The Cellar: A Post-Apocalyptic Novella by Richard Dela Cruz Page B

decapitated him.”
    He went on to describe how the intruders rushed up to the surface and killed three more men. By that time, the entire camp had been alerted. But even with high-powered assault rifles, it took a while to take all of them down.
    “Those were crazy bastards,” Walter said. “I’d never seen people with axes and knives charge against a hail of automatic fire. They just kept coming at us like zombies on crack.” He shuddered. “It’s like they all came straight out of hell.” He curled his hands into fists and clenched them. “I’ll never forget what happened to Uncle Mort. That psycho bitch with teeth on her necklace ripped him open.” A sob escaped him. “Before he died, he kept trying to stuff his guts back inside.”
    “How’d the intruders get into the food storage?”
    “Damned if I know.” Walter ran his hands through his hair and grabbed it. “There’s no other way in or out of there, and we’d never seen them until this morning. They just appeared out of nowhere.”

    ⊕   ⊕   ⊕

    A T THE END OF THE day, Garrison trudged back to his cruiser and shut the door. He opened his glove compartment and rummaged around until he retrieved a pack of cigarettes. He inserted a cigarette in his mouth, lighted the tip, and watched the orange glow in the fading light of dusk. Taking a long drag, he sat back and blew the smoke out the window.
    He went through the facts over and over again in his head. He’d visited the food cellar and searched for another entrance. He’d questioned several other militia members repeatedly. He’d gone through surveillance tapes. Yet he had found nothing that could explain how seventeen crazed freaks got beamed into the cellar from a slasher flick dimension.
    “Try putting that on your report.” He chuckled to himself.
    He turned on the radio to distract his mind from the day’s events. Tim McGraw was crooning about living while dying. Garrison closed his eyes and lowered the back of his seat, his hand hanging out the window to let the ash from his cigarette drop to the ground.
    Minutes later the news came on. There was a report about the events at the militia compound. The media couldn’t confirm anything at this point and were still waiting for an official statement from the sheriff. Garrison sucked on his cigarette and blew smoke at the radio.
    The news was followed by a sound bite regarding a completely different topic:

    “The asteroid, which is expected to arrive within the next year, will be one of the closest near-Earth objects ever recorded. Based on its trajectory and our calculations, there’s a slight chance of collision with the possibility of an Extinction Level Event.”

    Garrison turned off the radio and brought his seat up. It was time to head back and face the cameras. He turned the ignition key, and the motor roared to life. He was about to engage the gears when something made him kill the engine. He stepped out of his car, removed his sidearm from the holster, and pointed it in the direction of the woods.
    “This is the Sheriff,” he called out. “Come out where I can see you.”
    Only the distant sound of an owl greeted him. He reached for his flashlight and aimed it at the trees, sweeping the beam over the whole area. After waiting a few moments, he turned the flashlight off and holstered his weapon. Shaking his head, he got back into the cruiser. He should either have his eyes checked or get therapy. He could’ve sworn he saw a cloaked figure walking among the trees.

Also by Richard Dela Cruz

    Stark Raving Maddie: A Maddie Jax Thriller

    Sixteen-year-old Maddie Jax has only one thing on her mind: save her younger sister from a sexual predator. The plan was simple: take a cross-country bus ride, confront the creep, and rescue Amy.
    When Maddie gets booted off the bus two thousand miles short of her destination, she accepts a ride from a stranger. But things go wrong, and she finds herself trapped inside a creepy basement lit