A second later the older trucker released the girl and helped her push the corpse forward through the opening. Even more arms grabbed it, and Rachel let go as it started to move of its own volition through the gap. Then the veterinarian and the older man grabbed the girl and the man she protected and pulled for all they were worth.
The things outside held for a moment longer, then the injured man's body and legs slid in through the door and into the back hall. The waitress tried to slam the door shut with her foot but a couple of intruding hands pushed back.
"We're not done!" she yelled, "We've got to close the door!"
But even as she said it, the young man and the older trucker slammed their bodies into the door. Two hands were still inside, and bone crunched as the metal door closed on the wrists. For a moment, Rachel wondered how they were going to free the doorway but the matter took care of itself.
Apparently the owners of the appendages must have been more interested in the corpse outside than getting in through the door. One of them managed to somehow pull its damaged hand back through the narrow crack in the door...peeling the skin off like a fleshy glove as it did. The other simply tore itself free from the trapped extremity, leaving it to tilt and fall to the floor as the door finally slammed shut.
The trucker and the young redneck looked at the severed hand, then at each other in disbelief. For a moment they continued to push against the door, as if not sure what else to do, then exhaled together and eased the pressure.
It was over.
The two men slid down to the floor, their backs against the door. The younger scrunched his face in distaste at the two pieces of human debris left behind and kicked out with his foot until he had knocked them both under the big stainless steel sink nearby. The older man just panted and stared at the ceiling above.
Blood smeared the floor and walls, and covered all of them from where they had been squirming and thrashing in the stuff. The smell of it mingled with the cloying scent of rot and formaldehyde remaining after the door closed on their attackers.
The odor reminded Rachel of the necropsy lab back in school.
But that observation was merely tangential because her ears still rang from the dead trucker's last cry. It had been the worst sound she ever heard in her life and it now echoed in her mind like a mental banshee.
So that's what it sounds like when people die and know it's happening.
She closed her eyes and buried her face into her hands. The shaken woman knew she would be hearing that scream for a long time to come.
"Benny?" a nearby voice intruded into Rachel's awareness. "Benny, answer me!"
It was the waitress' voice...but also one she had heard eighteen months ago.
"Benny! Answer me! Oh God, please don't die! Don't you dare die!
Do something.
"No, Benny! Don't you dare die on me! Do you hear me!" the voice was growing shrill, and heading for a very bad place...a place Rachel knew all too well. "BENNY!!! DON'T YOU DARE DIE!"
Do something, Rachel! You're a doctor, dammit! Do something...right now!
But I'm not a human doctor.
You'll have to do.
But I'm not qualified!
You're what she's got, dammit! Now do something! Anything! But do it!
Rachel squeezed back the tears and opened her eyes. She got to her hands and knees and crawled over to the where the young woman was screaming and shaking her fallen friend. Blood covered the man from the waist down, and she couldn't even tell where the wounds were due to the blood-soaked clothes.
Good! Start with that. Find the wounds and assess them. This is about a hundred and eighty pound mammal with multiple wounds of unknown severity. There is evidence of major blood loss accompanied by the large probability of shock. Now move!
The clinical side of her mind asserted itself and Rachel felt the first harbingers of control return. She was a doctor. She had a patient. And she had a client who was approaching hysterics. She had a job to do, and she needed to act.
Now.
"Easy," Rachel Sutherland, DVM, laid a hand on the girl's shoulder and moved next to her beside the stricken man. "I'm something of a doctor. Let me help."
The Storm - Marisa.
Marisa inspected the repaired section of eyeliner with a critical eye that would have done any makeup artist proud.
Not that there had been much wrong with it in the first place.
The damage had been minor, although she did prefer her makeup to be flawless. But she now suspected Stacey had used the tiny smudge for her own nefarious purposes. For one thing, the little minx knew quite well the art of applying makeup was like a zen exercise to Marisa, who found the concentration of the process to be calming, and the tall waitress now harbored no doubt it been brought up for just such a purpose.
And like most of Stacey's little schemes...it worked.
"Okay, you stinker," she chuckled. "You win this one, but don't think I will forget this."
She straightened and stepped back to survey the rest of herself in the bathroom mirror. Her lustrous black hair still lay thick and almost straight from its earlier brushing, with just the perfect hint of wave to frame her face without looking the least bit styled. Her uniform hugged her long form without being tight enough to be tacky, and she wore the little waist apron at the perfect level to both accent her figure and have the desired effect on the length of torso.
Marisa favored her reflection with a smile so catlike in satisfaction one would almost expect her to purr.
This would do.
This would do just fine.
Mr. Harley Whatshisname was now officially the luckiest redneck on the planet.
The young woman popped a hair brush from her apron, deciding a few more strokes might be in order. Marisa would be damned if she was going to appear to hurry back out there just to be available for this escapade. Appearances mattered. Girls of her caliber were worth waiting for, and it never hurt to drive that point home early. Besides, it would serve her conniving little friend right to have to watch the whole restaurant for a few more minutes.
