Island Of The Cryptids

17

"What if it comes back?" asked Misty. Her voice was trembling and nervous. The rainwater now engulfed the entire floor, and it was about an inch deep. The three people sloshed around, avoiding twigs and dead rats.

"It won't come back as long as we don't bring attention to ourselves," Carlin said. "For all we know it could be right outside that door, waiting for us to make a move."

"Oh god..." Jake whimpered.

"Can your bullshit," said Carlin. "Right now we just need to not panic and wait this thing out. Sooner or later this storm is gonna pass, the sun is gonna rise, the rest of the group will come looking for us. Then we can get on the plane, and get the fuck out of here."

"Aren't you worried at all?" Misty cried. Carlin eyed her with an intense face. His stubble seemed to have grown in the time that they were trapped in the room. Then again, Jake's face also appeared to have sunken into his skull, as purple bags were forming under his eyes, and his cheeks were wrinkling.

"Worst comes to worst, there's some flares in the box over there," Jake said, pointing to the box that he had found the books in, which was now two inches deep in water.

"I guess if we have to signal our way off this island, we'll do it that way."

"What about that thing?" Misty said, her voice tinged with anxiety.

"Would you forget about that thing already?" Carlin snapped. "I don't need you to be worrying about that thing right now, we have bigger problems on our hands, such as getting the fuck out of this room!"

Misty shut up. Jake placed his head in his hands and sighed.

Light came from down the road. A blinding wave of white light blasted through the window holes, reflecting off the water that cascaded in waterfalls from the roof. Carlin squinted to see what it was.

"Is that the co-pilot?" Jake asked as a vehicle rolled into the edge of the clearing that the building sat. It slowed to a crawl, almost as if the person in the car was scanning to see if anybody was inside. Carlin moved towards the window, his legs getting drenched in the waterfall. The car seemed to acknowledge his presence and moved closer.

"Damn, that's Tucker," Carlin said. "That thing is still out there and it's gonna see that car lit up like a goddamn beacon."

Jake quickly came to Carlin's side and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"TUCKER TURN THE LIGHTS OFF!" he screamed, his voice cracking.

"TURN THEM OFF AND STOP THE CAR!" Carlin yelled.

"TURN THE LIGHTS OFF!"

The car slowed to a crawl again in the middle of the clearing. The lights still blared.

"TURN THE LIGHTS OFF, GODDAMN IT!"

The car door opened, and Tucker stepped out, with one foot inside the car. He was about forty feet away. He looked out at them.

"What were you saying?" he yelled.

"TURN THE FUCKING LIGHTS OFF!"

From behind the car, a shadow emerged, thundering extremely fast. The silhouettes of teeth could be seen hanging from the thing's massive jaws as it ran forward, long, feathery arms extended and slammed into the back of the Explorer.

The car rocketed forward, and nosedived into mud. Tucker was blown off his feet, and felt his leg break with a painful crack. He wailed in agony, being thrust forward into the car, slamming his ribs on the steering wheel. Glass showered into the car, tiny fragments bouncing off the windshield.