Bad Stacks Story Collection Box Set

by Scott Nicholson

  They had found their killer.

  Instantly, Raines began considering what it would take to get there. It was about two klicks to the excavation site. Considering the weather and the condition of the countryside, it would take him some time, even if he took one of the unit’s ATVs. That would mean he would need Simmons to keep the drone in place and keep the creature under surveillance until he could get out to the site.

  “How long can you keep the drone in the air?”

  “Another forty minutes or so,” Simmons answered, after looking at the fuel readouts on the control panel.

  “Good enough,” Raines replied, turning away and heading for where his equipment was stacked beside the door.

  “Hey, wait a minute!” cried Simmons. “You’re not really going out there alone, are you?”

  Raines snorted. “Do you see anyone else lining up to volunteer?” he replied sarcastically. He pulled on his cape and picked up his weapon. “I’ll take one of the ATCs. That should allow me to get there in about 20 minutes, even with the weather. I need you to stay here and let me know over the radio if that thing starts to move. Without you, I’ve got no way of knowing what its up to until I get too close to do anything about it. Got it?”

  Simmons nodded and caught the headset that Raines tossed to him.

  “Don’t leave me hanging out there, Simmons, “ Raines warned as he went out the door.

  The rain had picked up in the last hour and was now coming down fairly hard. Raines hoped it wouldn’t cause any difficulties for the drone. Wrapped in his poncho, he passed through the camp like a wraith in the night, nothing more than a dark shadow against an even darker background. He entered the hanger that had been erected to serve as a vehicle pool and signed himself out one of the ATCs. The private on duty didn’t ask to see his orders, no doubt figuring that no one in their right mind would go out on their own initiative after all that had happened.

  The same held true for the men stationed at the perimeter. After a perfunctory check of his ID they let him out the side gate without any trouble. With a quick turn of the throttle, Raines headed overland.

  He’d considered taking the main road, which would have gotten him to the site faster, but he couldn’t quite break the years of habit that told him to remain undercover and out of sight. His pace was slower off-road than he would have preferred due to the weather and the condition of the landscape, but he felt that was a fair trade for his peace of mind and the decreased chance of falling victim to a sniper’s bullet.

  Not that anyone but a maniac would be out on a night like this, he thought, grinning wildly and enjoying every minute of it. The rain pelted down with savage ferocity, whipped into a frenzy by the wind and the motion of his ATC. It wormed its way past the protection of his poncho to run down across his clothing beneath, leaving him cold and wet soon after setting out. Overhead, the thunder boomed and the lightning flashed, robbing him of his night vision at regular intervals.

  The ground here had been carved into a seemingly endless series of trenches that stretched for miles, evidence of how savagely contested this area had been prior to the arrival of the UN peacekeeping forces. Raines was repeatedly forced to backtrack to avoid the shell craters and other debris that littered the landscape. At one point, riding along the berm between two deep trenches, he almost lost control when the ATC’s tires slid sideways in the mud and left one rear tire hanging suspended over thin air, but a quick burst from the throttle allowed him to recover control sufficiently to escape the danger.

  Fifteen minutes into the journey, a figure suddenly loomed out of the darkness in front of Raines as he crested a small rise. Raines expertly slewed the vehicle sideways with one hand and brought his weapon to bear with the other, but stopped himself from firing at the last second when he realized the figure wasn’t moving. A closer examination showed it to be a scarecrow dressed in a soldier’s uniform, bound to a crude wooden cross to hold it upright. Dozens more were revealed on the plain before him in the next flash of lightning. He could feel the weight of their stares like a physical thing, heavy and menacing in the gloom.

  For one long moment, he considered turning back, rather than making his way through that grim, silent company, but then his sense of purpose reasserted itself. Raines remembered how the Allies had used the same technique to make their numbers seem higher in the trenches along the Maginot Line in World War One. He wasn’t about to let a bunch of scarecrows turn him away from the job that needed to be done.

  Even if some of them look suspiciously like real bodies instead of stuffed dummies.

  He slowly began to wind the ATC through the silent throng as quickly as he dared. On more than one occasion, he could hear the crunch of bones beneath his tires, but he did not stop to see who it was lying forgotten in the mud of this aging battlefield. These were not his comrades, and deaths months old had no interest for him.

  Not knowing how good the creature’s senses were, and not wanting to give it advance notice of his arrival, Raines used the GPS mounted on the handlebars of the ATC and stopped the vehicle several hundred yards away from the excavation site.

  “Simmons, this is Raines. Can you hear me, Simmons?”

  Simmons voice came back to him immediately, the high quality communications gear making it seem as if the other man were whispering in his ear. “I’m here, Raines. The thing hasn’t moved. It should be about 300 yards ahead of you, on the other side of that small hill to your right.”

  Raines looked around until he had spotted the landmark. “Got it,” he replied. “I’m headed in.” Dismounting, he slid his Mark 23 combat pistol from its shoulder holster, chambered a round, and headed out on foot toward the site.

  The mud was thick and pulled at his feet, while the rain and steadily increasing wind conspired to push him back in the direction he had come. He’d been trained by the best the US military had to offer, however, and very quickly crossed the remaining distance to the foot of the hill.

