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I take a breath or ten. The lift door’s too narrow for the suit, so I need a moment before tackling the stairs.
I think the door opened because of the heat exchanger. The suit’s designed for space, where the Sun side and shadow side can differ by hundreds of degrees Celsius. The exchanger’s meant to transfer heat from the hot to cold, but in here, where every side’s a balmy twenty-five, I’ve no idea what it’s doing besides confusing the hell out of the infrared sensors.
Okay, time to go. It should be easier than climbing a ladder, right?
It is. But I’m still gasping for air two floors in. It’s this thin air in the suit. It’s pure oxygen, but at one-third normal pressure, so it feels like I’m suffocating even though I know I’m not.
I slump back against the wall after I press your doorbell. My legs, my lungs, even my eyes, they all feel like they are on fire after that climb.
You don’t open the door. Did I stumble to the wrong door in my exhaustion? Nope, it’s definitely your number.
I press the doorbell again. Maybe it’s not working. I can’t hear anything. Some models of doorbells have LED lights that light up when it’s pressed, but I guess even that was too expensive for this cheap-ass station. Maybe your doorbell is broken too, like everything else—
The door slides open. There you are. You looked pissed, so the doorbell must have been working. Oh shit, you usually ask “Who’s there?” over the intercom. I couldn’t hear that. You must have thought I was a prankster or something.
Your face softens and your mouth is moving but I can’t hear you over the constant hum of my backpack. You must have realised that there are only three people who could show up in a space suit, and one of them is me. Since the other two weren’t invited to my party, the only person that could be standing in front of you right now is me.
I wave at you. You didn’t learn sign language so that’s all I can do right now. But now that I’m here in front of you, how do I tell you what I came here to say?
I point at my tablet, then point at you, then turn my palms up. Hopefully that translates to “Where is your tablet?”
You take your tablet out of your back pocket. Wow, you managed to decode what I was trying to say. Unfortunately, your tablet is out of power.
Okay, I can’t message you and talk to you that way. What do I do now?
What about that alternative communication app that I used to talk with Roger before I learned to sign? That would probably work. I type in a message and press play. Hopefully, a reasonable approximation of a normal human voice will be synthesising, “Try talking.”
You say something. The app translates it to [Why are you in your suit?]
Woo-hoo, we can talk!
[Bot crashed, came here to tell you to start without me], I type.
[Aren’t there other bots around?] you ask.
[Yeah, but it’ll take at least an hour to get there and back], I type.
[Go on then will wait], you say. I think the app can’t differentiate between your will and we’ll.
[Yeah no will way wait I’m for hungry you]. Huh? Oh, I forgot that there are other people in your room. Looks like the app can’t handle multiple people talking at once.
[You should start, keep some of the chicken warm for me]. I did use my two payload kilos to provide most of the chicken after all. Damn it, I wonder what you cooked. You had me get an air-fryer last month. Did you make the station’s first batch of fried chicken?
[VR not going to start without you]. Huh? Oh wait, that’s probably we’re instead of VR. You grab my hand and drag me in. I barely have enough time to turn sideways so that I can fit through your door.
There are four more people in here, six including you and a very out-of-place janitor in a space suit. That’s way too many people to be crammed into this shoebox of a room. Your double bed already takes up half of the space, your desk and wardrobe another quarter. Just me, alone, will probably take up half of the remaining quarter. The most spacious area is probably your bathroom, since there’s no one in there right now.
Over in the far corner, by the balcony, are Raj and Evie. I frequently see Raj downstairs, leaning against a wall and whistling a classic tune from the early twenties while he’s waiting for Evie. He’s whispering something into Evie’s ear that is probably sexual in nature judging by the way it is making her blush. Fortunately, the microphone on my tablet is too crappy to pick up what they are saying.
You drag me deeper into your room, past the blind corner adjoining your bathroom, where I spy Mac and Chester over by your wardrobe in the near corner, deep in conversation about something. They look serious, too serious for a party. I look at my tablet.
[Mack it is clear that the longsword is the best weapon class in the game]. That must be Chester, who just pushed up his glasses to look down at Mac, whose name has been mangled by the app. Chester is overdressed for this party, wearing a pinstripe suit while the others are just in t-shirts and shorts.
[Chest the I can beat your longsword with my axe with one hand behind my back]. Mac takes a long, slow sip from his glass of water, tilting his head back just enough to make sure he’s the one now looking down at Chester, even though he’s a head shorter.
