Free More Bedtime Stories for the Apocalypse by Joel Arnold

Bogen
yelled.
    They scrambled out of the grave and reached
back to pull Thune’s bleeding body up and out. As they did so,
something scaly and large, some snake-like thing, emerged from the
hole and grabbed both of Thune’s legs in a teeth-ringed maw. The
men instinctively loosened their grip as they recoiled at the
sight.
    It was all the time it needed to pull Thune
from them, pull him into the hole from which the creature came.
Dirt caved in after it, leaving a depression of blood-soaked soil.
The men stood back from the edge of the grave, panting,
unbelieving, uncomprehending.

    “ What...was...that?” Haagen
gasped.
    They looked at each other, trembling.
    “ What do we tell the mayor?” Bogen
asked. “He’ll think us insane.”
    Haagen tried to light his pipe, but was
unable to do so. He bit on the stem in frustration, and then said,
“We must tell him what we saw. There’s to be no hiding it. Better
the town be prepared by the truth.”
    Bogen nodded. “Aye, you’re right.”
    Amund said, “I don’t know if I have the
words to say what we saw. Even if I wanted to.”
    Haagen said, “We do the best we can. That’s
all anybody can do.”
     
    In the predawn darkness, the men walked
across the road to the pastor’s house and woke him. They said
nothing as they led him down the road to the mayor’s house and woke
him, too. Mayor Espe made a pot of strong coffee, and as they drank
the hot, black liquid around his kitchen table, the men told the
mayor and pastor what they had witnessed, each in their own way,
filling in the blanks for each other when necessary, and nodding
encouragement to each other when the speaker was unable to
continue.
    Finally, Pastor Blom spoke. “We can have no
more burials in the cemetery until we find a way to stop this.
Otherwise all we are doing is feeding this – this thing fresh food.” Blom then looked from one man’s bloodshot eyes to the
next. “I think we should dig up the cemetery. Move the coffins to
unmolested ground.”
    Mayor Espe shook his head. “It’s the start
of the harvest.”
    Bogen blinked. “I’ve got to see if Tuva’s
all right. I’ve got to make sure she’s safe. I’ll do it myself if I
have to. Make sure she’s safe, and if that abomination tries to
take her, it’ll have to get through me first.”
    Amund remembered how Tuva used to invite him
in whenever she baked an apple pie. She died two years earlier from
falling off a horse. “I’ll help,” Amund said.
    Bogen nodded and put his hand over
Amund’s.
    Dawn crept over the land. Mayor Espe slowly
rose from the kitchen table, spread his hands, and said, “I’ll go
down to the fire house and ring the alarm. Gather the people and
tell them what has happened. They can decide for themselves what
they want to do. I can’t tell them not to move their loved ones.
But I also can’t tell them not to tend to their farms if that’s
what they need to do.”
    Pastor Blom nodded. “There will be no
judgment from me.”
     
    Amund followed Bogen back to the cemetery as
the fire bells rang in the distance.
    “ You don’t have to do this, boy. You
need your sleep,” Bogen said.
    “ I’m fine,” said Amund.
    “ I only hope – ”
    Amund frowned. “I’m sure she’s fine,
too.”
    As Bogen and Amund dug toward Tuva’s grave,
more townspeople arrived with shovels and wagons. Word had gone
out, and the townspeople who hadn’t been there early that morning
when Thune disappeared into the earth, stared for a while at the
hole he’d been dragged into, dragged into by some kind of monster . The dirt had already caved back in on itself,
leaving a small depression. The townsfolk steeled themselves for
the task at hand, ready to dig up their loved ones or lend a hand
to those who needed it.
    It was solemn work. Occasionally, a soft
crying could be heard. At other times, one of the men digging would
whistle or sing a quiet tune. There was the smell of sweat and
freshly turned earth and the decay of