there in that mess. The voice on the other side of the door was desperate.

Come on. Let me in. These things are everywhere. I can barely breathe. He started coughing loudly, convincingly. Then continued. Please. I'm hurt.

I'm bleeding really badly. You have to open up. Yan shook her hand free from Lucy's grasp and said, We have to let him in. He'll die out there. I know he's a shitty person, but he doesn't deserve this. Her aura was glowing white hot, but something else was drowning it out.

I could see the aura of whatever was standing on the other side of the door, and it was monstrous, hungry, and angry. It was shaped like a human, but irradiated an unholy energy. Now I understood. This must have been what Jerry saw when he looked at Abram. It acted human, presented human, but it was not. Hey, I said, pulling myself to my feet. That's not Owen.

If you open the door, we're all screwed. Her aura went red the moment she made up her mind. I knew it was coming, but I didn't have the time to stop it. You're all crazy. With that, she lunged forward and slid open the lock. The door swung open immediately, and the thing, the vessel that had once been owned, stepped inside our room. His face was covered in lines of green dots, racing around and over one another, crawling in and out of the holes where his nose and eyes used to be. His once handsome face was no skeletal caverns for the highway of insects, wearing away to the bone as the mobilized army of infant mayflies took millions of tiny bites.

He lifted his hands, one of which Bendee gloved at the wrist with his zip tie had held him in place. His fingers caught Yen by the throne, squeezed her screams into silence. They both went down, yet hitting her back against the floor. The thing landed on top of her, still squeezing. Its jaw opened as a pair of long, thin appendages reached out, dangling from the other side of his teeth inches above her face. The swarm of insects invaded the room. Jerry launched onto Owen's back. Lucy grabbed a flashlight and broke it against Owen's face.

The thing released its grip on Yen just long enough to grab the other two and throw them in the hallway. When it turned back to its victim, the queen was already halfway removed from Owen's mouth. Its eyes staring at the poor woman crying in front of it. Its fishbone legs scratching the skin of Owen's mouth away in chunks like it couldn't wait to free itself. Suddenly, they were far away. Or I was far away. No, no, no, no, not now. Keep it together, Jack.

You can trip later. They need you. The room was gone. I was standing outside. Cold, wet air blew against my face, filling my nostrils with the smell of wood, smoke, and sand. The sky above me was filled with crisp stars, reaching all the way down to the horizon on all sides.

The earth beneath me was brown. nearby a fire crackled inviting me over. But the queen thing? It was about to crawl inside yen? I slowly turned down a full 360 degrees. There was no yen here, no millipede, no gas station. This felt just as real as anything. Maybe I'd hallucinated the whole thing.

Maybe I'd never even worked at a gas station. Maybe I just came out here to do some drugs, and now I couldn't remember which side of the dream I started out on. I walked over to the fire. Not like I had much choice. My options were A, approach the fire, or B, don't approach the fire. I had already tried B without any success.

The bonfire was only three logs big, but put off enough heat that I could feel it from ten feet away. As soon as I was close enough to enter its bubble of warmth, I heard the man standing next to me. You're finally here, Jack. He was taller than me by a couple of heads. His skin lime green with pointy ears and no hair.

He wore no clothes and I kept my eyes aimed up at his face, just to stay polite. Hi! I said, doing my best impression of a friendly guest station clerk. Who are you? I'm like, you're a spirit guide or whatever. He had a distinctly surfer bro accent. Not at all what I expected. I mean, I didn't expect it.

anything, but especially not this. I'm here to show you how to find the answers you seek, I guess. Oh, okay. Well, I was in the middle of something when I got here. Do you think we can rain check this and send me back? I'm pretty sure my body's being eaten by bugs as we speak. Your body is safe, but your mind is torn asunder. The vision waved its green hands.

as it spoke. It felt slightly overacted, but I was going to be polite. Your thoughts are poisoned. You bleed memories. Your spiritual injuries go deep. And if you do not tend to them first, your body will outlive you, man. I sighed. Okay, fine.

