Things Slip Through
The sickening smell of burning meat filled the air and the thing rolled and kicked and scrambled its way off the tailgate.
Jarred lay there, frozen. He wanted to cower and hide, but a trembling kind of courage drove him forward, out of the truck’s bed, baseball bat held before him.
As he shakily stepped down onto pavement, the thing stopped flailing and crouched on all fours, glaring at him, growling. The bat had dug a wet, seeping trench in the thing’s right temple, above the eye, exposing rotten, blackened viscera and a strip of gleaming white skull.
Hot Chapters