Nightcrawlers Part One
#1 of Nightcrawlers
Trying my hand at an apocalyptic thriller. Takes place after the world "ends". A fight for survival, against a world filled with creatures known only as "Nightcrawlers".
Nightcrawlers, Part One; Aftermath Survival
The woods were warm, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves gently, patches of sun breaking through the canopy and lighting her path. She heard a tiny sound, and froze, her old Finnbear .270 already up to her shoulder. She slowly swept the rifle towards the sound, stopping when the deer stood in her sights. With a slow exhale, she lightly squeezed the trigger...the deer fell before the echo of the shot could subside.
Feeling slightly better about her overall situation, she set about processing the animal. After almost twenty minutes, with the deer mostly done, she realized the temperature was slowly waning. The sun was just about gone. Shit. Packing what deer meat she'd finished, the 27-year old hurried through the forest. She could hear the rushed footsteps of someone following her, and she knew exactly who it was...and there was no way in hell she was stopping.
As fast as her hands could be persuaded, she had a steel door bolt spun open, and was descending into the ground. Another door, and more stairs. The final heavy door had a ten-digit keypad.
8-1-8-6 and the door locks clicked, allowing her entry.
The warmly lit space was the opposite of the dark and creepy "descent into madness" (the stairs), and was a welcome sight after a long day hunting.
It was cozy, in an industrial sense. The door opened into the main living space, in which resided a soft couch, entertainment stand containing her entire DVD and music collection on a hard drive (safely encapsulated in a Faraday cage), Xbox, TV, a handful of small mementos from her old life, and a bookcase with a wide variety of books, plus another "caged" hard drive packed with tomes. This space was carpeted, as were the bunks straight through. The bunk room wasn't typical; all being made of pine, with built-in storage and narrow stairs, hinting at what a treehouse bunk may look like. The bunk room was set up for six occupants, each bed having its own privacy curtain.
To the left of the living room was the kitchen. An extensive, but simple, water filtration system took up a mere closet space and pulled from the storage tank, which had its own filter to harvest from the nearby river. Hot water on demand, bamboo countertops, stainless steel sink...it was a nicer kitchen than her house had.
On the right was the root cellars. The first was all dry goods. Drop down through a trapdoor and there were the cold products such as fresh vegetables (harvested from the aquaponics system further in), and some preserved meats. Through a corridor into an adjoining cellar was the "wine" cellar, where she kept two barrels of homemade mead. The cold and wine cellars were always cold, thanks to the bare concrete walls. Behind one of the barrels hid a small door that opened into a tunnel. The tunnel was a last-ditch escape leading half mile away from the main entrance, dropping off by the river.
The pride and joy of her underground haven was past the bunkroom. A storage space held some easily accessible ammo, weapons, and clothing, and another heavy steel door. A spin of the Navy ship-style bolt opened the door into an old missile silo.
The silo had been a Cold War relic, decommissioned back in the 70s. She'd bought it for next to nothing, and set about converting it to a bugout hideaway. She built the "living" area to appear like that was all there was, just in case she had company and didn't trust them enough to show them everything.
Secondly, she completely demolished and/or hid everything above ground that pointed to a large complex. The only thing visible besides the main entrance was a hangar-style steel garage door a few hundred yards away. Even the doors she had carefully painted with flat camo using local leaves and whatnot for pattern.
The silo itself was half full of groundwater. Occasionally, she pumped water up from there, purified it with potassium permanganate (but not too much, or it'd go from purified to lethal), and used it as "grey water" for washing hands or cleaning. The water was almost seven stories deep into the silo, leaving two stories dry. The living space was on the top story, but still almost a hundred feet underground.
Through the door, the cool air is the first noticeable thing. Why spend energy and fuel heating an entire complex? Around the missile hangar along the catwalk, to the opposite side, another door and a hallway jetting off to the side. The hallway used to be missile command. She repurposed the five rooms into storage for medical supplies, ammunition, weapons, and whatever else she needed. The last room was a complete aquaponics setup with an assortment of vegetables and live tilapia and catfish, tailored to feed two people.
The final door led into a massive garage. The pride and joy. In line of the exit door, a retired military deuce and a half with matching trailer, fully equipped and loaded for a quick getaway and nomadic lifestyle. Next to it, another military trailer, this one with a 500 gallon water tank and hooked to a desert humvee with a custom PTO to run the water monitor. Wildfires were crazy here, and while she was protected underground, her air supply intake was at risk, so she kept this setup just in case.
Lining the back wall, gas cans and diesel cans full, and an assortment of oil, coolant, filters, and a Snap-On toolbox full of both small auto and diesel tools.
Parked next to the humvee, a stripped fire engine sat neglected. She'd stolen (borrowed?) it for parts, and just never got around to getting rid of what was left. She occasionally curled up in the front seat, feet hanging out the window, book and a cup of mead in hand. It was surprisingly comfortable.
On the other side of the engine were the toys. A Nissan GT-R, a baja Toyota Tundra, custom sandrail (with a .50 Browning mounted on top and bullet-resistant body panels), a few motorcycles of various types, and a couple four-wheelers. Most of the vehicles saw hardly a couple hours of use a month. Usually, she planned for a week trip, swapping the 2.5 ton's trailer for a flatbed to take whatever toy out.
