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As they leave the compound, they can already see the town in the distance. The fog still hangs around it, clinging to the buildings. Even as a cold wind tosses leaves into the air and blows Astrid’s hair around, the fog continues to move in that slow, random, supernatural manner, apparently undisturbed by the moving air.
While making a beeline across the open fields would be the fastest way to High Rock, it would also leave them exposed to an attack by one of those massive birds that roam the sky, which someone dubbed grippers. A fitting name, considering they swoop down from the sky and grab their prey.
Instead, the group decides to take the road that runs along the edge of the forest. Should a gripper or something similar appear, they could run into the shadow of the trees for cover, and if something attacks them from the forest, they can run out into the open.
Their horses trot along the road, while behind them the tractor roars, making almost as much noise as a jackhammer.
Fynn points down the road. “Let's ride ahead and make sure the road is clear.” He doesn't wait for an answer and spurs Shiva into a gallop, immediately followed by the Sheriff and Poldi.
Astrid barely needs to tap her legs against Ranger's body to make him follow suit.
They gallop over the road until the sound of cracking twigs surprises them from within the forest. It’s so loud that they can hear it over the clopping of hooves against the asphalt. The three riders simultaneously rein in their horses and stop.
“What is that?” Astrid asks. She squints and sees a large shape move between the trees, but the young trees and bushes growing next to the road prevent her from actually seeing the creature. Astrid expects the others to go for their weapons, but Fynn only turns his horse and gets ready to bolt in case the creature turns out to be hostile, while the Sheriff waits and watches the thick tree line.
More twigs snap beneath heavy feet.
Astrid sees a light red glow from between the leaves before a massive head slowly emerges. It’s covered in bone armor and has a small, pointed mouth made from bone that looks a bit like a beak. Protruding from the back of its head are four triangular horns.
The creature doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested in them as it stomps out of the forest. Four relatively short legs carry a long, slightly oval body covered in knobbed bone armor. The body ends with a long tail tipped in a bone club covered in more small knobs.
It places an armored foot on the road, cracking the asphalt. With booming steps, it crosses the road and begins grazing on the meadow, while part of its body remains on the bitumen. Including the tail, the creature is about as long as two cars and as tall as two humans.
They all stare as it devours a bush whole.
Fynn whispers, “God. That thing must weigh almost ten tons… It looks almost like… an ankylosaur.” With his mouth open, he watches it close its beak over a whole patch of grass. “How is this possible?”
The Sheriff doesn’t bother to whisper: “A what?”
“A dinosaur. It looks almost like a dinosaur. I can’t believe it.”
The Sheriff just shrugs. “It seems harmless… Okay, maybe not harmless, but not out to kill us. Let's go tell the others something’s blocking the road.”
While she turns her horse and starts to ride back, Astrid looks at Fynn and says, “Are you serious? I’ve been transformed into an elf and your father is a cross between a dwarf and a teddy bear, but it's something that looks like a dinosaur that takes your breath away?”
“Those are the things that made me wake up this morning, convinced that yesterday was a dream. This is something that takes my breath away because I've been a fan of dinosaurs since I was small. Seeing one in person, or at least something that kind of looks like one is… Well, let's just say it makes up for the fact that my laptop is deep-fried. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m actually looking forward to finding out what other creatures this event created.”
As Fynn talks, they both turn their horses to trot after the Sheriff.
With a smile, Astrid replies, “And now this all turns out to be a very intricate dream and your mother is about to throw you out of bed.”
Fynn smiles back. “If this is a dream, I have to say I'm impressed with my brain's imagination and attention to detail. The moment I wake up, I'm writing all this down.”
It doesn’t take them long to get back to the rest of the group. As he sees them approach, Fynn’s father stops and turns off the engine.
“What's going on?” he asks. “Is something wrong?”
“An ankylosaur is blocking the road,” Fynn informs him, before the Sheriff can say a word.
“A what?”
They ride up to the tractor and turn their horses. The Sheriff explains, “It's a big, living tank of bone. Not hostile, but big and probably very dangerous if we anger it.”
Mr. Rot nods and says, “So that’s where that thing went... Okay, we'll drive over the field.”
The three riders once again gallop ahead, while the tractor rolls onto the grass.
The ankylosaur is still in the same spot, munching grass. Just like they left it.
As the tractor makes a wide arc around it, the animal looks up. Its small, black eyes follow the loud machine.
