Creep World: The End (Part One)

[nickadeemus]

Perhaps when adding new parts to the story, update the title with the newest section?
I am also having an Iggy vision in which Steven dies at some point, and Eric tries to fill in but is rejected.

[Tps222]

Too soon Mal, you should have waited a little longer to re-introduce Gina. Too much is happening too fast character wise. I understand why you made her come out, but you could have changed her you know what location.

[MalReynolds]

“What are you talking about, Iggy? Too late?”

“Behind you,” he weakly motioned.

Eric spun around, pulling his gun up. He watched the tree lined entrance to the parking lot, but nothing came in. He waited.

“Iggy, are you sure you saw something?” Eric hunched down to ask him.

There was a distinct roar behind them.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Eric saw the shadow before he saw the actual creature. It had a thick, blocky body with two mechanical claws that protruded from the angular torso. It wasn’t walking, but floating into the parking lot at an alarming speed, sashaying back and forth as if trying to maintain some kind of balance. Its neck was at least a foot long, but it was hard to tell due to the position of the head. The head was jutted forward, making the neck arch up and back down again. It wore the face of a human, but there was no mistake about it. Whatever the hell this thing was, it was a monster.

“What the hell is that thing,” Steven asked, backing up towards the station.

The things eyes focused on Steven and he seemed to freeze, their eyes locked. Blood began to drip from his nose and tears began to fall from his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to cheat on you, Angela,” Steven said.

No, Steven didn’t say it… He mouthed it. The voice was coming from the creature.

“But your sister was a better cook. I’m sorry, but I have to go,” the creature said. Steven began to walk towards the creature.

“I know you cheated on me, we went to counseling for that!” She cried out, running to her husband. He swung his arm and backhanded her. She fell across the car and looked up.

“Something’s wrong, you guys.”

“Well no shit,” Eric said, aiming his last shot. He squeezed the trigger; the bullet flew across the parking lot, and past the monsters head.

Gopher and Iggy looked at Eric, puzzled.

“I just missed?”

Fichter backed up, trying to get into his car to retrieve a gun, when the creature met eyes with him and he blacked out.

Steven was already at the creature, which was resting one hand on his shoulder. It set its eyes on Angela, who froze.

“I’m married, but I want more.”

Gopher ran at the thing, which swung its head at him. He was clothes lined by its neck and he fell to the pavement.

“When Eric walked through those doors, I almost wanted Steven to stay out looking for batteries.”

Eric looked at Steven, who was still in a trance. Was he hearing any of this?

Blood began to drip from her nose, and she walked towards the thing slowly. They weren’t fighting to pull at all, being drawn like a dead fish.

“I have to go,” she mouthed, and the creature said absent-mindedly. A small hand rested across her shoulder, and she closed her eyes.

The thing swung its head towards Iggy, locking eyes. Iggy rose to his feet and began to walk towards the creature.

“I’m sorry I let you die, sis,” it said.

Iggy stopped. He shook his head, but soon began walking again.

“I wasn’t strong enough,” it continued.

Iggy froze in his tracks. Rage coursed through his veins. The tables had flipped. No longer was the creature looking into Iggy’s eyes, but Iggy was staring the creature down, his steely glare terrifying to Eric.

“I didn’t let her die,” he called out.

The creature shook its head, and stared back at Iggy, who took one forceful step forward.

“I DID NOT LET HER DIE!” He spit, screaming so loudly that his voice echoed back from the building through the silent parking lot.

The creature began to shake its head again, trying to stare back at Iggy. Iggy maintained his stance, one foot forward, one foot back, a look of pure hatred in his eyes towards the creature.

“If you didn’t let her die, then who did,” the creature hissed in its own voice, snakes and bursting pipes instead of a true voice, the words hard to make out.

“I didn’t!”

“THEN WHO!”

“ERIC!” Iggy screamed.

“Hey, wha-“ Eric said from behind Iggy.

“AHHHH!”

The creature’s head began to bow. The neck moved in irregular patterns, creating waves in the creatures gray flesh. Blood began to dole out of its eyes, and its body began to sink to the pavement. Its head fell to the pavement before its body, the neck fully stretched out. The body hit the ground and fell over, the claws raking across the back of Angela and Steven.

It turned and looked back at Eric remorsefully, before letting out one final hiss and succumbing to death.

Angela and Steven collapsed to the ground simultaneously, against each other.

“What the hell was that all about?” Eric cried out. “Am I the only one that was thoroughly upset by this?”

He turned and surveyed the area. Gopher was still out on the ground, Fichter almost beneath his car. Iggy too had blacked out.

“Well, shit, guess I was.” He slapped Iggy lightly, who came around.

“I remember most of that.”

“Oh, do you?”

Iggy nodded.

“Do you remember the part where you’re blaming me for your sister’s death?”

Iggy nodded again.

“We’re going to need to talk about that at some point. Clear some things up, alright?” He extended his hand to Iggy, who took it. Eric helped him to his feet.

“So, Mr. ‘I Just Killed That Thing By Staring It Down’, you wanna help me get everyone back in the station? Anything else coming this way?”

