He smiled back at her, and it felt so good he left the expression there for a while.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “Service with a smile.”
She put her head against his shoulder and started to sob quietly.
“I miss them,” she said. “They ain’t ever coming back. And it were those bastards in the suits what did it. I’ll never trust them. For all I know it were them that sent the bears to the farm.”
She’d mentioned the bears several times now. Fred guessed they were her thing, like his with ghosts, and Doc’s with aliens.
“Tell me about the bears,” he said softly. That was all it took. Sarah started speaking, and it all came out in a rush.
“It were just after dark,” she started. She took his cigarette from him, her hand trembling, and smoked in tiny puffs, not inhaling, an amateur pretending to be a smoker. It did seem to calm her though, so Fred let her keep it and lit up another for himself. “Pa was out in the barn and Ma was in the kitchen. I was in the parlor, just sitting and thinking.
“And that’s when I done heard it, a snuffling and a scratching, like a ’coon trying to find a way in. Pa came back from the barn and went straight to the gun cabinet. He had his shotgun out and loaded seconds later. ‘Stay here,’ he said. ‘Damn ’coons are at it again.’
“He went outside and we heard him stomping and cursing for a long time. But there weren’t anything for him to shoot at…not right then.
“We sat in the kitchen for an hour. The things snuffled and scratched, but every time Pa went looking, there weren’t nothing there for him to shoot at. Ma was getting herself into a right state. She thought it was rats. And if there’s one thing Ma can’t stand, it’s rats. ‘Kill them, Pa,’ she screamed. ‘Kill them all.’
“Pa was right riled up after a while of Ma’s shouting, and he was good and ready to shoot first and ask questions later.
“So when the handle started to turn on the back door, he let off the shotgun. Blew the window right out and everything.
“‘Got you now, fuckers,’ he shouted and ran to the door. Ma and me were right behind him, hoping to see that he’d got the booger that had us so afeart.
“But there weren’t nothing there. Ma got sorely spooked at that, and started screaming for Pa to get us out of there. Pa weren’t for leaving though. He loaded up that big old gun again and went running round the farm. Me and Ma heard him blasting away at anything that moved. I done told Ma that everything was okay, that Pa would protect us.
“But when Pa came back, he was as white as a sheet.
“‘Phone your sister and tell her we’re heading her way. Then get your coat on,’ he said to Ma. ‘We have to go. Right now.’
“‘What’s wrong, Pa?’ I asked. I thought he weren’t gonna answer, and when he did, he didn’t sound like Pa at all. He sounded like a scared old man.
“‘Summat’s taken the barn. Ate it all up. There ain’t nothing left but a big hole in the field.’
“Of course, I didn’t believe him—not right then. I tried to push him aside, but he wouldn’t let me see.
“‘Just for once, do as you’re told, lass,’ he said. He was so quiet, so gentle, I knew summat was wrong. ‘We need to get out of here.’
“At least Ma did as she was told. She was good at that. She put the phone down.
“‘She’s expecting us in a couple of hours. I need to pack…’
“‘Ain’t no time for no packing,’ Pa said. ‘We’re leaving now.’
“Pa made us walk behind him out onto the front porch. He fired again, near deafened me, at a shadow near the truck. When I looked, there weren’t nothing there but fresh spattering of pellets in the bodywork.
“‘What is it, Pa?’ Ma asked.
“‘Haunts.’ That was all he’d say. He bundled us into the truck, and we bounced away over the ploughed field. I thought my teeth was going to rattle right out of my head.”
The girl leaned forward to stub out the cigarette she’d been holding without smoking. Her hand trembled so much she could scarcely reach the ashtray. Fred took the smoke gently from her fingers and ground it out.
“You don’t have to go on,” he said. “Not if you don’t want to.”
She looked up at him, fresh tears in her eyes.
“I need to tell you,” she said. “The bears might come back.”
She wiped the moisture from her eyes angrily, then continued her story.
“Ma saw the bears first; four of them, blocking the gate to the field.
“‘Pa!’ she screamed.
“‘I see them,’ Pa replied. He floored the pedal of the old truck and headed straight for them…and you ain’t gonna believe this bit.
“The headlights washed over the bears and they started to melt. Then we hit them, straight on. Suddenly the whole windshield was covered in red gloop, like summat from one of them horror films. Ma screamed fit to burst, and Pa cussed and swore like a sailor. Then, finally, the wipers done did their job and our view cleared. When we got to the highway, Pa still had his foot down, hard. Something started to rattle at the back axle and he had to slow, but not too much.
“Ma clung so tight to me I couldn’t hardly breathe, and Pa kept cussing, long after we’d left the farm behind.
“‘I think we’re clear,’ he said, finally. ‘Ain’t nothing on this road but us.’
“‘What was it, Pa?’ Ma said. ‘What did we hit?’
“He didn’t answer, just lit up a smoke, but I saw by the way his hands shook that he weren’t near as calm as he pretended to be.
“At first Pa meant to head for town, but as we crested Parson’s Hill we saw all the lights go out across the trailer park. Pa braked hard at the same time, damned near sent me through the windshield. I weren’t allowed the time to chew him out though. Three more bears came out of the woods. Ain’t like no bears I seen afore; these were big and red and soft. But they were bears all right. What else could they be?