Astrid, Fynn and the Sheriff watch from the road as the tractor slowly drives around it. Everyone tenses as the creature moves its front leg. It turns, to keep both eyes on the tractor, then without warning slams its tail on the ground. It cracks the asphalt with a loud boom. The message is clear as crystal: Come closer and I’ll crush you like bugs.
Astrid expects the creature to rush the tractor, but it doesn't. It just continues to stare at them until they get back on the road. The moment the tractor heads away from it, the ankylosaur puts its head back down and continues eating.
As they continue down their journey, Astrid turns her head to look back at the grazing ankylosaur. “Did you see what that tail did to the road? I don’t even want to know what it would do to a person.”
“Thank God that thing isn’t aggressive,” Fynn agrees.
As Fynn’s father passes them, he yells, “That thing was actually once one of our cows. I think. It busted down our barn and killed several other animals.”
The town comes into view once more.
The buildings are shrouded in the dark gray fog. It is nowhere near as thick as the fog that appeared during the event, but it still obstructs their vision.
It seems to roll and waft in every direction, apparently unaffected by both wind and gravity.
The dark mist stretches outwards towards the city limits as though it’s trying to spread into the surrounding area but dissipates as soon as it clears the buildings. No animal, not even a single bug flies through the air here. The bushes and trees in the fog have lost their leaves and turned black.
Behind the group are beautiful meadows covered in hundreds of different plants, old and new. In front of them, there is only dark, desecrated earth covered in the black remains of dead life. The sounds of birds and insects give way to a silence broken only by the horse's hooves and the tractor behind them.
“Let's check the street. Make sure nothing's there,” Fynn whispers, as though the fog itself is listening.
For all they know, it might be.
As they get closer to the buildings, wafts of fog begin to move along the ground. They creep between the horses’ legs, almost as though they are attracted to the living flesh.
The animals seem uneasy. Ranger slows his steps and moves his head around. His eyes are wide; he looks behind him and to his sides, as though checking on the other horses. Astrid can feel his breathing get faster as the fog slowly envelops them.
A chill runs down her spine. She shivers. The mist looks thicker from within. It might be her imagination, but the air feels cold and her skin tingles like there are a million tiny ants crawling over it.
The silence is unnatural. The only noise is the tractor in the distance and the wind quietly blowing between the buildings, but even those sounds seem dulled and distant.
Something tells Astrid that the houses around them are graves. That no one who spent a night in this darkness is still alive. Some sort of instinct seems to trigger within her a deep, primal sense of fear. Almost as though something inside her knows that nothing but death awaits them here.
Meanwhile, the fog seems to thicken around them. While they could easily see down the entire road when they were outside the cloud, it now obscures the end of the road with swirling darkness.
“I…” Astrid stammers. Fear grips her. Her eyes flick to the Sheriff, to see that she’s turned as white as snow. The other elf’s gaze is fixed on a point somewhere in the fog. Her hands shake. As do Astrid’s.
Neither resist as their horses rip the reins out of their hands and turn around.
Fynn sees his two companions turn. He has to look twice to believe what he’s seeing. “What…? What are you two doing?”
His own horse, seeing its friends turn, tries to follow, but Fynn has other plans. He holds the reins tight to keep her from turning. Shiva ignores his commands and stumbles after Ranger.
“Something is wrong here,” Astrid whispers. “I can feel it. This place is not for the living.”
“What the hell? We're supposed to get medicine so my mother… so that people don’t start dying—” Fynn is cut off by Shiva, who suddenly rears up. To stop himself from flying off her back, he’s forced to grab her mane and release her reins.
She immediately gallops forward as fast as she can. Ranger follows at full speed. It's not until they leave the cloud that the horses slow down.
Astrid swears she can feel Ranger’s pounding heart over her own.
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As the three come galloping out of the fog, those on the tractor are about to enter.
“What's going on?” Fynn’s father yells over the roaring engine.
Fynn struggles against Shiva. “These dumb horses refuse to stay in the fog!” he yells, trying to turn Shiva back towards the cloud. The horse twists her neck as he pulls on the reins, but refuses to turn.
“We should head back,” Astrid says. “This place is cursed. I can feel it.”
Fynn’s father twitches his eyebrow again, but it is the Sheriff that speaks. “The horses refuse to go in there, but if we don't get that medicine, people at the farm are going to die. We promised we would get it, so we will. I’ll come on the tractor.” She still looks deathly pale and her eyes are wide as she dismounts Poldi and jumps onto the tractor.
