Killer Koala Bears From Another Dimension Part 4

It would be only a matter of seconds before those monsters were on them. Killing them. Eating them. Or worse. A flash of what was to come jarred her from the situation, her mind leaving Tim all alone once more. The creatures reached them. Taking Tim first, Joana was left cowering in the corner of the alley balling her eyes out as she watched them make Tim suffer. In her mind's eye it made her feel better that Tim had to suffer first. That scared her. Tim had been holding her back and she was about to pay the price for it. Maybe she didn't care for him as much as she thought she had. Maybe she was just a selfish b.i.t.c.h and that's why no one else but Tim really liked her. Maybe Tim cared for her more and he wasn't the problem in the relations.h.i.+p. It was too late a life lesson for her to benefit now.

A hand reached out and jerked Joana back to reality. A reality much more horrifying than her wildest nightmares.

"In here!" Tim yelled between gritting teeth and discomfort.

Joana crashed into something. She lost her balance and fell flat in the darkness. Her hands slapped hard on the floor as she protected her face.

A door slammed behind her making her jump. She spun around and climbed to her feet. With it hard to see in the dark she half expected gnas.h.i.+ng teeth or a sharp set of claws slicing into her already sore shoulder. Her eyes adjusted to the light as something heavy sc.r.a.ped across the floor. Tim grunted behind it.

"Help me!"

Tim was pus.h.i.+ng a small couch in front of the door, and having h.e.l.l of a time at it. If his wounds from the crash weren't enough to keep him from moving the furniture, his small size was. Joana jumped in to help. The second the couch pressed in front of the door they fell silent, listening to the nothingness around them.

Faint grunts and hisses met their ears after a moment. The creatures giving chase had reached the end of the alley. Joana began to panic, breathing heavier than before. Tim lifted the black painted fingernail of his index finger to his lips.

"Shhh..."

She cupped her mouth with her hand as they both leaned against the couch. From the sound of it, there was quite a few of them out there. A sudden metallic boom slammed against the wall outside followed by faint rustling noises. They were looking for them.

Joana started to get up, but Tim shook his head. She stopped and settled back into the couch staying quiet.

Then she realized something. Tim had just saved her life. Fate was giving them a second chance. The boy she had slowly been growing to hate really was a man after all. He had protected her. Been her knight in s.h.i.+ning armor. She locked gazes with him in the dim light of the store. His eyes glistened. She had been thinking the wrong things lately. Taking relations.h.i.+p advice from the wrong people. h.e.l.l, it was all making sense now. Their relations.h.i.+p hadn't started to suffer until she started listening to Mina Jones at school. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

The noises outside faded. The would-be a.s.saulters had gone.

"What the f.u.c.k were you thinking out there, stupid b.i.t.c.h?" Tim stood up, finally breaking the silence. "You could-a got us killed!"

Then it all flooded back to the surface. There was a reason she was seeking advice about their problems. He had become an a.s.shole.

"One minute, you're cras.h.i.+ng your mom's car. The next, giving me f.u.c.king whiplash dragging me down the d.a.m.n alley. Then when we're actually in danger getting chased..." Tim stopped, making a pain filled face while gripping his ribs. "When we're actually getting chased... you s.p.a.ce out on me and just stand there. What the h.e.l.l, Joana?"

"Look who's talking." Joana pulled herself from the couch and looked around.

The room was some type of office. If her memory was correct, they were in a surplus store for outdoor equipment. Posters of people canoeing, rock climbing, and hiking lined the walls. Aside from the couch they had moved, there was one large desk with a computer, with lots of papers and boxes beside it. There was one other door, which undoubtedly led into the storefront. She had visited it once or twice with her dad before going fis.h.i.+ng. This was where her dad got his bait and stuff.

"And what the h.e.l.l does that mean? Look who's talking... what?" Tim tossed a hand in the air. "I have blood all over the side of my fa-"

"Just shut up, Tim. Dear G.o.d. What the h.e.l.l did you get us into here?"

"Me... what do you mean, me? I'm not the one that trashed the car and dragged us down here."

"You're telling me," Joana stepped forward, two fingers in Tim's face. "You didn't see those things out there. They were bears that were human, Tim. Human bears! Where the h.e.l.l did they come from, huh?"

"I don't know..." Tim stepped back.

"What the h.e.l.l do you mean 'you don't know'? I'm not the one that almost got you killed. If anything, I saved your a.s.s back there."

"By what... s.p.a.cing out on me?"

"No, by pulling you into the alley to begin with. Or did you forget that part already?"

"What the h.e.l.l are we even talking about?" Tim protested, leaning against the computer desk.

Joana shook her head, ran her fingers through her hair, and sighed. After a deep breath, she calmed, and said, "Before we ran down the alley you said something. You said this was it. Our chance to leave. That the stupid stones worked. How do you know that for sure?"

