Two

A door slammed shut, startling me. The professor continued to the front of the classroom, unaware of my near heart attack.  I minimized my browser but kept my laptop out with every intention of taking notes. However, my mind returned to the video as the professor began her lecture.

I gave in to the urge to check social media after another text from Ryan.  My feed was exploding with “prayers for Germany” and thoughts going out to them.

When class ended at noon, I started to pack up my bag.  The ground trembled beneath my feet again.  Not many of the students even paused on their way out of the room.  Tremors in Oklahoma weren’t a rare occurrence.  I shouldered my bag and joined the flow out of the room.

My phone beeped almost immediately after the tremble stopped.

Did you feel that? Ryan sent.

Yeah.  Stupid fracking, I sent back.

Tremors were near Irving, Texas.  And we’re feeling them here, he replied.

My stomach dipped as I continued my walk outside.  We shouldn’t have been feeling tremors all the way from Texas.  The ones we felt here were usually from fracking to the north of us.  Ryan had to be mistaken.

I hurried to my dorm building, eager to turn on the news to learn more when my phone chimed with another text from Ryan. I didn’t look at it until I made it to the fourth floor landing.

Are you watching the news? This is insane!

I didn’t stop to answer.  I was in my room and had clicked the TV on a minute later. The channel was still on the news station from before.  Streaming on the bottom bar was an urgent update: “There have been reports of tremors and earthquakes in Irving, Texas.”

The door opened and Kristin came in with her bag strapped over her shoulder.

“Did you feel that?” she asked.  “I was walking past Gould when I felt the tremor. My professor let us out early.”

“Yeah, I was just leaving class when I felt it.  The news is saying that it originated from Irving, Texas.”

“Texas?”

“Oh, shit.  Kristin, I’m sorry. I forgot.”

“It’s okay. Wichita Falls is about two hours outside of Irving.  My parents should be fine.”  She sent a quick text off before she came to sit next to me on the couch.  Only a minute later, her phone chirped.  She looked at the screen.

“They’re fine,” she said.  “No damage so it couldn’t have been too bad.”

We continued to watch the news for updates, but there wasn’t much to report.  Just a tremor that didn’t destroy anything.  Yet, I couldn’t stop feeling a sliver of unease.  First, Germany’s tremors, and now, here in the States?

A very quiet rumble started in my stomach, a reminder that I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast.

“You ready to get something from Shades of Brown and some lunch?” I asked.  It was a typical Tuesday run for us.  She liked the Bolivian cocoa from Shades of Brown, and I loved the artisan sandwiches from Zoe's Kitchen.

She nodded and grabbed her keys.  I took my wallet from my backpack and followed her out the door.  We took the stairs to the ground floor level, passing other students coming and going.

“How about I drop you off at Shades of Brown and run to get the food? I need to keep working on my paper,” she said.

I agreed, wanting to get back to keep my eye on the news.  Little vibrations still rumbled under our feet.

It didn’t take too long to get to Shades of Brown. Kristin pulled over to drop me off then left to go a few blocks down for our sandwiches. I walked under the black awning protecting the entrance and into the quaint shop. I inhaled the rich scent of fresh ground coffee and stepped up to the counter.

The tall barista with dark hair brushing over bright blue eyes smiled at me, starting a flutter in my stomach.  I was a marshmallow for a gorgeous set of eyes.

“Hey, what can I get ya?” he asked.

“Two Bolivian cocoas please.”

“Sure thing,” he said with a wink and pushed off the counter to start my order.

I glanced around.  I enjoyed coming here when I needed to get away from campus. The distressed wooden counters and small reading nooks made the place feel cozy and homey. There were always open tables, like now, to sit and take in the atmosphere.

“All right, two Bolivian cocoas to go,” the Barista said, jarring me from my study.

I smiled and paid.

A tremor rolled under my feet, causing the hot chocolates to ripple. I held my breath as I waited for it to finish. I glanced up, and the Barista’s brows were pinched and his lips were tight.

“It’s getting really Jurassic Park out there.”

He turned to me, his lips parting in a silent question. I forced a smile on my face and walked out.  Not everyone got me.  Fine, very few people got me.

My phone beeped, and I set the cups on the outdoor seating to check my messages.

Tell me you’re seeing the pattern, too. #freaksbyblood

I grinned.  Ryan was one of the few who got me.

Creepy coincidence?  Anything on the news?

Kristin pulled up.  I quickly got in, ready to head back to our dorm building.

Local no.  Searching for anything new from Germany.

Once we got back to our room, Kristin and I immediately turned on the TV.  We watched the local report, waiting to see if something would come up about the earthquakes in Texas.

Sent you a link, Ryan texted.

“Ryan tagged me in a new video from Germany,” I said, moving to get my laptop before sitting back down next to Kristin.

