Birds, Beast, Bull

Johnson slams her fists on the warm dashboard.

“Security systems faulty.” The monitor flashes red. Around us, its happening in all the other cars. “Failure Imminent.”

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. There’s no way we can make it to the docking station now. No shields, no guns, no camouflage. I signal to the others and we make our triangle.

I don’t want to die this way. But I guess this is my fault.

My daughter knew this would happen. She said, “If you get on that ship, you won’t see me or Joshua ever again.”

And here I am.

On another fucking planet.

Thud, thud, thud.

Is it my heart, or the thing that’s been chasing us? It’s anybody’s guess.

Until Johnson start screaming “It’s coming!” over and over again.

The other cars detach themselves from the formation. One, probably Martinez, shoots a flare at it to scare it away.

He saw what Johnson saw. What I’m seeing.

The hulking behemoth, poised to overtake us.

A squeak, almost a laugh, escapes my mouth when a car gets trampled, spewing the acidic liquid we’ve been using as gas. The driver uses the emergency hammer to break the window and climbs out. He tries to limp away, his left leg bending the wrong direction and leaking blood. I’m not laughing anymore when a colossal bird larger than any giraffe swoops out of nowhere and picks him up. We watch in horror as he goes beyond the reach of our headlights. I slam my foot down on the brake.

“What are you doing?” Johnson screams.

My heart is going harder and faster than I can remember it going before. “Formations-"

“Fuck formations! If we can’t get to base, we’re going to die. Be it the beast or the birds.” She reaches across and down, pressing the gas with her hand. The engine revs, but my foot is still on the brake.

“Sinclair!” Johnson hits my foot, but I can’t move. She pressed down on the gas again. The engine revs louder. “Sinclair!”

In the rear view mirror, the beast gets bigger and bigger. Pieces of cars and people lay all around where everyone else left the group. Broken lights flicker, doing their best to illuminate the darkness.

Looking over her shoulder, Johnson makes one more grab at my leg. “Amelie, move your goddamn-”

The beast snaps at our car, leaving only the left half. My half. I would scream, but I can’t even breathe.

Johnson’s ghost is going to haunt me forever. “Should’ve let me drive,” she’d said.

Now I’m covered in her blood. Her lower body falls out the massive hole in the side of the car.

I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles whiten. What would she say? Something like, “I’ll be damned if I’m getting eaten by that monster.” I’ll be damned if I let Johnson die for nothing.

I lean hard to the right. The car falls on its side, and I’m trapped in between the car and the blood stained dirt. The only thing I can hear is my own heartbeat and the stupid car screaming “System Failure, Please Evacuate” on repeat.

The monster sniffs at my car. Its lips peel back in a tooth-filled, bloodstained, grin. Saliva falls through the cracked windshield. It drips onto my face. I don’t scream, but I want to.

The monster gets ready to ram into the car, but something rams it first. A shape emerges from the darkness and charges into the monster, sending it flying away.

I don’t wait for a second chance. I unbuckle my seat belt. The windshield is already cracked, so I grab the emergency hammer.

Crack

Warning. Windshield Damage. Please Evacuate Immediately.

I need this to go faster.

Crack

Warning, Windshield Damage. Please Evacuate Immediately.

I need to get out.

Crack

Warning, Windshield Damage. Please Evacuate Immediately.

Crack

With a final hit, glass shatters. I try to get out without touching any of it but I end up with an armful of cuts.

Outside of the car, the darkness is suffocating. I can’t breathe, I can’t hear, and I can’t see two feet in front of my face. But I have to make it back to base.

Through the silence, I hear a heavy exhalation. I make a quick turn and have to bite the inside of my cheek so I don’t scream.

Staring at me is the biggest bull I’ve ever seen.

Its eyes are glowing bright enough to make my face heat up. They pierce through me, searching my soul. My chest gets tight. I breathe from my mouth so my nose doesn’t whistle. If it does, the birds might hear me. I start sweating and shivering at the same time. When I try to stop shivering, my teeth chatter so violently that a bird swoops down. I drop to the ground so it misses me.

On the bird’s way back up, there’s a loud squawk and then a crunch.

The bull lowers its face, chewing. The blood and saliva from every breath makes my hair cling to my forehead. I reach out to touch its snout, like they do in movies but hesitate. It’s a wild animal. It could eat me. I pull my hand back. It would eat me.

It puts its snout up to my hand. The wet, leathery texture is a dramatic change from all of the smooth metal of the station or the tightly-packed, blood stained dirt. I stroke the space between its nostrils as I collect my thoughts.

All of my coworkers and friends are dead. No problem. I have no mode of transportation. That’s fine. I have no idea how to get to base. That’s… that’s not so fine.

The bull blinks. The sudden darkness makes my heart stop. I cling to its nose like a septum piercing.

The bull stands up. If I fall, I’m going to die and it’ll all be for nothing. I can’t even see the ground anymore. If the bull moves too fast, I’ll die for sure. I dig my nails in.

Wind whips past my face. Bull breath. It plays with my hair and tries to dislodge the boogers in the bull’s nose. If one of the green, gooey globs does get loose, I’m done for.