“Not that I can tell.”

“That’s something we’re going to have to talk about soon, too. Just what exactly you can tell. And what happened out here with that thing.”

It was a matter of fifteen minutes before everyone was back in the break room. All of them had exceptionally painful headaches, save for Eric, who was relaxing with a cupcake.

“Iggy’s got some things to say,” he said, taking a bite, getting cream on his upper lip. “So, without further ado, Iggy.”

“Alright. First of all, that thing wasn’t the conventional Creep.”

A murmur rose through the room.

“Yes, well, it seemed a great deal smarter. It got into your minds. Started to control you, although I don’t think anyone would remember that.”

“I do,” Eric said from the back.

“I don’t think anyone would remember that that was actually affected by the creature, smartass.”

He chuckled from the back.

“But you never spoke. The voice was coming out of the thing. It was like it was melding with your mind or something, controlling you that way. Got you all to say things. Secrets and the like.”

Steven looked up.

“Like what? What did it say?”

“That you were unfaithful to your wife at one point.”

He let out a sigh of relief.

“She already knew about that.”

Angela turned.

“Is there anything else I should know about?”

Steven shook his head.

“No.”

She turned to face Iggy.

“Did I say anything?”

There was a long pause as Iggy thought about the question.

“No. You didn’t. Eric killed it before you had a chance to speak.”

Fichter piped up from the table.

“I thought he was out of bullets?”

“I miss-counted. All it takes is one shot. They don’t call me ‘Bulls Eye’ for nothin’,” he said, finishing the cupcake.

“They don’t call you ‘Bulls-Eye’ at all,” Gopher said.

“Here’s the game plan, kids. We’re going to camp it here for the night. Our sources tell us that it should be safe, relatively speaking. Iggy, Gopher, we’re going to alternate front door shifts. Iggy and I will be first, then Iggy and Gopher, then Gopher and I. Rotate every four hours. Tomorrow, we get the hell out of Jersey.” Eric paused. “If only because it smells funny.”

Iggy had taken a seat as Eric dragged the body out of the lobby and into the conference room.

“Alright, you blame me for her death?”

“I never thought I did until just a minute ago.”

“What’s the deal with that? She wouldn’t let Gopher throw her. There was nothing we could do about it. I was already on the other side.”

“We were hiding out in our building. She had gone down the street to get canned food when she found one of your fliers. She wanted to meet up with someone else, I didn’t. She said it sounded safe, I said it didn’t. I said my vote should count for something, she said it didn’t.”

“So that’s it?”

“More or less.”

Neither of them spoke. Angela began coughing from the back room.

“Is there a reason we lied about who killed the thing, Iggy?”

He nodded.

“What do you reckon that reason is?”

“Because I don’t exactly know how I killed it.”

“I got some theories on that myself, but I’m going to keep them with me for a little while longer. I’m going to keep an eye on you, Iggy. I think you got something going on in your mind that you don’t know about yet. I’m curious as to what exactly that is.”

“So am I, Eric.”

There was another pause, the cloud shadows moving across the parking lot, streaming in through the glass double doors, blanketing the two in quasi-darkness.

“So, she likes me,” Eric finally said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, but you can’t know that around her. She might not even know that yet. That thing out in the parking lot-“

“The Mind-Melder?”

“Cool name. Yes, it made you say things it knew you didn’t want to. But I don’t think they even knew what they were saying. I mean, I know they didn’t know, but I don’t think that she even knows she has feelings for you.”

“I wouldn’t call them feelings. We just met. It’s more of a lusty type deal.”

“Whatever it is, it wouldn’t surprise me if she didn’t know about them at all. I didn’t really blame you for Gina’s death until I really thought about it, tonight. Maybe that’s something it does. You think it could implant thoughts into your mind?”

“I have as much information as you do.”

“Actually,” he said, smirking, “I have a little more.”

“What?
”
“When the thing was dying, it was like it let go of its thoughts. I found out some things.”

“For instance…”

“It did use the zombie to track us. It had some kind of mental hold on it, telling it where the zombie went. That’s how it found us so quickly.”

“Is that all?”

“Nope. Found out some more about the zombie, too. Standard rules apply, apparantley.”

“What?”

“The Melder was worried that the infection would spread through other Creeps. They already have five or six under quarantine that were bitten or scratched, that turned. You get bitten, you get scratched, you turn. Standard zombie rules. Simple.”

“Huh.” Eric grunted.

They sat in silence for the rest of the shift, watching the moons light dance through the breaks in the clouds. When four hours turned up, Gopher walked from the break room, groggy, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. He nodded to Eric who was beginning to fall asleep.

“Iggy, I’m going to tell them about the standard rules tomorrow. In case we run into another. Can’t have them risking what they got when the danger ramps like that. But everything else is between us right now.”

Iggy yawned.

“See you in four, Eric,” he said, drawing in a large gulp of air.

Eric half saluted and turned, patting Gopher on the back and heading to the break room.

