Things Go Bump in the
Night
10/31/13 6th
“Tatum what do you want to do for a living?” His dad asked. Tatum
cringed. Not because of the question, but because of what it implied. It seemed
as more of an accusation than a question, as if his dad was stating that Tatum
had no clue of what he wanted to do with his life. The question hung in the
air. Tatum turned to his dad, who had not taken his eyes off of the road and
then looked back at the window. Lightning flashed, illuminating Tatum’s grim
face. “Tatum?” His dad echoed.
“I have an idea of what I want to do, dad,” Tatum finally said. “I’m
just still figuring stuff out.” Tatum’s dad sighed. “That’s not good enough of
an answer anymore, Tatum,” his dad said. “You’re seventeen for God’s sake. You
rarely mention college or anything. And you could at least be working!” Tatum
tensed. Arguing with his dad like this was pointless. And it always ended with
Tatum leaving the house with his mom begging him to stay and his little sister
crying. Too bad they were in a car. Instead of adding fuel to the fire, once
again Tatum looked back at the window. And this time he could have sworn he saw
figures running outside. Who would be walking out here in this weather?
“Tatum are you listening to me?” His dad demanded. “Dad, I really don’t
feel like arguing with you about this right now,” Tatum said nonchalantly. As
much as Tatum hated it, he understood his father’s frustration. Being a well
respected police officer must suck if you’re constantly worried about hauling
in your own son in jail in a few years because he ends up committing a crime.
Tatum pushed away the thought, irritated at his own realization. He clenched
his teeth in frustration. Before his dad could reply, Tatum turned on the
radio. The station was the news and the broadcast blared from the car’s
speakers. “Ten more murders this evening,”
A woman reported. “Witnesses reported
that the suspects were covered in blood and uttering gibberish. More updates
coming soon.” Tatum’s dad shook his head.
“All these murders today,” he mumbled. “It’s all these kids on drugs,
man.” Tatum smirked. He was glad he got his dad to stop talking about his
career. “I heard it was more of an infection that was causing people to act
like that,” Tatum said. His dad grunted. “Whatever it is, the police need to
contain it quick. I don’t want to be scared in my own house waiting to be torn
apart by some crazy person.” Tatum closed his eyes and laid his head against
the headrest of the seat. “I’m sure it won’t come down to that, dad,” Tatum
said coolly. Tatum found himself drifting to sleep. And his dad’s frightened
voice snapped him awake.
“Tatum!” His dad yelled. Tatum eyes fluttered open and he froze. As the
car got closer, its headlights illuminated what rattled Tatum’s dad. In the
middle of the road was a man covered in blood. Pale skin revealed black veins.
His clothes were in tatters and torn flesh hung from his body and teeth. His
eyes were wild and yellow. And he was running straight towards the car. Tatum’s
dad turned hard to the right, but the road was too slick due to the rain and
the car fishtailed. Tatum’s dad turned hard again but it was no use. The car
flipped and skidded down the slick road, sending orange sparks everywhere,
until coming to a final stop at the end of the road.
“Tatum,” a voice whispered. “Tatum.” Tatum slowly opened his eyes. It
was still dark so he couldn't see anything. His body was sore and he felt something
warm running down the side of his head. Tatum tried to get up, but he just hung
from his seat belt. The car was upside down. “Tatum,” the voice repeated.
Despite that the voice was right next to him, Tatum felt like he had to strain
his ears to hear. He looked over at the silhouette of his dad in the passenger
seat. He didn't need to see to know that his dad was in bad shape. A wave of
fear came over him at the thought. But they needed to get out of the car. Now
was not the time to be getting scared. Tatum looked back at his dad’s
silhouette.
“Dad, we need to--,” Tatum was
cut off by a man throwing himself at the car window. It was the same man
covered in blood that Tatum’s dad almost hit before. Tatum flinched. The moon
shone on the bloody man, illuminating his grotesque features. Tatum flinched as
the man moaned angrily and pawed at his dad’s window, leaving bloody hand
prints after each attempt at trying to get in. It was like a scene straight out
of a horror film. A scraping noise on Tatum’s side arose and he slowly turned
his head to his window. A woman was frantically scraping at the window, trying
to get in as well. Her yellow eyes glowed with hatred and when she moaned,
blood dribbled out of her mouth. “Sh#t,”
Tatum thought. As if getting out of this wasn't hard enough. “But it can’t be helped,”
he mumbled. Tatum reached over and unbuckled his seat belt. He fell from his
seat and landed, yelling as he felt something break. Pain shot up his leg like
water bursting through a geyser.
