En Retard

"Mine, mine, mine," the creature repeats endlessly, as it has no mind of its own and must gloat for its master.

It wraps its cold arms around me in a cruel imitation of an embrace. The ends of my golden hair fall on my shoulders and cling to bare skin where my shirt has torn open. They quickly absorb the blood that is already drying there, turning to sickening red fire. One of the other creatures is chanting the same litany over the blanket that it snatched from my shoulders, equally as proud of its accomplishment.

I watch them warily, saying nothing. My heart quakes with a desire to escape them. I know William did not wish to die for nothing. And he would not have died if it were not for me. It is the tears that fill my eyes which keep me from noticing the expressions on the creatures around me. It is the change in the cadence of those horrid voices that makes me aware that something else is happening.

"Another," one of the voices says, dripping ooze with its voice.

"Another," a harsher voice agrees.

"Another," a squeakier voice responds and this one sounds hungry.

"No, it's him," a fourth replies and the fear in its voice makes the cold in my core begin to melt.

Pandemonium erupts around me. The creature that has me turns and begins a halting run. I find the strength to struggle. I must know who "he" is and why he has caused such fear. If he causes the creatures to think beyond their possessive greed for me, he must be a superdude. With how quick they have all turned to run, he must also be a formidable foe.

The lilting run of the creature that carries me is hampered by my weight, and as I struggle, it slows noticeably. I watch its eyes for a moment. I can almost see it trying to decide if it wants to keep its prize or its mocking imitation of life as gunfire erupts behind us. I hear the horrible screeching of the creatures behind us as gunfire rips through them. It decides to keep its hold on me, which probably doesn't make a difference anyway.

The gunfire continues. I hear a loud voice cursing and swearing, occasionally sending up a whoop of success. Another of these bursts of fire rips through the creature. Its vacuous eyes have sight and humanity for a moment and then they go dim as it tumbles to the ground, pinning me under the weight of its body. I am surprised to find that it feels warm, as warm as William's, but I find no comfort in the contact. I squirm trying to break free. More gunfire pours over me in a volley of death.

Then everything stops. The gunfire stops. The last whoop of success rips through the air and then there is silence. I hear heavy footsteps shuffling in place a few feet from me and I freeze, listening.

The silence is broken, "Headquarters, I believe I have destroyed all of the creatures."

A tinny voice responds through static, "Any signs of the superdudes they were pursuing?"

"No, I don't think..."

I have begun screaming. Some of the vile black sludge from the corpse above me has dripped on my face making me want to gag, but I scream instead. In this moment, I am convinced the sludge is coming for me. I am certain it will begin to take form and try to crawl into me.

A swift kick from a highly-polished army boot sends the corpse flying off of me. I am looking up at an incredibly large man. Muscles ripple from every direction. He has a pair of sunglasses to shield his eyes and a hard green hat buckled under his chin to hide the presence or absence of hair.

"I've found a little girl," he says into what appears to be a CB attached to a sturdy leather band that wraps around the muscle of his upper arm.

"Oh, thank goodness," a familiar voice says in the background as the tinny voice responds, "Good bring her in."

He leans over to scoop me up with large, gloved hands, "I'm AAB. It's okay, we're going back to headquarters. We'll fix you up."

I just stare back at him, wishing I feel reassured. All I feel is empty.

"Looks like I was just in time," he says surveying the damage around him.

"No you weren't," I say sullenly.

"What?" he says, taken aback.

"You weren't in time. You're too late. You're too late," my declaration begins soft, but ends in screams of rage.

I beat against AAB's chest, pounding at the stars and stripes under which his muscles ripple. He remains unmoved, holding me tightly against his chest despite my struggles. The tears on my cheeks continue to pour down. Nothing could bring such pain as this. Somehow it is like losing my father all over again--this time more definitively. Eventually, my strength and anger flag and my punches seem feeble, as feeble as all these attempts to save me from the horrible fate that is mine. As my struggles weaken, he gently pulls me away from his chest and looks at me with dark, sympathetic eyes.

"Hey now, that's going to hurt after a while," he says softly.

He is trying to smile at me though I can see something else in his eyes. The patriotic pattern that covers his chest is now coated in blood. Blood, not the black slime bled by the evil creatures lying all around the truck. I feel my stomach turn as I realize it must be his or mine or even William's. Looking down at my own hands, I see they are coated in blood and gashes from the glass that I had to scramble through to get out of the cab of the truck.

My stomach lurches again and I feel him swinging me around swiftly. My face is pointed at the ground as I begin retching. He holds me away from him as the spasms rip through me again and again until I am too weak to move or hold my eyes open.