[Eyoshi]

The Mind-Melder was pretty cool, but I thought it should have been introduced later in the story. I think the impact on the characters would have been better if this happened after a longer period of time to develop firenships and other relationships.
I alos liked how this "infection" also applies to both humans and the Creeps. It gives the sense that there is a third side in the fight.

[MalReynolds]

Well, all in all you all have read about thirty five pages single spaced, which translates into around 105 pages in a novel. I felt it was time to step things up a tad. It's going to move pretty quickly from here, I think.

Hope it does. I've got some ground to cover. A lot of ground.

Mal

[Tasselfoot]

Mal... that is MAYBE 30 pages of book print, tops... less, IMO. I've felt that it has moved way too fast already, and jumps from one action sequence that is not well explained to another, with no time for character development in between.

[MalReynolds]

In an attempt to prove Tass wrong, I pulled out a hardback copy of Hannibal and typed a page.

That translated into a little under half of a page on word. Meaning that front, back and part of the next page would all fit into one Word page.

So, he's right. It's not 100. It's somewhere in the ball park of seventy. My bad.

I do find his points valid, though. It's very fast paced, and once I finish section 10 (this is 8), I'm going back and doing some rewrites on all of the parts. So as of Sunday, there won't be an update for a little while. Once I re-edit, the full text will go into a new thread with the next section. So, yeah.

Mal

[natetheffrer]

Awesome stuff mal, I should do a reader response on this for english class, its better than rereading the harry potter books.

[Tps222]

I have to agree with Tass somewhat. It would be nice to go into more detail when they switch scenes. Character-wise, do what you want. Mind Melder was pretty cool, can't wait to see the real action.

[MalReynolds]

The first tendrils of daylight entered into the station lobby through the glass doors and over the eyes of Eric, who was fast asleep. In the middle of his second shift, he had passed out mid-sentence, talking to Gopher.

”Which is where I learned to shoot like that, you se-“

Gopher had summarily nodded, then went back into the offices to find a blanket. Finding a quilt, he returned to the lobby and covered Eric, sitting back and keeping his own eyes open on the doors.

Nothing happened. There was no thumping against the glass doors; the metal handles were still attached as morning approached. The Mind-Melder’s body sat in the parking lot, unmoving. The wind shuffled the trees, knocking leaves down, but that was the most excitement that night. In a word, it was quite boring.

As the light crept over Eric’s eyes, they opened with a flash.

“I wasn’t sleeping. I was checking… My mind… For… Shit, I was asleep, wasn’t I?”

Gopher nodded.

“Alright, Goph, what are we going to do? Where are we going to go?”

“I dunno. We’ve got a car. We could try and find a boat like Steven said. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Eric paused. He didn’t quite know what to say. Steven, in Eric’s eyes, wasn’t much of a planner. He wanted to go to some island. Maybe that would work. Eric didn’t know. But Steven just seemed so happy about everything.

“I guess. Couldn’t hurt, could it?”

Gopher smiled. “I’m going to go to the back and get everyone up. I’ll be right back.”

The large man ambled to the back. Steven was holding Angela on the floor, and Iggy was stretched out over the counter. Fichter was slumped in the corner with one arm over his head, crooked against the cabinet, his other arm behind him.

“Hey everyone!” Gopher boomed. “Time go get up!”

Iggy rolled off of the counter, onto the ground.

“Ouch.” He said, seconds after impact.

“Come on, grab some stuff,” Gopher said, walking over to Fichter. “We’re gonna get out of here. Grab all the cupcakes you want, because we don’t want to come back. Wake up, dude.” Fichter stirred, and opened his eyes.

“Could you get me a cup of coffee, sugar?” He said, sleepily.

“Haven’t had a fresh cup myself in about three weeks,” Gopher said, helping Fichter to his feet.

The group slowly made their way down the dim hallway to the front door, where Eric was standing, his form silhouetted against the world outside. His forearm was against the door and he was resting his head against it.

“Alright,” he said to the glass. Everyone stopped. “We’re going to go find a boat, and try to find an island. As much as I think that’s a bad idea, it’s the only idea we have right now. So that’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to pile into the car. Gopher, Iggy and I will take to the back. Angela, you sit on Steven’s lap, and Fichter, you drive. We’re going to find a marina, and then we’re going to get the hell out of dodge.” He turned around. “Any questions?”

There was a long pause.

“Could we get bananas anywhere?” Steven asked.

There was another long pause as everyone contemplated the question.

“Not sure,” Eric finally said. “I think they’re all rotten, aren’t they?”

Steven frowned. “Alright, bad idea.”

Eric opened the door, stepping out into what was left of our world. He took the steps two at a time, hitting the sidewalk, turned around and motioned for the others to follow. They all stepped outside, drowsily, and walked to Fichter’s car. Eric opened the door for Angela and Steven, before climbing into the middle of the back. Gopher clambered in on his left side, Iggy on his right. There wasn’t much room to move around at all, and Eric tried unsuccessfully to situate himself in the back.

It reminded him of bus-rides through New York as a child. It was going to be bumpy, he thought to himself, reaching for a safety belt. There was no belt for the middle, he deduced as Gopher and Iggy strapped themselves in.