"Hmph! The place is dead anyway," she smirked. "And one should always do at least a hundred strokes."
She was only into the third stroke when she paused and frowned at the bathroom wall.
What was that?
She thought she had heard something...a yell, or some kind of commotion.
The fan in the women's bathroom was loud, and the fact the restrooms were on the store side of the truck stop building meant there was a brick firewall between them and the restaurant side. Still, however faint, she felt pretty sure she had heard something. And that something hadn't sounded good.
Her brow furrowed with both curiosity and concern, and she moved towards the back wall of the restroom and away from the noisy ceiling fan. As she did, the faint noises of thumping and the metallic thud like the back door being kicked reached her ears. What the hell was going on over there? The waitress tilted her head in confusion at the faint din.
Then a second later, the unmistakable sound of a scream pierced the thick wall.
Marisa stood up straight and whirled towards the door. The brush fell forgotten from her hand as she hurried towards the exit.
That had been Stacey, and she sounded like she was in trouble...bad trouble.
Her mind raced as she moved. If Stacey were in some kind of struggle at the back door, then she must have gone outside after Tomas instead of Benny. Which was probably another reason she distracted her with the eyeliner ruse, to keep Benny in the kitchen and yet spare Tomas a well deserved ass shredding at the same time. Only she must have run into some kind of trouble while out there...and Marisa had a good idea what that trouble was.
"Libby," she snarled and fished her car keys out of her pocket as she moved. Her fist closed around the ring, leaving a key protruding like a metal spike between each finger.
It sounded like the hooker had decided to take their little feud to a new, more violent level and chose to go after Stacey when she saw the opportunity. The smaller girl, out in the parking lot alone, must have made a target the mangy prostitute just couldn't resist. Well, if that was the case then Marisa intended to dish out an education the sorry whore would never forget on the subject of what happened when she messed with her friends.
"You should have come after me first, puta," she growled as her hand reached for the bathroom door, "because then I would have gone a lot easier on you. Now I'm going to wreck your ass!"
The bathrooms faced each other across a short hall in the back of the store side of the truck stop, with the employee's entrance at the back of the hall. The only problem was the employee's door could only be opened from the other side without a key, so when the waitresses had to use the restrooms they were forced to return to their stations by walking through the store and coming in the front door of the diner.
Only a minute longer, amiga. I'll be right there.
Then, as her fingers closed around the handle...
...all hell broke loose on the other side of the door.
Marisa froze at the explosion of crashing and screaming that erupted all at once. It sounded like a full blown riot had broken out in the store.
She recognized the shrieks as coming from Gladys, who must have been either at the side door smoking a cigarette or behind the nearby counter. Somebody else was screaming as well, as if Gladys had a customer at the time and they were being murdered together. A mighty crash and clatter shook the place, and Marisa realized it could have only come from the big cigarette rack suspended over the counter being yanked down.
What in the hell was going on out there?
Marisa stopped and reconsidered her options.
Nobody who knew her could have ever confused the raven haired waitress for a coward, but she wasn't a fool either. Whatever the heck was going on out there, it was a lot worse than some truck stop hooker with a grudge. It sounded more like a gang of some kind had broken into the store and was wrecking the place. Wading out into the middle of something like that didn't make sense to her in the least.
At the same time, she knew hiding out in the bathroom didn't count as an option either. She couldn't risk getting caught alone in here by this gang of mystery marauders with nowhere to run. She needed to go out there, but she needed to do it smart.
The girl reached over and snapped off the bathroom light and fan. Now the noise of the fan wouldn't herald the opening of the bathroom door to any listeners nearby. Then she checked herself to make sure she had nothing likely to fall out of her apron or pocket that might make a sound and give her away.
She knew she was only going to get one chance to do this, and it had to be right.
Marisa waited until the fan quit whining, then crouched and slowly pulled the bathroom door open. Once she had it wide enough, she slipped through into little hallway. The girl stayed low, which meant she couldn't see over the shelves into the store, but it also meant she wouldn't be visible to whoever was doing the thrashing and crashing on the other side of the room.
A loud rumble of thunder, along with the distinct hiss of rain, told her the side door must be wide open. That, combined with the current location of the thrashing sounds, meant her exit options were now either the front entrance or the door to the restaurant. Each had its merits, but she wouldn't be able to make the final decision until she got there.
Reaching the front of the little hall, Marisa stayed in her crouch and did a quick look left and right down the length of the back wall and the cooler doors. Nobody lurked in either direction, so she made a quick dash straight ahead into the aisle of automotive products. The waitress stopped to catch her breath, and listen for more clues on what to do next.
Gladys had stopped screaming, but Marisa didn't know if it counted as a good or bad thing. A male voice still made a guttural "ungh ungh" sound she found deeply disturbing, as if it were made by a dying animal that was pinned and too weak to struggle further. There was still enough rustling and thrashing for her to know there must be several people moving around near the counter. What the hell was going on over there?
