corner of his eye, Peter saw a lanky shape dash across the road. He stopped, looked and listened. The moon was bright, but he couldn’t see anything. He was about to continue on when a figure emerged from behind a bit of brush at the edge of the forest.
Peter froze, but only for a second, before turning and running into the woods. He ran hard and fast, as quickly as he could safely go in the low light. He kept his ears alert for the sounds of the creature and his eyes pivoting from the ground to the treetops. With nothing but socks protecting his feet, he knew that any wrong step could be the end of him.
Thirty seconds in, he saw it. A rope ladder was hanging from a balcony that appeared to run all the way around a squarely built building perched in one of the larger trees.
Peter grabbed the ladder and made his way up and into the tree house. He pulled the ladder up behind him and scanned the forest. He’d seen those creatures jump back at the prison and in the news reports. It could reach him, but he’d stand a better chance here than he would on the ground.
Peter turned and pushed open the door to the tree house. It was empty except for a few blankets and pillows, a stash of candy and soda, empty food packages and other assorted garbage. There was a window in the wall opposite the door, but it was small, and Peter didn’t think the creature could get in through it. The walls themselves weren’t thick, though. He had no doubt that those claws could make quick work of them.
As he moved across the room, a glint of metal caught the moonlight. Peter bent down and picked up a serrated steak knife, most likely stolen from some mother’s kitchen. Peter gripped the knife with the blade facing down and stepped back out onto the balcony.
He saw the creature immediately. It was moving slowly but deliberately, as though following a trail. It moved closer to the tree house before finally jerking its head up and staring directly at Peter. The moonlight reflected off the visor covering the thing’s eyes, making it look like the mask was glowing.
Peter stepped back and braced himself against the outside wall of the tree house as the alien crouched and prepared for a leap.
It jumped and very nearly cleared the platform, but its foot caught beneath the balcony as it attempted to land. The thing fell forward, and its claws sank into the wood of the platform as it slid backward, cleanly punching through the wood and stopping its fall.
Peter knew he would have only one chance. He lashed out with the knife and drove it into the creature’s hand. As it screamed out in rage, Peter pulled the knife out and plunged it directly into its toothy maw. He felt the knife sink in and swiftly pulled it out before those teeth could clamp down on his hand.
The alien gnashed its teeth and pulled its uninjured hand from the wood to swipe at him, but Peter ducked the swing of the claws and used the opportunity to stab at the creature’s mouth again. The knife plunged deeper this time and got stuck. Peter pulled his hand out but not quickly enough to avoid being scraped by the teeth as the alien bit down again.
But with the knife still in its mouth, the act of biting down appeared to drive it even deeper. The thing’s mouth thrashed and twisted, sending a spray of dark blood over Peter.
Peter reached down and pulled at the claws that were still embedded in the wood. They came out, and the alien fell and landed hard at the base of the tree.
Peter looked down. It was still alive but didn’t appear as though it was in any condition to get up, much less make another leap.
Peter walked back into the tree house and picked up one of the blankets. He carefully wiped the alien’s blood off then tossed it into the far corner. He would wait until the creature died then, if it was safe, climb down to retrieve the knife.
He cleared part of the floor of garbage, gathered up the rest of the blankets and pillows and made a bed. He knew he would not be
Peter froze, but only for a second, before turning and running into the woods. He ran hard and fast, as quickly as he could safely go in the low light. He kept his ears alert for the sounds of the creature and his eyes pivoting from the ground to the treetops. With nothing but socks protecting his feet, he knew that any wrong step could be the end of him.
Thirty seconds in, he saw it. A rope ladder was hanging from a balcony that appeared to run all the way around a squarely built building perched in one of the larger trees.
Peter grabbed the ladder and made his way up and into the tree house. He pulled the ladder up behind him and scanned the forest. He’d seen those creatures jump back at the prison and in the news reports. It could reach him, but he’d stand a better chance here than he would on the ground.
Peter turned and pushed open the door to the tree house. It was empty except for a few blankets and pillows, a stash of candy and soda, empty food packages and other assorted garbage. There was a window in the wall opposite the door, but it was small, and Peter didn’t think the creature could get in through it. The walls themselves weren’t thick, though. He had no doubt that those claws could make quick work of them.
As he moved across the room, a glint of metal caught the moonlight. Peter bent down and picked up a serrated steak knife, most likely stolen from some mother’s kitchen. Peter gripped the knife with the blade facing down and stepped back out onto the balcony.
He saw the creature immediately. It was moving slowly but deliberately, as though following a trail. It moved closer to the tree house before finally jerking its head up and staring directly at Peter. The moonlight reflected off the visor covering the thing’s eyes, making it look like the mask was glowing.
Peter stepped back and braced himself against the outside wall of the tree house as the alien crouched and prepared for a leap.
It jumped and very nearly cleared the platform, but its foot caught beneath the balcony as it attempted to land. The thing fell forward, and its claws sank into the wood of the platform as it slid backward, cleanly punching through the wood and stopping its fall.
Peter knew he would have only one chance. He lashed out with the knife and drove it into the creature’s hand. As it screamed out in rage, Peter pulled the knife out and plunged it directly into its toothy maw. He felt the knife sink in and swiftly pulled it out before those teeth could clamp down on his hand.
The alien gnashed its teeth and pulled its uninjured hand from the wood to swipe at him, but Peter ducked the swing of the claws and used the opportunity to stab at the creature’s mouth again. The knife plunged deeper this time and got stuck. Peter pulled his hand out but not quickly enough to avoid being scraped by the teeth as the alien bit down again.
But with the knife still in its mouth, the act of biting down appeared to drive it even deeper. The thing’s mouth thrashed and twisted, sending a spray of dark blood over Peter.
Peter reached down and pulled at the claws that were still embedded in the wood. They came out, and the alien fell and landed hard at the base of the tree.
Peter looked down. It was still alive but didn’t appear as though it was in any condition to get up, much less make another leap.
Peter walked back into the tree house and picked up one of the blankets. He carefully wiped the alien’s blood off then tossed it into the far corner. He would wait until the creature died then, if it was safe, climb down to retrieve the knife.
He cleared part of the floor of garbage, gathered up the rest of the blankets and pillows and made a bed. He knew he would not be
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