Chapter Thirty-Two
After my encounter with the Benjamimic, all I wanted to do was curl up in a cave somewhere far away from the rest of humanity and wait the whole thing out. I’d done my part, pressed my luck to the breaking point, killed a professional killer, and somehow survived. It was someone else’s turn to pick up the slack in this monster war.
Unfortunately, there was nobody left but me, so I couldn’t take any breaks longer than the one I allowed myself while the body out back burned itself out. I started with another tall cup of black coffee, then began the impossible task of setting the gas station to rights.
The sun had risen by the time I filled the first contractor bag with the remaining evidence of our firefight. The head in the box laughed and joked sporadically, really hammering home the “I told you so”s. Normally, I might find that kind of thing annoying, but I was relieved to be alive and happy to have finally managed to kill one of those things before it had the chance to heal itself. Now I knew what the limitations were. Now I knew they could die.
I was taping garbage bags over the bullet holes in the drink case when I heard somebody walk into the store. I turned around, ready to play good worker and assure whoever it was that we were in the midst of minor improvements, but totally open for business. But the fake smile on my face vanished the moment I saw him standing there, glaring at me. His body had completely healed, and there was no evidence whatsoever that I had set him on fire and burned him to a crisp only a few hours earlier.
“Wow,” Benjamin said. “This place is a real dump.”
I dove behind the nearest shelf and started army crawling towards the counter. If I could get to the guns, I might stand a chance. Why, why, why, didn’t I keep one of the guns on me?!
Of course, I knew it was a desperate plan before it even started. Benjamin could walk much faster than I could crawl, and before I even reached the end of the aisle, he had already stepped between me and the counter. With an annoyed grunt, he asked, “What the hell are you doing down there?”
I dropped my face onto the floor and closed my eyes. It was too much to hope for another miracle. The only thing left to hope for was a quick, clean death. Of course, I had shot him and set him on fire, and it was not unreasonable for a person to feel a little pissed off over that.
But then another thought registered: He’s wearing clothes. I lifted my head and saw the same dirty black combat boots he had been wearing earlier. A pair of dark cargo pants, those might have been the same. A heavy black coat…
This didn’t make any sense. Even if he had slug-glued his burnt body back together, where did this new outfit come from? Do the mimics have the ability to recreate clothing as well?
“Can you hear me?” he asked, a little louder this time.
I pushed myself up awkwardly, “Oh, yeah, sorry, I dropped my… quarter.”
“I was starting to think this place was shut down. You have some kind of attack?”
The situation became clear. This was not the same Benjamin currently smoldering out back.
Glitch in the Matrix. Something was supposed to happen, but didn’t. Now the powers-that-be are rerunning the scenario in hopes of a different outcome.
“Yeah,” I said. “I had a nasty monster attack last night. It’s cool, though. I took him down with my bare hands. Anyway, enough about me, what brings you back to town?” I walked around him and made a straight line for the counter. He watched me closely. Too closely for me to risk grabbing the gun tucked away on the shelf below the register.
“I’m on assignment. By the looks of it, I came to the right place.”
“Sounds super cool. Where’s your car?”
“I walked here from town. Didn’t want a repeat of last time. Vehicles like mine are hard to replace.”
I leaned on the counter and tapped the ice chest with my knee.
“What happened? Where am I? Who turned out the lights? Oh, right, I forgot. Sorry Jack, I fell asleep for a second. What’s up?”
I pretended I couldn’t hear the voice in my head, and carried on the conversation. “Makes sense. So, what kind of monsters are we hunting today?”
He walked up to the other side of the counter. “Why don’t you start by telling me exactly what happened here?”
“Oh shit!” screamed the voice of Jerry. “Jack! That is another mimic! You know what to do!”
“I’d love to talk, but I gotta get this place ready for business again. Why don’t you come back later? I’ll pencil you into my schedule. We can do lunch. You like lunch, right?”
He backed up and looked at the mess around us.
“You want some help cleaning? You can talk while we work.”
He walked over to the toppled display shelf and lifted it back into place with so little effort it might as well have been made of paper.
“Get rid of him. He’s trying to find out what you know!”
I tucked the gun into the front pocket of my hoodie, then walked back to where the alleged “Benjamin” was making short work of shoving groceries into an empty garbage bag. As I got closer, I said, “You really don’t have to do any of that. It’s my job.”
“Well, I need information so I can do my job. If it gets you talking faster…” He trailed off once something on the floor caught his eye. With a grunt, he bent down and picked it up, then showed it to me. “This yours?”
He was holding a gun. The same gun his predecessor had fired at me the night before.
“Oh that’s where that thing ended up? Silly me, I keep forgetting where I put my stuff.”
“That’s a Taurus Raging Bull.” He looked up from the weapon and added, “Good gun.”
“Yeah. You don’t have to tell me. I knew that. Because I bought it.”
He held the gun close to his nose and inspected it.
“Did you also file off the serial number and remove the safety?”
He was putting things together way too fast.
“SHOOT HIM! SHOOT HIM, JACK!”
“Yes. Yes, I did. So what?”
He took a whiff of the weapon, then asked, “What kind of gun oil do you use?” It sounded way more like a cross-examination than friendly gun banter. (Not that I would know what friendly gun banter sounds like.)
“Do it now, Jack! Aim for the head! The round part right on top of the torso!”
“You know, just the regular store-bought kind.”
He knew something was up. But did he know I killed another Benjamimic? Was the head in the box right again? Was this another monster? He reached behind his back, under his jacket, and pulled free his own gun, then held the two identical items side-by-side. He gave them a couple bounces to compare the weights, then locked eyes with me.
“Wow,” I said. “What a coincidence! I guess great minds something or other.”
“This ain’t a coincidence. You want to tell me what a civvy like you is doing with a cannon like this? And don’t play like you don’t know—”
BANG!
This time, I was ready for the overly sensitive hair-trigger. I aimed for the collarbone, same place I hit him the night before, but despite all of my recent practice, I wasn’t very good at landing a shot when my target was any further than a few feet away. The bullet hit him in the right shoulder. He screamed and barrel-rolled over the same grocery shelf he had just put back up, and I completely lost sight of him.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Now he was shooting at me for some reason!
I dropped below the counter, held my own gun close, and waited for him to make the next move. Was he going to monster out? Crash through the counter like a wrecking ball? Or simply walk around the side and shoot me execution-style?
Turns out, he had a different idea altogether. After letting me stew in my own panic for a minute longer, he yelled out from behind his cover on the other side of the store, “Jack. I know you’re hiding behind that counter, and I assume you’re more or less in your right mind. I want to talk to you.”
“Okay,” I yelled back. “Talking is fine.”
“There are two things you need to know right now. First, you see that cigarette case?”
I looked at the wall above me.
“Yeah?”
“Salems, third row up, four over. You see them?”
I found the pack of smokes he was referring to.
“Yeah?”
BANG!
The case exploded, showering me with glass and plastic and tobacco bits. The entire shelf that the Salems were on was now in pieces on the floor around me.
“Well,” he yelled, “I know you can’t really tell now, but I hit the pack of smokes. Point is, I’m a dead shot. I won’t miss from this close.”
“I believe you!” I yelled. “What’s the second thing I need to know?”
“The second thing is that my Bull is loaded with .454 Casull. I know you’re not a gun guy, so let me explain what that means. If I were to shoot the counter you’re hiding behind, the bullet wouldn’t stop until it had already gone through the counter, through you, liquified your insides, then probably keep going until it hits a tree. My point is, you’re a sitting duck, and if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. So how about we both put away our guns and talk face-to-face like civilized human beings?”
I took a breath, then reached over and tapped the ice chest a couple times, whispering, “Is he telling the truth?”
“About the gun thing? I mean, technically, yes. He can kill you right now if he wants to. The only reason he’s left you alive is so he can find out what you know.”
Benjamin screamed, “What do you say, Jack? Do we have a deal? Or do I kill you now? I’m not a fan of option two, but I certainly won’t lose any sleep over it.”
“Okay!” I yelled back. “You first!”
After a few seconds, a gun slid across the store and hit the wall behind the counter next to me.
“And the other one!” I yelled.
A moment later, the other gun hit the wall, too.
“Alright, Jack. It’s your turn.”
“What about your other gun?”
“What other gun?”
“The one in your leg holster!”
I waited for his response, staring at the two identical guns against the wall only a few feet away and wondering how hard it would be for me to reach them. Of course, they were both empty. Benjamin wouldn’t throw me a loaded weapon. What was his plan here? Was I supposed to throw my gun into the same pile? Then what?
“Oh snap! Jack! He’s sneaking up on you!”