Chester leans in, making Mac lean further back to maintain the direction of his gaze, but Chester relents right before Mac would topple over. In-game wars have been started over differences of opinion less divergent than what I just read, but these two are best friends.
Maybe the quality of the speech-to-text is so abysmal because you’ve got some muzak playing on your television. I’m glad I can’t hear in this suit, but the audio visualiser on your TV coats the room with neon hues, accentuating the party vibe.
Everyone is eyeing the air-fryer on your desk. I had to wait a week before I got approval to import the air-fryer. Even then, it was a different model that had a maximum temperature of 180 degrees. If it took them that long, it was probably because they had to do some research to make sure it wasn’t a fire hazard. Which means that no one had ever gotten an air-fryer before. Heck, you told me you went through the same thing when you imported the vegetable oil. Even then, you had to keep it in one of the communal kitchens and could only use it under bot supervision.
You take a detergent bottle and spray a couple of chicken drumsticks that have been dredged with what looks like flour. I don’t think it’s detergent you’re spraying, though. Have you been naughty and sneaked some cooking oil out of a kitchen?
Mac and Chester seem to be setting up a time and date for an in-game war when you tap the edge of your glass with a spoon.
[We all know why VR here], you say. Yes, everyone does. Mac can’t even contain his saliva. [Unfortunately our guest of honour had some technical difficulties as you can see and has requested that we go ahead and start the party and so without further ado in about fifteen minutes all of us will be a part of history as we bite into the first fried chicken ever to exist on this station].
Looks like the app doesn’t know how to do punctuation very well. Only punctuation it knows seems to be a question mark if it sounds like a question.
Chester claps enthusiastically and the rest join in. But I’m no guest of honour. I’m just someone who won the janitor lottery. Maybe they’re clapping because, come tomorrow, one of them just might be the next janitor. Maybe they’re here hoping that some of my luck will rub off on them. Yeah, they’re probably not clapping for me. There are plenty of other things to clap for, like the chicken that is going to be air fried. Everyone combined their payloads to import a kilogram of essentials like cooking oil, flour, milk, eggs, salt and spices. It was a team effort. I start clapping too, because everyone else is clapping and it’s awkward if I don’t join in.
From the way Mac is drooling, the chicken must smell great. He must have a super-sensitive nose to be able to smell the chicken cooking in the air-fryer. It takes fifteen minutes to cook one batch. If I head to the airlock by the docks and hurry back I might be in time to get a batch or two.
[Thanks everyone I should get going], I type.
[Sam what is wait with you?] You said something but the nonsensical result is probably due to Mac and Chester arguing in the background. I move further away so that the tablet microphone won’t pick them up.
[Sam you better hurry back or tail be no more for you], you say. Tail? Err, what the fuck, app. You were saying there’ll, right? Oh wait, you serious? You stopped me just to tell me to hurry up? You know it’s my retire—
Your grin has betrayed you. Lucky for me you can’t see my face behind my visor, so you don’t know that you really got me that time.
[Haha.] That’s what I type and show you, full stop and all.
I wave goodbye. I really should go now. But you have turned back, go past the blind corner, then you suddenly rush towards where Mac and Chester are.
[Mac what stop are going you doing on]. What the fuck is going on?
Evie and Raj are looking over at the near corner too, eyes wide.
[Get break off it off me]. Evie and Raj are edging towards me now, all while giving the near corner the widest berth possible.
I round the blind corner.
Chester is trying to push Mac off him, one hand shoving, the other beating at him, shouting something, face red with anger. You are trying to help, trying to drag Mac away. And Mac, he seems to be hugging Chester tight. His back is towards me so I can’t tell, but he seems to be kissing Chester’s neck?
I didn’t know Mac was so into Chester.
A dark liquid spurts out of Chester’s neck, spattering the wall, the ceiling, the bed, even you. He pirouettes, falls onto your bed, and some of the liquid spatters onto my visor. The way it hit the ceiling, its viscosity; this is blood.
Mac bends over Chester, mouth over Chester’s neck, but he’s not doing anything at all, just kind of drooling into the neck wound. What the hell is going on?
You try to push Mac away. Raj climbs over the bed to help you. I’m closer to you but I can’t move. I should go over and help you too, but my legs seem to be stuck.
Raj is next to you, helping you push Mac away from Chester, and yet I’m still here. What is wrong with me?
