Killer Koala Bears From Another Dimension Part 11

Tim glanced at the rock for a second. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bulls.h.i.+t, Tim. You know exactly what I'm talking about," Joana scoffed, done playing games. "This rock is just like the stones you got from that stupid witch. The ones you used to open up all those portals and let those f.u.c.king bears loose... you know, those stones."

Frank stood up, the machete still in his hand. "Do... what?"

Tim took two large steps back.

"Tim got some magic stones from that crazy old lady and used them to open all those portals. He even knew about the field dropping down around us. There's no way to get out either."

"What the f.u.c.k!" Frank leaped forward, snagging Tim by the s.h.i.+rt collar before he could get away. He slammed him into the side of the Jimmy. His long dark hair danced in front of his skinny pale face. Frank lifted the machete and shouted, "Give me one good f.u.c.king reason why I shouldn't cut you up right here, you little s.h.i.+t."

"Please... no..."

"Shut it!" Frank glared at Joana, and then turned his attention back to Tim. Still pinned against the Jimmy, Frank shoved him hard again and brought the machete to his face. "So let me get this straight! My friend Outlaw here is dead... because of you. Kathie has gone missing and could be any f.u.c.king where, because of you. My f.u.c.king dog! My dog, Captain is dead, because of you!"

"Look, man," Tim protested, trying to squirm free. It was no use.

Joana thought to plead for Tim's life, but didn't know what to say. Frank was going to go through with it. She just knew it. It was in his eyes. That maddening look. Maybe Tim deserved it. All of this was his fault. h.e.l.l, maybe it was just as much her fault, too. Maybe she should take the blame. Maybe then Frank would take her out of her misery. Then she could die in peace knowing that the situation hadn't totally changed her, made her entirely heartless. If she was going to die, she wanted to die with at least a little heart left.

"Please, no..." Joana said softly. "He knows what's happened. Between him and Miss Yortsdayle, we have a chance... Please!"

Frank glared at her hard and long, his eyes never wavering from that mad look of pure carnal hatred. Joana felt her heart race, beating against her chest even faster with the growing tension. Frank's grip on Tim tightened and he slammed the scrawny gothic kid against the car again.

"Please..." Joana's voice was soft.

Frank shook his head with disapproval, raised the machete at Tim, and yelled as the blade came down fast.

13.

The sharp blade slammed down hard. The loud metallic clank echoed across the highway pavement, the machete crashed down hard on the Jimmy's hood right next to Tim.

Joana screamed while clutching her eyes shut tight.

"What the f.u.c.k, yo?" The voice wavered with a hint of distress.

It was Tim's voice. He was alive.

Joana opened her eyes, her heart still racing. Frank loosened his grip on Tim, but not after shoving him hard once more into the side of the truck. The machete was still in Frank's hand. A large dent in the Jimmy's hood next to Tim left sc.r.a.pes of white paint on the center of the large blade. Frank flung the machete to the ground glaring at both Tim and Joana. The metal blade clinked and pinged against the asphalt, coming to rest in a puddle of blood next to Outlaw's corpse. The quarter sized hole in the gruff man's chest had seeped out a tremendous amount of blood in the short time they had been on the street. It pooled around his s.h.i.+rtless body, the work s.h.i.+rt tossed to the side a few feet from the Jimmy.

Joana gripped the small stone in her hand, squeezing it hard as the silence built awkwardly around them.

Frank finally tore his eyes away from the two Goths, and gazed at the tattered and b.l.o.o.d.y work s.h.i.+rt peeled from Outlaw's carca.s.s. Breathing a heavy sigh and running his fingers through his hair, he unzipped his coveralls just low enough to reach into his jean pockets. He grabbed his cigarettes and lit one up before stuffing the pack back into his pants. He puffed on the cigarette a few times, exhaling a plume of smoke over his head and then zipped his coveralls back up. He stepped away from the Jimmy and turned his back to Tim and Joana.

"Look... I..." Tim started to say, but Joana locked eyes with him and shook her head.

"Just give him a minute," she whispered.

Frank stood there in silence, not once looking back at his two new friends. With each tender drag of the cigarette he seemed to calm down. It was clear; he was thinking about something.

When he was finally done, he turned back around, dropped the b.u.t.t to the cement and stepped on it.

"I just think we-"

Frank shook his head, cutting Joana off. "I don't know what's going on or why or how. And frankly, I don't want to know, okay?" His words were calm and a.s.sertive. Putting both palms in the air facing Tim and Joana, he said "Look... As much as I want to say I over reacted, I didn't, and I sure as s.h.i.+t ain't sorry. If you really do have something to do with all this c.r.a.p, all I can say is..." He pointed a finger at Tim, his voice still calm. "You got what's coming to you. Trust me."

"What the h.e.l.l is that supposed to mean?" Tim barked.

"Don't even push me, punk." Frank stepped forward. "From what I can tell, you've given me good enough reason to kill you right here... right now. You got that?"

His eyes didn't waver. He just stared Tim down. Tim swallowed hard and nodded, still leaning against the truck.

"I..." Joana started to say.

"I wasn't talking to you," Frank hissed. "Now, I said... do... you... got... that?"

Tim nodded.

"Good..." Frank leaned over Tim making the Gothic teen s.h.i.+ver with fear. He grabbed the shotgun from the hood off the Jimmy and pointed it at the boy. "You're probably wondering why I'm even keeping you alive. h.e.l.l, I'm asking myself that same d.a.m.n question."

Frank shook his head, tossed the shotgun back into the Jimmy and started to climb into the driver's seat.

"Why?" Tim asked, his voice wavering.

"Because..." Frank said, slamming the driver's side door shut and rolling down the window. "You know something I don't. And on our way back into town, you're going to tell me everything you know. Now get in."

"But what about the body?" Joana said, looking down at Outlaw's corpse still leaning against the Jimmy.

"What about it?"

"We can't just leave it here like this. It just isn't right."

"Hey... don't get me wrong," Frank said, sticking his head out the window. "The guy was nice and all, but I didn't know the man. Did you?"

"No, but we can't just leave him here. Those bears will do things to his remains. What if this was you?"

"Joana..." Frank said, pointing out of the truck at the body. "That isn't me. And if it were... do you think I would really give a s.h.i.+t? I'd be dead. Now let's go. Both of you... get in."

Joana sighed. She wasn't the only one being hardened by the events of the night. She hadn't known Frank very well, but she had gotten a sense of who he was. And a heartless killer with no compa.s.sion definitely wasn't something she thought she would have ever seen in him. She just shook her head and rounded the truck with Tim to get in. Funny thing was, she didn't really care either. She just knew that in the movies they always took the time to bury their dead regardless of the circ.u.mstances.

I guess real life just isn't the movies.

She climbed into the back seat with Tim, afraid of the future.

Frank put the Jimmy in gear and took off down the road, once more headed back toward town. Joana looked back and watched as the truck created distance between them and the tire repairman's unmoving body. It was sad. What was sad wasn't that it was happening. No, what was sad was that even in the middle of it all, she wasn't sad. Just like that woman with the slippers in the cop car; at least it wasn't her.

"So start talking, Tim," Frank said from up front, his voice stern.

Tim reached over, taking Joana into his arms and sighed.

That was when he confessed.

He told Frank everything. How he was related to Miss Yortsdayle. And that everyone's a.s.sumptions about her were partially true. She wasn't a witch, but she did know quite a bit about the dark arts and about spiritual things in general. He told him about the sack of stones that she had given him and how they would open up the portal to another world. He pleaded, swearing up and down that he didn't mean any harm to anyone and that doing the Geomancy ritual had just been his hope of leaving this world for a better one. Frank wasn't having any of that, so he went back to the details. The details of how he knew about the possible existence of the Arktos creatures. There were many stories about other worldly creatures. There were worlds beyond worlds out there. Other dimensions. He admitted that although his aunt told him about the Arktos, he didn't believe that humanoid bears could exist.

"Yeah, just like portals to another realm don't exist, right?" Frank scoffed, rolling his eyes at the Gothic teen through the rearview mirror.

"Look, man," Tim cried, holding Joana tight. "You wanted me to tell you about it... I'm telling you about it."

"That's all well and good, but can we send them back?" Joana asked.

"I don't know," Tim said. "My aunt says they will leave when the portals close."

"And when is that?" Frank grunted.

"I don't know that either."

"Well, what the h.e.l.l do you know then?" Frank gritted his teeth, keeping his eyes on the winding road.

"I know that we need to go to her house. If anyone can tell us how to stop this thing and give us some answers... it's my aunt."

"f.u.c.k that!" Frank chuckled.

The truck fell silent, Frank's high school ta.s.sel swinging from side to side under the rearview mirror.

"Well, you got a better idea?" Joana asked.

"Yes, I do! We're headed to my work. If Kathie went anywhere, it would be there."

14.

The parking lot of the recreation center bustled with chaotic activity. Things were becoming stranger than they had already been before.

"Hold the line!"

"What the h.e.l.l's happening, Captain?"

"Do I look like I know, Officer?" Captain Grimes shouted, squeezing the trigger of his 9mm for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Just keep firing!"

The Rec Center parking lot was a warzone.

More than twenty cars formed a line on one side of the lot to the other creating a single barricade of both police and civilian vehicles. With their backs to the large recreation center building as a protection from the rear, the firing line did what they could to keep the strange otherworldly attackers at bay.

