by Cass Kim
Then Emerson was there, bodily shoving the Wilder steps back. He kept pushing it further from the girls, even as the creature grasped and tore at his clothes, fingernails digging trails through the exposed flesh of his arms. Only his sunglasses, still in place, saved his right eye when the Wilder raked a hand down his face. Alyssa was running toward her, sprinting back to the safety of the house. Renna thought of the bruises she’d seen on Emerson’s torso after he’d fought her brother. We aren’t invincible, he’d said.
Renna shook herself out of her frozen state as the fight continued into the edge of the woods, Emerson looking small in comparison to the full grown Wilder. Alyssa was passing her in the doorway now. They could both be inside, safe with copper screens, safe with the door secured. But what about Emerson? The Wilder had him beat not only in height and weight, but with the Wilder lack of awareness of its own pain. She couldn’t see them around the corner of the house anymore, but she could hear Emerson’s grunts of pain, the sickening sounds of flesh hitting flesh.
She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t just leave him out there. Cursing in frustration, Renna wheeled away from the door. She darted through the house, frantically searching for a weapon. What could she use that would make maximum impact and keep her at a safe distance? For the first time, Renna wished her mother had kept a gun in the house. It seemed awfully practical right at this moment.
Like a madwoman, Renna dashed into her brother’s room and snatched the aluminum baseball bat from the corner. She was out of time. Emerson may already be dead and bleeding on the ground by now. The image of the Wilders on the news tearing into flesh with bare hands was searing through her mind. Whipping around the corner Renna saw Alyssa pulling the copper door closed. She shoved past her, shouldering open the door, heedless of the pain in her muscles.
Frantic, she skidded around the side of the house at a full run. She ground to a stop, spotting the men struggling at the edge of the woods. Renna couldn’t contain a ragged gasp, seeing Emerson struggling with the older man, blood coating his face in a smooth sheet from a wound in his forehead. She wrapped both hands around the bat, feeling the crisp edges of the old grip tape. She crept closer, fearful that if she swung too soon she’d hit the wrong person. Pulse pounding, she bit her lip hard to stop from crying out as the bigger Wilder lifted Emerson up and slammed him into a tree. Knowing she’d likely not get a better opportunity before Emerson was hurt worse, she ran forward and swung the bat as hard as she could.
The impact reverberated up her arm and through her shoulders, setting her teeth on edge. Panic froze her as she realized she’d miss the Wilder’s head and struck him broadly across his shoulders. The Wilder released Emerson and turned toward her, movements jerky, as if some of his bones had been broken in the fight. She stared into the face, purpling with bruises, blood tinged foam frothing at the corners of the mouth, and took an instinctive step back.
As if that fearful step signaled her as prey, the Wilder charged her. With no time to wind up for a big swing, Renna held the bat in front of her like pole. The Wilder charged straight into it. The force of his charge pushed the bat into her diaphragm, knocking her breathless. She gripped tight, holding the bat in place as hard as she could. They tumbled to the ground together, the Wilder held off of her only by the bat still between them.
Renna shoved as hard as she could on the bat, but she couldn’t move the Wilder. If Emerson with his greater strength hadn’t been able to hold the creature off, she had no chance. She struggled to flip herself out from under him, turning her head from the foaming mouth and snapping teeth a bat’s length away from her. The bat wobbled between them, moments from collapsing. She grunted, bracing for the Wilder’s attack.
Renna was suffocating in darkness. She couldn’t breath, and in her panic she lost her grip on the bat, the Wilder falling forward onto her as the bat toppled to the side.
She felt the Wilder’s body buck, then still. She still couldn’t see. She was in darkness, struggling to suck in a breath against the heavy plastic covering her face. The weight of the Wilder was rolled off of her, and she heard Alyssa’s trembling voice.
“Renna. Don’t freak out, okay, but you gotta turn a little and I’ll hold the left edge – your left edge- and push the bag off you. You slide out as fast as you can to your left. There’s a lot of blood and you can’t get any on you.” Closing her eyes tightly, Renna followed the instructions.
When she opened her eyes she saw Alyssa in her mother’s elbow length dishwashing gloves, holding a large serrated cheese knife in one hand. She dropped the knife on the body of the dead Wilder as Renna stared mutely. There was jagged wound in the Wilder’s neck still slowly pumping blood into the grass. Her gaze went dumbly to the black trash bag Alyssa had thrown over her before slitting the Wilder’s throat.
“I think we need the hose. We better rinse off every part of our clothes and bodies, just in case.” Alyssa’s voice had stopped trembling, but sounded hollow. Renna nodded in response to her friend’s suggestion, wondering how she’d cut the throat of the Wilder and managed to have almost no blood on herself. We’re both in shock she thought to herself, unable to form the words out loud.
Renna shook her head, trying to shake off her fear. She had a minimal amount of blood on her. Alyssa seemed okay. With a gasp she bolted to her feet, looking for Emerson. She saw his crumpled form at the edge of the woods.
“Emerson!” She stumbled over, knees still wobbly from fear and fading adrenaline. She knelt at his side, afraid to touch the blood on him. He cracked one eye, then coughed, and winced. She scanned him, trying to catalogue his injuries. “Can you tell me if you’re okay?”
“I’ve been better.” He struggled to sit up, and she saw then what had kept him down.
“Stay still!” She commanded, holding her hands out as if she could keep him in place by sheer willpower.
“Oh fuck that... that looks awful.” Alyssa helpfully stated over Renna’s shoulder.
“Emerson, I don’t want to freak you out but… you have stick through your side. I’m going to have Alyssa call an ambulance”
“Renna,” he looked scared, and too pale. “They’ll shoot me on sight. The second they see my eyes. You’ve gotta get me back to my parents. Half the camp are medical doctors.” He started struggling to sit up again.
“Okay! Okay, Emerson, no doctors. Just. Let me figure this out. You just stay still. We’re going to get you back there.” He stopped struggling, nodding and closing his eyes against the late afternoon sun.
Still in shock, Renna put on latex gloves and cleaned and bandaged the most accessible wounds on Emerson’s face and arms. She left the stick embedded in his side, afraid if she pulled it out he’d lose too much blood. The girls rinsed off outside with the hose and stripped their clothes off. Then they dumped the giant bottles of hydrogen peroxide Renna’s mother got at one of those bulk stores over each other and rinsed again. They each took the fastest showers of their lives, soaping up thoroughly with antibacterial soap. They pulled on sweatpants and tee shirts and locked up the house. Tim Tam refused to go back inside, so they let him stay out.
Every precaution they could take to avoid Emerson’s virus infected blood was taken. Both girls put on layers of latex gloves, and wrapped their arms and legs with trash bags duct taped in place. They took her parents old sleeping bags and zipped them together, cutting and duct taping handles at each end. After making Emerson drink some water, they helped him onto their makeshift gurney. Then they changed their top layer of gloves, since they’d gotten smeared with his blood. Renna looked at Syd’s watch, now strapped at the edge of the trash bag on her right arm. They had three hours and fifteen minutes to get back. Hopefully, Emerson could stay awake that long.
Chapter Fifteen
Hiking through the woods carrying a person suspended on a floppy layer of nylon was the hardest physical activity Renna had ever done. Tim Tam followed along with them, keeping a slight distance, and glaring at the fabric stretched bet
ween the two girls. For the first twenty minutes Emerson kept offering to try to walk, at least for a ways. Finally, Alyssa had told him that if he wanted to be helpful he could focus on holding still and being grateful.
Emerson had chuckled and then gasped, asking if maybe she should be grateful first, since he had gotten injured saving her after all. Initially, Renna was able to easily follow Emerson’s tree markings now that she knew where to look for them. The pathway was easy enough to detect, having been traversed multiple times in the past few days.
The real trouble came as the sun began to set. Every root became an obstacle waiting to hook their feet, and the markings were harder to see in the fading light. After the fourth time in less than ten minutes she’d almost dropped the litter they were carrying, Renna suggested they take a break and see if they could figure out how at least one of them could hold a flashlight. The watch face on her wrist was down to fifty-six minutes, by Syd’s count.
Alyssa drank long and deep from the water bottle she’d shoved into Renna’s backpack earlier, while Renna fished out the little flashlight tucked in the bottom. She hoped Emerson knew how much further it was. She hoped the news was good news. He’d been pretty quiet through the recent bumps and she was starting to worry.
Renna grasped the flashlight and clicked it on, the light warm and reassuring in the darkening forest. Alyssa breathed in a long gasp, her thirst satisfied for the moment. Both girls stared at Emerson’s quiet form, his forehead beaded with sweat. The yellow nylon of the sleeping bag was stained dark and wet with his blood. Alyssa met her eyes across his body, looking exhausted, but determined.
“He’s right, you know, he saved my life. He saved yours before, from what you told me.” She jutted her chin out, handing the water bottle back to Renna. “We just have to pick up the pace.”
Renna nodded, loving her best friend more at this moment than she’d ever thought possible. She drank deeply, then zipped the water bottle back into the bag. She drenched the flashlight handle in hand sanitizer then shoved the end into her mouth and gripped it with her teeth. In unison, they grasped the handles they’d made in the sleeping bags and continued resolutely forward. One foot in front of the other. Repeat.
Renna gasped out a strangled cry when they stumbled up to the cabin the Kim’s shared on the outskirts of the camp. She lowered the litter with Emerson carefully to the ground and forced herself to sprint the last several feet and up the steps to the door. She shoved it open, anticipating seeing Soo at the table, or Dr. Kim writing in his notebook. But the cabin was empty. Fighting tears, Renna stumbled back to where Alyssa stood, hunched and aching beside the too-still form of Emerson. She shook her head, and they wordlessly grabbed the handles, again hoisting the litter and stumbling forward.
“I think we can go faster.” Renna gasped, hoping Alyssa could hear her as she faced forward, with her back to Renna, who was carrying the tail end of the litter now. “The path here is smooth. It’s only about half a mile more.” The very bones of her feet ached, and each step sent waves of agony up through her hips and lower back. The girls maintained a shuffling jog, tears brimming from their eyes. They were too close to give up now. Emerson’s breathing was labored and audible even above their own gasping breaths.
Finally, they could make out the glow of the lab tents within the camps. They pushed harder, Renna wheezing out a shout for help, then gulping in air and heaving out her voice in an inarticulate cry. Ahead of them there were shouts and rustling as people peeked out of the tents, and then started edging toward them, not entirely sure what was happening.
Alyssa lost her footing mere feet from the edge of the camp. She fell forward, the litter tipping after her. Renna, exhausted and unable to compensate, fell forward with it. Crashing hard into the ground, trying to avoid falling completely on Emerson’s prone form, Renna felt a pulling tear in her hand.
Moments later they were surrounded by flashlights and glow sticks, people shouting for aid and running back and forth for supplies. Renna saw Emerson’s parents start over at a run as word spread. She noted Syd running over, taking in the scene and saying something to her. Renna didn’t respond. Syd darted off again. Alyssa was crying softly somewhere in front of her.
Renna sat frozen, in the midst of the chaos, staring at her left hand. The layers of latex gloves there had torn straight through when she fell, her first knuckle raw and seeping blood slowly.
She gazed mutely at her entire arm, up past her wrist, and across the pale skin of her knuckles, smeared with Emerson’s blood.
As Renna sat silently, holding her hand in front of her face, Syd sprinted back over, and swiped an opened alcohol wiped across the meat of her bicep, then pinched and inserted a needle, depressing the plunger and shoving the needle and empty syringe into a plastic box within moments.
“It’s going to be okay, Renna. You gotta come with me.” Syd hauled her up to standing. Numbly, Renna limped after her.
Chapter Sixteen
Renna was burning up. Her skin crawled making her want to tear it off, just to get some air. She drifted in and out of consciousness. Her vision was blurry and her hair was soaked through with sweat. She tossed and turned, trying to break away from the sensation that her bones were now too big for her body.
Each time she woke, the prick of a needle sent her quickly back under, to live in fever dreams.