How does this work? What's the fastest way to get this over with? The mezzly spear crosses arms and said, Well, I guess we can dispense with the formalities. Great. I hate formalities. Oh, me too, man. Okay, let's get right to it.

First, a few ground rules. Okay? Number one, no kissing. What? Absolutely no kissing. Understand? I can't even tell you how many times people have tried to make out with me. Like, come on!

I'm a primeval spirit of nature. Not some booty call. Anyway, number two, if you want to listen to music... His words turned into a muted scream as the blade entered his neck. Another figure had appeared out of the darkness, jumped onto the spirit's back, and drove a full lane action to it. The spirit hit the ground as a man removed. the knife and stabbed it back in over and over.

Black blood sprayed out in every direction as the man turned him into a bloody pin cushion. He held the knife handle with two hands and thrust it again and again until the blood wasn't spraying anymore. The man heaved loudly until his breathing returned to normal. Then he plunged the weapon in one last time into the spirit's back, all the way to the hilt, before standing up and dusting himself off. Once done, he looked at me and gave a strange smile. Hey, Jack. Looks like I got this one just in time. Are you okay?

The man looked like old Abram. At least, mostly anyway. He was a fair amount younger, slightly thinner, and his yellow beard was almost brown. What the hell did you do that for? What are you talking about? His voice was definitely Abrams. I just saved your damn life. The man looked at the destroyed creature at his feet as doubt crept into his words. Didn't I?

No! What? Really? It looked just like one of them aliens, like the one they caught humping goats on the brown farm. I mean, look at him. He's all green. Lots of supernatural things are green. That was the spirit guide. He was supposed to show me how to navigate this plane of existence.

Oh, shit. Really? Yes. Abram kicked at the body. It didn't budge. Honest mistake, Jack. With nothing else to do with our night, we tried digging a hole to bury the body of our deceased. see spirit guide. But the ground was just too hard, so we gave up almost right away. In the end, we decided to roll the body away and try to ignore it while we sat down by the fire.

I had to wonder if anyone had ever killed their spirit guide before. Was there a protocol for this kind of thing? Was I going to get in trouble? Jerry would probably know the answers to that. Wherever Jerry was, which reminded me, I was still trapped in another state of materiality from where I was supposed to be. The young version of Abram pulled a burning twig away from the fire and used it to light a cigarette. How did you even get here? And what are you? Like some kind of ghost or something?

Abram laughed. Come on, Jack. There ain't no such thing as ghosts. That's debatable. Nah, see, I'm just a vestige of the Mayfly Queen. The thing is, she don't just take over a host. What she does is way more cruel. He took a long, slow drag before continuing.

Evidently, this vestige wasn't in any hurry. And from the looks of things, it wouldn't have mattered if he was. We didn't have any real way out of this. The queen bitch doesn't do much work for herself. She outsources it all. She makes her host eat for her. Makes it breathe for her. I even had to remember things for her.

Suppose to just... be a one-way street, but there's always a little cross-contamination. Some of my memories stayed inside of her when she made me kill myself. And when your brain got sloppy seconds, she must have deposited some Abraham thoughts inside your dome. That's what I am. Ah. That's really gross.

But as long as I have you here, maybe you can make the most of it. Is there anything you can tell me about the queen? Any weaknesses? How do I kill it? I'm afraid you ain't got much option. All I know is this, and don't ask me how I know it. The queen needs a body to stay alive. She can make do with a corpse for a little while,

but if she can't crawl into a healthy host after about five minutes, she's done. That's why she made me come to the gas station. He closed his eyes and rubbed them. His lips quivered like he was trying to keep from breaking. You okay? She made me do it. She made me do so many things. I honestly didn't even know why I was doing it.

