Charlie ran as fast as his legs would carry him. He heard the heavy breathing of two of his comrades behind him as he sprinted towards a barn and grain silo of the Wilson farm.

  Mr. Wilson had been opposed to doing anything against Laura, choosing to adopt a live and let live philosophy for the sake of his family and because he kind of liked Laura and the good job she had always done.

  In retrospect, Charlie realized it probably would have been the better way to go; but hindsight was always 20/20.

  He saw one of the Wilson children, probably the five year old, peek out from one of the curtained windows. She shook her head prophetically and let the shade drop back into place.

  Charlie hit the door of the barn and frantically pulled at the large wooden handle. It creaked open on rusted hinges and he watched his friend Bill rush into the growing crack. He quickly followed and they both grabbed the opposite side to close it. The door crashed shut, Bill found a number of rakes and shovels that they used to barricade and lock the door with. Charlie took a sigh of relief that was quickly interrupted by a sudden banging. The sweat jumped from his forehead and as he shook at the violent noise.

  "Let me in! For god's sake! Let me in!"

  Charlie's eyes went wide, filled with the debilitating fear of paranoia.

  "Who the fuck is that?"

  Bill, who was on his hands and knees, looked up and whispered back.

  "I think it's Mr. Jones. He was behind me runnin' with us."

  There was another loud bang and the doors buckled, sunlight filtering through the cracks as dust rained down from it's filthy surface. Charlie tip-toed over to one of the thick windows. It was difficult to see past the muck encrusted glass as he peered through. A dark shape suddenly lurched in front of him and the fists of Bonidle Jones slammed against the window.

  "Let me in you little bastards! Let me in!"

  "Dude," Bill shook his head as he giggled a nervous laugh, "chill out Bonidle. Go find your own hiding place."

  "Shit yeah, we got here first man and this is our spot."

  Bonidle's face flushed white. He banged down on the glass once more with his teeth clenched in rage. Charlie just laughed at him with an extended middle finger and waggling tongue. Bill put a hand on his shoulder as he fished for something in his pocket with the other; he brought up a thin hand-rolled joint that he displayed with pride.

  "Now that's a way to wait out the storm. Light me up bro."

  There was the grating click of a zippo lighter and the pungent aroma of burning cannabis filled the air. They each took turns taking hearty drags as Bonidle continued screaming.

  "I'll get you for this you sons of bitches! Do you hear me in there!?! I'll kick your hashed out little asses and ... UH ... AHH!!!"

  The body of Bonidle Jones flew up the length of the window in less than a second. His trailing scream dimmed as the source of it rapidly dashed away.

  Bill smiled and lifted his shrinking joint in toast.

  "Good riddance. I was getting tired of his yellin' anyway." He paused and looked up in thought, "I hope he finds his own crib to bunker in though."

  "Uh, Bill?" Charlie was glancing through the window, trying to see where Bonidle had gone. The wall shuddered, the various tools hanging along it jingling in unison. Charlie took a step back and looked down at his companion just as he was offered the last puff.

  "Yo ... you," he burped and held the joint up a little higher, "you want the last bit."

  "Bill," he blinked repeatedly, trying to clear his vision as everything began to grow dark outside, "man, I think we should get out of here dude."

  Bill shook his head emphatically; reveling in the sensations his brain tipped around in.

  "It's cool bro; you can take it. I'll just roll another one in a minute."

  "I don't think you get it Bill."

  "No it's true," he reached deep into his pockets and pulled out a small bag of dried leaves and a few slips of slightly crumpled paper. "See? I got all the stuff right here."

  "Man, I think...," he took a step back as he thought he saw something huge and light brown flash in front of the window.

  "Charlie," Bill looked up at his friend pleadingly; a small tear was forming in his eye. "I want you to have it."

  There was a muffled boom and the wall shook again. A large saw fell off of it's hook and crashed into the workbench below it, sending nails all over the ground. Charlie fell backward, startled by the noise. Bill's mouth slacked open and he nodded as he continued to watch the wall as light seeped in through the vibrating cracks.

  "Wow, this is some good shit."