The next time she woke she was spasming, arching against the bed. Her wrists and legs were restrained. He body shook, straining and curling, pushing and pulling against itself.
A cool hand on her forehead.
The cold prick of a needle.
Sleep again.
It was the whimpering that woke her next. Low, and throaty, grating at her ears. Her nerves were burning, fires racing up and down her spine, out into her limbs where her fingers and toes were full and heavy with coals. Her head was pounding, the blistering heat scorching the back of her eyes, the flames licking through her sinuses. It was only when the cool hand placed a wet cloth on her forehead and urged her head up to sip from a straw that she realized the whimpering was coming from her own ragged throat. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop the keening leaking through her lips between sips. The water was blissfully cold, soothing and sweet.
“Renna, I’m going to give you something for the pain. But I want you to only sleep a natural sleep now. No more sedatives.” The voice was reassuring in tone, familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Renna tried to force her eyes open, dragging at the tiny muscles in her eyelids. She peered out through the slit, peeking through her lashes. The person was indistinct, shadowy in the dark tent. She thought she saw the tiniest glimmer of copper before the pain medication began working it’s magic and sleep dragged her back down.
Chapter Seventeen
“Look, she’s my best friend and you’ve kept her hidden in this tent, screaming and crying and moaning for days! I need to see her. If you don’t let me see her, I will cut a fucking hole in the side of the tent and go in that way.” Alyssa’s voice rose with her threat.
“Mom, please. Just let us see her. We won’t even wake her up if she’s sleeping. Just let us peek in on her.” Emerson’s voice was low and reasonable in contrast.
Renna heard a soft sigh, and then Soo’s gentle voice, “Yes. You will not wake her. Just for a short visit, Emerson. If she’s awake, she will be tired. You remember.” The sound of zippers and velcro preceded their soft footed entrance into the tent.
This time when Renna opened her eyes, she could see more clearly. She was pleasantly surprised to find that her hands and feet were no longer restrained as she reached over to rub at her puffy eyelids.
“Rennoodle!” Alyssa’s voice was soft, but unmistakably delighted to see her awake. She moved a little stiffly and her arm was in a sling, but her face was bright and clear. Behind, moving much more slowly and stiffly, limped Emerson, face tight with pain.
Renna peeled her chapped lips back in an attempt to smile reassuringly. Based on Alyssa’s f
altering smile, she did a poor job.
“Let’s give her a little water. I felt like I’d lived in a desert for days with no water when I woke up.” Emerson unscrewed the cap of a plastic water bottle, shuffling to the other side of her bed.
Alyssa sat gingerly on the bed next to Renna, smoothing her hair back. “Yeah, but you took weeks to transform, from what I heard. My girl Renna here has made it through in just days.”
“She had a totally different virus mutation!” Emerson protested as he brought the water bottle to Renna’s lips.
“All I hear is more proof that she’s tougher than you are, mister ‘waahh I got a stick shoved through my abdomen to save you.’” Alyssa mocked him, helping to hold Renna’s head up with her good hand.
Gulping down a few sips of water, Renna cleared her throat. Yeah, a few weeks in a desert felt about right to her throat too.
“Hey,” she croaked, voice barely above a whisper.
“Shhh!” Emerson reached across Renna and whacked Alyssa’s shoulder to shush her as she started to speak.
“Hey, guys,” Renna tried again, feeling the tug of a small smile at the corners of her mouth.
“Hey, Renn,” Emerson’s voice was tentative. “How’re you feeling?”
“Not great.” The understatement of the year.
Emerson nodded, and Alyssa reached down to grab her hand. Their eyes met across Renna’s bed and then Alyssa cleared her throat.
“Okay, Rennoodle. Here’s the thing. You’re supposed to be resting, but you know. You’re awake and shit, so-“
“Do you have to cuss like a sailor?” Emerson cut in.
“You’re cutting back,” Renna reminded her friend, the words whistling out.
Alyssa snorted, “That’s the first thing you have to say? To scold me for cursing?” She squeezed her hand, grinning down at her, tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Rennoodeldoodlebgoodle. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”