Melt by Christopher Motz

Author:Christopher Motz [Motz, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-11T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Without the theater's emergency lights, the night seemed even blacker.

For the first time that night, Greg's and Brandon's roles had been reversed.

"This isn't happening," Greg blubbered. "We'll never make it across town."

"The hell we won't," Brandon said. "I don't care what those fucking things are, they're not turning me into paste."

Greg wiped his eyes and leaned against a lamppost. Ditchburn was eerily calm.

"I don't hear anything," he said. "Maybe they're gone."

"Or maybe they've killed everyone else," Brandon said.

"Why would you say that? We can't be the only ones left."

"Did you see how big that thing was?" Brandon asked. "Sneaky bastard just crept up on us without a sound. What if they're getting smarter?"

"They're globs of jelly! How can they get smarter if they don't have a brain?"

"Who says they don't? What if there's a queen or something? What if they're being controlled by some mother brain?"

"Okay," Greg said. "I liked you better when you didn't say everything that came to mind."

A quick scream shattered the night, making them both cringe. In seconds it was gone, leaving only an echo.

"Do you believe anything Michael said?" Brandon asked. "The Tree of Mirrors... the hidden lab?"

Greg closed his eyes and thought about how ridiculous it all sounded, but without any other explanation, he was resigned to the fact that what Michael had said could be the truth.

"You had him at gunpoint. What would he get out of making it up?"

"Our sympathy? Leniency? I don't know. Before tonight I would have never believed a word he said, but look around. They came from somewhere, didn't they? Whether it was a lab, a fucking meteor, or through a wormhole... they're here. Wherever they came from doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," Greg shouted. "If anyone survives this, they'd have to know how to destroy it or how to send it back."

"Maybe it can't survive here. Not for long."

"What do you mean?"

"Like maybe our atmosphere is toxic," Brandon theorized. "Maybe they'll just die."

"It doesn't look that way," Greg said. "It seems that they're growing."

"I'm not a scientist," Brandon said, throwing his arms up in surrender. "The only ones who know what's really happening are Steven Gates and his cronies, and I'm willing to bet, the second things got out of control, they hightailed it right the fuck out of here."

Greg had no idea what to say. He was completely burned out, and the more he tried to understand what was happening, the more confused he became. He and Brandon could discuss theories until they were blue in the face, but to what end? The only solution was getting out of town as quickly and quietly as possible.

"You have to stop waving that gun around," Greg said.

"I was only doing what I thought was best."

"You killed him, Brandon. You killed him and you didn't have to..."

"I'm not apologizing for trying to keep us safe."

"And I'm not apologizing for thinking you're going off the deep end."

"Look, I'm sorry. What do you want me to say?"

"As soon as you shot Michael, one of those things showed up.

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