“So, Dad, the paramedics never have to remove people from safety belts in car accidents?”

“Nope, Eric. Because most people live if they wear seat belts.”

“So if they die, they leave them in there?”

It was one of the few times he had ever seen his father laugh. It turned from a laugh into a guffaw; his face beat red with a tear brimming in his left eye. It rolled down his face and past his moustache. Eric was embarrassed. He had been genuinely curious about the fate of those who died in seat belts, but now, retrospectively, the answer had been obvious.

Fichter started the car, and Eric started to laugh. He finally got it.

Angela turned around and looked at Eric. “Something funny? Tell me. I could use the laugh,” she smiled. Oh was her smile beautiful.

“It’s nothing.”

“Well… It wouldn’t take much to make me laugh, all things considered.”

“Alright, well… I asked my dad if anyone who died while wearing a seatbelt was left in the car they died in. Because he said… Uh… Paramedics never had to take people out of cars in body bags that had their seatbelts on.”

The car moved backwards.

“And?”

“Well, that was it. My dad laughed at that when I was a kid, but I didn’t understand why it was funny until now.”

“Oh,” she said, turning back around.

Steven turned his head, trying to look back at Eric, but unable to fully turn because of his wife.

“What made you think of that? Thinking about car accidents is morbid when we’re in a car.”

“Oh, I don’t have a seatbelt.”

“That’s even more morbid,” Steven said, facing forward again.

“That’s not morbid, is it, Iggy?”

“Yes. Yes it is very much so morbid, and now I’m uncomfortable sitting next to you, Mr. Morbid.” Iggy said, smiling.

From the front seat, they heard a laugh. It was Angela. Her laugh was even more beautiful than her smile. To try and describe it would be doing it a great injustice.

“Alright, that’s enough, Iggy.”

“What are you going to do? Wear MY seatbelt? Cause I don’t want to die, Eric. Don’t you go taking my seat belt. I mean, look out there! This is rush hour traffic! I’ll be surprised if we even make it to the corner without getting hit by some other vehicle.”

Angela’s laugh grew louder. Steven began to chuckle, and Fichter pulled out of the parking lot, carefully shifting gears.

“Okay, Iggy. I get it. I was bein-“

“Oh no, look out! There’s a speeding car heading right towards us! Whatever shall we do? Well, I know what you’re going do to, Eric. You’re going to get killed, cause you’re not wearing a seat belt.”

Gopher started laughing, and Angela began gasping for breath.

“Iggy, I get it. I was worried over noth-“

“This is the hay-day for drivers, Eric. I’m not sure you understand just how much danger you’re really in! Crazy drivers everywhere! Remember how many we saw on the way to the station? At least seven… MILLION!”

Iggy started laughing. Eric began to chuckle and Fichter tried to concentrate on the road. His eyes were beginning to water; trying to stifle the laughter he had growing inside of him. It blurred his vision, and soon enough, he had driven off of the road, clipping the side of a building. Eric had flown forward a tad, hitting his shoulder, but it was low impact. Fichter had been going at less than ten miles per hour when he clipped the building. He shifted down and stopped the car, to laugh.

Everyone in the car was laughing, even Eric who was nursing his bruised shoulder blade.

“Oh, well I’m glad I had a seatbelt on,” Iggy said through laughter.

“Me too!” Gopher said, clapping Eric on his shoulder. Eric winced.

When it finally died down, Fichter stepped out of his car to look at the damage. There wasn’t much. The paint on the front right hand side had been scraped; there was a tiny dent, but nothing to really worry about. Nothing that would shut his car down.

He stepped back inside of the car, slid the key into the ignition, and turned. The car didn’t start. He tried again. Nothing. He looked around at his gauges, and tried again.

“What’s wrong, Fichter?” Angela asked.

“It would appear that we’re out of gas.”

“So… We walking?” Eric said from the back.

“Hardly. You three are. I’m going to shift into neutral. There’s a station up the road for gas. A gas station. I think I might be able to get some fuel there,” he said, turning around. “You boys ready to push the car?”

It wasn’t right down the road. It wasn’t two blocks. It was fifteen blocks. They pushed the entire way, although Gopher was more than capable of doing it himself. They were sweaty and dirty again by the time they got to the gas station. Gopher ended up pushing the car to the pump when Iggy fell to his knees.

“Fifteen blocks I can handle, Eric. But up-hill? That’s just… It seems so unnecessary. Why didn’t we just get a gas tank to bring back?”

Eric helped Iggy up. “Hindsight is always 20/20 isn’t it, Iggs.”

Iggy half laughed, half coughed. Angela and Steven got out of the car and helped him to the bench outside of the convenience store. Fichter began to work on the pump, figuring out how to get fuel without electricity. Eric surveyed the scene.

The store was empty in that there were no people inside. There were chips and cases of soda. Big cases of water stacked by the front door, creating a half barricade the extended halfway to the ceiling. Low enough to see inside of the store. There was blood on the floor, but no visible body. There were also spent shotgun shells on the ground, which interested Eric.

“Guys, there’s a gun inside. I’m going to go take it.”

