Backwoods

by sara12356

  “Wow.” He tried to feign the appropriate note of enthusiasm. “That sounds like fun.”

  In the weeks since his return, Andrew had been keeping an eye on the internet, straining for any hint of news from the Appalachian region that might give him a clue as to what might have happened to Prendick.

  A containment crew was dispatched from the moment we learned of Specialist Santoro’s survival, Captain Peterson had told him. Which meant that Prendick had, in all likelihood, been freed from his prison inside the garage. Suzette had told him the screamers would suffocate within a week, that the virus would cause growths to block their airways, but Andrew was no longer so sure.

  Search Continues for Missing Hunters. That had been the headline on Google News, cached from the Times WV newspaper online edition two and a half weeks ago. The WV stood for West Virginia and the hunters who were being sought had disappeared from the heavily forested area surrounding the small town of Elkins in this very same state.

  “How’s your ankle?” Alice asked him over the phone.

  “Getting better.” As he spoke, he tilted his head back, took a long drink of beer, then looked at his outstretched leg, wiggling his foot experimentally. “A couple more weeks, and they think I can lose the cast.”

  When Prendick had shot him, the bullet had ruptured his Achilles tendon, among other things. The moon boot from the hospital in Pikeville had been replaced with a plaster cast after he’d been hospitalized for more reconstructive orthopedic surgery in Pittsburgh. He’d worn the cast for several weeks, transitioning only recently into the walking variety that looked better equipped for hitting the ski slopes than the sidewalk. But his occupational and physical therapists had both been pressuring him to walk as often as he could, forcing upon him a daily regimen of exercises to support and strengthen the repaired tendon.

  “Does it hurt?” she asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “Liar.”

  His mother had come to stay with him upon his release from the hospital, and had only returned to Alaska a few days earlier. To his absolute astonishment, his father had flown in from Anchorage, as well, and Katherine had told him that Eric had kept a nearly constant vigil at his bedside during his first few days in the hospital, when he’d been in and out of surgery, heavily sedated.

  Eric had come to the apartment only once, and if Andrew had answered the door himself things might have wound up differently. As it turned out, Katherine was with him, and she had let Eric inside. Andrew had hobbled in from the kitchen on the damnable crutches he’d been forced to use for a time, and he’d stopped in the living room, staring at his father face to face for the first time since that awful night at the Pagoda Restaurant.

  “Dad. Hey,” he’d said, a non-confrontational greeting he’d since come to blame on the Percocet he’d still been taking pretty regularly for pain.

  “I brought you some kung pao pork,” Eric had replied, looking anxious, as if expecting Andrew to throw another punch at him. He held a grease-spotted white paper sack in his hand, Chinese take out. “You…uh, used to like it best, you always said.”

  Andrew had shrugged, the crutches digging ruthlessly into the meat of his armpits. “I still do,” he’d said, and that was it. The big reconciliation with his dad. It wasn’t like they’d gone back to the way things were before, or like that night in North Pole had never happened, but it had been a fresh start, in any case. For both of them.

  On the phone to Alice, he said, “How about you? Still having bad dreams?”

  Though he heard only silence on the other end of the line, in his mind, he could see her retreating into herself, her bright expression faltering, her smile growing slack. She’ll shrug her shoulders once, he thought, and drop her eyes down to the floor. And I’ll have to coax her back now, find a way to draw her out.

  “Never mind,” he said. “Tell me more about this horse of yours. What’d you say her name was, Sunset? Sunrise?”

  Another silent moment, then Alice said, “Sunshine.” And with that, she returned to him, emerging from the shadows into which even passing mention of Kentucky had forced her to retreat. “She’s a quarter horse, chestnut colored with dark brown mane and tale. She has a white star on her forehead. She likes it if I scratch her there.”

  “She sounds terrific,” he told her with a smile.

  Were Dead Fowl Mutilated or Killed By Hunters? read another news headline, linking to an online article about a string of Canadian geese carcasses found in the wooded region outlying Horse Shoe Run, West Virginia in the expansive Monongahela National Forest.