  Speaking in a voice no louder than a whisper, Raines asked “Simmons?”

  The other’s voice came back to him once more. “Still there.”

  Raines clicked his mike in reply. He bent lower to the ground and slowly made his way up the side of the hill. Just below the top, he lay face down in the mud and inched the rest of the way to the top. With all the skill his training had given him, he slowly raised his head and peered over the top of the hill.

  The creature was right where Simmons had said it was, less than 150 feet away on the other side of the excavation. It was turned partially away from him and was consumed with its dinner.

  Raines slowly brought his arms up over the edge and pointed his weapon at its target. He got himself into a comfortable firing position, and then waited for the next crash of thunder. As soon as it began, he thumbed the switch that activated the targeting laser. A thin red beam of light shot across the watery grave and came to rest on the left side of the creature’s chest.

  Raines didn’t waste any more time; with the ease of long practice he fired two swift shots.

  Both bullets found their mark.

  Without a sound, the thing toppled over facedown into the mud.

  “Nice shooting!” Simmons’ voice whispered in his ear.

  “Thanks,” Raines replied dryly.

  It had been far easier than he’d thought.

  “I’m just about out of fuel on the bird,” Simmons said. “Unless you object, I’m gonna bring her back in.”

  “Go ahead. Nothing more to see out here anyway. I’m gonna grab the body and head back to camp. I’ll meet you at the motor pool in about half an hour.”

  Raines heard the hiss of an empty radio channel and turned off his headset. With his weapon held casually in one hand, he carefully made his way back down the hill in the direction he had come, and then walked around the perimeter of the excavation site until he stood next to the creature’s corpse.

  Squatting down on his heels, Raines reached out with one hand and turned the
thing over.

  This close, Raines did not need any high-tech equipment to recognize what he was looking at it. His Polish grandmother would have crossed herself at the sight and flashed the sign to ward off the devil. She would have called it an upior, but Raines was happy enough calling it by its American name.

  Ghoul.

  The creature’s skin was wrinkled and gray, as if it had spent a long time submerged underwater. Its nose was partially decayed, resembling a snout now more than a pair of human nostrils. Its teeth were yellowed and roughly filed sharper to help it tear the meat of its prey. At top its misshapen head, a few straggling wisps of thin blonde hair were plastered down by the rain against its skull. Its eyes were closed, as if it were sleeping.

  The bullets from Raines’ gun had entered just to the left of the sternum and had blown a fist-sized exit hole right about where the thing’s heart used to be.

  “Well my friend,” Raines said to the corpse. “Whatever you were, ghoul or not, now you’re nothing more than one dead critter.”

  Raines reached out to remove the dog tags from around the thing’s neck.

  Before he could touch them, the creature’s eyes snapped open.

  Overhead, the lightning flashed, and by its light Raines could see the thing’s eyes were a strange yellow hue in which sat a blood red pupil. All the world’s malevolence seemed to be bottled up inside those eyes and for the first time in what seemed like years Raines grew scared.

  With lighting speed, the creature grabbed Raines about the throat with one clawed hand and with the other knocked his pistol out of his hand.

  He watched in shocked horror as his weapon sailed through the air and landed with a splash out in the middle of the mass grave.

  It disappeared from sight before the lightning could flash again.

  The creature then leaned forward and savagely bit Raines’ right ear off.

  Ignoring the pain and the sudden surprise of the attack, Raines didn’t hesitate to counter. His left hand flashed out and struck the creature on the pressure point below the rib cage while his right quickly sought the combat knife strapped to his right calf.

  It was a good thing the knife was where it was supposed to be, however, for the percussive strike with his left hand was an absolute failure.

  Instead of immobilizing his opponent as it was designed to do, Raines found his hand buried wrist deep inside the creature’s ribcage instead.

  The ghoul ignored the attack, clamping its free hand around his neck alongside the other and squeezing them both tight, trying to cut off his air. The thing’s hot, fetid breath splashed across his face.

  Raines jerked his knife free and shoved it into the ghoul’s side.

  It had no more effect than the strike with his hand.

  It was at that point that Raines started to panic. The creature’s hands were slowly squeezing the life out of him. He’d been unable to draw a clean breath for almost a minute now and in his exhausted state his vision was starting to gray out around the edges from lack of oxygen to his brain. He had to do something quickly to break free.

  Raines pulled both of his hands free and desperately struck upward at the creature’s arms.

  The ghoul snarled in response, the sound like tearing fabric, but refused to let go.

  Desperate now, Raines did the only thing he could think of.

  He twisted sideways and threw himself, and the ghoul holding onto him, into the water-filled pit beside them.

  The surprise move did what his attacks had not been able to do. For just a second the ghoul’s hands relaxed their grip as it tried to react to its new surroundings.

  That was all the time Raines needed.

  He pushed away from the thing, then ducked beneath the reach of its arms and struck out for the bottom in an attempt to get away from it. He had gone no more than a few feet, however, when he swam straight into the submerged pile of corpses the forensic team had been unable to catalogue and remove.

