The bear opened his mouth and roared. Wade could see the bear’s giant, yellow teeth stained with blood. Wade’s hands continued to shake uncontrollably. Michael slid the door open again, yelling at the bear and throwing more rocks. The bear moved towards the side of the van as Paul pulled Michael back in so forcefully he almost dislocated Michael’s shoulder. Lucy slammed the door shut just as the bear slammed itself into the side of the van. The impact lifted two wheels off the ground. Everyone screamed in panic and Wade floored the accelerator.

The van bounced the teens around like rag dolls as Wade raced to get away from the monstrous killer. They screamed for Wade to slow down, but he was driving like a mad man, like a man possessed. He was possessed, with fear. Shear panic had grabbed Wade and wasn’t letting go. The van bounced around another sharp corner as it raced up the mountain. The rear tire slammed hard into a large boulder, throwing the van into an uncontrollable turn. The van raced off the road, slamming hard into a giant tree.

The impact threw Lucy so hard against the front seat that it punched her breath away, then instantly slammed her back into her own seat as the van crunched to a stop. The impossibly loud screams of terror and shattering glass shrieked in her ears as something heavy slammed into the back of her head, pushing her to the hard, metal floor. Complete silence followed except for the faint but steady hissing sound of steam escaping into the still, night air.

Lucy tried to get up but something heavy pinned her down. Was Lauren on top of her? Lucy’s mind, numb with fear and shock, struggled to form a single thought. It wasn’t Lauren on top of her, it was Lauren and Emma.

“Get off me,” Lucy exhaled as she awkwardly tried to push them away.

They didn’t move; their combined weight was too heavy.

“Get off me!” she pleaded in a shaky voice.

A claustrophobic feeling of being trapped raced through her aching body. With one last adrenaline-fueled push, she broke free of the web of tangled teens. She shook them violently.

“Wake up,” she tried to yell, but it sounded more like a whisper as a buzzing sound built in her ears.

She steadied herself and took a few slow, deep breaths to keep from passing out. She heard the girls make a soft moaning sound, so she crawled to the front of the van, first shaking Michael and then Paul. The hissing sound grew faint as the last of the steam was released from the crumbled radiator that hugged the giant tree.

Lucy’s eyes widened with terror when she looked at Wade. The windshield directly in front of Wade was shattered. It looked like a million tiny spider webs weaved and crawled away from a large, crimson rimmed hole. The top of Wade’s head disappeared into that hole. It only took a few seconds for Lucy’s still numb brain to put the pieces together. Wade’s head did not disappear into the hole; his head made that hole.

Panicked, she tried to pull Wade free from the tiny spider webs. The windshield released its grip on him with a wet, sucking sound as Wade’s head popped free. As he fell back into the driver’s seat, his head slumped to the right. His eyes, wide with shock and pain, looked directly at Lucy. His hair clung to his forehead, matted down with glistening red. Tiny speckles of glass dotted his bloodied face like glitter.

“Lu…cy?” Something liquid and gurgling roughened his voice.

Lucy felt another stab of panic. She mouthed his name but she could not squeeze out enough air to make an actual sound. Tears raced down her cheeks in a stream of sadness and fear.

“L-Lucy,” Wade repeated in a fragile voice.

Globs of blood gurgled over his quivering lips. Lucy took his hand and held it to her wet cheek. His eyes looked glassy; unfocused. She choked out a pathetic sound that resembled his name, but her tears were too strong, her breath too weak, for any coherent language.

She gently squeezed his hand. He did not squeeze back. As the rest of the teens groaned painfully back into consciousness, Lucy was kneeling quietly by Wade’s seat, still holding his hand to her tear-soaked cheek.

“Wade!” Paul yelled, panicked, scrambling towards his friend when he saw his blood-soaked face.

“Wake up! Wake up, buddy!” he tried to shake him awake but Wade did not move.

“He’s…he’s gone,” Lucy sobbed, still kneeling on the floor holding Wade’s hand.

Paul shook him again and yelled, “Fuck!”

Lauren let out a piercing scream. Emma threw up.

Michael wiped a tear away with the back of his hand and slid the door open. “C’mon,” he told them. “We gotta go.”

“Go? Go where?” Paul yelled. “We’re not going anywhere without Wade. We can’t leave him here. We can’t leave him like…like this!”

Michael grabbed Paul by the arm. “Paul, listen to me. That bear will be here any minute. Those zombie things are on their way. We have to go. Now!”

“Not without Wade,” Paul yelled as he jerked his arm from Michael’s grip and started dragging Wade out of the van. “We can’t leave him here for… for them! He’s not a piece of meat!”

Michael laid his hand gently on Paul’s shoulder and in soft, gentle voice whispered, “He was my friend too.”

Paul stared blankly at Michael.

“We’ll close up the van,” Michael told him, “so nothing can get in. When we get the guns and get help, we’ll come back for him.”

Michael’s voice deepened as it took on a more commanding tone. “But right now Paul, we need to man-the-fuck-up and get the hell out of here.”

Paul didn’t say a word as he inhaled deeply and stared at Michael. A few deep breaths later, Paul nodded and set Wade back into the driver’s seat as gently as if placing a baby in a car seat, then stepped out of the van to join his friends. He slammed the door shut, scanning the faces of his companions. Michael had watery eyes, the girls were still crying.

Paul took a slow and deliberate breath then said in a dry, matter-of-fact voice, “ Ok, boys and girls, let’s get this walking feast moving.”

A loud crack echoed in the still night. The girls screamed and an instant later, the rain came. It pounded the group, drenching them instantly.

Paul looked skyward and yelled, “Can you please give us a fuckin’ break?”

CHAPTER 8 – Strangers

“Good evening, this is Clay Buffer with the Atlantic Television Network’s 6 o’clock evening news. Tonight’s top story: A series of bizarre murders in the tiny village of Margaree Valley has authorities baffled. Chief Brian Dunn of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police refused to make a formal statement pending further investigation. Sources close to the Chief claim the RCMP have blocked all roads going in and out of Margaree Valley, and they are working around the clock on the tragedies that have besieged the isolated community since early this morning. Field reporter, Jess Jessup has the story.”

“Thank you, Clay. We have just received reports that members of the CDC have been flown in from Atlanta, Georgia, along with members of the American National Guard to assist the RCMP and the Canadian Armed Forces as they quarantine the area. Some startling new evidence has led officials to believe that some type of virus has infected the residents, causing them to attack their neighbors, friends and families.”

“Did you say a virus is causing people to attack their own families?”

“That’s correct, Clay, a virus.”

“Is this virus creating some form of a delusional psychosis that causes the infected victims to lash out against their family and friends?”

“At this time, the CDC is not releasing any information. No discernible motive has been established as of yet, but sources have suggested the murders are horrific and beyond anything they have seen.”

She paused as a man in a suit handed her a piece of paper. Jess read the note then continued: