Read Part 1 here

The only road onto Roman Farms from Route 16 was along the vast orange groves that dominated the property. So, when Steve Clucken and his partner, Maggie Trace, pulled the ambulance onto the small service road along the groves, he had no idea that the trees would be in the road instead of alongside it. He immediately swerved to avoid a group of trees. The ambulance flipped, and it threw both Emergency Workers out of their seats and slammed into the windshield.

When the dust settled, Steve looked over and saw his partner nearly decapitated, her head halfway out of the shattered windshield and blood squirting out in a fountain. She was dead, but Steve felt okay. His head throbbed, and his arm bent at an awkward angle. So he climbed out of the driver-side window and crawled onto the side of the overturned van. He saw the trees, but his mind took an extra second to register the sight. Trees didn’t walk, they didn’t move, and they certainly didn’t attack. But that’s what was happening. Two large Orange trees were swinging their long, slender branches against the van, pelting Steve as he slid down the opposite side and took off running. He saw a house in the distance, shaded by a massive copse of willow trees.

And then he was on the move, closing the distance to the house. He had no idea what he would find in there. Perhaps the man who made the 911 call is on the floor bleeding, begging for help. And was this what happened to him as well? Did trees also attack him? The very thought of it sounded crazy, but the sound behind him made Steve realize that crazy or not, this was happening.

Harry heard the crash and knew with certainty that something terrible happened. So he jumped up from the table, feeling light-headed. He put his hand against the back of the chair and steadied himself. A wave of nausea washed over him, his torn arm a throbbing siren underneath the bloody shirt. And then it passed, and Harry made his way into the living room. He went to the large bay windows and looked out through the curtains. A man was running towards the house. And behind the man, the trees were moving again. Harry ran over to the front door and yanked it open. The running man waved his arms above his head, screaming.

“Help! Please!” the man said as he bounded up the steps and flew into the house. Harry shut the door and turned to face the man who had come running. The man’s clothes gave away his profession, and Harry felt a bit of relief.

“You’re the paramedic,” Harry said.

Steve was bent over, his hands on his knees, catching his breath. “I am. Are you okay?”

Harry lifted his bloody stump towards the man. “Other than this, yes.”

Steve stood up, took another deep breath, and approached Harry.

“I’m Harry, and you?”

“Steve Clucken,” he said, not taking his eyes away from the bloodied shirt wrapped around Harry’s arm. “You did a fine job on this wrapping, but I want to take a look at it.” Steve was holding the stump in his hands, intending to open the makeshift bandage.

Harry pulled his arm away and put it at his side. “I appreciate your wanting to help, Steve, but we have more pressing matters at the moment.”

Harry gestured towards the window, and Steve looked out. The trees were halfway through the copse of willows. They would be at the house within minutes.

“Shit,” Steve said, putting his hand to his head.

“Have you got a vehicle?” Harry asked.

“I did, but we hit those damn trees when I pulled onto your property.”

“We?”

Steve stopped pacing and turned to face Harry. “Yes. My partner and me. She didn’t make it.”

Harry lowered his head, feeling the weight of the situation beginning to wear on him. He was every bit of seventy-four now, feeling tired and scared. Was this how he would go? Would the monstrous trees tear him apart?

“So, no vehicle?” Harry said.

“No.”

“Then we call 911 again. They will get someone to come get us out of here,” Harry said, looking out the window.

Steve made no protest, and Harry picked up the phone and dialed 911. It sounded like the same operator, and Harry didn’t let her finish her spiel before he started yelling.

“Hey, it’s me again. The paramedic came, but he was injured in a crash. Could you send another one? And maybe some police.”

The operator made a sighing noise on the other end. “Sir, please calm down and tell me what. . .”

“THERE’S NO TIME, DARLIN’!” Harry screamed. “SEND SOMEONE NOW!”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He hung up the phone and moved back to Steve’s side.

The young paramedic was shivering by his side, and Harry thought this kid was no older than twenty-five and more scared than he was. Outside the window, Harry saw the trees beyond his front porch. They were coming.