“And they done died easily enough. Pa leaned out his window and shot one in the head and it just burst and fell apart like a water balloon. Then we were headed off back along the road, making for the forest track and we got stopped by the men in the white suits…”
She stopped again, and grabbed Fred’s free hand.
“You can guess the rest. Pa weren’t in no mood to obey no feds…not after the thing with the bears.
“‘Ain’t going back to no town,’ he said. ‘Not if there ain’t any town to go back to.’
“He gunned the engine, I heard a shot…and the next thing I remember is seeing your face as you leaned over me.”
She had fresh tears running down her cheeks, but didn’t stop Fred when he wiped them gently away.
“I’ll take the job,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She smiled wanly.
“Maybe you ain’t got any choice in the matter.”
18
The laboratory was in semidarkness, and at first glance Janet wasn’t sure what she was looking at on the trestles. They looked like giant heads of corn, some six feet long, over a foot in diameter, but they were pink where corn would have been green; pink and wet, like flesh. As she got closer she saw they were translucent, and contained rounded, unformed embryos.
Then she got it.
Pod people. Somebody’s thing is pod people.
Mullins pointed at the pods.
“Is this the same material you told me about?”
“Put on the lights and you’ll see for yourself quickly enough.”
“I don’t have to do that. I’ve got some on a slide.”
Mullins pointed Janet over to a microscope. She looked down, and saw exactly what she expected to see. The illuminated mount gave out enough light for the sample to revert to the basic protoplasm she’d seen in her own surgery.
Mullins was bent over a trestle, examining the pods.
“The geologists we sent down to check out the mines found them. They say the whole system
is full of them; hundreds, they said.”
Janet tried to gauge the scientist’s emotional state, but couldn’t read anything through the facemask.
“I told you when I was here before. These are just a manifestation,” Janet said. “One of the geologists has a thing for Pod People, that’s all. You could just as easily have found the nest of a giant spider. Indeed, you might well do just that the next time you go down there.”
“Nobody’s going down there,” Mullins said. “The general is going to burn the place out, just as soon as it can be arranged.”
“I suspect that won’t cure anything,” Janet said. “You people are now as much infected as we are. You just haven’t noticed it yet.”
“Nonsense. We’ve taken every precaution.”
“And it’s not enough. But you’ll be finding that out for yourself when it gets dark.”
Mullins went quiet at that. Now that she had the scientist thinking, Janet pressed her advantage.
“And if you don’t want a mutiny on your hands, I suggest you get some supplies over to us. There’s only six of us now, but we’re running out of food.”
Mullins nodded, although she had a faraway look in her eyes. Janet didn’t want to push too hard. She stood, and Mullins let her walk away.
“Now excuse me,” she said as she went down out of the trailer. “I have an experiment of my own to prepare.”
19
“Are you sure this is wise?” Bill said.
It had grown dark outside. The CDC had the parking lot lit up with arc lights, but here at the back of the bar the gloom thickened and shadows crept. Janet stood at the open kitchen door, looking out into the backyard.
“The CDC is no better off than we are,” Janet said. “And the general’s answer is to bomb the shit out of it. I’m sure that’s not wise.”
She turned to look at the sheriff. They were the only two at the door, the others having turned down a chance to watch Janet’s experiment in favor of staying in the bar. They’d left Fred and the girl in conversation, Ellen Simmons in her corner, and Charlie behind the bar with a fresh bottle of JD. Here at the kitchen door the only sound came from the constant beat of the generator.
Janet leaned against Bill. He put an arm around her and pulled her close. They stood like that for a long time, neither speaking, as the darkness gathered in the yard outside.
Shadows shifted in the passenger seat of the rusting pickup. Night fell. Somebody sat in the pickup, staring back at Janet and the sheriff, unmoving, as yet.
“It’s showtime,” Bill whispered.
“Shush. I’m concentrating.”
The figure swung itself out of the seat. The legs flowed and thickened, becoming pale, naked and strangely thin, with three toes on each shoeless foot. The too-thin body rolled out of the pickup, languidly, smoothly, with all the grace of a practiced dancer. It stood in front of them, unblinking, five-foot-high arms too long in proportion to its height. The slender oval head tilted to one side. Large oval eyes—all pupil and blacker than the surrounding shadow—stared straight at Janet. The thing raised a hand that contained two long fingers and a thumb and spoke from a mouth that was little more than a slit across the lower part of its face.
“Fred is dead,” it said.
Janet took a deep breath and stepped out of Bill’s arms to stand directly in front of it. She had no real plan of action in mind beyond attempting communication. She held up her right hand to mimic the thing’s gesture, and spoke.
“Fred is dead,” she said.
“We are with Fred,” it replied. Janet watched carefully, but there were no accompanying hand or head movements that might give away what it meant or what it wanted in reply.
“We are with Fred,” she answered, hoping that she was saying the right thing and not just making matters worse for them.
“Fred is dead.”
This is getting us nowhere.
At the corner of her eye she saw something else shift in the dark inside the pickup. There was something else in the passenger seat.