Didn't know I was infected. Started with weird little stuff. I got all these crazy cravings. I wanted to drink puddle water. Wanted to eat dirt. I just had to live with it. I thought, well, we all got our fuck-ups, right? And then, a couple of months back,

I started having to collect corpses, mostly roadkill at first. Then a new urge hit me. I had to start setting traps. Then I started collecting pets. I ran out of room in my deep freeze, so I started stacking them wherever they'd fit in my house. I've been sleeping in a hotel for the last week because I couldn't stand the smell anymore. Any time I went home, it was awful. Let me remind you, I drive garbage trucks for a living.

I tried to think of some way to change the subject. This was horrible, but not exactly useful information. When I couldn't think of anything, I let him continue, hoping he was almost out of steam. That thing inside my brain forced me to fill up the back of my garbage truck with all this rotting meat and drive it out to the gas station, where we'd be separated from the rest of town. She remembered all the times I saw you. out there and thought it would be a safe hunting ground. Turn one of you into her new host. Turn the others into food alongside the meat from the garbage truck. Then she'd spend the next five years

laying more eggs. You don't want to know how she lays her eggs in other people, Jack. It's real nasty. But I couldn't help it. I didn't have no control. Even when she made me take the knife and... He bawled his hands into fists. Well, let's just say, I finally feel like myself again. I looked away from him and stared at the fire. This sucked. I knew what I was going to have to do, and I hated it.

What's wrong? The queen needs a healthy host. If I'm going to kill it, there's only one way to do that. I have to make sure there aren't any healthy hosts left to occupy. What do you mean? When I get back to the gas station, I'm going to have to kill Yen and Lucy. I turned to see the naked green giant standing behind us and slowly clapping his hands together. There!

You figured it out on your own. This was all part of your spiritual voyage. I was meant to get stabbed all along. I stood up in face division. Really? Yeah, Jack. This is totally how I intended for it to go. And now that you've had your epiphany, I'm gonna like...

Send you back or whatever. Oh, and like, don't forget if you enjoyed your vision to rate me five stars. All right, my guy. Time to go home. I shot up, struggling for air and finding none. I was under water, flailing, bathed in darkness. The world clung to my limbs, pulling me, resisting my motions. I gasped and fell and hit my head, and then my hands touched the sticky concrete floor.

The universe stopped spinning and I regained my bearings. I was back in the supply closet, wrapped up beneath a plastic tarp. I carefully pried it free and sucked in as much air as my lungs could take. My head pounded. My bruises screamed. My left hand was numb all the way to the wrist, but I was alive. And even better, my hallucinogen night vision was still working. Wait, that's not right.

The light was on overhead, which meant someone or something had found a breaker box and turned power back onto the station. The supply closet door was shot, and I was all alone. If you don't count the dried-up carcass of a businessman by the door, the oodles of carnivorous green dots crawling in, on, and around him. I couldn't tell how long I'd been in the other place, but something told me I still had time to stop the queen. But if I was going to do that, I'd need to open the one box. I hoped I never needed to open. It was the most desperate measure, for sure. But these were the most desperate times.

When this whole thing blows over, I'm going to need a long vacation. I climbed up to the top shelf, reached into the corner, and pulled out a small innocuous shoebox labeled in tiny print, Code Reds only. Put this back.

Whatever's happening, it isn't a Code Red. I brought it down, carefully set it onto the ground in front of me, and opened the lid. The inside was a smaller box, a fire safe with a combination lock. This is really happening, huh? I'm about to kill some innocent people

to save this sorry town. I entered the combination, 666, and snapped open the lid. The coat red box contained exactly two things. A cigarette, and a hand grenade. I took the grenade and stuffed in

into my hoodie pocket. Right inside my... No, that's right. My hoodie is still outside. I took the grenade and stuffed into my pants. Why don't sweatpants have pockets? I took the grenade and looked at it. How the hell was I going to transport this thing without the queen seeing it?