I logged in and tapped the link for the video that had been live-streamed from Germany. Kristin muted the TV and watched with me as a man’s face appeared on screen.  He was breathing heavily and his eyes were wide. The image was dimly illuminated and bounced around as if the man was running. The angle of the recording changed as he lifted his phone high. I couldn’t understand what he was saying and focused on the black he was recording.

For a moment, there was nothing but darkness and his harsh, gasping breaths.  Then, I heard it.  The clack and clatter of something moving in the void.  Kristin and I both leaned forward. A growl started low and grew louder through the speakers.

“Is this live?” Kristin asked softly.

I looked at the time stamp.  “No, but it was live.”

The jerky aim of the camera caught a flash of movement in the darkness behind the running man.  Suddenly, dozens of red dots flashed before the angle changed again.

My phone chimed, but I ignored it.

A blood-curdling scream made Kristin and me jump.  We stared at the black screen and listened as the sound of growls and screaming increased.  Something moved close enough to the camera light and was caught on video.  It looked like a very large dog’s leg.  An instant later, it moved out of frame.  Teeth flashed, and the recording went black.

Kristin and I remained silent. My sandwich felt like lead in my stomach. For a moment, I couldn’t process anything beyond the fact that I was certain we’d just watched a man die.  Then I picked up my phone.

Are you watching? Ryan had sent.

Why would you send me that? I’m going to dream of that shit now.

That’s just one of the reports of animal attacks from Germany since the last tremor.  It’s like the wildlife freaked out and turned on us.  Why aren’t we seeing any of this on the news?

I didn’t know how to answer Ryan so I turned the volume back up on the TV instead, to try to figure out what was going on.

“There have been reports of aftershocks in Irving, Texas. Viewers are urged to seek shelter.”

Kristin jumped from the couch.

“I’m going to call my parents.”

I nodded as she walked back into our bathroom. I texted Ryan.

Are you still feeling tremors there?

No. But are you still watching the news?

Yeah.

Did you see they announced communications are down in western Germany?

I hadn’t heard that.  Earthquakes…bizarre, aggressive animal behavior.  I nibbled my bottom lip. What the hell was going on over there?  And why was I feeling so creeped out about the tremors we felt here?  I glanced over at our bathroom door and heard Kristin speaking to her mom. At least they were still safe.

Once Kristin finished talking, she rejoined me to watch the news. At 5 p.m., I got another text from Ryan.

Just heard from a friend in Wichita Falls.  EAS ran a broadcast in Texas to stay indoors.

Without saying anything to Kristin, I changed the channel to see if we could get more local information.

“Due to reports of strange animal activity, people are encouraged to avoid animals showing any unusual traits or seeming unnaturally agitated. In other news…” The news anchor went over other safety precautions for Earthquakes.

“How’s your mom holding up?” I asked Kristin.

“Good.  They just had dinner.  That last quake messed up the storage in the basement so they’re cleaning that up.”

If her parents weren’t mentioning anything about the EAS, neither would I.

The station we were watching cut over to a program in progress.  I tried a few other channels, but they similarly were no longer reporting on Europe or the tremors.

Kristin went to her desk and worked on her paper.

What’s happening in Germany? Local cable sucks, I sent Ryan.

Reports of lost communication spreading.  Friends no longer able to get messages to friends.  Saw a message translated from someone in France reporting dog attacks in their neighborhood. Keep you posted.

I settled in to watch a movie.  The room was getting warmer, as was usual in the evenings.  Kristin opened the window a crack without me asking, and I kicked off my pants and got comfortable with a blanket.

It was around nine when Kristin climbed into her bunk, and I turned off the volume. It didn’t do much good.  Laughing and loud music faintly reached us. Somewhere nearby, someone was having a good time, and I heard Kristin move restlessly in her bed.

Near eleven, the music finally quieted. Kristin sighed, and I turned off the TV and climbed into my bunk.  Someone called a goodbye in the hallway, and I closed my eyes.

All was quiet in our room when an eerie howl sounded from outside.  Fear formed a cold ball in my stomach as I glanced over at Kristin, who stared at our partially open window.

The howl came again, sounding closer.

I grabbed my phone and scrambled down from the bunk to get to the window.  Outside, the campus lights illuminated the view of the grounds, street, and distant parking lot.

Someone walked into view from the base of our building.  He looked back toward the entrance and yelled goodnight just before another howl rent the air.  The guy stopped and looked toward the south.  Whatever he saw had him turning quickly.

“Get back inside,” he shouted as he ran toward the building.

Behind him, in the distance, several shapes were moving fast.  Dogs.  Really, really big ones.  Their thin, black bodies flew through the shadows, their eyes reflected red in the darkness.

“What the fuck is that?” Kristin asked.

The dogs were gaining on the guy fast.  One sprang forward and knocked him to the ground.  It closed its maw around the man’s calf and shook its head viciously.  I dialed 911 and lifted the phone to my ear.  I listened to an all-circuits-are-busy message as the guy outside screamed and thrashed.  Beside me, Kristin began to sob.  More dogs converged on the man.