Chester loses consciousness. He is still breathing, just barely, so he’s not dead yet. But there is nothing behind his eyes anymore.
Raj manages to wrench Mac off Chester. Mac’s mouth is dark, bloody, with chunks of Chester’s neck still wedged between his teeth. Raj pins Mac down in some sort of arm lock, with his knees on Mac’s neck.
But I don’t think Raj can hold Mac down for long, even if Raj is physically bigger than Mac. Because I can see Mac’s eyes, and Mac is no longer in control. Something else has taken over, and all it wants is you.
You’re pressing your hands against Chester’s neck, trying to staunch the bleeding. But it’s hopeless. Chester’s turning pale. Worst of all, you’ve turned your back on Mac. You don’t even see how he’s looking at you right now.
Raj loses his grip on Mac as he twists away, not caring that he’s broken his arm in the process. Blood drips from white bone jutting out from an open fracture as he gets up. Raj reaches out for him, but he’s already past Raj.
He’s coming for you.
I need to do something.
Mac lunges at you.
I grab your hand and yank you back, place myself between you and Mac. Mac comes after me instead, hands stretched out towards me. I try to push him back, but he is stronger than I expected for someone who plays games all day.
He grasps my arm.
I can’t break free of his grip!
He opens his mouth, strips of Chester’s neck swinging about. There is a flicker, the merest twitch of terror spreading across his face, like he knows what he’s doing and doesn’t want to be doing it.
And it’s gone. Whatever speck of humanity that was left in Mac has disappeared. His eyes are an empty void, his face drawn into a feral snarl, his teeth bared. Everything about him resolves into something uncanny. All that’s left is an inhuman thing.
It chomps down on my arm.
Ow? Hmmm. That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It’s like being stabbed with the non-pointy end of a stylus.
It is mindlessly trying to chew through my suit, which was designed to withstand micrometeorites going at thousands of klicks per hour. But it’s no longer looking at me. It is looking past me.
Who is behind me? Is it going to go after you?
Not while I’m here!
I’m not going to let anything happen to you.
I try to drag it towards the balcony but it’s not budging. How is it so strong? It’s not until I feel someone pushing me from the side that I begin to make some progress. Is it you? Or maybe it’s Raj, maybe all three of you.
The Mac-thing takes a sidestep. A few more and it will be on the balcony. Then if I can get it off me, I can close the balcony door. No idea if it will hold but it’s the only plan I’ve got.
One more push.
Come on!
The Mac-thing falters, takes another side step. It’s on the balcony now. But I can’t close the door because the Mac-thing never stopped mindlessly trying to chew through my suit.
Maybe I should try pushing it over the balcony. I manoeuvre around, pin it against the railing. But it still has a good grip on my arm.
I throw a punch at its head. I know I hit it hard, but it’s not even fazed. All I did was hurt my hand.
Time for plan B. I use my free hand to pry one of his hands away. Holy shit its grip is strong. I concentrate on its pinky, bend it backwards. Damn, why is it so hard to just bend one little finger back? Then suddenly it is easy, too easy, and I bend it all the way back. I didn’t even hear it break.
But it’s working. Four more fingers to go. Time to break its ring finger. Slowly I prise the finger off my arm, bend it back bit by bit until it suddenly gives way.
Okay, middle finger now. Oooh, I can feel it working, the pressure on my arm loosening.
Just a bit more.
Come on.
Yes!
No, it grabbed my free hand, interlaced its three working fingers with my five. Now I’ve got to push back against it pushing me with my right arm and my left hand.
But I can see my tablet now.
[Help Sam!] That was the first message. Someone shouted that loud enough for the app to place an exclamation mark. But was that someone asking for help, or telling the others to help me?
[How!]
[Go get the handle from my bathroom!] We are in your room, so this must be you.
[You’ve got a screwdriver!] This must’ve been a question since there are no free screwdrivers on the station, thanks to one of the first people on the station stabbing himself with one.
[Large stop screaming and give me your lucky coin!] I guess you and Evie have been shouting over Raj screaming. Which means it’s you pushing me from behind.
I knew I could count on you, my dearest friend. I just wish it wasn’t you there behind me though because I’m getting tired.
[Large go help Sam]. This just popped up, so it’s new.
[Sam needs to move!] Yeah, I’m blocking most of the balcony with my suit. Raj is a big man, so there’s no way he can get into a position to help me.
Mac-thing surges forward, pushing me back into your room. It takes everything I have, along with Raj, I think, to stand our ground.
