Mail Order Massacres. Hunter Shea
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Название: Mail Order Massacres

Автор: Hunter Shea

Издательство: Ingram

Жанр: Научная фантастика

Серия: Mail Order Massacres

isbn: 9781516109142

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ better save it for later,” Annie said, breaking off their embrace with a devilish smile. She slipped into her toga, the hem barely covering the bottom swell of her cheeks.

      “And then even later, when we get home.”

      “And no showering. I want to taste her on you.”

      Bill’s heart fluttered.

      He’d heard of endless horror stories about swapping. Real life couldn’t be further from the truth. Or at least their real life.

      “Hail Caesar!” Bill cried out, swooping his wife into his arms. She giggled, telling him to put her down.

      As they exited the spare bedroom, they heard someone cry out.

      “They’re getting rowdy early,” Annie said.

      “Or we’re just getting a late start,” Bill said, stopping in the kitchen to pour a shot of good Scotch and downing it. Mitchell Mc-Grath always brought the high-end stuff. He should. He owned the liquor store on Virginia Avenue.

      A man yelled, “What the fuck?”

      Bill raised an eyebrow. “I wonder if that’s the new guy. He might not understand how things work.”

      The bottle slipped from his hand when it sounded as if everyone at the party started screaming at once. It landed on top of Annie’s bare foot. She cried out in pain, hopping around the kitchen. “Oh, I think you broke my foot.”

      He didn’t have time to console her.

      The back door slammed open. Their neighbors tried to cram their way inside. In their excitement, they attempted to get in the house in one big pile. Instead, their bodies wedged in the doorway. It looked like something from a Three Stooges movie.

      “What the hell’s going on?” Bill said.

      He saw Robert’s face and his stomach dropped to his balls.

      His neighbor was covered in blood. There was a long, ragged gash down the center of his face. His nose was split in half like a bowling alley hotdog.

      “Oh my God,” Annie screamed, digging her nails into Bill’s arm.

      As people popped free from the bottleneck, spilling onto the linoleum floor, Bill and Annie could see what was behind the roiling panic.

      Black alien bodies reflected the torchlight. To Bill, they looked like oil slicks come to life. Some were feasting on their friends, togas drenched in gore, parts that should be inside now outside. The black beasts, not much taller than a ten-year-old kid, pounced on the back of the people to the rear of the bottleneck. Geysers of blood shot straight into the air.

      “We have to get the hell out of here,” Bill said.

      “I can’t walk,” Annie moaned, raw terror in her wet eyes.

      Bill swept her off her feet, carrying her close to his chest. Someone hit into him from behind, driving him to his knees.

      “No, please, no!” he heard Phyllis cry out. It was followed by a sickening squelch of punctured flesh, then the crunch of bone.

      The damn things were in the house.

      In the bright light, Bill could make them out better—and wished he couldn’t.

      Bulbous heads that were seemingly all mouth sat atop almost human bodies, with the exception of a thick tail that raked back and forth, knocking people’s legs out from under them. As soon as someone went down, another beast was quick to chomp at the softest parts of their exposed flesh.

      The front door!

      He had to get them to the front. All of the creatures appeared to be coming from the backyard.

      Everyone else had the same idea, though there were far fewer of his friends and neighbors now. The terrifying black creatures were taking them down one by one.

      “Hurry, Bill, hurry!” Annie pleaded. Her arms were locked around his neck so tight, it was hard to breathe.

      He got up and sprinted as fast as he could. His heart thumped hard, and he wondered how much longer it could go at this pace before seizing.

      A woman, the new wife, scampered past them. Her scalp had been peeled forward, a wet flap of hair hanging over her face. She blindly ran into the dining room table, knocking herself onto her back.

      That pause was all the monsters needed to finish her. Her scream was cut off quickly. All Bill heard was desperate gurgling.

      Sprinting through the living room, he spied the front door.

      “Almost there,” he assured Annie.

      “They’re right behind us!” she shouted in his ear.

      Bill got to the door, turned the handle and froze.

      It was locked!

      “Bill!”

      He fumbled for the lock.

      Something wet and as hard as cement slammed into his arm, severing it at the elbow. He watched his blood paint the walls and door.

      Annie screamed bloody murder. Suddenly, the weight of her was gone. One of the monsters grabbed a thick cord of her hair, yanking her from his grasp.

      “Annie!”

      There was just enough time to witness the ferocious feast. Everyone was down, flayed open and spilling organs.

      He was so engrossed by the carnage, he didn’t even feel the mouth clamp onto his face.

      * * * *

      The key party provided several hours of unadulterated gluttony. The sea serpents ate and ate, grinding bone into a digestible powder, until there was nothing left but shredded togas and pools of coagulating blood.

      By the time they were done, they had also grown in height, now well over five and a half feet tall. Their muscles swelled out, limbs thickening.

      And they were tired. Satiated.

      They fled from the house, silently padding out the door, slinking down the dark street and slipping into the sewer.

      Because all of the surrounding neighbors had been at the key party, there was no one left to report the disturbance to the police.

      Chapter Seven

      “This sucks if we have to forfeit,” Patrick said.

      He and David had gotten to the field early. They wanted some extra time to scope the area for any pets. David even brought a collar and leash with him. They had belonged to his dog, Bartie. Bartie, a super cool Labrador that lived to hang around the boys, had been hit by a car last year. He had to be put to sleep. David didn’t cry, but he wasn’t himself for weeks after.

      Unfortunately, Coach Clay arrived early, too. He saw them walking the outfield and made them unload the СКАЧАТЬ