"I didn't say that."

Joana put both fists on her wide hips and glared.

"Look... we don't know anything for sure. Okay. All I know is I was told it would work. We just wanted to leave. Go somewhere better."

"No..." Joana hissed. "You wanted to leave. I never said I did. I like it here."

An unexpected look slid across Tim's face. He seemed shocked and at a loss for words. He just stood leaning against the desk, blood caked on his face along with that smug expression.

"None of that matters, all right?" Joana said, her voice soothing. "We need to get out of here. Call the cops or something."

Tim nodded.

With that, Tim braced himself, and then stepped away from the desk. Joana opened the door leading into the store and followed Tim as he limped ahead, one hand on his side. She felt sorry for him regardless of whose fault it all was.

"The register's up at the front." Joana whispered, grabbing Tim's hand for comfort. "Maybe there's a phone up there.

Tim nodded, slowly easing them in that direction.

The entire front of the store was made of gla.s.s so those that pa.s.sed by on the street could peer in at the many outdoor selections inside. The wall was adorned with a few small kayaks and fis.h.i.+ng gear. A small child's tent was set up at the front. A fake fire pit and a few chairs surrounded the entrance of the tent for demonstration.

Looking beyond the front window, no strange activity was happening on the street. As they drew closer, Joana saw her mom's car still pressed against the parked truck. The wreck had happened right in front of the outdoor store. Her stomach tightened at the sight. Her mom loved that car.

"Here it is," Tim breathed.

They reached the counter. Tim was sifting through some things behind it. Joana wasn't watching him. Her gaze was fixated on what was outside. She couldn't look away. She just knew, that like the countless horror movies that she had watched with Tim, something was going to jump out... slam into the gla.s.s scaring her senseless. Her heart raced just waiting for that moment. She longed for it to get over with.

"Got it!" Tim said, a hint of excitement mixed in there with the painful grunt.

Joana jumped.

Tim laughed, instantly regretting it with a painful wince.

"Serves you right. That wasn't funny. You scared the s.h.i.+t out of me." She looked down at the phone in Tim's hand.

"Had to figure out how to dial out."

"Awesome." Joana said, watching him dial 911 before returning her focus to the street.

"Great."

"What?" Joana asked, not taking her eyes away from the window.

"Line's busy."

"Well, do we know the actual number to the local police?"

Just as those words left her lips, a flash of red and blue lights saturated the street beyond the store. Joana heard Tim hang the phone up. They both watched in horror as the patrol car eased past with its lights flas.h.i.+ng. There were two of those monsters already on the hood of the car trying to get in. The winds.h.i.+eld shattered, and just like that, the cruiser eased up onto the sidewalk slamming into a fire hydrant across the street. The hydrant s.h.i.+fted from its stoop and water gushed forth like Old Faithful. The creatures attacking the car didn't stop. No shots were fired. No cops got out of the car kicking a.s.ses and taking names. No, the bears climbed down from the car, dragging two very dead cops into the street.

Tim whimpered and ducked down low behind the counter. Joana felt him s.h.i.+ft beside her and did likewise, dropping low, but to where she could still see what was happening outside.

They were eating.

They were tearing the cops' clothing with their claws and eating the bodies.

Joana suddenly didn't feel so great.

Two more figures walked into view. More of the same bear-people. Seeing the spoils set out before the ones feasting, the two newcomers looked to gain a portion of the pillage. One of the two already eating shooed them away.

Blood stained the street.

"What are we going to do? How are we supposed to get out of here?" Joana whined.

"I don't know." Tim said, stepping out from behind the counter and putting an arm around her. "Right now, we just need to sit tight. Try the phone a few more times. Someone will answer."

"Yeah..." Joana cried, leaning into his scrawny chest.

Joana had seen enough.

He held her tight, the sounds of feasting and slurping grunts penetrating the thick gla.s.s of the outdoor store.

6.

Frank Edelman's blood ran down his arm from the wound in his shoulder into the sink. With both hands on either side of the bowl, he leaned against the counter staring at himself in the mirror-preparing himself. Building up the courage to do it. He was just thankful that he was slowly regaining mobility in that hand, not matter how much it hurt to move his shoulder.

He had already snapped the loose wooden spear wedged in his shoulder past the flesh. As if that hadn't been painful enough, causing the blood to flow anew, now he had nothing to hold onto when pulling the rest of the object out of his arm.

The room smelled of bleach, a result of him going overboard with the cleaning for tomorrow's art opening. The fumes made his eyes burn, which was why he had the door open. The light overhead flickered slightly. Frank gritted his teeth each time the darkness jumped forward. He had just changed that d.a.m.n bulb, too. The sound of water rus.h.i.+ng from the faucet and down the drain echoed off the tile floor and marble walls in the one person bathroom.