There wasn't much there that wasn't stolen after the war. She'd run here, laid low for a couple months until people either died off or killed each other, then started venturing out to pillage.
While under "house arrest", she spent quite a bit of time at the screens by the front door, watching her network of wireless, solar-powered cameras (batteries for nighttime). There was plenty of activity at night, especially by the abandoned mine.
After processing the deer meat for storage, she found herself at the surveillance monitor again, MRE and cup of water being absent-mindedly consumed.
When the hundred cameras showed no abnormalities, she zoned out, eventually drifting off to a dreamless sleep.
On the bank of cameras just a bit south of her location, a pair of people began setting up camp.
Once they see you, or pick up your scent, you're as good as dead. There is no outrunning them. No hiding from them. No reasoning with them.
If you are caught in their territory after dark, may as well sit down and wait for them.
She was snapped awake. No individual sound had done it, just an alarmed sixth sense. She sat up in the chair, noticing the tiny flashing red indicators on two cameras she'd placed just south of the silo. The sun was only a few minutes from lighting up the forest, so she would be able to head out shortly, but it was still too early.
Two men were camping there, just at the edge of the treeline, a fucking campfire going and everything.
"Well they're dead." she muttered. Mere seconds later, three more motion indicators activated. The grainy night vision showed only shadows racing by. They were too quick for the cameras to catch, and even inspecting frame by frame only produced rough silhouettes. Even with the sky starting to brighten, the night vision option still provided better contrast.
"Here comes the cavalry." she sipped from her water, and then nearly choked on it. She tapped a few keys on the keyboard, bringing the campers up full screen. Good God. She recognized one of them.
Night time belonged to them. Day time belonged to her. There was an unspoken truce between the Nightcrawlers and her. She had reign of the forest during the day, whether it be fixing cameras, foraging, hunting, or just getting fresh air and natural sunlight. She never left the bunker until the sun's rays touched the treetops, and made sure to be back before the afternoon rays disappeared. It usually gave about half an hour of space between her and them.
But right now, there were people she was interesting in saving. She was considering an early venture. There had been people before, but strangers. Stupid people thinking the forest would be safe, and in only the interest of self-preservation, she let the Nightcrawlers take them. Not that she didn't have compassion, but she had worked hard for what she had and built, and wouldn't risk it all for just anyone.
But this was different. She knew one of them from before the war. From long before.
As she quickly slung a rifle over one shoulder, she thought about what this could mean for her. It'd been a long and lonely couple of years here, and she would be happy for some company. A tingle stirred up in her loins. She would be happy to provide those two with whatever they needed, if she got what she needed...providing they hadn't contracted anything questionable in the past few years of "find 'em, fuck 'em, forget 'em". She was still alive for a reason.
The main doors were always kept well oiled for ease of operation as well as noise reduction. She eased the last door open, casting wary looks every way before setting foot outside.
After a moment, she climbed up and out, gently closing the door behind her. She held her AR15 ready, both hands steady, eyes constantly sweeping the trees for movement. It was just light enough to see where you're going, but still dark enough for the trees to hide others.
As quietly as humanly possible, she set out quickly towards the camp. Soon, she could hear the crackling of the campfire, and low voices.
She backed up against a tree, listening for the familiar footsteps and demonic whispering of the Nightcrawlers, while also deciding how to make her presence known to the intruders. How also to make them understand how dangerous their scenario was.
The sun finally broke through the trees. She was mildly relieved, but still wary of the shadows, as she rounded the tree, rifle up to her shoulder, pointed right at her old friend.
"The fuck..." he quickly stood up from the firewood pile. He appeared to be alone. Where did the other one go?
"You alone?" she demanded, already knowing the answer, but pushing for information anyways.
"No..." he hesitated, seeming to recognize her while trying to understand why she'd have a loaded rifle leveled at him.
"How many are you? We need to get out of here."
"My brother and I. Why? What's out..."
A series of excited barks and yelps echoed through the forest.
"That's why."
Just then, the second camper charged in from the forest, sliding to a stop at the sight of her, and the rifle. She lowered the rifle upon noticing neither of them appeared to be armed.
"Follow me." she turned to leave. "It's now or never."
The brothers eyed each other as she headed for the woods, silently deciding she probably had the better idea.
She kept a strong steady pace, trying to hurry but not attract unwanted attention.
The brothers kept her pace, the one she didn't recognize seemed mildly jumpy, as he had every right to be. They stayed within ten feet of her, watching the woods and her back, almost as if waiting for her to stop, swing the rifle around, and kill them. Although murder was the last thing on her mind when she first saw not only an old crush, but his sexy brother.
The trio reached the door. She spun the doorlock and pulled the door open.
"Go." she whispered. As they darted down the stairs, the sunlight began creeping along the treetops. A row of eyes caught her attention, glowing like little embers in the trees. She paused, staring back at them. None of them moved, except for the occasional blink. Despite the night and day arrangement, she was still nervous about them. She leaped down into the stairwell and slammed the door, bathing the humans in darkness.
