sight of the door he and James had entered the house by breathed new strength into his body and he crossed the room in a dash, flung open the door and ran outside.
It took Rick three long, quick strides to cross the porch and he leaped off it into the driveway, sucking the cool night air deep into his lungs as he hurried to his truck.
As he opened the door, the thing charged through the front door of the house and the night filled with the stench of rotting meat and sulfur. Rick jumped into the truck and turned the key. The sound of the engine roaring to life nearly brought a tear of relief to his eye and he slammed the pickup into reverse and floored it, flying backwards down the long driveway.
Before he could reach the end of the drive the truck began to sound different. At first Rick thought the engine’s low hum was changing somehow, but then he realized that it wasn‘t the truck making the noise. It was the swarming, buzzing sound of insects that the hellish creature spoke with, so loud that they drowned out the truck’s motor entirely.
And now he could see them, too.
The back window of the pickup was filling with bugs. At first he only noticed a couple in his peripheral vision, but second by second more were joining them. There were locusts, bees, beetles, and hundreds of bugs he’d never seen before. It was quickly becoming hard to see through them enough to make out the road behind him.
Panicked, he turned his head to use his side mirrors, but the windows on either side of him were filled with insects as well. The windshield was covered too; the truck seemed to be cocooned by the things.
The pickup lurched to the left, tilting towards the driver’s side and then slamming into something. With a frustrated scream, Rick dropped the transmission into drive, but the vehicle wouldn’t move.
The bugs began to flit out of the air conditioner vents and Rick tried to swat at them but soon the cab of the truck was alive with them.
Rick threw open the door, falling out of the truck and tumbling a few feet down a steep slope.
He glanced up at his pickup, still swarming with bugs. He had driven it off the side of the driveway a mere five or six feet from the intersection with the main subdivision road and now it sat precariously with its rear end folded around a large oak tree and another tree on the driver's side of it, holding it from rolling down the mountain towards where he was now.
As he struggled to rise to his feet Rick felt something move below his hands. He looked down just as the earth beneath him heaved and came alive with millions of worms. They squirmed up through the dirt and fallen leaves for as far as he could see, the moonlight giving the teeming forest floor an even more hellish appearance.
He turned and began half-rolling, half-crawling down the mountainside, crushing the worms beneath him as he went.
Their manifestation was unending. He had made his way barely fifty feet and was mired in the squirming horde, at least a foot or more deep now. He was covered in a thick paste of squished worms, live ones sticking to the glue-like remains of their brethren and covering his body. He could feel them in his hair and under his clothes.
He rolled to his butt and grabbed a small tree to try and pull himself up with. He made it to his feet and tried to take a step but he was mired knee-deep in the rising ocean of worms; it was like walking through quicksand. Almost immediately he lost his footing and fell face first into the earthworms.
Rick panicked, thrashing with panic and trying to rise up. The squirming little things were trying to crawl into his mouth, his ears, anywhere they could. Finally he managed to pull himself to a sitting position, gasping for air. He could smell the rotten stink of the basement again, the stench filling his lungs an instant before he saw the monster moving down the mountainside toward him.
The worms were up to Rick’s
It took Rick three long, quick strides to cross the porch and he leaped off it into the driveway, sucking the cool night air deep into his lungs as he hurried to his truck.
As he opened the door, the thing charged through the front door of the house and the night filled with the stench of rotting meat and sulfur. Rick jumped into the truck and turned the key. The sound of the engine roaring to life nearly brought a tear of relief to his eye and he slammed the pickup into reverse and floored it, flying backwards down the long driveway.
Before he could reach the end of the drive the truck began to sound different. At first Rick thought the engine’s low hum was changing somehow, but then he realized that it wasn‘t the truck making the noise. It was the swarming, buzzing sound of insects that the hellish creature spoke with, so loud that they drowned out the truck’s motor entirely.
And now he could see them, too.
The back window of the pickup was filling with bugs. At first he only noticed a couple in his peripheral vision, but second by second more were joining them. There were locusts, bees, beetles, and hundreds of bugs he’d never seen before. It was quickly becoming hard to see through them enough to make out the road behind him.
Panicked, he turned his head to use his side mirrors, but the windows on either side of him were filled with insects as well. The windshield was covered too; the truck seemed to be cocooned by the things.
The pickup lurched to the left, tilting towards the driver’s side and then slamming into something. With a frustrated scream, Rick dropped the transmission into drive, but the vehicle wouldn’t move.
The bugs began to flit out of the air conditioner vents and Rick tried to swat at them but soon the cab of the truck was alive with them.
Rick threw open the door, falling out of the truck and tumbling a few feet down a steep slope.
He glanced up at his pickup, still swarming with bugs. He had driven it off the side of the driveway a mere five or six feet from the intersection with the main subdivision road and now it sat precariously with its rear end folded around a large oak tree and another tree on the driver's side of it, holding it from rolling down the mountain towards where he was now.
As he struggled to rise to his feet Rick felt something move below his hands. He looked down just as the earth beneath him heaved and came alive with millions of worms. They squirmed up through the dirt and fallen leaves for as far as he could see, the moonlight giving the teeming forest floor an even more hellish appearance.
He turned and began half-rolling, half-crawling down the mountainside, crushing the worms beneath him as he went.
Their manifestation was unending. He had made his way barely fifty feet and was mired in the squirming horde, at least a foot or more deep now. He was covered in a thick paste of squished worms, live ones sticking to the glue-like remains of their brethren and covering his body. He could feel them in his hair and under his clothes.
He rolled to his butt and grabbed a small tree to try and pull himself up with. He made it to his feet and tried to take a step but he was mired knee-deep in the rising ocean of worms; it was like walking through quicksand. Almost immediately he lost his footing and fell face first into the earthworms.
Rick panicked, thrashing with panic and trying to rise up. The squirming little things were trying to crawl into his mouth, his ears, anywhere they could. Finally he managed to pull himself to a sitting position, gasping for air. He could smell the rotten stink of the basement again, the stench filling his lungs an instant before he saw the monster moving down the mountainside toward him.
The worms were up to Rick’s
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