  Charlie felt the sudden rush of wind as Laura's hand smashed through the window. Glass splintered inward in a crystal shower as he shielded his eyes from the flying shards. Her widespread fingers broke through the flimsy frame, tearing through a good portion of the surrounding wall with an unbearable cracking. Charlie watched the tanned skin of her gigantic arm float over him as he fell onto his back; as his head hit the ground, he saw the upside-down image of Bill, sitting cross-legged, with a look of horrified wonder frozen across his face. His last word stretched across the eternity between them and Charlie heard it in the slow and drawn out scream that the universe allowed.

  "DAAAAAAMMMMMMNNNNN!!!!!!"

  Her palm hit him with the force of a freight train and his head snapped back like it was attached with loose string. The long fingers clamped down on him with lightning alacrity and she quickly withdrew her closed fist; a puny arm was sticking out of it, near the nail of her index finger, still clutching the last bit of a burning joint. There was another smashing sound as Laura's hand broke through more of the wall in it's retreat.

  "Holy shit! HOLY SHIT!" Charlie spun over onto his stomach; glittering debris fell from his chest and he coughed, sending a small spray of dust before him. He began to crawl forward, trying to regain his footing and dash to a safer corner in the barn. The sunlight dimmed away from behind him and he heard the roar of Laura's hand coming through once again.

  He dove, desperately scrambling away to save his life. He felt something clasp on to his foot and his forward progress came to an abrupt halt. He hit the ground, taking the full brunt of it on his chin; blood began to fill his mouth from the fresh wound that was bitten into his tongue. He kicked once, her firm grip tightened and he felt something snap. Charlie let out a piercing scream as pain lanced through the nerves of his leg, sending his hip into a violent spasm.

  He flew forward and fell on his chin more. He pulled himself across the dirt on shaking arms as Laura's hand smashed down on the ground where he was seconds before. He flipped onto his back and watched her arm slide back and forth a few short feet in front of him.

  She had torn off his shoe, breaking a number of the bones in his left foot as well. It was already beginning to swell in the cotton sock and it throbbed with every continuous beat of his heart. Fingers that were as long as he was tall reached for him; the still clean and manicured tips pointing at him accusingly as they searched for his beaten body.

  The wall rumbled again; almost every tool fell to the ground with resounding bangs as Laura thrust her shoulder into the side of the barn, trying to give her arm that extra reach she needed to find her prey. Her arm shot forward another few feet and Charlie rolled out of the just in time to avoid being speared by her long fingers.

  "GRRRRRRAAAAAAHHHH!!!!" She pushed into the wall once more. The whole of it cracked under the pressure, sending new rays of light through forming ruptures. But it held. "YOU CAN'T ESCAPE FROM ME YOU LITTLE VERMIN!"

  Her thundering voice filled Charlie's mind and echoed in terrified madness. He covered his head with flailing arms and curled up into a ball. The dark shadow over the destroyed window lifted; a lone piece of glass finally falling away as it did.

  Charlie looked about through cracked fingers, his hyperventilating breaths rising in pitch as another one of the walls rumbled. The whole barn shook and he heard a boom coming from somewhere nearby. The ceiling was pitched, about thirty feet high off the ground at it's peek in the middle. There were a few lofts with tightly packed bales of hay and nothing else but the tools that once lined one wall. The barn shook again; he could feel the earth moving beneath him as a massive tremor brought dust and bits of straw tumbling through the air.

  A timber broke; the massive beam crashed downward across the room as the support gave way. Charlie's eyes opened wide as he saw the the roof begin to buckle. It split with an ear-deafening crack, the wood along one whole side lifting up and allowing sunlight to stream inside. He saw the same fingers that had been searching for him before lifting up the flimsy ceiling like the lid on a large platter. The other side of the ceiling broke and the fingers of her other hand appeared along it's edge. Chunks of oak and shingles rained down upon him and he covered his eyes once more to shield them from debris and the sudden brightness. His ears listened to it fall about and he felt a few rogue pieces strike him as the tremors continued.

  There was another crash, the soft crunching of the removed barn roof against the softer grass outside. Charlie was warm despite his shivering, the sunshine bringing little comfort.

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