Bits & Pieces by Jonathan Maberry Page B

truck . . . the truck!” he bellowed, but Hannahlily was already heading for it at a pace that outstripped his. They ran around the house to where the truck was parked. The strange, hungry, moaning creatures staggered behind. Some chased them all the way to the truck, others seemed to become distracted by the storm and stumbled out into the fields or onto the road.
    Then they were inside the truck. The keys were in the ignition. Out here, this deep in farm country, the keys were always in the ignition, and the big engine roared to life as if it, too, were startled into a desperate frenzy. The white figures were in the yard now, coming around the house toward the truck, but Tucker gave the truck as much gas as it would take. The back wheels spun for a moment, kicking up huge arcs of mud that splattered the figures and the side of the house; then the truck found purchase, and it shot forward toward the road.
    A figure stood in the way, and it, more than all the others, seemed to be conjured from some bizarre fantasy of madness.
    It was a woman in a pretty white bridal gown. Her mouth was open to scream her ugly need at Hannahlily; her handsreached out and clawed the air as if she could tear the young couple from the truck.
    Tucker bellowed something incoherent and hit the gas as he steered right toward her. Then Hannahlily did something that she could never thereafter explain to herself. She grabbed the wheel and shoved it the other way, fighting Tucker’s strength to turn the pickup. The bride loomed in the headlights, but the truck swerved and only the rear fender brushed the bride. It was enough to lift her, to fling her into the teeth of the storm, to drop her in a muddy puddle.
    But as the pickup roared down the road, Hannahlily turned and looked through the rear window, and in a flash of lightning saw the bride get slowly and shakily to her feet.
    Tucker was yelling as the house dwindled behind them. “God . . . oh God . . . oh God! What’s happening? What were they?”
    The truck punched a hole through the night, found the main road, and rocketed along it toward town.
    Hannahlily heard a voice praying. It took her a moment to realize that it was her voice. Praying. Begging God and Mary and the saints. Using fragments of prayers she’d learned in Sunday school. Old stuff. She hadn’t been to church at all except for Christmas Eve with her folks. But as her awareness caught up with the prayers, she realized that in that moment those prayers were meant. They were meant with every last bit of who she was.
    God. Please.
    Please.
    She remembered the crazy news stories and quickly turned on the radio.
    The music stations played music.
    The news, though.
    The guy who read the news . . .
    He was crying. Screaming and crying.
    On the radio.
    They drove all the way to the edge of town before they saw the first explosions. Then they stopped on a hill, and Tucker put the pickup into park. They sat together and watched.
    The road down from the hilltop was clogged with cars. So was the one rising from the burning town.
    Their town.
    Even with storming winds blowing, there were helicopters in the air.
    Hannahlily and Tucker watched in stunned silence. Their mouths slack but their minds screaming. Even in the absence of all information, they both knew that what they had just escaped were not people. Not anymore. They were things . Creatures.
    Tucker was shaking his head in denial of everything. His eyes were fever bright as he cut looks at her. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Are you hurt?”
    She shook her head. “I’m . . . I’m . . . no . . . no, I’m okay.”
    â€œThank God,” he said. He gripped the wheel and drove into the night, heading for the road back into town. When Hannahlily reached out to squeeze his arm, he yelped in pain.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?”
    â€œI don’t know,” he said with