Capítulo 6: Chapter 6: The Blob, Part 2
Carmella knew that the Blob was aware she'd seen it. They could move fast, but she was closer to the house. She dropped the milk pail and darted across the yard with her heart thumping in her chest, afraid that it would be right at her heals with tentacles reaching for her neck. She bounded up the stairs and with a squeak she slammed the door and secured the locks.
Locks? What good were they when there were windows all throughout the house? She grabbed one of the rifles. She kept one loaded beside each door in case something chased her into her house. She was breathing hard when she eased toward the front window and moved the curtain back to look into her yard. She was sure the thing had followed her up onto her porch, but her porch was empty. She tried to see through the trees edging her yard but couldn't make out the form of the Blob. She shook her head. Could she have imagined it? No. She might one day lose her mind from solitude, but she wasn't there yet. She'd seen it standing behind the big tree.
How she wished for Wolf because she couldn't stand the idea that there was nothing but her and it. Carmella gnawed her bottom lip, not feeling the skin crack and not recognizing the salty taste of her blood. She hurried to the kitchen, checked the windows, and made sure the door was locked. Then she grabbed cartridges for the rifle.
She was not going to be a prisoner in her own house. And if that thing wasn't after her, it meant it was going off to rat out her location. She had to go after it and kill it before it could get to one of the signposts.
Despite her decision to do this, she didn't feel fearless and brave. She was terrified. But long ago she'd had to face unpleasant things because there was no one else she could call on to fight her battles for her. She had no one else to turn to. She'd had to enter darkened stores and face the corpses of the long dead.
And she had survived until now.
Before she could lose her nerve, she pulled back the front door and stood in the entrance scanning the yard. She knew where the nearest signpost was located in the middle of a field several miles away.
Her eyes tried to take in everything at once as she hurried to her motorcycle. She had long since replaced the one she had when she was with Maggie. This was a comfortable, well-used Harley, and while there were probably bikes better suited for her, the Harley was what she wanted.
With her rifle strapped across her back, she threw her leg over the bike and heard the unmistakable sound of shuffling. Instinct told her to duck, even if it meant that she and the bike would hit the ground—and she did.
But so did the monstrous Blob.
It was on her, its elongated tentacles circling one leg while she was trapped beneath the heavy motorcycle. With a scream she scrambled back and kicked with all of her might.
It was disgusting the way her foot sank into its flesh. It was almost like kicking Silly Putty with a tough yet pliable outer skin. If she hurt it she couldn't tell. Its tentacles kept reaching. Its mottled skin and black disc like eyes that appeared beneath its translucent skin revolted her.
She kicked and scrambled as several more tentacles appeared, all grabbing for her.
"Stop."
She heard its distinct command-request—she didn't care which. She had heard them speak on television broadcasts and later when they gathered the humans for transport to Earth 2. They spoke with voices that reminded her of synthesized sounds. Since they had no need of voice boxes, they communicated through a complex system of sensors. They recognized the modality of their explanation, but it was so far removed from how humans interacted that it always sounded vague.
Blobs had no skeleton, vocal cords, or ears and yet they could speak and hear.
They also had stingers.
They tried to explain that the stingers were their natural defense, like a human forming a fist. But Carmella didn't buy that. She knew their stingers carried poison that could kill. Blobs said they didn't kill with them. "It renders the victim immobile," they said, but that was another lie …
The Blob's stinger appeared, and Carmella knew this moment would mark the end of her life. The Harley had impaired its movements, but now both of them had cleared it. She remembered the rifle strapped to her back, and with a fluid motion that would have impressed Clint Eastwood, she pulled it forward and fired pointblank into the "face" of the beast.
The Blob made an ungodly sound and recoiled into a ball the same time she saw the bullet exit the Blob in a spray of brackish dark fluid. All of its sensor tentacles drew back into the mass of its body.
Carmella scrambled to her feet and barely registered the quivering mass as she turned to run. But then she stopped. She had to end this …
She turned in time to see it slithering away, this time leaving a trail of that disgusting dark fluid in its wake. Swallowing back her disgust, Carmella shot again and again with the rapid-fire rifle.
The Blob emanated a distressed sound before curling into a tighter ball and remaining motionless.
Carmella backed away, panting and shaking until she almost tripped on the porch stairs. Was it dead? She was afraid to take her eyes from it, but she had fired at it about eight times and it didn't flinch. Her eyes darted to the barn. Kerosene!
She stared at the unmoving Blob and darted to the barn, giving the Blob a wide berth. Her mind pictured it reaching out with its stinger for her, but it didn't move. Adrenaline caused her to sprint the distance without tiring. She grabbed two partially full kerosene lamps and ran back to her farmhouse. A stitch had begun to build in her side, but she didn't slow. Her eyes scanned the yard, but even before she reached the farmhouse she saw that it was empty.
The Blob was gone.
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