Mr. Rot takes a look at the fog, then at Astrid. He scans her face and sees the fear in her eyes. “We’re not leaving the horses on their own. You two.” He points at his son and then at Astrid. “Check out that house over there while we take the tractor into the fog.” As he speaks, he points at a house removed from the rest of the town. It's far enough away to not be touched by the black mist.
“We can just—” Fynn starts, but his father cuts him off.
“We're not leaving the horses. Do as I say.” Without waiting for more protest from his son, he makes Lukas accelerate the tractor.
Fynn looks like he wants to say something, but stays quiet and watches the vehicle lurch forward.
Astrid doesn't need another excuse not to go back into the cloud. She squeezes her thighs against Ranger’s flanks.
The horse shudders and jerks his head up, but relaxes as soon as he realizes that Astrid isn’t trying to make him go back to the fog. He exhales and walks towards the house.
Fynn makes an angry grunt as he ties the reins of the Sheriff's horse to his own and makes both follow Ranger.
Astrid looks back to see the tractor drive into the cloud. She expects the fog to envelop them like she's sure it did to her. Nothing changes though. The large red machine calmly drives down the narrow road.
Angry, Fynn turns to Astrid, “What the hell was that? If you hadn't let Ranger turn around, Shiva wouldn't have panicked.”
Astrid feels fury flare up as she replies, “I was almost paralyzed by fear and I still think it's a horrible idea to go into that stuff.” To herself, she thinks, ‘Great, where was that temper ten minutes ago when I almost lost it because of a little fog?’
“Great, and here I thought your size indicated bravery. What were you before you turned into an elf, a three-year-old?”
Astrid glares at him. “I think the horses have excellent judgment. If you'd watched any horror movie ever, you'd know that walking into a dark, magical fog that causes animals to go batshit crazy with fear is a bad idea.”
“I also think it's a bad idea to let several people die because I'm scared of a bit of magical mist. Besides, you volunteered for this, didn't you?”
Astrid doesn’t reply. She just loosens her reins and takes Ranger into a trot.
Fynn snorts and shakes his head.
Astrid reaches the house first. “Why is the door open?” she wonders out loud.
“What, scared of an open door as well?” Fynn sneers.
With a glare, Astrid pushes past him and, aiming down the sights of her revolver, she enters the building.
The first thing that hits her is the faint but distinct smell of rot. A pungent odor with just a hint of sickening sweetness.
Slowly, carefully, Astrid walks into the dimly lit space beyond the entrance. She jumps around a corner and aims her gun down an empty hallway. To her right, a door stands slightly ajar and allows sunlight to leak into the dark room they're in right now.
The wooden floorboards give off a quiet creak as Astrid walks towards the door and waves for Fynn to follow her. He enters the house, rifle in hand. His heavy boots create a quiet thud every time they connect with the floor.
Astrid glances back and gets a short, closer look at his weapon for the first time. She sees that it not only has two barrels but two triggers as well. Fynn’s finger rests on the back one as he aims down the hallway.
With one hand on the door knob and one aiming her revolver, Astrid pushes the living room door open.
They are met by a wall of light, shining through large windows onto stylish modern furniture and the corpse of a man. His head is split open and his skin has turned completely white, save for several green and blue spots. The first signs of decomposition.
Behind her Fynn gags. “Well, that takes care of my appetite,” he tries to joke, but the fact that he whispers and has turned a bit pale betrays that he's more than just disgusted.
Astrid shudders and tears her eyes away from the gruesome sight. “Let's check the kitchen. No point in letting his food rot… too.”
“Seriously? How can you think about food right now?” Fynn asks her, his gaze still fixed on the corpse.
“I’m starving. While I search the kitchen, why don’t you try to help this guy? I'm sure a bit of CPR is going to get him right back on his feet.”
He pulls his gaze away from the dead man to glare at Astrid. “You don’t have to be so sarcastic. Someone died here. I think a bit of respect is in order.”
Astrid shakes her head, turns away, and walks out of the living room.
Luckily, the door to the kitchen is closed, meaning the putrid smell of death hasn't penetrated the room too much. At least not enough to discourage Astrid's stomach. It hasn't left her alone all day and now that she's surrounded by a kitchen filled with food, it demands to be filled.
She pulls open the cupboards to search for a plate. She feels a bit weird, rummaging through someone else's kitchen. It doesn’t bother her enough to make her stop though. To her delight, the fridge is filled to the brim.