Before anyone could say anything, Eric had taken a flashlight and opened the double doors.

It was rank inside. The air was green with the stench of fetid and rotten flesh. Whoever had the gun was long gone. They wouldn’t mind Eric taking it at all. He made his way around the aisles, keeping his hand over his mouth to keep the air from getting in. It was a futile attempt, but the placebo effect was the only thing stopping him from dry heaving. He grabbed a pre-packaged item, stuffing it into his pocket, walking around to the counter.

The thing behind the counter still clutched the gun in his hand, but he wasn’t dead quite yet. He was breathing, with a paper towel pressed firmly against a wound in his neck.

Outside, Iggy was bashing the payphone box with the receiver, trying to get it to drop coins. Gopher was inside the car, trying to rest his eyes. Angela and Steven were standing at opposite ends of the lot, looking down the hill and up the hill. And Fichter was still trying to figure out how to operate the damn pump.

Fichter was a problem solver. He had done some extra study when he was in High School, for higher-level thinkers. He was sure he could get the pump to work: Physics was somewhat of his specialty from college as well. Fichter was growing impatient.

And inside, Eric was crouched over his man. He removed his hand from his mouth, and gagged. The smell was emanating from the wound in the man’s neck. Eric pulled the paper towel away and heaved. The flesh around the wound was rotting, ready to drop off. It would have already if the man had been lying at an angle where gravity would have been affecting the skin in a downward fashion.

He noticed behind the man a corpse that was missing the top of its head.

Eric lightly slapped the man. “Hey, hey.”

The man stirred.

“You’ve been bitten.”

His eyes opened. “No shit.”

Eric sat on his haunches trying to conceive the best way to tell the man that he was going to turn. He didn’t quite know how to phrase it. Luckily for Eric, while he was facing this moral dilemma, the man stood. Unluckily for Eric, the man was now but a shadow of his former self. The gun clattered to the ground as the thing lurched forwards. Eric used its weight against it and threw it over the counter.

In the parking lot, Iggy’s head began to hurt.

From behind the building, a Mind-Melder floated around the corner.

Eric dove to the ground, grabbing the shotgun. He stood as the man-thing began to try and climb back over the counter. Eric unloaded a shell into the things face and it flew backwards into the rack of potato chips, dead.

He searched under the counter for shells and found a box of fifty. The box said there were fifty inside, but it looked like there were only twenty or so left. Eric stuck the box into his pocket on top of the pre-packaged food and made his way to the front door. He swung it open.

“Don’t worry about that shot that was fired inside guys. Don’t rush to me all at once, it’s cool.”

He noticed Iggy passed out, face down on the ground. He noticed the Melder standing at the end of the parking lot, back to Eric. In its short stubby claws stood Angela and Fichter. Steven was being pulled towards it.

“Oh, shit.”

Eric walked up behind the Melder quietly, but still couldn’t get a bead on its head. He pulled the shotgun up to his shoulder and fired one round into the things back. It jerked forward, and began to turn around, throwing Angela and Fichter to the ground. Eric cocked the shotgun, the crisp sound cutting through the still air, and fired one more shell as the creature turned around to face him. Its head and sad eyes disappeared in a fine spray, and the thing collapsed to the ground in between Fichter and Angela.

Summarily, they began to snap out of it as Eric was walking back out of the store with warm bottles of water.

He tossed one to Steven, who was the first to break out of the mental lock. One flew at Fichter, bouncing off of his chest. One flew at Angela, bouncing off of her forehead.

Iggy was already to his feet, when Eric tossed the bottle to him.

“They’re not going to remember me throwing water bottles at them, are they?”

“Yes, we most certainly are,” Angela called from behind him, holding back a laugh.

Fichter walked back to his car, shaky, but finishing the fueling.

Eric turned to him. “How did you manage to fuel the car without electricity?”

Fichter smiled. “Long, complicated, you wouldn’t understand either way.”

Eric shook his head. “You’re probably right."

“Oh, I know I am.”

Eric, Angela and Steven began work their way back to the car, when Eric pulled Steven aside.

“They didn’t have bananas, but they did have this,” he said, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out the shotgun shells first.

“Not quite the same, Eric.”

“Oh, shut up. Those are for me. This is for you,” he said, reaching into the cargo pocket and crinkling the shrink-wrap. He pulled out the banana-nut muffin and handed it over. Steven smiled and began to walk back to the car.

Eric slid some shells into the shotgun, and set the gun down on the floor of the car. The shells went back into this pocket, as Fichter started the car and began to pull away.

“I didn’t say anything this time, did I?” Angela asked.

“Oh, I heard it all. You’re madly in love with me and we’re going to get married on a hilltop,” Eric said from the back.

“Did I really say that?”

Eric smiled. “No, I was in the store the entire time.”

Angela began to laugh. Soon the car was filled with laughter, cutting through the air and heading towards the coastline.

[natetheffrer]

In the beginning you spelling mid wrong, you put min. Also I think that is was odd that eric did nothing too the guy on they ground.

[Tasselfoot]

“I didn’t say anything this time, did I?” Angela asked.

Except... Angela wasn't told she said anything about Eric. Unless you went back and edited the story.

[MalReynolds]

In the other section, she's told that Eric killed the Melder before she had a chance to say anything. Both times, she didn't know what she said, but she's under the impression that it makes you speak. Lemme pull the quotes up.

Mal

The first encounter:

“She already knew about that.”

Angela turned.

“Is there anything else I should know about?”

Steven shook his head.

“No.”

She turned to face Iggy.

“Did I say anything?”

There was a long pause as Iggy thought about the question.

“No. You didn’t. Eric killed it before you had a chance to speak.”

At the Gas Station.

“I didn’t say anything this time, did I?” Angela asked.

Hope that clears things up.

[Eyoshi]

I thought the short transition from present-time to the past was a little unnoticable, as it just didn't seem that obvious when I looked through for the first time.
However, I thought that this part was a nice interlude between the "bigger" installments. The humor didn't seem to have been put there just for the sake of trying to make people laugh, which is good.

[MalReynolds]

They continued down the deserted roads, through the noonday sun, following the signs that would lead them to the Jersey Shore. Past signs advertising the fun escapism of Atlantic City; now was no time for fun escapism. They only followed the roads that had signs with the words “docking” or “marina”.

Several hours passed in the car with Iggy continuing to make seat-belt jokes. Gopher was trying desperately to sleep, but couldn’t sleep though Iggy’s almost continuous laughter. Angela and Steven were growing frustrated. Eric was resting his head in his hands, a bolt of pain shooting through his skull. All the while, Iggy kept on.

“Cause you NEED a seat-belt! Get it? It’s the law! Ha!”

Angela groaned, Steven sighed and Iggy started laughing again.

“Come on, guys, that one was classic! Classic! There is no law anymore! Get it?”

Eric turned and looked Iggy in the eye. “Yes, we get it Iggy. Some things just aren’t funny. Hey, Fichter? You want to take us to a farm so Iggy can beat a dead horse for real?”

Iggy’s face turned bright red. He shut up and quietly slid back into his seat, turning to face the window.

They rode in silence, Iggy embarrassed. Eric’s conscience began to gnaw on him as they approached their exit.

“Iggy, I didn’t mean it. It was kind of funny.”

“No, it wasn’t at all,” Gopher chimed from the other side of Eric. Eric shot him a look, and Gopher one again nestled and tried to fall asleep.

“Iggy, it was kind of funny. Right guys?”

No one answered, save for Fichter. He grunted, although that might have been a sneeze. Iggy turned to face Eric.

“Don’t try and make me feel better. I know it was stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Really, Iggy?”

“Yup.”

“Good man. You’re a better man than I am, Ig-“

“Don’t worry about it, cause if we get into a car accident I’m going to live.” He began laughing again. There was a simultaneous groan that rode throughout the car, not quite reaching Iggy’s ears through his own laughter.

The sign loomed in the distance, hard to see behind the sun. The glare made it look like a black rectangle. Fichter pulled down the sun-visor and squinted.

“CLARK’S LANDING; EXIT 218B.”

Below that, “POINT PLEASANT, EXIT 218A.”

“Look, Iggy. Point Pleasant. That sounds fun, doesn’t it?” Eric said in a futile attempt to raise the downtrodden spirits in the metal cage.

“Sounds fun. Won’t be,” he said, turning away from Eric and back to the window.

Fichter pulled the car onto the exit and rode into the once thriving beach-front community. Deserted hotels played guard to the beach as they drove through, trying to find any indicator of Clark’s Landing. Most of the signs in town had been taken down, scribbled over. Amateur graffiti artists had run rampant after hearing news that the military and police forces were summarily being decimated. Instead of helping others, they helped themselves by painting over any helpful indicators that would lead Eric and the others to Clark’s Landing.

Fichter pulled the car over.

“I think we need a map if we’re going to find Clark’s Landing,” he said, not directly to anyone.

“Well,” Eric started from the back, “Why don’t we just drive over the beach in one direction for an hour, and if we don’t run into it there, we can always double back. It’s not like we have any shortage of time, do we?”

“No, but I can’t take this car onto the beach. That’s running an enormous risk in and of itself. What if the car got stuck? We’d be waylaid here in this deserted tourist local. Not exactly the most safe or secret place to be stranded, either. Hotels, motels, beach houses. Inconspicuous, this place ain’t.”

Steven nodded. Angela turned to face the others.

“Fichter’s right,” she said, as he did a silent fist pump. “We need a map. There’s got to be some kind of tourist information center somewhere. Hell, maybe a hotel lobby would have a map or at least a phone book with an address.”

“I take it this means Iggy, Gopher and I are going to be doing some legwork while you all sit in the car and keep it running in case something happens?”

“Well… Yes,” she said.

Eric let out a heavy sigh. “Alright. Guys, let’s go. There’s a hotel right there,” he said, indicating to the dark monolith beside them. “Let’s get a map and get out. Won’t be more than a few minutes in there.” Eric leaned over to Iggy and whispered in his ear, “We going to run into any trouble in there?”