  And another from three days earlier: Body of Missing Hiker Found, describing the gruesome discovery of a woman’s eviscerated corpse following an exhaustive search in the Dans Mountain Wildlife Management Area outside of Lonaconing, Maryland.

  Andrew had pulled out his iPhone and carefully plotted each of these points into his mapping application. Just out of curiosity, he’d told himself, watching with a growing sense of dread as the points had seemed to indicate a very clear, if not direct line running north from the eastern edge of Kentucky toward New England.

  From right about where Moore’s DARPA facility was to here, as a matter of fact, he’d thought. It’s like someone or something is working its way from Kentucky to Pennsylvania.

  He doubted either Suzette or Moore had anticipated the voracity of the virus they’d custom designed, or just how accelerated the new tissue growth would become once it had overwhelmed its host. Who knew what Prendick was capable of anymore? Given the regenerative properties the virus had imbued him with had seemingly no limitations, Andrew was willing to bet that Prendick could have not only overpowered any additional troops deployed to the compound, but escaped them as well, retreating into the woods like the screamers of Alpha squadron before him.

  Where he could survive quite nicely for a long, long time, Andrew thought. Survive and hunt. And wait. And grow.

  “Next week is Family Weekend,” Alice told him. “They’re having a picnic on Saturday, with hot dogs and hamburgers. My teacher said we’re going to do silly sports, like run a race with your leg tied to your mom or dad’s, or while you’re carrying an egg in a soup spoon.” Her voice grew small, fragile. “Will you come?”

  He smiled. “Of course I will.”

  “Maybe you could bring Dani with you?” She phrased this as a question, left it hanging hopefully in the air.

  His smile faltered. “I don’t think so.”

  He hadn’t seen Dani since Pikeville, hadn’t talked to her, hadn’t as much as exchanged an email or text message. He’d gone as far as trying to look up her home phone number online, finding a listing for Antonio Fernando Santiago Santoro, with a spouse listed as Daniela E. He’d wondered what the E stood for, and felt a lingering melancholy to realize he’d probably never see or speak to her again to find out. He’d dialed the number a thousand times, but hung up before it would connect. The one time he’d let it ring through, a man had answered, presumably Tonio. Andrew had promptly hung up, abashed.

  She’s married, he kept telling himself. Let her go. Move on with your life, for God’s sake. She’s married.

  “But I’ll be there,” Andrew promised Alice. “Trust me, after all the practice I’ve had lately hopping around on one foot, we’re a shoo-in for first place in the three-legged race.”

  After hanging up the phone, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Like Alice, since leaving Kentucky, he, too, had suffered some moments of definitive night terror, with visions of Prendick’s outstretched tentacles, the sick, squelching sounds as they’d moved so fresh in his mind, he’d swear he could still hear them, see them, smell them in the apartment. He’d been spending more nights on the couch than in his bed since his homecoming from the hospital. He couldn’t explain why, but thought maybe being closer to the front door—an avenue of escape—made him feel better.

  He looked down at the iPhone in his hand, studying that grim little line of missing or mutilated bo
dies on the screen. The longer he studied it, the more troubled he felt. West Virginia. Maryland. Next up, Pennsylvania, he thought with an uneasy shiver and a glance at the nearest window, the imposing darkness that lay beyond. It’s like something following a trail. Hunting, almost. Working its way north. Working its way toward me.

  At the sound of a soft tapping sound from the front door to the apartment, he jerked in surprise, then had to laugh at himself. “Jesus,” he muttered, because he had himself jumping at shadows.

  Like Prendick’s going to slash his way through the forests to track me down, then bother to be polite and knock.

  With a groan, he lugged his ski boot down off the coffee table and hobbled to his feet. Truth be told, he felt ungangly in the walking cast, no matter how much therapy he had to adjust to it. He felt like Frankenstein’s monster as he lurched along. Pausing at the threshold, he leaned forward and peered through the security peep hole.

