A New World: Untold Stories by John O'Brien Page A

it in,” Sam suggests.
    Some of the others are gathered around the man Mark knocked unconscious, talking quietly amongst themselves. Meg stands by herself in the center of the turn lane. The night is still without a breath stirring. The silence and residual heat from the day seems to stifle the area, like a blanket has been thrown over the city. The air carries a calm and peace yet with an underlying tension. The silence is broken as several dogs in the neighborhood begin barking, first one, then with others joining in almost immediately.
    “Hey, uh, guys. There are a couple of people running this way,” Meg says, pointing down one of the side streets.
    “They must have heard the crash and are coming to check it out,” James states, looking down the dark street where Meg is pointing.
    “How many?” Mark asks.
    “I think I saw three when they passed under the street light,” Meg answers.
    The barking of the dogs takes on a more frantic nature, or perhaps it’s just Sam’s imagination. He eases away from the car to get a better view as he can’t see very far down the street Meg indicated.
    “Holy shit they’re fast. They were just, well…” Meg begins.
    Three people emerge from the darkened side street, coming to a halt in the light. Seeing the group around the fallen man, they lift their heads and emit screams similar to that of the crazed man. Their high-pitched shrieks roll down the tree-lined avenue. With a quickness that is startling, they dart toward the group standing around the man on the ground.
    “Meg, get back,” Sam yells, starting toward her and finally dropping his Samuel Adams.
    Amidst the shrieks, other bottles fall from hands and hit the ground, shattering on the hard surface. Before the huddled group can react, the running figures plow into their midst. Screams erupt, startled terror from the one group, and hunger from the other. Three of the four go down before the onslaught, falling hard to the ground with the attackers on top.
    Sam makes his way to Meg, who stands rooted to one spot, and shoves her behind him. Mark and James hurtle past heading for their stricken friends.
    “Stay here,” Sam says, and follows.
    The growling figures on top are clawing and biting at those on the ground. Screams of agony pierce the night from those taken down. The fourth, left unmolested, is tugging at one of the figures trying to pull it off one of the downed members. One of the attackers rises and lunges at the one trying to help, knocking him to the ground and tearing into him.
    Mark hits the nearest attacker, plowing into the figure and driving it off one of the fallen. The screams, once filling the night, fade and become moans of pain. James approaches another interloper and kicks it in the side. The attacker emits a cough as air is forcefully exhaled and rolls to the side. Mark is punching at the one on the ground when the remaining crazed one rises and starts for James from the side. Before it reaches him, Sam slams into its side, tackling him to the ground.
    Sam hits hard with the body beneath him. He’s never been in a fight before so he’s not sure what to do. His heart is racing with fear, but he couldn’t very well let James get taken like that. The man beneath him is struggling for all he’s worth. Sam wrestles, trying to pin the man down, to gain some sort of leverage, but all he can do is hang on as the man is relentless.
    Before Sam can register it, he’s thrown upward and to the side. A blur of dark movement is all he sees before a heavy weight falls upon him. He’s barely aware of the bodies beside him and feels fingernails rake his cheek and neck. Screaming mostly from fear, but also from the burning sensation from several deep scratches, he fights to block the man’s hands, which seem to be everywhere at one.
    The man’s face is inches from his own, snarling as he tries to get closer to sink his teeth into Sam’s flesh. Expecting to see a crazed look in the man’s eyes, Sam