He nodded. “But nothing we can’t handle,” he opened the door and stepped out, leaning town and touching his toes.

“Fichter, pop the trunk.”

Iggy reached in and pulled out his bag of supplies. Eric took the shotgun from the floor and Gopher picked up a tire iron out of the trunk. Iggy handed a flashlight to Eric and Gopher, tossing a role of tape to Eric.

“Tape the light to the gun. Make things a little easier. Flash-light mod, anyone?”

Eric chuckled as he used the duct tape to make the flashlight a semi-permanent addition to his shotgun.

The doors to the hotel swung open quietly as Eric stepped through the door, light emanating from the barrel of his gun. The floor reflected the light poorly; what was once polished marble now sat covered in dust and blood. The wooden reception desk bathed in the eerie light from Eric’s gun as he approached.

Iggy scouted the ceiling for any sign that would point them in the direction of acquiring a map faster. Eric set his gun down on the counter and vaulted over.

“Showoff,” Iggy said, stepping through the employee entrance.

Eric grabbed his gun and began to look through the papers on the desk. There were some about safe-house locations that had been compromised, military installations that had been wiped out, guests in room 47 that were having sex too loudly and a band in the roof-top suite that had taken a penchant to throwing hotel property from the roof. Nothing useful. Eric stepped away from the counter, and Iggy approached shining his light. He closed his eyes and opened a drawer, pulling out a single sheet of paper.

“MEMO: To the information staff. Subject: New Map Shipment. We have to get these new maps distributed, and to the best of my knowledge, they’re still setting in a box in the back room. Could anyone care to explain why they haven’t been put in the tourist information stand yet? These maps need to be distributed today or else heads will roll.”

“Eric, I found something,” Iggy said, crumpling the memo and tossing it over the counter.

“Guys, there’s nothing here,” Gopher called from the kiosk. Eric turned his light to Gopher, who was standing the center. Eric saw a Creep climb up behind him.

“Gopher, behind you!”

Gopher swung around, bringing the tire iron across the creatures head. It fell the ground.

“Nice shot, Gopher,” Iggy said, coming out from behind the counter, catching a splinter in his finger. “Ow, Dammit.”

“I meant to do that, too,” Gopher beamed.

“Alright, according to this memo Iggy dug up, they should have some maps in the back room. Where the back room is, I have no idea. I think we should split up.”

Iggy and Gopher began to protest when Eric cut them off.

“Just kidding. Alright, let’s think about this logically. Down that hall,” he shined his light above the door on the placard, “are the elevators and stairs. Down that hall,” he turned his light behind him, “Is the gift shop. There’s a door at the end of the gift-shop hall, which I can only assume is the storage area? So, let’s get cracking.”

They made their way down the carpeted hallway, past the glass wall that separated them from the gift shop. Iggy stared through the glass, watching Creeps dance around, throwing books into the air.

“Just keep it quiet, guys. We got company on the other side of this wall.”

Eric nodded, reaching the door. The sign next to it claimed Eric was correct.

“Storage room.”

He tried the door, but no dice. Gopher stepped forward, and tried pulling the handle down harder. He only succeeded in breaking the handle off at the turn, leaving part of the knob.

Eric watched the things in the gift-shop climb to the top of a shelf, and three of them begin to push it down. He trained his shotgun on the door, and when the shelf hit the ground, he fired a shell into the handle.

The shelf hit the ground, and the Creeps jumped and began to laugh. One of them looked out the glass wall and saw the door to the back shutting. It thought nothing of it and began to rip the head off of a teddy bear, throwing the fluff into the air.

The room was dank and carried an air of wetness. There had been an AC leak in there a few days prior, and when the power shut down, the water fell out of the unit in torrents, soaking many of the card board boxes.

“Alright, guys. Start opening shit up. We’re bound to get a map sooner or later.”

It was later rather than sooner. There was much in the way of assorted crap in these boxes, mainly hotel amenities. One box had been filled with soft-core porn, ambiguously titled. More items for the gift shop, including a box of Scuba-Knives, which Gopher helped himself to. Iggy took one to get the splinter out of his finger when they had light. Eric continued to tear the room apart.

“Well, this sucks,” he said in defeat, sitting down. “Anything you can do, Iggy? You getting a feeling about where the maps are?”

Iggy closed his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts. He couldn’t with the splinter in his finger, but he could see something in the corner of his mind.

“Oh, yeah. You’re sitting on them.”

Eric stood and turned around quickly, pointing his light at the box. The top was clearly labeled “POINT PLEASANT MAPS”. Eric opened it with one of Gophers knives, and grabbed four maps.

The Creeps had grown disinterested with the gift shop. They had taken back to the hallway when one noticed the handle to the door of the room they couldn’t get in was missing. He hissed to his contemporaries and motioned at the door. They walked up, one of them pushing the door open.

“Iggy, get down!”

Iggy ducked as Eric fired at shot at the door, knocking it back shut.

“Gopher, start moving shit in front of the door. Iggy, let’s hold it shut.”