Before I had any time to ask Jerry what he meant, a giant hand reached over the counter and wrapped its meaty fingers around the gun. He yanked it up, and took me with it. I clung to the weapon like it was my only lifeline, and when he pulled it over to the other side of the counter, I went along. I kept my grip until he slammed me onto the ground and pinned my chest under his knee. He squeezed his hands over mine, keeping the barrel pointed away from both of us and protecting the trigger at all costs. As he leaned his weight onto me and evacuated every last molecule of air from my lungs, he looked me in the eyes and said, “Let go of the gun.” I didn’t have a choice. I relaxed my hold, and he yanked the weapon free. “How the Sam Hill did you know I had a gun in my ankle holster?” he asked.
Like an idiot, I tried to answer, only to remember that I was seconds away from suffocation. He stood, removed all of the bullets from the gun, and gave me time to gulp in some fresh air.
“It’s…” I coughed. “...a long…” I coughed again. “...story.”
***
An hour later, I was sitting in the supply closet. My hands were tied behind my back to the wooden chair Benjamin had dragged in there. He was sitting across from me on a milk crate and silently stitching up the gnarly bullet wound on his right shoulder using stuff from around the store. We depleted our medical-grade supplies long ago, so he made do with fishing line, a sewing needle, a lighter, and a handle of highly-potent grain alcohol. Making me watch him do it was definitely a hardcore power move.
His shirt was effectively drenched in blood now, but he barely even reacted to the pain. He just duct taped over the mess and said at long last, “Time to come clean. What the hell is going on in this town?”
I sighed. “Do I really have to do this again? I mean, I just told this whole story a few hours ago, and it took forever.”
“Then be more conservative with your words.”
Before I could start, something caught our attention. Someone else’s voice from the front of the store called out, “Hellooo? Anyone here? Is this place open?”
Really? Now of all times, I get a customer?!
He gave me the shush sign, put his jacket back on, and zipped it up to hide the bloodied mess underneath. Then he reached over and took the name tag off my hoodie and pinned it onto his coat. As he stood, he gave me a solid warning, “I don’t want to kill anyone, Jack, but if you make a scene, I’ll do what I have to do.” He put the gun in the holster on his leg, covered it up, then walked out of the closet, flicking the light off behind him.
I tried to listen, hoping for a clue. Anything I could use to get out of this. The ropes around my wrists were expertly tightened, and I was neither strong enough to break free nor mobile enough to move the seat. The best I could do was maybe rock back and forth until I fell over, but there wasn’t enough meat on that idea to even consider it a plan.
There had to be some way out of this. If I had to break my bones to do it, I would. But another opportunity suddenly presented itself. One much worse than breaking my own bones.
It started as a tiny green dot floating in the darkness. Then, in a blinding flash, it expanded to fit the size of the wall to my right. An enormous, massless, otherworldly void. No describable shape nor dimension, just furiously swirling light. A portal, like the one that pulled Beaux straight to hell.
A figure emerged. And then another. And another. And another.
They all looked the same to me, about three feet tall, scaly gray skin, giant oval eyes, pointy ears, and pointier teeth.
“Ak yak! Ak yakka yak yakka ak!”
“Akyakyak yak.”
“Akyakaka? Akyak? yak!”
“Ak yak! Akka yakka… ‘Jack.’”
Translation:
“We did it! At long last, we crossed the border and found the treacherous villain!”
“Don’t celebrate so soon, Yak.”
“Is this it? Is this the one we were sent to find? It looks so weak and pathetic!”
“This must be him! The one they call... ‘Jack.’”
“Oh my God,” I said, keeping my voice low enough not to alert the people outside the closet. “I’m so glad you’re here!”
“Ak-yak!” Don’t be!
“Akka. Ak yak!” We came to bring you to justice.
“Akkaka kakaka kakakaya…” Wait a second, are you guys sure we have the right human?
I seized my opportunity. “You guys are here for Jack, right? The one who killed Akyak the Brave?”
“Akka.” Yes.
“Well that puts us all on the same side. See, I want Jack to die, too! He also killed my entire family before trapping me in this closet. If you let me go, I’ll lead you right to him.”
The akyaks debated amongst themselves. The one calling the shots, I soon learned, was named “Akyak the Smart.” When pressed, he admitted that he couldn’t be certain that their coordinates were perfect. And maybe I wasn’t the intended target. They agreed that humans all look “so much alike.” And I was, after all, tied up inside a pantry. And the stories of Jack’s fearsome strength had been passed down for generations. He must have been a titan and a warrior to dispatch the Akyaks the way he did.
“Ak?” Food?
“What?”
“Akka ak.” Are you food?
“Yes, of course I am. Jack is planning on eating me.”