  The pile slipped free with the impact of his body from whatever had been holding them beneath the surface. Raines suddenly found himself tangled in a confusing whirl of arms, legs, and torsos. He thrashed against them, trying to work his way free, only to feel a hand with needle sharp claws clamp itself around his left ankle.

  The ghoul had found him again.

  As he was pulled away from the drifting corpses, the ghoul struck again, this time opening a deep gash in his rib cage several inches in length. Raines could feel the blood rushing out of his body and knew he couldn’t survive much longer.

  He thrashed and flailed his arms, trying to work his way free, and quite by accident discovered that he was still holding on to his combat knife. With strength born of desperation and a sudden overwhelming desire not to die here in the disease-infested waters of a mass grave in a country that he couldn’t care less about, Raines struck downward with the weapon once more.

  This time, his aim was true.

  The knife sunk to the hilt through the rotten tissue of the creature’s skull and pierced what was left of its brain.

  Instantly, it let him go.

  Knowing he had only seconds left to survive, Raines struck out for the surface and burst upward into the night air in unconscious imitation of the corpses the ghoul had harvested for food.

  Gasping, Raines dragged himself over to the shoreline and several feet away from the water before collapsing into the mud.

  Second later he passed out.

  ***

  Raines regained consciousness in the camp infirmary, his chest and head swathed in bandages. A nurse stood by his bedside taking his blood pressure. When she realized he had come to, she told him to lie still and ran to get the doctor.

  Lying there, Raines could see he was in a small ward. Only three of the 10 beds were occupied, including the one in which he lay. A man with a leg up in traction was in the last bed in the row, on the far side of the infirmary, absorbed in reading a book. The bed directly next to Raines was also occupied, this one by a man who appeared comatose, his face covered with a breathing device. The whine and hiss of his mechanical breather accompanied the rise and fall of his chest.

  Raines’ attention was drawn away from the man by the sound of the infirmary door opening.

  “Well now, “ said the physician as he entered the room, a wide smile on his face. “Nice to see you’ve rejoined the living.”

  Raines didn’t appreciate the joke, but he was too weak to protest. His limbs felt strangely heavy and his throat was incredibly parched. He managed to croak out a request for water and the doctor sent the nurse to fetch a cup of ice chips for him. After a few sips he was able to speak more clearly.

  “How long?” he asked, his voice like gravel.

  “Two weeks,” replied the doctor, cheerily. “The morning after you went AWOL, a long-range patrol found you alongside the excavation at site Kilo Two Zero. Your wounds were already filled with a raging infection, particularly that deep gash in your ribs. Frankly, I’m amazed that you didn’t succumb to sepsis or the plague, considering where they found you. Just what on earth were you doing out there?”

  The doc’s cheery nature and casual reference to his having been AWOL set Raines self-preservation mode into high gear. The only person who knew what he’d been up to had been Simmons; so far, it seemed as if he hadn’t talked. Which meant that if Raines kept his mouth shut now, he could probably find a way to get out of this without any major problems.

  Raines mumbled something unintelligible, dropped his head back onto the pillows, and pretended to drop back off to sleep without answering the doctor’s question. The ruse seemed to work, for the other man stood there for a moment longer and then softly ordered the nurse to come get him when Raines had woken up again. He had only taken a few steps toward the door, however, when an alarm started blaring from the bed next to Raines.

  Raines opened his eyes slightly and watched as the doctor and his nurse rushed over to the patient. It appeared to Raines that the man had gone into
cardiac arrest and the arrival of the defibrillator moments later confirmed that suspicion. The fight to resuscitate the man went on for over 20 minutes, Raines surreptitiously watching all the while, but eventually the staff gave up their efforts and left the man’s body, and Raines, alone.

  In the quiet following their departure, Raines actually did fall asleep, his injured body not yet fully up to the task of keeping him awake. His sleep was full of uneasy dreams.

  When he awoke again, it was night. Except for a few small utility lights and the illuminated dials of various pieces of medical equipment here and there about the ward, the room was dark. Surprisingly, Raines could still see fairly well. The injured soldier down at the end of the ward was fast asleep, blissfully snoring away. The body in the bed next to Raines was still there, though now a sheet had been used to cover it with the exception of one errant foot that had somehow slipped out from beneath it to hang limply over the side of the bed.

  Raines lay awake for several long moments without moving, trying to gauge how he felt.

  The long wound in his side where the creature’s claws had torn through his flesh was tender and sore, but did not hurt as much as he had expected it to. The skin around it itched horribly, however, and he wondered if he was having some adverse reaction to the anti-infectants they must have spread liberally around the wound. He resisted the urge to scratch for only a few moments and then gave in to the need with a deep, perverse pleasure. His fingers dug into the flesh around the wound and left several long scratches in his skin, but he barely noticed. He was too intent in finding some relief from the itching.

  He noticed a small washroom in one corner of the ward and decided to see for himself just how bad things were. Using the bed’s handrail, Raines pulled himself into a sitting position and then swung his legs out from under the sheet and over the edge of the bed. The floor was cool on his bare feet. He waited a moment, double-checking he was up to this so soon after awakening from what was obviously a coma-like sleep, and then carefully pulled himself to his feet.