Horror Stories: A Macabre Collection by Steve Wands Read Free Book Online Page B

spatula, and the rats were never this big.
He managed to pin her against the wall holding her there as he
awkwardly opened the door. Finally, he was able to shove her out.
He quickly did so and locked the door. He stood, spatula in hand,
staring out the glass door. She shuffled back toward the door,
hitting the glass with her hand, scraping with her nails. Though
she probably couldn’t see, her dead mutilated eyes stared right
back into Jay’s eyes. Neither of them blinked. Behind the dead
woman, more shadows stirred. Illuminated by the yellow streetlights
the shadows turned into figures, those figures walked toward Jay’s
Pizza Palace and they were hungry.
    Bark had made his way back to his underground
suburbia. A fire was crackling in the pit. The makeshift milk-crate
couches were deserted. It was surprisingly quiet for this time of
the evening, not that Bark knew what time it was. He knew it was
dark out, and most folk were sitting by the fire and shooting the
shit; telling tall tales of the day and comparing currency by now.
A rustling noise was coming from one of the shacks. Bark walked
over to it, knocking on the plywood door.
    “Hey, Spotz, you in there?” Bark asked.
    The rustling became frantic. Bark slowly
opened the door, peeking inside. It sounded like someone was
looting shit or playing the one-handed shuffle. He hoped to find
neither. The door nearly opened, revealed Spotz shoving his
belongings into his backpack. Spotz swung his head around. He
looked terrified.
    “Aggh!” Spotz yelled.
    “Hey, man, it’s jus’ me. Where you
headed?”
    “Outta here. Peeps on the street gone crazy!
Fuck, man, they was eatin’ each other—rippin guts out an’
shit!”
    “What the fuck you talkin’ bout? You whacked
out? Thought you quit that shit,” Bark replied.
    “Man, I ain’t on nothin’! You were out there.
You didn’t see anything? I ain’t making it up, people attacking
people, eating them—just ripping them apart!” Spotz sobbed.
    “Aight, aight, relax…”
    “Fuck you! Relax? You must be on some
shit, we need to get the fuck outta here man, outta the city, and
now!”
    “Well, do what you gotta do. I’m staying
right here.”
    “You do that, and yer as good as dead,
man.”
    “Yeah, sure. Have a good trip,” Bark said as
he turned and left the man to his packing.
    Spotz didn’t comment. He finished shoving his
things into his bag, grabbed his cap and slung the bag over his
shoulder. He stepped out of his little shack looking warily in all
directions. His eyes found Bark sitting by the fire, stoking it
back to a proper size. Spotz quickly walked over to Bark with the
intent of getting him to flee the city. Then he heard the noise of
moving rocks under shuffling feet. Spotz turned to the usual
entrance and sure enough; the neighbors were coming home.
    “Bark, get yer shit and let’s go, now!” He
snapped, pointing in the direction of the entrance.
    “Man, chill the fuck out. You’re freakin’ me
out.”
    “Just get up and look, they ain’t normal,”
Spotz insisted.
    “Alright. Alright… just can it,” Bark stood
up.
    “See?”
    “Yeah, I see everybody coming back.”
    “Fuck this, I’m outta here you blind
bastard.”
    Spotz took off down the tunnel. He started a
quick jog, following the tracks, rats scurrying as he did. He knew
the tunnels well and planned on making it toward the south end of
the waterfront where the main tunnel came to an end. Bark watched
him take off, shaking his head in disbelief. Crack heads always did
crazy shit, he remembered a time when another friend of his got
hooked and tore apart the insides of his home with an axe. His
friend was convinced that creatures and midgets were living in the
walls, pimps and animals were in the trees, but they were okay so
long as they stayed outside. Bark turned his attention back to the
slowly approaching group. They were grumbling something. It sounded
like moans.
    “Hey, Joey-G! You score some bug juice?”