Steve backed up and looked around the room. “Are there any guns here?” he asked.

“Guns? For what?” Harry said.

“To kill these trees.”

Hearing Steve say it made Harry laugh. “There are trees attacking us, Mr. Clucken. Trees. That’s not something I’ve ever heard about. Have you?” He looked into Steve’s eyes, trying to read what was going on behind that scared look. “So, unless I’ve got something to burn these sons of bitches with, guns ain’t going to help, son.” Harry shook his head, feeling like he was chiding one of his children.

The trees had moved onto the first step of the porch, crushing it into splinters as the branches that served as legs lumbered onto the porch. Each step crashed and splintered as they moved, three at a time, up the steps. Harry grabbed Steve by the arm and pulled him into the kitchen. The young paramedic was in shock and not going to be of any use. Harry turned on the water at the kitchen sink and cupped a handful. He flung it into Steve’s face. The young man jerked away as if he had been asleep and turned towards Harry.

“WHA…?” He shouted.

“Stay with me, Steve. We’ve got to get out of this house real quick like.”

Harry pulled open the back door that led from the kitchen into the backyard. He was greeted with a thump to the face. A tree branch swung in the doorway, ripping the door off and taking the frame with it. Harry fell back into the kitchen table, holding his cut face. He felt warm blood running over his fingers and staggered to his feet, hearing the kitchen table crash by his feet.

Steve continued to be useless, finding a home against the stove, whimpering. Harry grabbed the nearest object, a chair, and swung it against the flailing tree branch. He smacked it hard, seeing several hunks of wood break free and fall to the floor. The branch swung once more before retreating out of the doorway. Harry dared to get closer, seeing the offending tree just outside of the kitchen. It was almost pathetic. Its branches hung limply at its side, like a defeated boxer unable to go another round. Harry moved to the edge of the door frame and brought the chair out with him. He swung at the tree again, connecting soundly with what would have been its face. If they had faces.  If trees pulled themselves from the earth and stalked old men and useless paramedics. But this was the situation, and when Harry hit the tree with the chair, he could feel it break against the offending beast. The chair shattered into pieces and fell to the ground with Harry left holding the top of the chair back. The tree staggered and then turned on Harry in anger.

“Oh shit,” he said as the tree swung its branches at Harry, connecting with his shoulder and sending him falling back into the kitchen. Steve pulled himself away from the stove and knelt by Harry. He put his arms under Harry’s and lifted him up.

“We’re not leaving this house, son,” Harry said.

“Looks that way,” Steve said, very much in the game after all.

Harry heard glass breaking in the living room. The trees were on their way into the house.

The police cruiser, followed by another ambulance, pulled into the large gravel drive that ran along the side of Harry’s house. Officer Dan put his car into park and jumped out, eyeballing the moving forest in front of the house. The ambulance pulled up next to the cruiser and stopped. Two large men jumped out and stood by Dan’s side.

“Is that for real?” one of the large men asked.

“What the fuck?” Officer Dan replied. The three men moved towards the front of the house. Officer Dan pulled his gun from its holster, relying on instinct rather than common sense. Nothing in his training had ever prepared him for this, though. This situation would be unique.

As the three men moved towards the front of the house, something moved behind them. It was another group of trees, coming from behind them. Officer Dan turned around, but it was too late. The trees had closed on the three men and began thumping them with their branches. They threw officer Dan against the side of the house and crumpled to the ground, his legs broken. The two large men both grabbed a branch and began tugging against the trees. But it was only seconds before another tree swung, catching both men at the neck, ripping their heads off in one wild swipe. Both heads rolled towards Officer Dan. He screamed out loud and then tried to stand. His broken legs failed him, and he crumpled to the ground, feeling his right arm snap in half. He screamed again, holding his crooked forearm up in the air.

But his pain was brief. The trees descended on him and gored him with a branch through his sternum. Officer Dan spit out a mouthful of blood, and then fell silent forever.

“We’re not getting out of here alive, Steve,” Harry said.