  “Dani?” he gasped, opening the door, not convinced he wasn’t seeing things. But there she was, standing at his door even though New York City was a good three hundred miles away from Johnstown, a four-hour drive at least. Dressed in a simple cream-colored sweater with a tan leather jacket shrugged atop and her lips unfurling in a hesitant smile, she was every bit as beautiful as he remembered.

  “I’m getting a divorce,” she said.

  That was it. No greeting, no ‘hey, partner,’ or ‘how’s it going’ or ‘nice to see you again, Andrew. ’ He blinked at her stupidly. “What?”

  Dani took a deep breath as if mustering resolve, then said, “The night we met, the night you crashed, I’d driven out to Powell’s Creek. That was the only town with a post office near the base. I’d written Tonio a letter, told him I want a divorce. I’d sealed it in an envelope with my wedding ring inside. I was on my way back when we almost hit each other.”

  Andrew stared at her, wordless. Her eyes had glossed over with tears and she swatted at them as they fell, smearing them against her cheeks, even as she laughed. “I keep thinking about what you said. How everything happens for a reason, and how I was yours. I think you’re mine, too, Andrew. My reason.”

  Without another word, she stood on her tiptoes, clasped his face between her hands and kissed him fiercely. He drew her against him, deepening the kiss, feeling her relax against him, her mouth opening in warm invitation. Her breasts pressed into his chest, her fingers splayed through his hair and for a long moment, they stood that way, tangled together in the corridor outside of his apartment.

  “So are you going to invite me in now?” Dani asked, her voice low and breathless when at last, they drew apart. “Or do you want me to rip your clothes off and do you right here in the hall?”

  ****

  Later that night, she jerked beside him with a frightened cry, her body wrenching so violently, so rigidly, at first he thought she was having a seizure. “No!”

  Startled awake, he reached for her. “Dani?”

  They had fallen asleep spooned together in his bed, the curves of her buttocks nestled in near-perfect complement with his groin and his arm draped across the slim indentation of her waist. Bleary and bewildered now, he started to sit up, but she struck at him, her hands balled into fists, her hair hanging in her face in a dark, disheveled tangle.

  “No,” she cried, her voice shrill with panicked terror. “No, no, get them off, get them off, get them off me!”

  “Dani.” He caught her by the wrists, and she struggled with him, wailing in frightened protest. “Dani!” Grasping her by the shoulders, he shook gave her a firm, forceful shake. “Dani, wake up.”

  At once, she fell still and blinked at him, her dark eyes round and glistening in the dim light coming through his window. A light tremor worked its way through her slender body, and when she spoke, her voice came out quavering. “Andrew?”

  She looked around, pushing her hair back behind her ears, getting her bearings. Slowly but surely, the frightened tension drained from her body, but the trembling remained, growing stronger, more insistent.

  “It’s alright,” he said, touching her face gently to draw her gaze.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and when he drew her into his arms, she crumpled against him and burst into tears. “I…oh, God, I thought I was back in the lab, back when they had me. When Langley had grabbed me and those things were wrapped all around me…those horrible things coming out of his body.”

  “It’s alright,” he said, holding her, rocking back and forth and kissing her head through her hair. “I promise, Dani. It’s over now.”

  At length, her sobs subsided and he felt her relax. Her shudders waned to trembles, then dissipated altogether, but still, Andrew rocked her in his arms. Again he thought of the map he’d made, the line that seemed to be working its way north, heading with a deadly, brutal accuracy.

  West Virginia, then Maryland, then on to Pennsylvania, he thought again. New York comes next, then east to Massachusetts. Hunting us down, one by one. First me, then Dani. Then Alice.

  The ones who had stopped Prendick. The ones who had escaped.

  He leaned down and kissed Dani’s brow. “It’s alright,” he whispered again. “It’s over now.” In his mind, he added: God, please, let it be over.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  “Definitely an author to watch.” That's how Romantic Times Book Reviews magazine describes Sara Reinke. New York Times bestselling author Karen Robards calls Reinke “a new paranormal star” and Love Romances and More hails her as “a fresh new voice to a genre that has grown stale.” Find out more about Reinke and her work at: www.sarareinke.com.

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE