Not today. Today, the few people he did see, stood still as sticks just inside their houses, standing behind windows, or at doors half cracked open, just…staring at him. And they were all wet, as if they’d just stepped out of dirty showers. And what was with the clothes? Most just wore rags, like they’d been in a freakin bomb blast or sumthin, their shredded clothing just hanging on their oily bodies.

Just up ahead was Krozer’s Groceries, and he quickly lifted his arm to check his watch – he had time to grab a quick choc-mint shake before finishing up his run. He turned into the store parking lot, and had rolled toward the front door, coming to a stop next to a power pole he was going to prop his bike against, when he froze.

Billy stared, his brow creasing as he tried to understand what he was seeing – inside the store there was a maelstrom of chaos and confusion. Shelves were tipped over and the dozen or so people inside – checkout guys and girls and customers alike, were all stuck in something. The thick, soundproof glass out front stopped any noise escaping, and the electronic doors were shut, but he could see there was some sort of black ropey stuff all over them, and they were immobilized, like they were trapped in a web thingy…but a living web thingy. The coils were wrapped tight around arms, necks, legs and waists, and it was slowly dragging everyone toward the rear of the store, where Billy knew was the entrance to the cellar’s coolroom.

Fishing – they’re all in a fishnet – caught, was what came to mind as he stared with his mouth gaping.

The black stuff tugged again, and they were all dragged another few feet. The faces of the trapped were terrible – all screwed up in pure horror. He wheeled his bike a few feet closer to the glass and saw Mrs Hornsby, Jake Hornsby’s mother, extend a hand to him, as though trying to reach for him. Her mouth was almost a perfect circle: she was probably screaming her lungs up. Just then, another black length of wet rope lashed around her free arm, and then the net was jerked some more.

Billy started to back up. One by one all the people disappeared between the fallen shelves toward the entrance to the cellar.

Krozer’s Groceries was finally still. Billy looked around – the carpark was empty, and he wondered what he should do. Just then the electronic doors pinged, and one of the slimy bits of black rope started to creep out into the carpark.

Billy dragged his bike around and jumped down hard on the pedal. He rode and rode hard – fuck the shake, fuck the paper-run, fuck his pay, he was going home.

*

Abrams watched Decker as he took the call he was waiting on from the Secretary of Defense. The general gathered a few notes and then snatched up the phone, his face grim. The greeting was short and pleasantries near nonexistent.