In the midst of the chaos and panic, Captain Grimes had managed to pull together more than half of the small town's police force along with a hefty chunk of the armed citizens of Lewisburg. If you asked him how he had managed such a daunting task in the midst of such turmoil, he wouldn't have been able to tell you. In truth, a lot of it was sheer luck. He had managed to corral what civilians and police that were out in the streets doing the same thing he found himself doing after being abruptly awakened by the bear-like intruders; fighting for survival. None of the radios worked. His cellphone was shot and no one knew exactly what the h.e.l.l was going on. That was another thing not quite explainable. He wasn't sure if he would live through the night. If he did make it to see another day, there was no way in h.e.l.l anyone would believe him. Killer koala bears from another dimension wasn't an everyday occurrence. While he stood pulling the trigger, reloading, and pulling the trigger again, he had a hard time convincing himself it was true. He was just thankful to know that the right to bear arms was still in effect. Because it was that right to bear that was helping them even fight these... these f.u.c.king bears. He chuckled at that and pulled the trigger again.

"I'm out!" The officer beside him shouted, ducking behind a patrol car. His eyes were like Captain Grimes had seen countless times. Fear filled. His lip quivered as he dug through the duffle bag on the ground between them for another clip. "We're going to die..."

"Don't say that, officer," Grimes said, firing a shot and then ducking down behind the same patrol car, but not before seeing one of those bear-things take the bullet in the chest. He smiled. "Here... let me see if I can find what you need."

He came away with a fresh clip for the young officer beside him, and then snuck a peek at the chaos on the other side of the car. Guns of almost every make and model reverberated around him with an endless cacophony of fire. It had been going on like this for more than an hour now and there was no telling how much longer they would be able to stand. Ammunition would run out sooner or later. By the looks of it, sooner would come quicker than later. He looked up and down both sides of the barricade of cars. Men wearing camouflage wielded long range hunting rifles. Others wore the same thing as the captain-practically nothing but an unders.h.i.+rt and boxer shorts. Among the twenty-car barricade, there had to be at least forty men, all doing their best to keep those beasts at bay.

On the other side of the firing line things looked much different. A torrent of arrows and strange glowing rocks rained down around them. The trick was to keep those crazy bears far enough out that their aerial attacks couldn't reach the safe zone. So far, for the most part, the surge of fire power had managed to do that. But that was about all it was doing. For every single bear that fell, two more seemed to take its place. The street was full of those things.

When the young officer beside him finally got the clip reloaded, and leaned up to start firing again, Captain Grimes glanced over the patrol car and pulled the trigger.

f.u.c.kin' death trap, he thought, leaning back down behind the cruiser.

From the looks of it, the street just beyond the recreation center parking lot was overrun with those creatures. He wasn't good with numbers, but just from a quick glance, he had to guess there were at least five of them for every one behind the barricade. Something had to give, and soon.

"Where the h.e.l.l are they all comin' from?" A large man named Taiter with a graying big beard grumbled. He lifted his hunting rifle, peering into the scope and he pulled the trigger.

Grimes followed the gun's line of sight and watched the large man's deadly accuracy. The bear took the bullet right between the eyes. Blood spurted at the center of his head, the back gushed an explosive spread of brain and grey matter.

"No idea... Taiter." Captain Grimes said, squeezing off two shots before ducking down. He and Taiter, along with several of the other men in the line had gone hunting together countless times. As much as having a familiar face at his side, this was somehow much different than shooting at deer and hogs. "What the h.e.l.l you think's goin' on?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, old man," Taiter said, dispensing the sh.e.l.l from his rifle and reloading. He shook his head, his big graying bear rattling his chin. "I don't know much, but looks like they're comin' from those lights at the far end."

Grimes stole a glance at where Taiter pointed. Sure enough, there were a few strange beams of light and those bears were climbing in and out of it like it was some kind of doorway.

"I don't-" Taiter started to say.

The young officer on Grimes' other side shrieked. When Grimes and Taiter looked, it was too late for the young officer. One of the bears had gotten close enough, throwing an arrow right over the barricade. The young officer fell limp to the ground beside the duffle bag of ammunition, the small spear sticking out of his left eye. Blood ran down his cheek.

"s.h.i.+t..." Grimes breathed.

"I'm totally out," another officer said, crawling up beside Grimes and Taiter. "Oh well... they got Pete."

"Yeah..." Grimes grimaced, looking down at the arrow sticking out of the young officer's face. "Here... take this." He reached down, taking Pete's gun and handing it to him.

"Thanks," the officer said, taking the 9mm.

Grimes nodded, shoving the officer to move down the line and keep firing.

He acknowledged and moved on.

Grimes and Taiter watched the officer move three cars down before stopping, taking aim, and unloading the 9mm on those things.

Taiter raised the rifle again, took aim with the scope and pulled the trigger. The report didn't even seem that loud. With all the other guns going off around Grimes, it was drowned out by all the others. His ears rang and although he didn't see the animal take the bullet, Grimes knew Taiter had hit his target. The smile plastered on his face suggested yet again another precise hit. He smiled back at the big man, then aimed and fired off a few rounds himself. The pistol stung in his hand with each pull of the trigger. His bones were getting too old for this. Each time he pulled the trigger, pain ran down his arms to his arthritic elbows and up his shoulders to his boney back. He gritted his teeth against the pain with every shot, just happy to know that there was one less of those things left to face.