Thud. The bull takes a step. Thud. Another step. For the first time in years, I say a small prayer, lips moving but no sound coming out. I thank the powers that be for Johnson making me work out with her and her husband.

Her husband. Who I’ll have to see again and tell him I killed his wife.

We clomp along for a few minutes. The view would be wonderful if this planet wasn’t practically devoid of light. And if it didn’t provide me endless opportunities to come up with a new way to die, most involving letting go.

In the distance, I see a light. A bright beacon. This bull was taking me to the station. I squeezed its nose a little tighter to show affection, and relax my grip. I need to conserve my strength. I can’t tell how far away the light is.

When we get close enough to the light that I can see small birds circling, the bull bends its front knees. The ground comes into view, and my arms give out. I fall to the ground in a small pile of something soft enough to cushion my landing. Before it raises its head, the bull waits expectantly. We stare at each other. It nods, but doesn’t leave. I pet it on the nose, and it heads off.

Thud, thud, thud

I smile and head towards the station. But something stops me. The large birds that had joined the smaller ones, circling. I’m a fresh corpse and they’re starving vultures, ready to pounce. And the adrenaline is wearing off.

Do I run? Do I keep to the edges of the darkness and avoid them? The choice is made for me when a group of humongous frogs run into me, knocking me into the view of the birds.

So I run. I use every ounce of stamina I have left to get to the station. Some of the birds descend on the giant frogs, but most follow me.

Thud.

I run faster. Is the bull back?

Thud.

The door is only a foot away. I scream, a last ditch effort to alert the people inside to open the door before I get there.

Thud.

I slam into the door and pound on it. The birds close in as the keypad pops out. I type in the code, but the screen turns red.

Incorrect Passcode. Please try again.

All for nothing. This was all for nothing. I should’ve stayed in the car or let the stupid monster eat me because I’m as good as dead out here.

Thud.

I type the password in again, and the screen turns red again.

Incorrect Passcode. Please try again.

Something brushes against my foot. The flare gun.

Thud.

My hands tremble as I shove the flare into the gun, but I’m perfectly still when I fire at the biggest bird. It hits in between its eyes, and the bird catches on fire.

Thud.

The bird lets out the most human scream I could’ve imagined and takes to the sky, ablaze. Other birds do the same, following the moving light.

THUD!

The bull bursts into the clearing, kicking its front legs at imaginary birds, but there’s nothing here except a few dead frogs. I run out and wave my arms, trying to signal I’m okay. It’s selfish, but I can’t shake the feeling it came back for me.

When it calms down, it lowers itself onto its front legs. I pet its nose and start to cry.

“They’re dead,” I whisper. “And it’s my fault.” My vision gets blurry and clouded with tears as the events of the day catch up with me. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. I know the bull can’t understand my words, but I would rather cry here than in the cold steel and disinfected stench of the base.

The bull closes its eyes and I almost feel understanding radiating from its snout.

I hear the station door open. I look over my shoulder at the last members of my team. A doctor, a rocket scientist, and a politician. The beginning of a bad joke. The doctor grabbed my arm and pulled me into the airlock.

“Where’s everyone else?” the politician demands as the door closes. I turn and face them. Slowly, I shake my head.

“All of them?” the doctor asks. I nod. If I open my mouth, I will blubber and cry. Again. And I need to seem more together.

The politician stalks up to me and grabs my collar. “We put you at the front because you follow orders. Once the shields and radios went down, you were supposed to make sure everyone else followed you. You failed. We’re sending you back with the next supply rocket.” He spits in my face. “You are disgusting. Standing here while your crewmates are God knows where-”

“I know where they are.” My voice is dry and hollow. The piles of car and human parts fill my vision and I close my eyes. When he lets go of me, I fall to my knees.

“What?” On the t, the politician enunciates and blows hot air in my face.

“I know where they are. Sir.” I stare at the ground.

The doctor comes towards us and pulls the politician away from me. He whispers something to the man and smiles at me. “Where are they?”

I shake my head. I can’t form words. Or at least not those words. And not to him.

The doctor smiles harder. More like baring his teeth. “Where. Are. They?”

“Where the GPS turned off.” That’s all I can say. I can’t say that they’re in pieces. I can’t say all of them might not be there.

The doctor raises his hand but he stops at the apex. “You left her-them. You left them there?”

Tears welled up in my eyes. “I didn’t have a choice.”

He hits the thin metal wall. I flinch. “You always have a choice,” he growls. “And who’s blood is that?” I can’t answer that, so I don’t even try.

“We’ll start searching as soon as we get more people up here.” The politician takes out his phone and walks back to the station.

More people? After what happened? “They’re dead!” I scream. “They’re not missing! They’re fucking dead! Who’s blood do you think this is? It sure as hell isn’t mine!”

Doctor Johnson throws the picture frame of his wife. The glass shatters a few feet to my right. I can’t look. I can’t see her face again.

The rocket scientist helps me into a chair. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

I nod and reach up to try to wipe some of the dried blood off. When my hand comes into view, completely maroon, I collapse sideways onto the steel floor as my body gives out.

The end.