They pressed themselves against the door as Gopher began to slide boxes of books across the floor. Several books fell out as he slid it into position, and he hastily kicked them away as he slid another box. He lifted this one over and on top of the initial box, and went back to get another.

Iggy and Eric stopped holding the door and began to move boxes of lighter material with him. Iggy picked up one of the books, as the last box slid into place.

“Alright, we’re safe in here,” Eric said breathlessly. “Now, we just wait until they lose interest. Or we could go out and fight. You guys, it’s your call.”

“I got a better idea,” Iggy said. “Let’s go out of that fire escape, right over there.”

“We need to vote on the motion,” Gopher said.

“Shut up, Gopher,” Eric said walking to the escape. He slowly pushed it open and daylight poured into the room. A Creep stood squarely in the doorframe and Eric promptly shot it in the face.

The group made their way back from the alley and to the car, which was idling. Fichter had his window rolled down and was leaning out, swinging his arm back and forth with his gun.

“Fichter, what are you doing?”

“Keeping… The area secured?”

The three climbed back into the car and handed the stack of maps to Fichter.

“One would have sufficed, you know.”

“So would a ‘thanks’,” Iggy said.

“We were going the wrong way,” he indicated to the map. “It’s a couple miles back thattaway.”

Fichter threw the car into reverse and took off down the alley, backwards. He ran over the corpse of the Creep before putting it into first gear and gunning it, taking off out of the alley like a bat out of hell. He took a sharp left and began to drag down the strip.

“Is there any reason you’re going so fast? It’s not like we have a shortage of time, Fichter,” Eric called from the back.

“I hate it when people say that, Eric. Besides, this is our salvation we’re heading to. The sooner we get there, the better.”

It was a matter of a few hundred seconds before the sign for Clark’s Landing came into view. The sign itself was sky blue and was almost camouflaged against the clear sky. Fichter slowed the car, and took a left into the landing. He parked professionally in a handicapped spot before turning the car off.

“Let’s go find a boat, guys.”

They all filed out of the car, Iggy opening his new book, “The Quilt and Other Assorted Tales,” to the jacket, reading about the author. Something caught his eye.

They made their way down the pier to the boat landings. It was barren. There were no boats.

“There are no boats here,” Steven said.

“Yeah, thanks, I hadn’t noticed,” Eric retorted as he walked down one of the docks. He gazed down into the water and noticed the staff of one boat sticking above the surface.

“Correction, Steve-o. There are plenty of boats. Only problem here is, all of em’ are sunk.”

Steve collapsed to the wooden dock, crying.

“Good plan, good plan,” he kept whispering to himself.

Iggy stood at the back of the group, reading through the jacket and biting at the splinter before he finally spoke up.

“I have an idea.”

Steve stood up, furious.

“WHAT THE HELL IS WITH YOU AND ALL OF YOUR IDEAS? WHY DO ALL OF THEM WORK OUT? I DON’T GET IT! EVERY TIME IT WORKS!”

Iggy looked at Eric and then back at Steven.

“It’s strange, and even if I told you you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me,” Steven said.

“Alright… Well… I think I’m a psychic.”

Steven stood speechless. Fichter turned around.

“Like, you can see the future?”

Iggy bit at the splinter. “Somewhat. I didn’t know this idea was going to bust, though. It’s odd. I can’t see everything that’s going to happen. But when I was reading this book jacket, the author is from Virginia. I got a good vibe off of that. I think that’s where we’re supposed to be headed.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this earlier?” Steven said, beginning to calm down.

“Like I said, I can’t see everything. Something usually has to set it off. As much as this is like Final Fantasy, it’s not quite there yet. There has to be a trigger. Like seeing my sister again. I think that did something. But most of the future is blind to me until I find the trigger.” He started smiling.

“Alright, guys, let’s get back to the car,” Eric said.

Iggy’s lower lip overflowed with blood. His smile had changed very quickly into something else, a sick grin. A tear slid down his cheek as his tongue changed from red to silver, a blade being pushed through his mouth. His legs gave out, and he slid to the deck. Behind him, a Creep stood, pulling his sword out of Iggy’s head.

Without thinking, Eric ran at the thing and tackled it, pushing it to the dock. He blindly beat at the creature, breaking its neck with the first blow. He continued to beat its head until nothing was left but a body and a neck that gushed the blood of the Creeps. The body made a splash as Eric threw it into the ocean. He ran over to Iggy’s unmoving body.

From the far dock, the distinct cackle was heard. Fichter gazed down the pier to the end, where a dozen of the creatures had emerged from a sea-shed. They were quickly making their way down the dock towards everything good.

“Eric, we have to go now. We have to go NOW!” Fichter cried out, running. He pulled Angela, who was beginning to weep and Steven who was standing speechless. Fichter had to physically pull Eric away from the body, and they began to run. Eric turned around and ran to the dock, picking his gun up, double stepping back to the group. He looked down at Iggy’s body, picking up the book, and all he could think was, “I’m sorry.”

They piled into the car and set off towards the interstate silently. They were all sorry. Eric opened the book to the first page and began to read.