Part of her really didn't want to know.
Then things got worse.
A second later she heard the door to either the restaurant or the entrance jerk open, and realized she was only ten feet from that end of the aisle. If this was one of the maniacs attacking people then he would be on top of her in just a matter of seconds, and there would be almost no way she could avoid being seen by him. Retreat was the only option.
Marisa remained crouched and crabbed her way backwards for a few feet. Eyes fixed on the front of the aisle, she kept her keys clenched in her fist. Right now she would have preferred a weapon with more reach...like an assault rifle, perhaps...but this was what she had and she had it ready for use. Still, this scenario demanded avoidance, if at all possible, so the young woman took a few more crouching steps rearwards before turning to make a hurried dash back to the restroom hallway.
That brought her almost face to face with the nightmare coming around the back end of the aisle.
"Madre de Dios!" Marisa choked back a scream, and crossed herself at the same time.
Suddenly she was a little girl again...the one who listened to her Aunt Estelle's litany of horrors who licked their lips and waited in Hell for the bad women who didn't go to church and behaved without shame. Aunt Estelle must have had a rogue's gallery of demons somewhere, for she could go into great and gory detail of what awaited each naughty brat who got too full of herself and fell away from the protections of Heaven. Several of them bore a remarkable resemblance to this monstrosity...only this thing must have decided it had waited long enough and crawled its way out of Hell to come looking for her instead.
The young woman instinctively reached for the little cross she no longer wore around her neck, and felt the little girl inside wail when her hand closed on air. She had put it away her last year of high school, unwilling to endure the scorn from the more "modern" girls in her class. She wondered if Aunt Estelle was looking down on her from Heaven right this moment, and if so was she pleading to the saints nearby for intervention...
...or shaking her head in righteous finality at the niece who had brought damnation on herself.
Marisa could only lift the fistful of keys between the horror and her in warning as she backed away; while keenly aware of what a puny threat it was in the face of such a demon.
Its tiny eyes glared with mad lust from their dark sockets as it approached, picking up the pace with each step. It closed with her rapidly, and the woman knew it was going to be on her in a second whether she faced it or turned to run. She did the only thing she could and lashed out with her key spiked fist as the stinking creature reached for her.
The blow landed at a solid angle, and actually snapped the things head to the side. Marisa was not a tiny girl and could throw a soft ball from her position in center field all the way to second base without a relay man. On top of that, she had been raised on the side of town where a girl had to step up for herself from time to time, even if she usually found such activity classless and shameful.
Usually.
Right now she was scared out of her mind and ready to throw down with the devil himself.
Unfortunately, this thing gave no sign of being impressed by her resolve...or her makeshift weapon. The horror turned its nearly fleshless face back towards her, its grin seeming to mock her attempt at self defense. It showed no sign the blow had it fazed it.
Marisa screamed and drew back her fist to strike again as the thing's jaws parted in anticipation of its final lunge.
But the fist that landed next didn't come from her...and it impacted with power enough to spin the monstrosity around and knock it to the ground.
Marisa squeaked as the fist drew back past her and twisted to see the tightly smiling face of Harley as he put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her behind him.
"There's more of these things outside," the tall redneck gritted in a weirdly calm voice as he stepped past. "So go back through the restaurant door, but be ready to let me through."
Marisa didn't move, standing like a deer in the headlights, and could only bring herself to point at the monster behind the man as it started to climb to its feet.
It never got the chance.
Harley turned and caught it by the back of the neck with one hand and its outstretched arm with the other. He shifted his weight and brought the thing to its feet in one smooth motion before spinning around with it and smashing it face first into the cooler doors with enough force to shatter the glass. The man didn't hesitate to see the effect of the move, but adjusted his grip and yanked the flailing monster back out of the glass. He turned with it and smashed it face first on a steel shelf three times, just like a professional wrestler would put his opponents head into a turnbuckle, before spinning once again to throw the creature into a nearby pyramid of oil cans.
Marisa knew martial arts when she saw them, and apparently they had been trained to the point of reflex with this guy. And at his size, with those muscles, his moves had all the power and authority of a tiger. To say the man was devastating was an understatement. The fact he was ridiculously good looking on top of it was almost taking things to the absurd.
The thing he was fighting wasn't so impressed.
The demon floundered straight back to its feet in the cans, seemingly unbothered by the beating it had just taken.
"Holy shit! You're a tough bastard," the rangy young man sounded surprised.
The monster's sunken eyes fixed on Harley with the same look of intense ferocity it had only seconds ago regarded Marisa with.
It attacked without hesitation, only to have a stepping over side kick drive into its chest and slam it back against the wall. It still didn't go down. Clearly pain meant nothing to this thing. The horror rebounded from the wall and started straight back towards the man...
...just in time to take a roundhouse kick to the side of the head that smacked it's skull off its shoulder with an audible snap.
This time it went down for good.