Deluge: The Conqueror Worms II

CHAPTER 2

“I can’t see shit.” Kevin leaned forward, squinting his eyes and staring through the foggy windshield. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, as if they’d been glued onto it. “Is the defroster working?”

Sarah placed her hands over the vents. “It’s on. There’s air coming out.”

“It’s not helping.”

“Well, how about if I just stop breathing? Then the windows won’t get all fogged up.”

Sarah winced as she said it. Her tone was sharper than she’d intended it to be. Kevin glanced at her, his expression wounded.

“Sorry,” she apologized. “I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m just… I hate leaving Teddy and Carl behind like that. It feels like we’re abandoning them.”

“I know. I know. Let’s just focus on the road. Can you wipe the windshield for me?”

Sarah scooted across the seat, lifted her shirttail and wiped the glass in front of him. From the corner of her vision, she saw Kevin sneaking a glance at her chest. She turned to him, frowning.

“Pig. Keep your eyes on the road, not on my tits.”

Blushing, he grinned. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. They were just sort of there, you know?”

“They’re there all the time, Kevin. I have them twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Get used to it.”

“Oh, I have.”

Sarah’s brow creased. She slid back over to the passenger side and shifted uncomfortably.

“Kevin, please tell me you’re not getting any ideas? You know I don’t like guys.”

“I’m not,” he assured her. “Believe me. But you can’t blame a guy for looking. I mean, no offense, but they are nice. And it’s been a while since I’ve seen any others. Since Lori…”

His voice faded. Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but she wasn’t sure what to say. How could she console him? Since their departure from Baltimore, Kevin had only mentioned Lori once—when he was sitting in Teddy’s kitchen, telling their story. Until then, she hadn’t known the depth of his feelings for the girl. Yes, she’d known that they hooked up. Everyone had known, and the group had been happy for them. But Sarah hadn’t realized just how distraught Kevin was over Lori’s death until he’d recounted it for Teddy and Carl. She reached out and touched his arm. His shirt sleeve was wet and cold. He was trembling. Tears formed in the corners of his eyes and ran down his cheeks. Raindrops continued pummeling the truck, punctuating the silence inside the vehicle.

“Kevin—”

“It’s cool.” He sniffed, and then turned his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “I’ll be fine. I just miss her. Hell, I miss them all.”

“Me, too. I didn’t even like all of them. Nate was a real prick, and Taz and Ducky could be a little hard to take sometimes. But I do miss them. Isn’t it weird? Most of us didn’t know each other before the rains started. We ended up stranded together on top of that hotel and had to make the best of it, but in a way, they became like family.”

“Yeah. I never had much family, even before this started. Jimmy was the closest thing I had to a brother—until Leviathan killed him. Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can still see his fucking head floating on the water.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t kill him. But you’re right. They did feel like a family of sorts. Dysfunctional, maybe, but still a family.”

“Well, now we’re family.”

Kevin grinned. “Does that mean you won’t flash me your tits anymore?”

“Asshole,” Sarah laughed. “Keep it up and I’ll—”

Her teeth clamped down on her tongue as the truck suddenly lurched forward. Sarah’s hand flew out and grabbed the dashboard. Her forehead smacked into the passenger-side window. She tasted blood in her mouth, and her ears rang. Beside her, Kevin screamed.

Sarah opened her eyes and glanced around in panic. The world seemed askew—crooked. Then she realized that they were both tilted forward. The front of the truck was pointing downward and the rear was in the air. The engine wasn’t running, and the wipers no longer swept back and forth. Whatever it was that had happened, it had been severe enough to knock out the power. She wondered if maybe the battery had been knocked loose?

Kevin groaned, and Sarah turned to him in concern. He was conscious, but there was a small cut on his forehead, and his chest heaved as he gasped for breath.

“You okay?”

He nodded. “Fucking… steering wheel… caught me right… in the chest. No air bags.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. It’s like the… road just fell out… from under us.”

Sarah tried to peek out the windshield, but it was fogged over again. Instead, she opened her door—

—and gasped.

The road had collapsed in front of them, and the truck had tumbled into a sinkhole. The trench was about five feet deep. Cold rain and wind lashed at her as she appraised their situation. Water churned at the bottom of the hole. Mud rolled off the sides and splashed into the water. She stared closer at the soil, and noticed veins of white mold spreading throughout it. Her breath caught in her throat.

She’d seen that white fuzz before. But now, there was a new aspect to it.

“What the hell?”

The dirt around the fungus seemed to be liquefying.

“What’s wrong,” Kevin asked. “Worms?”

“No. It’s… I don’t know what. It’s that weird mold, but it’s doing something different. It’s turning the dirt into water or something.”

“Is that why we crashed?”

She swung the door shut. “I don’t know. Maybe. But we’re in a sinkhole. The road washed out. Can you move?”

“Yeah. Just knocked the wind out of me. I’ll be okay.”

“Let’s get out of here before the truck sinks down further.”

His eyes widened. “How deep is the hole?”

“I don’t know. There’s water at the bottom. It doesn’t feel unstable. The truck’s not rocking. But still, we should go.”

They rooted through the truck, checking under the seats and in the glove box for anything useful. Sarah found three emergency flares and a hunting knife with a nine-inch blade. The knife was in a leather sheath that said ‘Teddy’ on the side. Seeing his name brought a lump to her throat. Behind his vehicle registration and insurance card, she found a small, round can of Skoal.

“Oh my God.” She held it up so Kevin could see.

“Shit,” he laughed. “That poor guy. He was jonesing for nicotine so bad, and all this time he had a can in the glove box.”

She stuffed the can in her pocket.

Kevin frowned. “You dip tobacco?”

“No. I’m saving it for when we see him again.”

“He’ll be pissed as shit when he finds out he had one all the time—after everything he went through to get some.”

Kevin rooted around under the seat some more and found a baseball bat, an old blanket, and a fluorescent orange wool hunting cap. He tugged the hat over his head.

“How do I look?”

“Ridiculous,” Sarah said. “But I guess it’ll keep the rain off.”

“Nothing will keep that rain off. I haven’t felt dry in months.”

Sarah put her hand on the door. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it.”

They climbed out of the truck, clambered up over the tilted bed, and crawled out onto the wet ground. They were both careful not to come into contact with the weird mold. The edges of the sinkhole collapsed beneath them, and both had to scramble to keep from tumbling back down. They stood up and rested for a moment, catching their breath.

Sarah checked her clothes, looking for signs of the strange white fungus. Then she inspected Kevin, as well.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Just making sure we’re okay. How’s your head and chest?”

“Hurts like a bitch, but I’ll be okay. How about you? You cracked your head pretty hard.”

“I’m fine.”

They set off on foot, giving the widening sinkhole a wide berth. Their boots sank into the muddy ground, and each step they took made a loud sucking noise. The downpour was almost blinding. The wind blew the rain directly into their faces.

Neither Kevin nor Sarah saw the cluster of worms until they were almost right on top of them.

The creatures lunged before they could scream.