While Astrid stuffs herself in the kitchen, Fynn searches the rest of the house. The corpse in the living room might very well be the man who infected his mother, and with any luck, he might find something – anything – that can help the doctor save her.
With his gun at the ready, he heads upstairs.
The first thing he hears is someone whimpering. He considers calling Astrid but he knows yelling might scare the person in the other room. Or warn them.
A few more quiet steps put him right in front of the door the whimpering is coming from. The finger on the back trigger is ready to unleash a shotgun blast from his weapon’s upper barrel.
He pushes open the door to reveal a small bedroom. The blinds are almost closed, but the few rays of sunlight that make it through keep the dark at bay. The air is thick with a slightly moldy, sweet smell. A neither revolting, nor agreeable scent that fills a sick person’s room.
Fynn slows his breathing and only takes shallow breaths as he scans the room over the barrel of his weapon. He hears a rustle to his left. A quiver rushes through his body and he snaps the weapon onto the source of the sound. It came from a bed on the left side of the room. Sheets move to reveal the face of a girl, no older than sixteen.
Her eyes widen as she stares down the weapon’s two barrels. A scream tries to form, but her voice is too weak. It's barely a whisper, but still shrill as she asks, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Fynn instantly lowers his gun but doesn’t remove his finger from the trigger. “I’m Fynn. Don't worry, we’re here to help. What happened?”
The girl does her best to sit upright, revealing the bite mark on her shoulder. Her voice is barely a whisper as she says, “My father, he attacked me and bit me in the shoulder. I felt myself get weaker and weaker until I fell unconscious. Then I woke up here feeling like shit. Where is that ass anyway?”
“He's… dead.”
The girl doesn't reply. She just sits there, staring at Fynn, her expression blank.
Downstairs, Astrid continues plundering the fridge. Unlike a few days ago, when she would have resisted the urge to pour pudding down her throat, today she indulges. Before the fog, her biggest concern in that regard had been to keep the calories away and the fat off her thighs. Back then her conscience would have stepped in when she thought about eating too much chocolate. Now it does the exact opposite. Her primary goal is no longer just getting full, but gathering as many of those calories as possible. She's all the more annoyed when Fynn calls out her name.
“What is it?!” she yells back.
“I've found someone, but she's too weak to walk. Help me.”
Astrid rolls her eyes and groans. She drops the salami she was eating and goes to help Fynn. At the door, she pauses for a moment. She considers closing the refrigerator and cupboard but dismisses it with half a thought. ‘After all, there is no power and no one to care.’
As soon as Astrid sees the girl, she spots the infected bite mark on her shoulder. “She's infected.”
“Yes. Help me get her outside.”
Astrid hesitates for a moment before she slowly comes closer. She feels uneasy as she slings the girl's arm over her shoulder, but does it anyway.
‘Let's hope the doctor is right about this disease not being airborne,’ she thinks as they carry the weak girl outside.
Fynn props her up on Poldi, then mounts his own horse and begins riding towards the road.
“Shouldn't we wait inside?” Astrid asks Fynn.
“The others ought to be done by now,” he yells over his shoulder.
Astrid quickly mounts Ranger and rides after the two.
A distant bang splits the silence from within the fog, causing them to stop. The gunshot is followed by deathly silence.
“What was that?” the girl croaks from Poldi’s back.
Fynn squints into the fog. “Very bad news,” he whispers.
Another gunshot splits the air, quickly followed by a third.
They spur their horses and race to the road leading into the town, but stop right outside the gray mass.
Astrid jumps off Ranger as another gunshot sounds from within the dark mist, this time closer. Then the town turns silent once more.
They listen for more shots or the roaring of the tractor, but only the quiet drone of the wind blowing between the buildings and the heavy breathing of the girl behind them greets their ears. The quiet is even worse than the gunshots. While it meant the rest of the expedition was in trouble, at least shooting meant they were still alive.
Astrid takes a few more steps forward. For a moment, she considers running into the fog to find them. Even though she barely knows them, the thought that they might all be dead fills her with dread.
Her feet take her another step forward. She wants to burst into a sprint, run to the others and help them with whatever has ambushed them in the toxic fog. However, the thought of entering the deadly mist triggers the same instinct as before. Her insides feel like they’re being tied together as it fills her with fear. Fear of the deadly darkness and whatever might be waiting within it.