[Sam can you hear us?]
[Give us a sign if you can!]
Err, what sign? My left hand is locked in mortal combat. I could do a thumbs up with my right hand but it’s between my chest and Mac-thing’s jaw right now, so no one would be able to see it. I could nod, but my helmet won’t move with me. I need both my feet where they are right now just to stay upright. How am I supposed to give a sign?
[Guess not but just in case I’m going to stop supporting you].
Oh no, don’t you dare! I need all the help I can get. Don’t leave me!
I can’t hold Mac-thing off alone. It shoves me back. I stumble.
I fall, on something soft and springy. It must be your bed.
Mac-thing crashes down on top of me. I hit the floor, hard. What happened to your bed? But it held on tight throughout, so nothing has really changed. It is still holding on to my left hand and still chomping on my right arm.
But everything has changed. There is no longer anything stopping it from getting off of me and going after one of you.
The pressure around my right arm is loosening. It is turning to look at someone, maybe you. It’s letting go of my left hand as well.
I try to get up but it slams me back down, its vice grip tightening again.
Is there nothing I can do?
There is something…
I place my feet under it, right on its chest, and kick. I kick it out of my field of view.
I get up.
Where is it? Where is Mac-thing?
I turn and look for you.
There you are, with Raj holding the pipe, and Evie. All of you are okay.
So where is it?
Evie rushes to the balcony, looks over it.
Did I kick it off the balcony?
You join her.
I want to join you too but there’s not enough space for me.
Raj is mouthing something.
[I’m sorry] pops up.
I guess Raj is sorry for not helping. It was probably for the best. Mac-thing might be chomping on him right now if he had tried.
Maybe I should comfort him, pat him on the—yikes, there’s blood on my gloves. My little pinky is miraculously clean though, so at least I can still type.
[What the fuck is happening to Mac!] That must be Evie. I’ve never known you to casually drop a fuck.
[What the fuck what the fuck!]
Evie steps back from the balcony. A few more steps and she will run into your bed, which is now flush against your wardrobe, pressed up against Chester’s body. His head rests on the mattress, staring right at me, tongue lolling out like he’s playing dead. The open gash in his neck and his pale pallor say otherwise. The bed must’ve slid when Mac-thing fell on me.
Evie takes another step back, shaking her head, hugging herself in an attempt to suppress what must be adrenaline shivers. Raj goes and puts his arms around her, but he’s also shaking. At least I don’t have to look at Chester anymore, as the both of them block my view.
You, my friend, seem to be fearless, still bent over the railing looking down.
You turn sharply towards me. Why are you looking at me like I did something wrong?
Then you rush past me, pick up the pipe that Raj left on the floor.
[Help!] That must be Evie. What is going on?
Evie is reaching for something behind her and Raj is trying to pull Evie towards the balcony. You run past them, raise your pipe, swing it down hard.
Blood flicks up on the backswing, painting a crude line across the ceiling. The pipe is slick with gore.
Why are you beating on Chester?
Isn’t he dead?
Fuck me, there’s something coming out of Chester’s mouth and stuck on Evie’s neck. It’s… his tongue? Raj desperately pulls Evie away, but that tongue is stuck. The harder Raj pulls the longer the tongue stretches.
What the fuck? The tongue isn’t on Evie’s neck, it is in her neck! It is burrowed under the skin. I can see a bulge under her neck where the tongue ends and her skin begins.
Evie is screaming all the while. There’s nothing on my tablet though. I guess the app can’t translate something like aahh!
You look like you are letting loose a warcry as you bring down the pipe on Chester’s head. Chester’s head doesn’t even look like much of anything right now, just fragments of bone mixed with pieces of bloody brain and flesh, and that mangled pair of spectacles. Still, the tongue is not letting go. It’s twisting and turning, I don’t know if it’s from your strikes or of its own volition, but it’s fucking moving!
What can I do? Maybe I can find something to cut the tongue with. What can I use? I look around. Plates, plastic. Bed frame, plastic. Everything is plastic. There is nothing.
Raj has already pulled Evie all the way to the wall. There’s nowhere left to go.
Only one thing left to do. I grab the tongue and pull. It’s still stretching but I can see it thinning out. I pull again and the tongue-thing starts splitting apart, blood spraying everywhere.
Fuck, now I can’t see!
I keep pulling. I don’t need to see. I keep going until the tongue-thing goes slack. I must have torn it apart.
