Dead and Quiet

The early morning was cold. It froze the skin on his face and his hands. His arms, his legs, and even his crotch were stippled by goosebumps. The first rays had appeared on the horizon, but the young sun only had light to provide and not yet the needed warmth.

But another coldness disturbed him. The icy hands that had gotten hold of his heart, of his stomach, and the marrows beneath his bones. Adrenaline had done a lot to muffle the pangs of fear when he was suddenly thrown into the chaos yesterday.

That morning it was different. He was willingly driving towards danger, and he could not count on his flight or fight response to help him be brave.

A pair of lights, emerged from the slope of the road, just as the intersection loomed in the distance.

The car was a welcomed sight, in what he thought would be an empty road. The car slowing down and stopping, when he slowed and stopped himself, was an even more welcomed progression.

The window which mirrored his pale, cold-stricken face, slowly winded down. Behind it, was a bearded man, a face he had seen somewhere but had not assigned a name.

Beside him a lady, he assumed to be his wife. He could hear the voices of the children in the backseat.

"Where are you going?" the man asked with the perplexed anger of a pissed-off dad.

"Out of here," Pierre replied, rubbing the palms of his freezing hands.

"Out of here? You are driving opposite of Olcrum," the driver said.

Olcrum was the neighboring state to the south, in the direction the stranger was taking. It would only take another county before he crosses the state line. It would be the fastest way to get out of the state, but that would take him in the opposite direction of Thornston, in the north.

"I am not heading for Olcrum."

"Well, if you keep this way, you'd be dead. The demons have reached the intersection," informed the driver, "And I am going to stop at every house I can, and tell these fools that they can't hide. These demons can ransack doors and windows.

Pierre looked at the houses in the distance again. Now that he had heard the news, he could see something wrong. Some things were flying and standing on roofs, and there were black marks on buildings that could mean holes.

"Were there still people in the neighborhood, when the demons arrived?" Pierre asked, at the same time yearning and dreading to hear the answer.

"Yes… we could hear all the screaming from the farm," it was her wife, who answered, her voice high-pitched and trembling, "That's when we decided to pack our bag."

"We're heading for Camp Stalwart, in Olcrum. My son-in-law is stationed there. You can come with us," the man in the driver seat, offered.

Pierre would have been more tempted with the offer if he had not seen the broadcast. The military can do nothing. And if demons did appear when there were too many people, then a military base would not be an exception.

"It's best if you turn around. Follow our tail, if you want." the man slowly pulled the window back up.

Pierre watched the car drive away. It was stupid of him to think, the demons would stay in the city. If the demons actively hunt for humans, then it would only be a matter of time, before the Martin farm was found.

The bearded man would stop by the colonel's house too, and with his account, could convince him to go somewhere. That's what he convinced himself, as he pulled on the throttle before he could decide to do contrary to what he had set out to do.

Pierre met several more fleeing cars. All of the houses that weren't yet empty, were packing up. It baffled him that it took a whole twelve hours for them to decide to flee. But then again, the ridiculousness of demons suddenly appearing and invading the city, probably played a part.

The screeching of wheels had him slow down again. He was just 500 meters away from the intersection, when he saw a pickup truck, zigzagging in the distance. Smoke rose from the asphalt due to the friction. It took a few more seconds, for him to realize, that the driver of the car was trying to lose something holding onto the hatch.

Pierre promptly increased his speed to meet the car. It continued swerving like a horse trying to throw down the rider on its back.

He was about to pass the car and get a clear line of sight against the unwelcome hitchhikers when the struggle came to an abrupt stop. The beleaguered driver miscalculated and drove straight into a boulder.

Pierre pulled the brakes and drifted, so he would be facing the incapacitated car at the side of the road. As he had suspected, the demons were minions. The creatures had sustained bruises through the whole ordeal but still had the energy to excitedly resume their attack on the truck as soon as it stopped.

Then they saw him. They growled and with demonic swiftness, barreled towards him and the motorbike.

Pierre was reminded of the ugliness of the creatures. They opened their mouths like Venus flytraps.

Despite the fact it was not his first time, the confrontation with the otherworldly beings, sent him to panic mode. After all, it was only yesterday that he was so rudely introduced to them.

He summoned the coin, and the instincts or whatever force it was, that made his body move accordingly, took care of the rest. After two basic attacks, the last one at point black range, another two demons had been added to his kill count.

[You have killed Minion]

[You have gained Experience]

[You have killed Minion]

[You have gained Experience]

Pierre now completely roused and alert, frantically scanned his surroundings for other demons that might have followed.

He flinched at a sudden nearby sound. It came from the car. The door by the driver seat had been swung open. A man emerged and fell on his knees on the ground. No blood or obvious injuries.

Then the man looked up at Pierre to show yet another stranger's face.

"You… you were that man yesterday. The professor… with the broken car," the man said.

Pierre promptly knew what next to ask. "You know Bob… the mechanic?"

"Yes," was the quick and short reply.

"Were they still at their house, when the demons arrived?" Pierre asked.

"I believe so, yes," the man said, as he slowly stood up. Wobbly, he had to lean on the car.

Pierre's breath came out a cloud of smoke when he exhaled sharply. He combed his hair, as he gazed into the distant houses with growing desperation.

"But they might be alive… still," said the driver.

Pierre reared the motorbike upright and kicked the stand off the ground. "Why do you say so?"

"The demons… they only attack when they hear sound or see people," said the stranger, "I saw Bob pulling all the blinds down, last night, so no light would spill out of their windows.

"The last time I saw it, their house looked dead and quiet."