Not like she hadn't done it a thousand times, she spun the internal doorlock, slid the locking bolt, and pushed past the brothers on her descent to the next door. Next door same as the last, although she had clicked on her weaponlight to help the pair find their footing. The final door was opened and the darkness was quenched by mild daylight (upgraded LEDs).
"Welcome to my cozy hell!"
It didn't take long to convince them they were safe, and both had crashed in their respective bunks. Her friend conveniently chose the bunk right across from hers, and left his curtain wide open. It was midday, and she had business outside to tend to, so no daytime sleep or spying on her new tenants.
One of the Nightcrawlers tore down one of her cameras, and she needed to resecure it before something came and packed it away. It was the end of the world, so new wireless solar/battery-powered security cameras with night vision weren't easy to find. Despite this, she was mildly nervous about leaving her "cozy hell"; after all, she technically broke the unspoken truce and trespassed on their "nightland". Maybe they wouldn't care? The sun had been up, sort of.
She left a note taped to the middle flat panel monitor of the security array, and headed out, only packing her trusted Beretta pistol and a backpack with basic tools and climbing gear pillaged off a US Forest Service truck.
The woods were beautiful at this time. There were birds and bugs singing, the sun warming the canopy and floor, and delivering safety in the form of natural light. It was mid-spring, so everything was coming alive after a harsh winter. She was near the downed camera when she saw a dragonfly buzz by, its mate locked to it in emotionless mating. She growled at the insects in slight jealousy and pressed on.
She found the camera nestled in the undergrowth, fresh bite marks in its case. Why they did this was beyond her. Even though it seemed random, she still had marked which cameras were attacked, and how often. She logged every movement, documented as many Nightcrawlers as she could differentiate, and studied them the way a scientist studies a new life form. There was a thick journal on the desk next to her keyboard at the camera monitors, where she kept details of the creatures. They were much smarter than your average forest animal, hunting like wolves with human vengeance, moving through the woods like ghosts. It was kind of creepy how humanlike they were, and weren't.
After strapping on her climbing spurs, she resecured the backpack and started up the tree. Maybe she'd put this one a bit higher. It appeared to be an omega that tore it down, so not as strong and powerful. Height should keep it safer.
She tested the batteries, checked continuity to the solar panel, resecured it to the tree with a stainless steel band and a couple self-tapping screws, then shimmied aside. Resting on a thick branch, she produced an iPad and logged into her system to check the field of view.
As soon as it loaded, she tapped on the camera's icon, bringing up this one's eyes...and saw her leg was still in view. She shifted, and saw glistening eyes in a shady patch.
Startled, she turned that direction, seeing nothing but leaves illuminated by sun rays streaming through the canopy. Shaking her head, she lightly prodded the camera, adjusting it to her liking. Once finished and satisfied, she stowed the tablet and was just about to climb down...
Her stalker was sitting patiently at the base of the tree, so dark-colored that even the sunlight showed no contrast, amber eyes alight like fire. He bared sharp white teeth, a blood-curdling growl rolling from his chest, seemingly vibrating the tree she was perched in.
It was almost mid afternoon. This was the first time she'd seen a Nightcrawler out in broad daylight, and the third time she'd seen one in person. Her chest was tight, she'd all but stopped breathing, and her legs were already burning from holding herself so precariously for so long.
"This is not how I die." she spoke softly, the phrase a mantra she said whenever faced with death. Although this time, it seemed useless, especially as the Nightcrawler leaped up, digging razor claws into the tree, scrambling like a possessed demon, chortling excitedly like a ferret, spit dripping from his snarling muzzle.
A low grumble from the woods caused the attacking Nightcrawler to freeze in his tracks, only inches from her feet. He stopped snarling and climbing simultaneously, looking over his shoulder towards the woods. With a grumble, he reluctantly let go, silently landing on all fours at the base of the tree. He glared back up at her before hauling ass away.
At the edge of the small clearing stood another dark silhouette, eyes focused on her. This one was taller, broader, and held himself like an alpha. But alphas normally weren't seen outside like this. Omegas were the soldiers, betas were the field leaders, and the alphas stayed hidden, probably never leaving the den.
She remained frozen in place, actually feeling some shrapnel of fear piercing her for the first time in a long time. Too much weird shit happening lately.
Both brothers were awake by this time, and met her at the door.
"We thought you were done for."
"What the fuck was that thing?"
Ignoring both, she dropped her pack and sat down in front of the security array. It was still almost three hours away from sunset, so there shouldn't have been any activity, but half her cameras' motion sensors were activated.
The pack was moving...hunting...during daylight. Chills ran down her spine, thinking of how fearless the omega from earlier was, and how even though he was in direct sunlight, she couldn't define legs from body from head...these creatures were so dark they seemed like specters. She knew they were real though. She'd seen them stalk, hunt, and kill, inspected the aftermath of those killings in person, and been so close to them she felt their lack of body heat. Yup. They seemed to be cold-blooded, or more realistically (considering their preference for darkness) just ran colder than normal.
"What's going on?" one of the brothers asked.
"My world is changing again."