Now I need to see what’s going on. Is the tongue-thing dead? Is Evie okay? Are you safe?
I wipe my visor, but that just smears the blood around. I fumble for your bedsheet and clean my visor with that instead.
Fucking hell!
The tongue-thing is still in Evie, its severed end whipping about like crazy, bouncing off the walls and the balcony door.
Where are you?
There you are, standing the fuck away from everything, by the entrance, holding the pipe in front of you. Some grey mush drips from it onto the floor. That’s what’s left of Chester’s brain.
Oh no no no! What are you doing? Can’t you see that the tongue-thing is flailing about with such force that the balcony door almost rattles off its rails when the tongue-thing bounces off it? Don’t go and help Raj!
No time for anything else! I reach out to grab—Ow! The tongue-thing hit my arm. These things might not be able to get at me inside this suit, but they can still hurt me. I’ve got to be careful.
I need to help Raj while staying away from it.
I mime at you to throw me your pipe instead.
Look at me, dammit!
You are looking intently at the tongue-thing, ignoring me, pipe raised like you want to take a swing at it.
Fuck me, I’ve got to do something before you get yourself hurt. I run in front of you, push you back towards the entrance. The tongue-thing gets a few good whips in, but most of them hit my backpack instead of you.
Now you are looking at me. What the fuck are you angry at me for? I motion for you to give me your pipe.
You place the pipe in my hands, still looking pissed. Yeah, well, better pissed than dead.
I swing at the tongue-thing. It knocks the pipe out of my hand. The pipe ricochets off the ceiling and onto the bed. Fuck, that could have been worse.
Evie doesn’t look too good. Some of the skin on her neck is stretched and frayed from the tongue-thing whipping about.
I can’t hit the flailing tip. I’ve got to hit it closer to Evie where there’s less kinetic energy.
Can I even get that close?
I grab the pipe and take a step closer. Oh fuck, the thing whips right past my faceplate, bounces off the balcony door. This is probably as close as I can get without getting hit.
Evie bleeds profusely from her neck. If I can just get closer, I can hold up the pipe and get the tongue-thing to wrap itself around it.
I hold the pipe up and stretch my arms out. It is probably going to hit my arms, but at least it’s me in this impact resistant suit, shielding you.
The tongue-thing wraps itself around the pipe with so much force that I almost can’t hold on. After that it still wants to whip about. All I can do is hold on to the pipe with everything I’ve got. But at least it stopped moving.
Now what do I do?
[Get it out of me pull Sam!]
Raj nods at me, tightens his grip on Evie.
I pull. Evie is screaming. Tears are streaming down Raj’s face. He can’t bear to see her in so much pain.
You go over and hold onto Evie too. If Raj falters you will be there to pick up the slack.
[Pull Sam pull!]
I pull.
It’s stuck.
I strain.
It’s still stuck.
I turn sideways and try to step away.
I feel it giving way.
I catch my breath. “Come on motherfucker!” My words echo around in my helmet, sounding hollow.
I turn again, this time facing completely away. Now I can use my full body weight, including the ten kilos of this suit, to get this fucking thing out of Evie.
I lean.
It’s giving way.
“Come on!” I lean some more.
I fall. It’s out!
It’s still squirming about, trying to uncoil itself from the pipe. What do I do with it though? It’s not safe to leave it in here.
I go to the balcony, then tilt the pipe over the edge so the thing slides off. It lands on the netting below before slowly rolling off and hitting the ground. A cleaner bot will come by and deal with it later.
Wait, where is Mac-thing? Mac-thing would have landed somewhere near where the tongue-thing is right now, but it’s not there! It got up and walked away?
At least the tongue-thing isn’t moving. I don’t know if it’s dead, but I sure hope so. I hope it stays—
Oh fuck, it’s still twitching! Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown it out. I don’t want some unsuspecting person to walk up to it and get hurt. But what else was I supposed to do? Leave it in here where it can hurt you?
Are you okay?
Evie is definitely not okay. Half her neck has been torn out. The only thing keeping her head from falling off is Raj, who is gently cradling it. Raj seems to be crying, but I can’t tell because his face is covered with her blood. I look at the tablet.
[Stop stop Sam stop stop Sam stop stop stop Sam stop!]
[No!]
[E v!]
[E v!]
[E v!]
[E v!]
I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t hear!
Fuck!
Fuck!