Her feet freeze in place. ‘Running in after them is futile. My instincts were right. That place is for the dead. The dead and those who wish to join them.’
She doesn’t notice Fynn next to her until he screams, “Dad!? Are you there? Anyone?!”
His voice echoes through the street, but no one replies. There is only silence.
Astrid knows what he wants to do. She knows he’s thinking the same thing she did. She doesn’t know whether the instinctual knowledge that the black fog must be feared is something unique to otherworldly creatures such as herself, or if Fynn is simply ignoring the dread filling his body. Perhaps he’s stronger in that way.
As he tries to sprint into the fog, she hugs him from behind. A few days ago, a man like him would have easily torn himself from her grasp, but now her embrace is like a vice.
“Let me go! I’m going after them. Stay here if you’re scared.”
She does not release him. “I’m not going back alone,” she whispers in his ear, but he doesn’t stop struggling.
Astrid grunts as he rams his elbow into her gut, but doesn't even loosen her grip.
Another gunshot splits the silence. This time even closer.
Hearing the sound, Astrid’s grip relaxes and Fynn stumbles forward. He quickly regains his balance, takes one more angry look at her, then sprints into the fog. She watches him, as he turns a corner and disappears in the darkness.
“What’s happening in there?” the sick girl asks again.
Astrid turns to face her. “Our group went into the fog and now something… There must be something in the fog that’s attacking them.” She turns back towards the town. The dark street is still abandoned. She doesn’t believe that anyone is going to come back. Still, she stands there, staring into the swirling clouds. Alone, save for the sick girl she doesn’t know.
Suddenly the roar of the tractor pierces the fog like a bullet of hope.
A moment later, the machine drives around the corner at full speed, Lukas sitting alone in the driver's seat and the others holding on for dear life. Astrid pulls her revolver out of its holster and aims into the fog, ready to shoot whatever creature might be chasing them.
Following them are a few human figures. Astrid immediately lowers her gun, thinking that they must have found more of the townspeople alive. But they are not the silhouettes of people running through the mist.
Lukas yells, “Get on the horse! Quick!”
The tractor roars past her as she struggles to climb onto Ranger.
Once she's in the saddle, her head turns for a quick look into the cloud behind her. The figures she could barely make out before have come closer and the sight of them sends a shiver down her spine. They are transparent, as though their bodies are made from the fog that surrounds them. They glide silently over the ground, their ghostly limbs outstretched, reaching for the people running away from them. Behind the dark phantoms is another, taller figure, but a single look tells Astrid all she needs to know.
She spurs Ranger and yells, “Ranger, go! Shiva, Poldi come!”
Ranger takes off like a rocket. Shiva and Poldi follow so quickly that the girl on Poldi’s back barely manages to hold on.
They gallop after the speeding tractor. Unlike before, Lukas is driving the old machine at full speed, and even at full gallop, the horses have trouble catching up to it.
Astrid can’t help herself and takes another look back. The figures are gone, leaving the fog as the same dark void it was before.
They don’t dare slow down until the town is out of sight.
Even though Astrid didn’t run herself, she is still out of breath. Her eyes move over the tractor to make sure everyone is still there. The Sheriff looks as white as a corpse. Noah is leaning against the side of the trailer. There’s now a vaguely hand-shaped patch of gray fur on the side of his head. Fynn is there too, but his father is not.
Astrid trots Ranger next to the vehicle. Over the roaring engine, she yells, “What happened? Where’s Mr. Rot?”
Noah’s quiet reply is barely audible over the loud machine. “We should never have gone in there. It’s not just fog. There are ghosts in there. They got Mr. Rot. Our shots passed right through them, but their touch burned like fire.”
While Lukas struggles to drive the old machine on his own, Fynn looks ahead with an empty stare. His chest is filled with a whirlpool of anger and sadness. ‘He went in there to save Mom… and now he’s gone.’ The whirlpool turns into numbness, like he’s in a drunken stupor. The thought that his father's spirit might even join these ghosts is even worse than the grief from his death. Fynn wants to be angry at Astrid, but he knows she’s the only reason his mother will at least still have him.
After a few moments of staring forward, he shakes his head in an attempt to get past the numbness. It partially works and he musters the energy to stand back up. ‘Too bad they didn’t at the very least get the medicine. Then his death wouldn’t have been for nothing.’
Fynn braces himself for the days to come.
Anyone who needs some sort of medicine to live is going to die in the next few weeks.