I couldn't very well hide it in my underwear, even if I wanted to. I didn't have time to let my next idea disgust me into reconsidering. I just bit the bullet. Pride Owens' expensive... suit jacket from what remained of his body, slammed it against the wall a couple of times, and put it on. It fit surprisingly well, all things considered. With grenades stuffed into the inner jacket pocket, I went to the closet door and pulled it open.

As I stepped into the hallway, my shoes squished into something that felt like cat litter. It wasn't long before the liquid worked its way through my socks. The floor was completely coated in a blanket of green, several inches thick. The walls were all coated in the same. stuff and the ceiling and the fixtures. I was walking down a solid green squirming tube into an equally green cave shaped like the front of the gas station. Each step I took left a small footprint that quickly filled itself back in.

The mayflies had become May crawls, having reached the stage in their life cycle where their wings fall off. Now they piled together, caking any surface area they could find. I could hear the sounds of billions of microscopic teeth prying at the wood, slowly devouring, digesting the building from the inside out. As I passed a giant green stalagmite that was once a spinning rack baked chips, I saw her. She was sitting on a living, wriggling, green throne where the gas station counter used to be. She had a smile on her face, the one that it stole from Yen,

and the aura from the floor to the ceiling was a powerful verdant green. I was looking for you, she said in Nyen's voice. Where did you go? Sorry, I slipped out of reality for a minute. What did I miss? That's a neat trick. Why in the world would you ever come back? I was kind of hoping to save my friends.

Have you seen them? As I stood still, an untold number of crawlers climbed my pant legs. I could feel their weight pulling me down like I was being swallowed by quicksand. They escaped. She said her aura never wavering. You should have done the same thing. No matter. We can always use more food.

I knew she thought she was telling the truth. I also knew Jerry would never leave me behind, which meant he also had a plan. Listen to me, Yen, I know you're in there. She laughed. There is no. No yen anymore. I know you can hear me. I wanted to tell you something.

I'm sure you've probably seen it a million times. When a dog comes into a shelter and there's nothing you can do for it and it's suffering, what do you do? When you can't treat it and you can't save it and you're out of options? I reached inside my jacket. My fingers curled around a grenade right as a colony of crawlers past my knees. Look, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. Okay?

She laughed. What do you think you can do to hurt me? I'm a god. Your food. Right as my thumb touched the grenade pin, I heard something. At first I thought it was another hallucination. But as it grew louder and closer, it seemed even the Yen Queen was beginning to show a little concern. What is that?

We realized the answer at the same time. As soon as the garbage truck got backed all the way after the building and crashed right through the front door, sending chunks of cheap wall and bugs splatter all over the place. The shock of the collision pre-sploss of bugs from their colonies on the ceiling, and they fell as a single enormous unit. The impact nearly doubled the size of the bug pit on the floor. It was deep enough to drown it. I released my grip on the grenade and brushed the clumps of bugs off my head and shoulders.

The queen jumped to her feet and walked over to a spot on the floor. A circle cleared the way for her, revealing the clean floor underneath. and the baseball bat she was reaching for. With a weapon in hand, she stepped over to the garbage truck. I didn't even think before bending down, scooping up a handful of May crawlers and smushing them into a ball, very reminiscent of a snowball. Some of them skittered up my arms, but most of them stayed intact.

I lobbed it as hard as I could and struck the queen in the back of her head. She turned around with her mouth open and a very human expression on her face. One that begged the question, Did you really just hit me with a ball of my own children? The distraction was enough for not to notice the sound of hydraulic lifts behind her. And before she could take a step towards me, the gate of the garbage truck had swung open. An avalanche, dead and rotting animals and body parts, spilled onto her, crushing her. Wet boots built across the floor, washing away heaps of crawlers.

The wave of blood and viscera hit me just a few moments after the smell. And to be honest? This is also not a job of rewards. Whatever you imagine the snow being? I swear it was a lot worse than that. I would have projectile vomited all over the place, but as luck would have it, there wasn't anything left inside of me.