“Fuck!” I can’t even scream properly, it sounds so feeble in my suit.
You are there trying to comfort Raj, but there is nothing you can do. By tearing that thing out of Evie’s neck, I tore out a part of Raj as well.
I want to hold my head, crush it between my hands. That might fill this pit that has opened in my heart. But the helmet is in the way. All I can do is leave behind bloody handprints on the sides of my faceplate. Whose blood is it? Mac’s? Chester’s? Evie’s? All of them?
My legs give way. I just can’t stand myself anymore.
It’s my fault. It’s all my fault! I pulled that thing out of Evie. I ripped her neck apart. If I had just stopped for a while and looked at my tablet, I would have seen that someone was telling me to stop. If I had just taken a second to do that…
What would I have done? Would I really have left the tongue-thing in Evie? Evie said it herself. She wanted it out.
No, of course not. I’ve seen how this thing works. Mac bit Chester and in less than five minutes those tongue-things grew out of Chester’s dead body.
I don’t know what this thing is and how it can do what it does in five minutes. But that seems to be the timeframe we are dealing with.
How long was that thing in Evie? How long has she been dead? We’ve got less than five minutes before she turns into a thing.
I stand, grab the pipe.
Why are you horrified? This is what needs to be done.
But you can’t see me in my suit, you don’t know that I’m looking at Evie, not at any of you. All you would see right now is a reflection of your own horror.
Maybe you haven’t figured it out yet. I can see your relief as I lower the pipe. I need to tell you before she turns.
After wiping my hands clean with your bedsheets, I type [She’s going to turn].
Now there’s a reason for your horror. You know I’m right. You probably knew it deep down, before I told you.
[Sam no is no right no no no she’s no going no to no turn no no no no!]
You pull Raj away. Maybe he gets it as well. He is bigger than you, which means he is letting himself get pulled away.
But Evie’s head drops, hanging almost upside down from what’s left of her neck, and Raj gets free of you and goes back to cradling her head.
[Raj, she’s going to turn!] I type.
[I no I no!]
Does Raj really know? He’s not looking at Evie’s eyes flicking back and forth right now, like she’s only dreaming instead of dead.
Fuck this, I’ve got to step in before Raj gets bit or worse. I can’t swing the pipe while he’s right there with Evie though.
I push him away. He tries to get back to Evie, whose head has dropped down, but I manage to keep him away.
He freezes when Evie stands up, head upside down and swinging back and forth. He might have said that he knew before, but now I see in his eyes that he knows for real.
Evie takes a step towards me, head swinging precariously. It looks like it might detach from the rest of her neck at any moment. But looks can be deceiving. The tongue-thing was way more tensile than it had any right to be.
I raise the pipe. I feel a hand on my shoulder. I don’t know whether it’s you or Raj, but Evie stumbles forward and I take a swing.
The pipe bats her head the other way, so it’s now hanging upside down the other side. She’s too close now for another swing so I kick her.
She falls. She looks so pathetic, sprawled on the floor.
Why am I thinking of this thing as Evie still? She’s gone. Turned into this thing right before my eyes.
The hand on my shoulder is still there. It’s Raj. Tears stream down his face, but there’s steel in his eyes as he reaches for the pipe.
He should do it. It’s his right.
But it’s safer if I finish this. She can’t hurt me in this suit.
Raj stands firm though, stoic. He is holding his hand out. He is asking me, no, demanding, that I hand the pipe over to him.
I give it to him. For me, Evie was just someone who came to your parties. For him, Evie was the love of his life.
He steps forward. Evie-thing is trying to get up. He raises the pipe and brings it down on Evie’s head.
Blood splatters and bone splinters but the look of Raj’s face is the worst thing about what’s happening. All his pain is wrought into every line on his face.
Blood flicks off the pipe and spatters against the ceiling as Raj raises the pipe.
Evie-thing reaches out for Raj. It only has one eye left. The other was crushed into goop that is dripping out its eye socket. The remaining eye is blank, like it doesn’t even know what’s going on.
The grimace on Raj’s face right now, he must feel so guilty. He screams, and though I can’t hear it, I know that he is letting out all of his anger. He is angry at himself, because he failed to protect Evie.
The next hit smashes Evie-thing’s lower jaw to bits, teeth scattering all across the floor. Still it reaches out to Raj.