“Dad,” Tatum panted, trying to ignore overwhelming pain. “G-get my
pistol out of my pocket,” his dad stammered. Tatum winced as he reached for his
dad, ignoring the sound of glass cracking as the people outside got closer to
getting in.
“Got it,” Tatum said between pants. “Goo-,” Tatum’s dad never got to
finish. The man on his dad’s side burst through the window, sending shards of
glass into Tatum and his father. “Dad!” Tatum yelled. But his words had no
affect. The man was on his dad in an instant, tearing at his flesh as he
dragged Tatum’s dad out of the car. “Sh#t!” Tatum panted as he fumbled with the
gun’s safety. He finally got the safety off and raised the gun, ready to blow
off the guy’s head who tried to take his dad. But they were gone. All Tatum
could hear was the man eating his dad’s flesh. Tatum tried to fight back his
tears, but they fell anyway. He began to burn with hatred. It started in his
throat and began rising until it burst out of his mouth in a war cry. He would
be damned if he let some freak feast on his dad. Tatum began crawling out of
the broken window, ignoring the shards of glass stabbing him in his stomach.
But he didn't get far. The woman on his side broke through the window, groaning
and spewing blood everywhere. She gargled and grabbed Tatum’s leg, about to
take a huge bite in it. “F##k you!” Tatum screamed. He turned and fired the
gun, emptying the clip into the woman’s body. Tatum kept pulling the trigger,
but nothing came out. He looked up at the woman. Bullet holes were all across
her body. Several were in her arms, her stomach, and her head. She gargled, spewed
some blood, and went limp before collapsing to the ground face first. Tatum
gasped, struggling to catch his breath. He raised an arm to wipe the tear stains
from his face, only to smear it with blood. After pulling himself together,
Tatum crawled out of the car. He could barley see anything, but the headlights
on the car was still on, providing some light. The car was on the side of the
road, leading into a dark forest.
“That’s where that flesh eating
bastard took my dad,” Tatum thought. He tried to get up, but the pain in
his leg was too much and he fell back on the ground. “Damn,” Tatum said through
clenched teeth. He picked himself up again, ignoring the pain in his leg and
leaned on the car for support. He needed to find something to wrap his leg, or
he wouldn't be able to pursue his father’s attacker.
“Maybe I can find something to wrap my leg up in the back,” Tatum said.
He began to edge his way to the back of the car when he heard them. A series of
gurgles and moans came from farther up the road. Fear struck Tatum in his chest
and ran up his spine. On top of the fact that he could barely move without
feeling intense pain, he couldn't see the things that were trying to tear his
flesh apart. Tatum tried to move faster as the sounds got closer, but he lost
his balance and fell. He punched the ground in frustration and slowly pulled
himself back up. The sounds were only yards away now.
“Guess I have no choice,” Tatum said. He took out his dad’s gun, reloaded,
and aimed at the darkness. “I can’t see them, Tatum muttered. “But I can sure
as hell hear them.” Without any precaution, Tatum emptied the clip into the
night, screaming his head off as the muzzle flash from the gun lit the road
with bright orange bursts. Tatum lowered the gun after a moment and popped out
its empty clip. He was breathing heavily. A figure leaped out of the darkness,
landing on Tatum. He cried out as an immense weight crushed his body. Tatum
looked up at his attacker. It was kid, no older than he was. The boy’s eyes
were sunken and yellow. His hair was matted and dirty. Flesh hung from his face
and arms. He opened his mouth, revealing jagged yellow teeth and a foul smell.
The boy gurgled, letting blood drip onto Tatum’s face.
“Get off!” Tatum yelled. He tried
to shot the boy off of him, but the boy was too strong and continued to inch
towards Tatum’s face. Tatum shut his eyes tight, waiting for death’s cold grasp
to take him away. But then a gunshot rang out.
Reluctantly, Tatum looked up at the
boy. His eyes widened after he saw the hole where the bullet that entered his
head exited. The hateful features that were stapled on the boy’s face moments
ago were replaced with an innocent look. His bright yellow eyes had dulled and he
went limp, collapsing onto Tatum’s chest. He pushed the corpse off in disgust.
When he looked up, Tatum saw a silhouette towering over him. Behind the
silhouette were three police cars, red and blue lights lighting up the dark
road.