The mountain of death covered almost the entirety of the front wall now, save for a small window at the top of the door frame, hardly enough to see through, and certainly not enough to escape from, but I ran for it all the same. Once I hit the pile of Abrams collections, I started climbing. There were hooves and antlers, more cat faces than a grandmother's Facebook page, and an alarming number of limbs that could have at one point belonged to humans.

Abram did say he'd been setting traps. He didn't say what kind. When I finally reached the top of the pile, I dropped down on top of some sort of rib cage squirming with green bugs and peered out the opening. Jerry had climbed up the other side to meet me. Hey, bro. He sat excitedly. I see you're awake now.

How was the other side? Did you see the spirit guide? Yeah, we accidentally killed him. You what? Jerry, where's Lucy? She went around to the back door to rescue you while I caused a distraction. By the way, I learned how to operate a garbage truck. It was super easy.

Hey, is that Owen's coat? I turned on to my back and slid down the mountain of Gore. No sooner in my feet hit the floor, then a hand erupted from blow up. with a pile and snake my sweatpants. I ripped free red as the yon thing pushed her broken body out of the pile. Her arms were bent in places that should not bend.

Bones poked out of her skin from the inside. Animal bones poked into her skin from the outside. Her jaw dangled lopsided. And her aura burned to the ceiling, green and angry. Her vessel was broken, and she had only one spare remaining. Jack! I turned to see the last person who

wanted to see, and likely the first person person the queen wanted to see. Lucy was close enough to grab me. We need to go. Now! I turned just in time to see the queen Milipi to erupt from the center of Yen's neck and launch itself forward. Lucy and I scrambled through the back door, but I knew we couldn't let it out. We needed to finish it right here.

Her hand was around my wrist. I pulled her back and wrap my own fingers around hers. As soon as we reached the cooler, I dragged her to a stop. She looked back at me with worry in her eyes. I didn't have time to relay the whole plan. I just grabbed the cooler door and pulled, hoping she'd pick up on it. It scraped open a few inches, but the ground cover of green insects made it nearly impossible to move. Worse, the ground cover made it nearly impossible to see where the queen had gone.

Lucy grabbed the door with me, and together we pooled our weight and pried the door open just enough to jump inside. Abrams' body was still on the floor. I ran to it and freed the filet knife just in time to hear Lucy's scream. Over there! The queen skittered across the wall and into the corner. I lost sight of it almost immediately. A metal shelf crashed against the wall, then Lucy pulled me towards, then through the cooler door. Once out, she slammed it shut behind us.

What happened? I trapped that thing underneath some boxes. What the fuck was that? You're sure? You're positive it's trapped? Yeah, positive. It's still in there. I hate how little time I get for such important decision.

But the bugs under my clothes had started biting, so time was up. I made a snap decision to trust her. Okay. I pulled out the grenade, yanked the pin, reopened the cooler door just enough to toss the weapon inside, then shut it, and lead my back against the door. Lucy's eyes were huge. Was that? She pointed at the door with horror. Yeah.

Her hands grasped me by either side of my collar. She pulled me away from the door and flung me hard and a pile of bugs in front of the store. Before I could get up, she landed on top of me. A second later, I mean my ears never really went away. But after a few seconds, the cloud of green dust had finally settled, and I could see that the cooler door had been blown clean off its hinges. If Lucy hadn't thrown me out of the way, movies do not do grenade blasts justice.

We sat up and tried to catch her breaths. Lucy got to her feet first, coughing violently. I found where the fillet knife had landed a couple feet away, grabbed it, to work my way up. Lucy leaned against the counter. She was breathing loud and fast. The whole thing had been sprint speed,

a marathon length. And now is the time we finally got to rest. Her head was down. Her back to me. She couldn't see the knife in my hand. Just like I didn't get to see the queen trapped under that box. The spirit vision may have been an idiot,

but it was also right. There's only one way to make sure that the queen was dead and stayed dead. There's only one way. Lucy wouldn't see it coming. She wouldn't feel a thing. Considering how everyone else has died tonight. That's really not such a bad way to go. Would we all be so lucky?

