What Happened to Lori

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What Happened to Lori Page 55

by J. A. Konrath

You must know how difficult a task it is to bring you here. Would I risk harming either of you?”

  “You hurt people.”

  “I discipline people. Like any good parent must. Now try to pay attention. This will interest you.”

  The Watcher rubbed the pinkish gland on his arm, and he and all the greys nearby spoke in unison.

  “MR. FABLER, STOP THE VEHICLE AND SURRENDER. OR I WILL KILL LORI.”

 
 
 
 
 
 

  She squinted into the everywhere light, saw guards fighting creatures and noticed a vehicle coming at them, fast.

 
 
 
 

  “If you want more Elixir, tell him to give up.”

  Lori laughed, so hard it shook her whole body. “You don’t know my husband. He doesn’t give up.”

  “He will. For you. Tell him.”

  “I have a better idea. Let’s all take some Elixir together. Do you like jazz?”

  “I abhor jazz.”

  “So did I. Now I love it. You can love it, too. If you lower your expectations and open your mind.”

  The Watcher held the laser scalpel to her neck. Lori found this hysterical.

 
 
 

  “SURRENDER NOW, MR. FABLER. OR I WILL REMOVE HER HEAD FROM HER BODY.”

 

  Lori looked around, and saw the Jeep had stopped. Standing there, with a gun in his hands—

 

  “Fabler! Fabler, it’s me! Lori! I love you so much! Come here!”

  “STAY RIGHT THERE, MR. FABLER. YOU AND MR. MCKENDRICK MUST DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND RAISE YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEADS.”

 
 
 
 

  “Tell him to give up, Lori.”

  “You silly-dilly. Fabler doesn’t give up.”

  “Do you want more Elixir?”

 

  “Yes.”

  “Then tell him.”

  GRIM ○ 2:25+pm

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  The thought would have been amusing to Grim, if not for two things.

  First, as much as this whole situation reminded him of roleplaying Dungeons & Dragons with the middle-school nerd set back before he had pubic hair, he’d actually need more than a D20 and a Cloak of Protection to survive this.

  Second, the fifteen meter high red dragon, still chowing down on the Dimetrodon, couldn’t have ever come from Grim’s imagination, because his imagination lacked the intricate details of reality.

  The dragon stank of sulfur and reptile-house dung.

  The Dimetrodon blood raining down on Grim clung to his face and tasted like pennies.

  The dragon’s tail, long as a train car, swished back and forth, clearing a path of small trees and scrub brush.

  The ground beneath Grim’s feet trembled as the dragon shifted its weight.

  The awful noise of giant teeth snapping and grinding bone sounded like a pumpkin being stomped on, times a million.

 
 
 
 

  Sinatra had apparently disagreed with Grim’s actions of moving toward the dragon, rather than away from it, because the blue-eyed sloth had disappeared once Grim ventured into the jungle.

 

  Grim shifted his attention every two steps, scanning the ground, then making sure the dragon hadn’t noticed him.

  Step.

  Check the dragon.

  Step.

  Look for the arm.

  Step.

  Check the dragon.

  Step.

  Look for the arm.

  Step.

  Check the dragon.

 
 
 

 
 
 

  Step.

  Look for the—

 

  Right next to the dragon’s massive front foot, pinned beneath a toenail claw as long as Grim’s leg.

 
 

  The ground shifted, and Grim didn’t hesitate. He lunged for the arm—

  —grabbed the wrist—

  —and turned to sprint back to the compound, taking a step before being jerked off his feet, slamming onto his back.

  Grim stared up into the forest canopy, aware he’d fallen, checking to see that he still gripped the arm, which was still caught under the claw.

 

  The earth shifted again, and Grim stared, too horrified to scream, as the dragon’s head broke through the trees and eyes as big as umbrellas squinted down at him.

  KADIR ○ 2:27+pm

  Doruk’s voice blipped out of Kadir’s head the moment Doruk’s head plopped to the floor.

  None of the other heads attached to the body put up any sort of resistance.

 
 

  Kadir felt a rumbly in one of his many stomachs.

  He mentally ordered the others to eat Doruk’s head.

  Three arms picked it up, and two mouths began to gnaw on it like fleshy corn on the cob.

  Kadir didn’t use his own tongue, but he could taste what the others tasted.

 

  It made Kadir smile.

 

  Kadir looked everywhere at once—a trippy but powerful feeling—and decided his new body had been put in some sort of cell.

  The walls, floor, and ceiling made out of the same, drab, melty plastic shit.

  To one side, a trough of liquid.

  He moved toward it, more like rolling than walking, and stuck his face in the trough, sniffing.

 

  Kadir slaked his thirst.

  Then he pissed, three times at once, and just as he finished up a freezing burst of gas came out of the ceiling.

  The other heads moaned in pain.

  Kadir silenced them as the polar assault continued.

 
 
  r plane of existence?

 
 

  The freezing gas ceased, and Kadir felt every hair stand up as a vacuum filled the cell, sucking the frozen feces into a ceiling hole.

 
 

 
 
 
 
 

  “Say my name.”

  His heads answered. “Kaaaaahdeeeeeeer.”

  Kadir commanded his hands to pass Doruk’s head over, the skull leaking open like a cracked eggshell, the face half-eaten.

  “Where’s Uncle Alpay now, Doruk?”

  Doruk didn’t reply.

  Kadir took a bite.

 
 
 

  “I think I’m gonna like it here.”

  FABLER ○ 2:27+pm

  “Who is that?”

  Fabler squinted through the bloody windshield at a figure bound to some weird, brown table, tilted upright to an almost-standing position.

  “MR. FABLER, STOP THE VEHICLE AND SURRENDER. OR I WILL KILL LORI.”

 

  Fabler jammed on the breaks, reached for his binoculars, the world coming into focus, zooming in on…

 
 

  Fabler’s soul cracked in half and everything spilled out.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  “That’s her, isn’t it? The woman you came here for.”

  Fabler might have nodded at Jake; he lost all awareness except for Lori’s face through the binoculars.

 
 

  “So my sister could be here, too. Holly could be here.”

  The grey pressed something against Lori’s throat.

  “SURRENDER NOW, MR. FABLER. OR I WILL REMOVE HER HEAD FROM HER BODY.”

  Fabler’s joy quick-froze.

 
 

  “Fabler! Fabler, it’s me! Lori! I love you so much! Come here!”

  The ice in Fabler’s heart warmed, just a bit.

 
 
 

  The binocular eyepieces began to fog up, then get blurry.

  “STAY RIGHT THERE, MR. FABLER. YOU AND MR. MCKENDRICK MUST DROP YOUR WEAPONS AND RAISE YOUR HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEADS.”

  Fabler lowered the binocs and surveyed the area. Some dino action to the right, things that looked like purple velociraptors fighting with things that looked like long-legged alligators fighting with greys using their black antimatter guns. To the left, that son of a bitch demon had managed to put out the flames and grow half his head back, and limped toward them, picking up speed while flapping enormous bat wings that had sprouted from its back.

  “What’s the play here, Fabler?”

  Fabler wiped his tears off the binocular lenses and stared at Lori again. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re military. You’ve got some kind of plan.”

  “Nope. No plan.”

  “So you improvise and do something crazy heroic, right?”

  “Wrong.”

  “Wrong? So what are we doing?”

  “I’m going to surrender.”

  “But… but… we’ve got a Jeep full of weapons. We’ve got a flamethrower.”

  “They’ve got my wife.” Fabler raised his hands above his head. “You win, Watcher! I’m going to walk toward you!”

  “But… don’t you army guys have some sort of code? I thought you never surrender.”

  Fabler knew the Code of Conduct as well as he knew the Pledge of Allegiance or the alphabet song. “I will never surrender of my own free will. If in command, I will never surrender the members of my command while they still have the means to resist.”

  “So, there. Do that.”

  “Lori is more important than any code.”

  “What if I don’t want to surrender?”

  “I won’t force you. Keys are in the ignition. Watch out for the greys, the prehistoric monsters, and that devil bastard.”

  “I thought you killed it.”

  Fabler stuck out a thumb and jerked it behind him. “It doesn’t want to stay dead.”

  Jake jerked his head around to stare at the demon, jerked his head back, and dropped the M16, raising his hands up.

  “This feels… wrong.”

  Fabler agreed.

 
 

  “Here we come, Watcher!”

  Fabler began to walk toward his wife and whatever future the universe had planned for them.

  LORI ○ 2:29+pm

 
 
 
  Lori’s joy spiked, but the spike had a bittersweet edge, butting up against ecstasy.

 
 

  Lori sniffled.

 
 
 
 
 
 

  “Giving up.”

  The Elixir made Lori laugh, but it felt like a sob.

 
 
 
 
 
 

  “Fabler!”

  Lori put as much power and yearning and resolve into the scream as she could, fighting the Elixir, fighting her own body and mind.

  Fabler and his companion stopped walking.

  “I love you, Fabler! But don’t you fucking give up!”

  THE WATCHER ○ 2:29+pm

 
 
 

  “KEEP WALKING, MR. FABLER. OR I WILL CUT OFF HER HEAD.”

  “Fabler! Goddammit it! Kill this asshole! Kill them all!”

 
 
 

  The Watcher moves the laser scalpel to her belly, projecting a hologram of her insides.

  Of the baby.

  The image appears right before Mr. Fabler’s eyes, close enough for him to touch.

  “YOUR SON, MR. FABLER. GET ON YOUR KNEES, CLASP YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD, AND CROSS YOUR LEFT FOOT OVER YOUR RIGHT FOOT. OR I PROMISE, I WILL TEAR YOUR CHILD RIGHT OUT OF THE WOMB.”

  PRESLEY ○ 2:29+pm

  Presley jerked sideways as the giant, bipedal anglerfish lunged to bite her, missing by inches, its gaping maw digging icicle teeth into the wall she’d been leaning against.

  She began to topple, hopping around to regain her balance, as the creature shook full-body, trying to free its enormous jaws from the organoplastic. Just as Presley steadied herself, staring into
one of its milky, frisbee-sized eyes, the creature reared back, leaving three dagger fangs stuck into the wall.

  It attacked again, trying to chomp off the upper half of her body, but Presley threw herself backward, falling over, reaching out for anything to grab—

  —and snatching it by the glowing lure stalk.

  The monstrosity gurbled, high-pitched and bubbly, snapping at Presley again and again, coming so close to her chest she became slathered in fish spit. The fifth time the beartrap mouth clapped closed, Presley shoved its own glowstick inside the jaws.

  SNAP! Bye-bye lure light.

  The walking fish warbled louder, spraying blood from its stalk.

  Presley twisted around and yanked one of its icicle fangs out of the wall. She gripped the tooth like a fighting knife, her wrist stump pressing against the wall for stability.

 
 

  She thrusted, connecting with the closest eye, popping it like a water balloon, then withdrawing the improvised stiletto and dodging left.

  The fish spun, smacking Presley with its stubby tail, sending her sprawling to the floor face-first.

  Then it bit her back, and Presley felt the horrible teeth tear into her, the cracking sound

 
 

  Presley tried to draw in a breath, couldn’t, and realized with startling clarity that she was about to die.

  GRIM ○ 2:29+pm

 
 

  Grim ran like his life counted on it because his life depended on it, dodging through the trees and leaping over rocks and underbrush, fast but careful he didn’t trip, beelining for the compound.

  And then, as if by magic, the jungle became a BBQ, flames everywhere, the air around him so hot that his sweat sizzled into steam.

 

  A moment after it hit, the inferno vanished, and Grim understood what happened.

 

  Frantic, Grim cast around for a place to hide, found himself blocked by the thick body of the dead Titanoboa, and hurdled over it, Dukes of Hazzard style, ducking behind the scales as another wave of flames roasted the air above him, assaulting his nostrils with the stench of charcoal ash.

  Grim kept low, crawling along the snake’s body, its scales catching on his clothing, wondering if he could somehow get under it.

 

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