They began a short debate over whether or not they could trust me, or if they should just eat me themselves. But the debate was interrupted the moment the door to the closet opened. Benjamin’s eyes widened.
“What the f—”
I screamed, “THERE HE IS! GET HIM!”
“AKKA YAK! ‘JACK!’” Look on his chest rectangle! Those are the human letters of ‘Jack!’
With Akyak the Smart’s seal of approval, the others dove into ak-tion. The two closest to the door landed on Benjamin’s torso with hand and feet claws tearing into flesh. Benjamin pulled his gun and fired. One of the creatures exploded into chunks of pink matter. Akyak the Smart launched onto Benjamin’s gun arm, grabbed hold with his teeth, and piranha-shredded it down to the bone. Benjamin palmed him by the head with his remaining hand and smashed it against the floor like an overripe cantaloupe. Then he pulled off the creature digging into his innards and flung it into a wall. The remaining akyak darted behind my chair. I thought he was going for a strategic retreat, but then I felt my binds release with the sound of a snik.
The creature freed me, then galloped towards Benjamin.
“Jaaack!” Benjamin screamed as the two akyaks tore his flesh from his bones. “What have you done?” He was barely more than a skeleton from the chest to the pelvis. The akyaks gnawed at his bones until the black slime emerged like tentacles. They wrapped around the unluckier of the two, squeezing the creature into a cocoon of horror and gore until it popped like a balloon, spraying red all over the walls and ceiling.
The final akyak managed to dodge the black goo. It dropped to the ground, barrel rolled under Benjamin’s feet, and joined me inside the supply closet, watching as Benjamin’s arm and body stitched itself back together. Organs exploded in black slime, new flesh stretched over the muscle and bone. Benjamin laughed until the gags hit him. He doubled over and expelled a long stream of blood from his mouth all over the floor.
“Akka yak yak? Ak yakka yak?” What is this thing? How can we possibly win?
I had one idea. While Benjamin was still projectile vomiting, I bent down, picked up the remaining akyak, and lobbed him onto the mimic’s back. Benjamimic shot upright and said, “What the hell?”
The akyak wasted no time biting and clawing into him, starting at the back of the neck. In a matter of seconds, Benjamin’s head had been removed and flung messily from the rest of the body. It landed on the ground with a sickening thunk, followed immediately by the rest of him.
The akyak cheered triumphantly, but stopped the moment it saw the slimy crawlers extending from the head to the body and from the body to the head. They connected, intertwined, and began pulling both pieces back together. The akyak shrieked and ran away, diving into the swirling portal on the wall.
I walked up to the quivering mass of Benjamin on the floor. He was covered in the black slime, almost entirely one giant slug of gore, bones, and tattered clothing. The skull melted and Terminator-crawled into the rest of the body. The mouth squealed in an unnatural voice, “Jaaack. You cannot win. We cannot be killed.”
I reached down and pulled my nametag off the scrap of fabric that was fusing into a rib cage. This blob creature was already done, even if it didn’t know. Bones cracked and muscles squished as it tried and failed to reform. I bent down, picked up the bloody gun, and fired into the mass. Bits of it splattered, but the mass didn’t stop moving, or trying to speak. “Jaaack…”
A roar came from the portal behind me. I turned to see a green chain covered in spikes flying out of the swirling void. The device wrapped itself around the dough-blob Benjamimic, who hissed and jerked and fought against it. I took a step to the side and watched as the akyak weapon slowly dragged the monster across the floor, into the closet, and through the green void. There was a sound like a crack of thunder, and then the void disappeared again.
Wow, I thought as I pinned my name badge back onto my hoodie. I really lucked out that time. I looked around at the mess. Three akyak bodies. Some black slime. And a shit-ton of blood. Well, it certainly could have been worse.
I put a burrito in the microwave and went to grab my shovel. As I buried the evidence, I worked out how to avoid mishaps like this in the future. I came up with a short new list of rules:
Always listen to the head in the box.
To reduce cleanup, try to kill all mimics outside (preferably on the burn pile).
Fight dirty.
As soon as I finished burying the last of the mess, I came inside hoping for some rest. Instead, I saw Benjamin, standing at the counter, waiting for me.
“Wow,” he said. “This place is a real dump.”
“Yeah,” I answered. “I’ve been meaning to do something about it.”
Jerry screamed, “Casper Van Dien!”
I took a moment to stretch, then said, “Hey, as long as you’re here, would you mind helping me with something out back?”