I was sitting outside in a circle of salt. Jerry figured out about an hour too late that crawlers absolutely hate salt. Something to remember for next time, I guess. when the first helicopter landed on the street outside of the parking lot. It expelled its contents before it even finished landing. Three guys with machine guns and gas masks, a couple in white hazmat suits and gas masks, and a familiar G-man in a black suit and tie.

No gas mask on with this one. Just a pair completely pointless sunglasses. The Fed shouted out orders to the others as they closed in on our building, but froze mid-sentence once he saw me. Jack? I don't believe it. I don't freaking believe it. You're still alive.

Jesus, I just lost 50 bucks. Hey there, Agent Roscoe. Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle. Wonders never cease. You're a little late to the party. Where's your partner? You know, your gas station isn't the only locale of interest on a night like this, right? He took off his sunglasses, and I swear he was wearing another pair of sunglasses underneath them.

Or maybe the drugs are still messing with me. It's hard to say. He looked at the teetering remains at the gas station and said, Well, you want to start telling us what happened? Over the next hour, I gave my statement. More choppers landed, and more men and gas masks arrived to clean up the damage and mayfly debris. They had brooms, snow shovels, and devices that looked an awful lot like proton packs. A few of them left the gas station carrying kennels with pissed off raccoons scratching away at the walls from the inside.

One of the men interrupted my story to inform Agent Roscoe that they'd captured all three raccoons. The agent dismissed this news much more easily than I would have expected. All right, all right, I've heard enough. He said to me. Here's how this is going to play. You got hit by terrorists. Wait, scratch that. We already did terrorists this week.

Uh, let's say gang activity. A local gang broke in and did some Halloween vandalism. This sort of thing is an epidemic. You know, they've been going up and down the interstate looking for gas stations off the beaten path to tear up. What about all the bodies? We'll figure that out later. Jesus, Jack, my night is just getting started. This is like my Monday morning.

Get off my back. He looked over my shoulder and lowered his voice. I know you can keep a secret, but what about that one? Behind me, Jerry was cleaning off his katana by rubbing it on the grass. I wouldn't worry about him. He's what you might call an unreliable witness. Rosco nodded, then suddenly pointed at a young woman in fox makeup talking to an agent under the gas station awning about ten feet away. What about her? She's new. Is she going to be a problem?

I shook my head. No. She knows the deal already. He grinned. I want to let you in on a little secret, just between you and me. When I first started doing this job, I thought I had a pretty finely tuned moral compass. But after a few mercy killings and real-world trolley problems, I started to realize something. The right choice and the moral choice ain't always the same thing. It's possible to do the right thing for the wrong reason or the wrong thing for the right reason. You could be forgiven for little mistakes, even if they cause a lot of people to die gruesome deaths. Thanks.

And, Jack, forgive me for asking, but you are certain you saw the queen die, right? Am I really that bad at lying? Or do I just constantly counter people with bullshit detector set to 11? Yeah. I'm sure. He laughed. Well, I guess we'll find out in five years, huh? He raised his voice and called out to the others.

All right, let's double time it. Wheels up in 30 minutes. Got to leave time for the cleanup crew. A few minutes after the cleanup crew arrived, Jerry and Lucy approached me. Hey, man. Jerry said. We're about to go back to my place and do, like, all the drugs. You want to come?

Before I could answer, Amaya's caught something standing in the tree line across the parking lot. Something watching us with two shining red eyes. It was a raccoon. I know it could have been nothing more than the remnants of Jerry's tea playing tricks on me. But I could have sworn that this raccoon had an aura. When it was ten feet tall, glowing green. and angry from all of us at creepy. We hope you've enjoyed the 31 days of horror.

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