The look on Raj’s face right now as he prepares to bring down the pipe again, there’s an emptiness to it that engulfs even my heart. It’s too painful to look at. I want to turn away, but I can’t. I need to face it right now, to sear into my brain what it’s like to lose someone I care about, so that I will do anything and everything I can to never lose you.
He screams as he hits Evie-thing again. I find myself screaming in unison. It sounds so tiny compared to the depth of his suffering.
Evie-thing’s head is still dangling by a small strip of neck.
He screams again and I scream along with him. No more, please. How much more of this can any person take?
The head finally detaches.
It rolls past Raj, settling somewhere behind him, facing up. It is smashed beyond recognition. If not for the single intact eye, no one would think it was ever a human head.
Raj’s face softens. Is he relieved that it’s over? He sits, facing the remnants of Evie-thing’s body. I guess he can’t bear to look at the face that he mangled.
You place a hand on his shoulder. He shrugs it off.
[Leave me alone], he says.
I don’t want to squeeze past him. I probably can’t anyway. I go over the bed instead.
Where did you go?
You disappear into the bathroom, lock the door. Are you okay? We just had half of my social circle die horribly. I want to check on you, but I also don’t want to barge in if you are taking a piss or something.
Poor Raj. I think the only thing I can do for him right now is to get out of his sight. Some of the blood on me is Evie’s.
When you emerge, you look clean. You washed the blood off your face. But your clothes are still stained.
You point at my tablet, make typing motions.
You want to type something? But my tablet is all bloody!
I show you the communication app.
You grab my arm and open the notepad app instead.
[We need to go deal with Mac], you type. I guess you don’t want to talk out loud and let Raj overhear.
I agree. But, [How do you know where it is right now?] I type. I use it instead of he. It’s important to note the difference. It will make it easier for me to do what needs to be done later.
[I can hear people screaming], you type. Fuck this suit. Mac-thing could be right outside pounding on the door and I wouldn’t even notice.
[Stay behind me], I type.
[You need to be able to see me for me to be your ears], you type.
I can see your point, considering what happened to Evie. [But it’s safer for me to deal with whatever is out there], I type.
You can see my point too. I can see you thinking about it.
Maybe I can be in front, but I keep an eye on my tablet at all times, so you can be my ears that way? No, that wouldn’t work if there are multiple people talking. Someone could be screaming something and it would interleave with what you say and by the time I figure out what is happening you could be dead. You are right, you need to be in front.
[Ok you lead the way but pass me the pipe and get behind me if there’s something I need to deal with], I type.
You nod in agreement.
[Is it ok to leave Raj like this?] I type.
[He’s an adult he needs to deal with it], you type.
I don’t know about that. We probably shouldn’t leave him here like this. But we do need to deal with Mac-thing before it munches on someone else.
You motion for the pipe.
I shake my head. No, I should be the one to open the door. Oh, right, you can’t see me shake my head. I point at myself instead.
But what is out there? I cup my hand over my ear as best I can, then point outside.
You shake your head.
What does that mean? No, there’s something outside, or no, it’s clear outside? We need to work on our communication skills.
I raise my hands, palms up. Huh?
You give an okay sign.
I wonder if you understood what I meant. Does it even matter? You did say that there were people screaming. You wouldn’t be able to hear something sneaking around outside anyway.
I step up to the door and for the first time I realise how fucked up the situation actually is. I still have no idea why Mac turned. Chester and Evie turned within minutes! Is there any help coming?
No. Even if a distress call was sent out right now it would take about a week for any help to get here. And who is supposed to be sending that call out anyway?
Whatever is happening, we’ve got to deal with it ourselves.
You tap me urgently on the shoulder. What is it?
You point at my tablet.
There’s a notification, a message from an [Unknown Contact].
Oh fuck, the fucking notification pings! If there’s something outside, it definitely knows we’re in here now. I switch the tablet to vibration.
I look at you, ask you if you hear anything now.
You shake your head. Suddenly, my tablet vibrates and your horrified face is lit by flashing red.
It’s Unknown Contact, now calling me. My tablet might be silent now but I can’t have it flashing whenever this fucker calls. I block the contact.
Is it okay to go out now?
I ask you with my fingers.
You shake your head.
We really need to work on our app-less communication.
Okay, it’s time to head out.
Except that I’m actually afraid to open the door. I don’t know what’s on the other side. There could be nothing. Or anything.
Fuck me, we’ve got to go!
I unlock the door.
I slide it open a little, enough to get the pipe in there, and use it to slowly open the door.