Nodding at himself in the mirror, he was ready.

He needed to get this thing out of his arm, stop the bleeding, and get to Kathie before it was too late.

After those creatures left that man lying in the street half eaten, Frank tried calling Kathie a few more times. The line was busy. It was busy when he called 911 as well. Frustrated, he pocketed the phone. While deciding what to do, he watched the creatures return and then drag the partially devoured corpse away. For a minute, he thought about making a run for it. His vehicle was just right there. He would be across town and to Kathie in less than 15 minutes. But when he stepped forward and reached for the door, the sharp pain was too much. With his focus largely on getting to Kathie he had somehow forgotten about the shoulder. Sharp jolting stabs ran down his arm and through his hand. The pain was so intense that Frank dropped to one knee, gripping at his shoulder with his left hand. His left hand came away red. The pain finally subsided. He looked back out to the street.

There were more of them out there. Scavenging, it looked like.

If he were going to make a run for it he needed to do so something about that shoulder.

That was when he found himself in the bathroom.

By now, at least 10 minutes had pa.s.sed. On the toilet lid was a bottle of peroxide, two clean towels to stop the bleeding, some bandage wrap from the first aid kit in the office, and some duct tape. With each minute that pa.s.sed, his heart sank even more. Kathie needed him.

And, Captain... his dog, his best friend was... dead.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He had to act.

Jamming his left hand into his right shoulder, the index finger, middle finger, and thumb went to work. Blood rushed from his wound as the three fingers tore flesh around the small spear's sharp tip.

"Fuuucc..." Frank bit down hard, his eyes watering.

Just when he was about to give up, he got hold of it and pulled. Drool and spit dripped from his lips between clenched teeth as the sharp stone cut though muscle inside his shoulder. He moaned while fighting through the pain.

He dropped the arrow head in the sink. It clinked to a rest near the drain. The arrow head was covered in blood.

He sighed with a bit of relief. The brunt of the pain was over.

He'd never doctored anyone up before, but he had a general idea of what to do. The peroxide stung when he poured it over the open gash. He watched at the gaping hole in his shoulder, the size of a quarter, fizzed with white foam. The liquid was doing its job.

Bandaged up with what he had available, Frank left the bathroom and went back out to investigate the parking lot. He zipped up his coveralls while pa.s.sing toward the door, not even bothering to rinse his blood out of the sink. With wide stretched steps, he was there in half the time it normally took. The lot looked empty.

He pulled out the phone and keys and dialed Kathie one last time for good measure. Busy signal-again. Either the lines were jammed with a flood of calls or the lines were down all together. He hung up and dialed 911 just to see. With the phone to his ear, he scanned the lot, and used his right hand to unlock the door. He was able to use his right hand, but it definitely didn't feel pleasant.

The parking lot seemed empty enough.

He went for it.

With his phone in one hand and the keys in his other, he thought of turning to lock the door. He didn't care. There was no time for that.

The door swung open and Frank darted toward the white 1982 GMC Jimmy. His eyes s.h.i.+fted hard to the left, and then to the right. He saw the mangled remains of what had been that man those creatures had eaten and dragged off to G.o.d-knows-where. The pavement was stained with a large portion of blood. Rank chunks of meaty stuff lay scattered around it, parts the monsters had missed or discarded during the feast. Frank didn't want to think about it and looked away.

He was almost home free.

Only a few feet from the car, he heard something start to give chase off to his left. An odd series of noises erupted in that direction, a language maybe. He didn't look. He didn't want to know how many there where. Just as he reached the door, jamming the car key into place, he felt something wiz past his ear. Just as the gust of wind whooshed by, the sound of wood dropped to the cement near his feet.

They were throwing spears at him.

He yanked the door open and jumped into the vehicle. The driver side door's window shattered. Just before Frank yanked the door closed, he had watched the slender object crash through. Broken gla.s.s fell in his lap as the door slammed shut. He cranked the car and looked up. His gold and green senior ta.s.sel was draped from the rearview mirror. But that's not what he was looking at.

There were five of them, all bearing down on him with anger and malice. Another spear flew past the winds.h.i.+eld.

"f.u.c.k you, motherf.u.c.kers!" Frank crammed the s.h.i.+fter into drive and slammed the accelerator to the floor.

The Jimmy jumped forward, taking a split second to catch traction. When it did, the car bolted forward toward the hair-covered attackers. Frank gripped the wheel and turned toward them with intent. Two of the creatures jumped away just in time. The others weren't as lucky.

He braced for impact, felt the car jerk hard toppling over one of them while he watched another slam into his winds.h.i.+eld before disappearing over the hood.