“Janet,” Bill whispered behind her.
“I see it,” she said, softly.
The thing in front of her cocked its head at the sound.
At least I know it reacts to me and it’s not just some kind of recording.
She stepped closer and opened her arms, showing her palms.
“We mean no harm.”
“Weemean,” it replied, and opened out its palms to her. At the same time a second pale figure stepped down out of the pickup. It too spoke.
“Weemean.”
“Janet,” Bill said behind her. “This isn’t fucking Close Encounters. Get back here.”
“Weemean,” a third one said as it stepped out of the shed. Two more came into the yard from out of the trees. Once all five were together, they advanced on Janet.
She tried to force down her fear; the nights spent hiding under covers, too scared to look out in case the Grays had come for her. There were other times too, when she’d run home in the gloom, scared that a sudden bright light overhead might lead to her being sucked up and away into the sky. Silly girlish worries from a time long past…but all too real here in the dark of the yard.
“Janet!” Bill said, and she heard the fear and worry in that one word. She ignored him, and held her ground as the Grays gathered around her.
“We mean you no harm,” she said softly.
“Weemean,” the five said in unison.
The closest one reached out and stroked Janet’s arm. Pain hit her, as if a red-hot poker had been drawn across her skin, the burn coming up immediately in a six-inch, pencil-thin line. She drew her arm away as another Gray reached for her.
“Weemean,” the five said, and closed in. One of them grabbed her on the wrist, long fingers circling all the way round, bringing a new flare of pain that was almost unendurable. Janet screamed.
The five Grays backed off, as if confused.
“Weemean,” they said.
Janet could barely speak through the pain.
“What do you want?”
She felt Bill’s hand on her shoulder.
“What do you want?” she shouted.
They cocked their heads to one side.
“Weemean.”
They came forward again, long fingers reaching out, as if needing to touch her. When Bill dragged her away, she let him do it.
“Weemean,” the Grays said, and came after them.
“Eat shit and die,” a voice replied. Charlie stood in the doorway, waving the flashlight, passing the beam over the pale forms. Where the light hit they melted and flowed. Thin wisps of dark smoke rose from the liquefying flesh.
“Weemean,” they whispered, and as one collapsed into a bubbling mess on the dirt. Within seconds there was nothing left of them, just wet ground and thin smoke that quickly dissipated in the breeze.
* * *
The ache in her arm from the two distinct burns didn’t start to ease until she’d swallowed three strong painkillers from her kit and downed a decent slug of JD. Even then the burns throbbed and beat beneath the bandages and salve she had applied. The wrist was the worst. Her flesh, what remained of it, had blistered and split—the marks where each of the thing’s fingers had gripped showed as bloody weals. She’d made sure Bill did not see the full extent of the damage as she bandaged it, but that didn’t stop him fretting over her.
“We need to get you over to the quarantine room,” Bill said. “They can take care of that…”
“I can take care of it myself,” she said, rather too sharply, and immediately regretted the look of pain she had brought to the sheriff’s face. “Look, Bill. If I go over there, I’d have to stay there. In case you haven’t noticed, nobody comes out. At least here we have a chance of responding if anything happens, if the hum comes back…”
She stopped, struck by a sudden thought.
I didn’t notice that.
Bill raised an eyebrow.
“I know that look. You
’ve thought of something?”
She nodded.
“There was no hum. When they came this time, there was no hum. Maybe the two phenomenon aren’t as closely linked as we thought?”
“Does that help us?”
“I don’t see how just yet. But it might.”
“Did you learn anything?”
She thought about that.
“Maybe,” she said, holding up her bandaged arm. “I don’t think they knew what they were doing. I didn’t get any impression they meant me harm.”
Bill shook his head.
“Apart from burning you to the bone, you mean?”
“As I said, I don’t think they meant it. I think they were trying to make contact.”
“Well, they did that well enough. What now?”
Janet realized something else. At some point, Bill had stopped being the titular person in charge, and the mantle had passed to her. Bill needed something to do, he just didn’t have any reference points in his past to tell him what that might be.
And neither do I.
But the sheriff was looking at her, still waiting for an answer.
“We don’t know how long we’ll be here,” she said. “Let’s see if we can rustle up some hot food and coffee. It could be a long night.”
That was enough to get Bill moving. She went after him, and together they made toast and enough coffee for two mugs for everybody should they want it. They set it out on the table they’d all sat at earlier. Fred and Sarah immediately started in on the toast, but Ellen Simmons, initially at least, seemed reluctant. She didn’t leave her seat in the corner.
“How do I know it’s not drugged? This could be a trick to make sure I go quietly to the CDC quarantine.”
Charlie came out from behind the bar with a fresh beer in his hand.
“Ellen, if we wanted you unconscious, we’d just hit you on the head. Come on over here and join us. I’ll even taste it first if you’re that paranoid?”
Hunger got the better of her, and Ellen Simmons finally joined them, sitting next to Charlie, the two of them sharing both toast and Charlie’s beer. They all ate sitting round the big table, and while it wasn’t exactly convivial, it was as close to routine as they had managed since the disaster unfolded.
The Hole Page 14