Brought Down

15. Slime

Julian

I back away from the door. My sight now fully adjusted to the semi-darkness, I can distinguish that the floor and the walls are covered with moist, slippery, whitish substance. The look of it makes me shudder. I have seen pictures of this—creature? thing? whatever is its proper name—but not in such quantities.

One of the bizarre members of the new fauna, this slime mass usually lives inside old pipes, covering their surface, waiting for its prey, constituted mainly by cockroaches. Once insects crawl upon it, they get stuck in the glue-like substance, and the slime slowly engulfs them. Then, it basically dissolves them.

It's not supposed to be dangerous to humans.

On the other hand, it's not supposed to fill whole freaking parking lots.

It's everywhere, even on the ceiling, hanging down like stalactites. I look in disgust at the whitish waves slowly rolling down the walls. The movement is so gradual it's hard to notice. A brainless but purposeful predator looking for a prey.

I better get out of here.

Once I try to walk, I realize there's slime on my boots. I raise one foot until the slime unglues itself and lands on the ground with a wet plop sound. I step on it in, disgusted. When I try to raise my foot again, it sticks to the sole of my shoe, and it takes some effort to shake it off. I take a step, land into another slime-covered area, and concentrate on freeing my other foot for the next step. While I do it, the slime begins to crawl up my boot that's on the floor.

A purposeful bastard.

I grind my teeth and concentrate on moving forward. The slime is sticky and it slows me down, but I eventually get to the center of the parking lot.

I pause to look for another exit. I can distinguish the opposite wall from here, but there's no doors there. The parking lot is long and narrow, and the exit must be somewhere out of my sight. I look right, then left. The rusty cars carcasses stretch in each direction, eventually disappearing in the dark. I will have to try and go the length of the parking lot in one direction, or the other, in search for an exit.

My shoes are covered with slime again. There's more of it now, and it seems to be even stickier than before. I attempt to take a step, but it feels like trying to raise a large carpet attached to your shoes. I shake my foot fiercely, but the slime is still attached to it. The white waves on the floor seem to be aiming in my direction. Can different pools of slime communicate with each other? Are they actually aware I'm here? Are they all a part of one creature?

I wish I paid more attention at my biology classes.

I try to step with one foot on the slime attached to the other, but since both boots are already covered, it's useless, and in the end only makes me lose my balance. I sway, then steady myself on the car next to me. I pause. That was close. If I fell, my hands would be glued, maybe my knees too, and then...what? Would I be able to get up? And what would happen if not?

With my heart hammering faster and faster, I renew my efforts to free myself. The slime if climbing up, and now it's reached the top of my boots, and my bare ankles. I gasp at the repulsive feeling of the cold, slippery substance on my skin. It tingles a little. Doesn't hurt yet, but if enough of it remains on the skin for enough time...

I mean, it does dissolve cockroaches.

Perhaps it could dissolve other things, too.

Only slower.

"Garrett!" I shout at the top of my lungs. The worst thing I could do now is panic, but I can't suppress it anymore. "Garrett! Come back!"

Only he won't come back. He's brought me here. He meant for this to happen. He'd saved my life once, and my gratitude was to steal his gun and take him hostage. There won't be any second chances.

"Garrett!" I grab the roof of the car with both hands and try to pull myself up onto it. Almost immediately, the rusty metal breaks and crumbles under my fingers. A whole part of the car, including one of the front doors, detaches itself from the rest of the carcass and drops to the floor, and I go down with it.

I end up on my knees, and the slime begins readily to work its way up my thighs. My right palm is trapped, too. I pull it in different directions, but it's like fighting a jelly that has suddenly grown out of your hand. I can't shake it off. I moan in shock. This can't be happening. This thing is brainless. I'm so much more than it is, I'm a higher creature, and yet it brings me down as if I were a mere insect.

"No," I shout. "Garrett! Please! Come back!"

He won't come back. I gave him every reason to hate me. He's gone.

I'm not even sure what I'm shouting anymore. The slime gets hold of my second hand, then it's on my jacket and underneath it, pulling me down with its weight, inviting me to lie down and let go. I keep fighting, but it's useless. It's on my neck, in my hair. At some point, my field of vision shifts, and I find myself lying on my side, fighting against the sticky, slippery cocoon engulfing me.

It's reached my face. That brings out the final burst of panic, and I struggle with renewed desperation. The jelly covers my eyes, then my mouth and nose. Then, it suddenly feels as if I'm being dragged somewhere, but I can't see or hear anything anymore. I keep struggling against the slime cocoon, against this dragging motion, against this whole horrible and unfair ending, as I scream out the remainders of my air.

I'm still screaming when someone begins to cut the jelly off my face.

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