by Jeff Strand
Joey accelerated. "I'm not going to jail!" he shouted. It sounded very much like his attitude had become "Live fast, die young, and leave a corpse that got decapitated in a motorcycle crash with a police car." Not a good attitude. Benjamin didn't want to die with this asshole.
Benjamin swung his head to the left. The parasite struck the side of Joey's neck and wrapped around it. Benjamin scooted up close enough to turn the situation into a near-miss homosexual experience, then reached around to try to grab the baby. Joey slammed his head backwards, bashing the back of his skull against Benjamin's forehead, then slammed on the brakes as the parasite bit his neck.
He stopped the motorcycle and tried to pull the parasite free. "I'll kill the baby!" he shouted, as at least six cops pointed guns at him. "I'll do it!"
Benjamin couldn't speak and wasn't sure how to signal "I'm not with this guy!" He really didn't want to die in a hailstorm of bullets. If the parasite was so inclined as to chew through a really important part of Joey's neck, Benjamin would be cool with that.
Kill, Benjamin thought with as much intensity as he could muster. Kill. Kill, kill, kill, kill...
Joey's scream started low, then rose in pitch, as if his vocal cords were being eaten through. He spun around to face Benjamin. The parasite ripped open his throat.
"I...I..." said Joey, gargling blood.
The parasite retreated into Benjamin's throat, taking the flap of Joey's flesh with it.
Joey held his finger under the fountain of blood with an almost childlike curiosity. Benjamin tensed up, ready to lunge for the baby.
"Don't...want...last act...to be...killing a...baby..." Joey said. He handed the infant to Benjamin, then toppled over the side of the motorcycle and was still.
The cops moved forward.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Benjamin lay on the hospital bed, heavily bandaged and sore in every place it was possible for the human body to be sore except maybe two or three of them, but feeling surprisingly upbeat considering that he still had a scary oversized parasite in his stomach.
Margaret and Cindy sat next to him. Margaret had sprained her ankle in the parachute landing, but they'd both survived and would have amazing stories to tell after the whole annoying parasite issue got sorted out. A nurse had applied some cream to Benjamin's sores that was rather soothing but which Cindy claimed "smelled worse than a rotting monkey." They'd briefly discussed Cindy's lack of reference for making a rotting monkey comparison, until Margaret politely asked them to change the subject.
There were a lot of questions to answer, and a couple of stern looking FBI agents guarded the door to his hospital room, but the interrogation could wait. The feds probably just didn't want to get too close to him and his open sores. Benjamin had looked in a mirror and declared himself "one hundred percent grotesque."
At least he'd found out that the old man who'd been gut-shot at the motel had survived and was now in stable condition. Benjamin wasn't sure if it was appropriate to send flowers or not. He'd let Margaret make that decision.
Dr. Konratcher, who sort of looked like an alien with regular human flesh tones, walked into the room. "How are you feeling, Mr. Wilson?"
"Dandy and jolly."
"I have good news for you. Some scientists know exactly what it is we're dealing with here, and a representative is on the way up as we speak."
"Scientists?"
"Government scientists. Top secret stuff. I'm not supposed to ask too many questions." He winked at Cindy. "Pretty exciting for your dad, huh?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"Right. Well, anyway, he'll be here in a moment."
A short, pudgy man in a black suit walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. "Hello, Mr. Wilson," he said. "I understand you're having an interesting life."
"You could say that."
"And I did. Mr. Wilson, I'm not in the business of creating panic. But I'm also not in the business of reducing panic needlessly. To be perfectly blunt, I'm amazed that you're alive. I'll be even more amazed an hour from now. Or, less amazed, if you're dead. We have a helicopter waiting, and I'll need you to sign this authorization form." The man handed Benjamin a stack of papers the size of War and Peace. "Normally I would suggest that you read any document carefully before signing it, but not today."
"How do I know I can trust you?" Benjamin asked. "How do I know that my well-being won't come in second to preserving the specimen? At least the doctors here have no interest in the parasite—they'll just throw it away when they're done."
"With all due respect to the medical professionals here, who I'm sure are excellent at their jobs, if they operate on you, you're dead. Messy dead."
Benjamin wasn't real inclined to leave the safety of the hospital, but he did want expert attention. This wasn't exactly your standard-issue intestinal bug. "Can't they come here?"
The man shook his head. "The instruments they need to get that beast out of you aren't portable. Time is running out, Mr. Wilson. It'll be a ghastly way to die."
Benjamin sighed. He really hoped he wasn't simply starting up a new series of misadventures. However, dying on the operating table after going through all of this would be a spectacular bummer. "Okay. Fine."
* * *
Julie was sitting in the helicopter when they boarded. "Nice seeing you again," Benjamin said, without much enthusiasm, sitting down next to her.
"Likewise. Have you got any parachute endorsement offers yet?"
"Not yet. The marketing department probably wouldn't want me getting blood all over them."
"Makes sense."
"I'm glad you didn't shoot anybody this time."
"Yeah, I decided to take a more subtle route. I called in some favors."
"Why didn't you call in these favors the first time?"
"Because now I have to share the money and the credit. It pisses me off."
They didn't talk much during the rest of the flight.
* * *
The helicopter landed a couple of hours later and they moved to a spacious black car. Benjamin's comfort level faded a bit after he was informed that he had to wear a cloth sack over his head. Though he understood the rationale (the cloth sack made it unnecessary to kill him for knowing the route to the top secret laboratory) he still had trust issues with the whole endeavor. But he didn't protest as much as he wanted to, because he really, really, really wanted that parasite out of his stomach.
Julie got him out of the car, walked him in a few circles, then took him inside, walked him down a short hallway, and sat him down. When she removed the sack, Benjamin squeezed his eyes shut from the sudden burst of light, feeling like a Mogwai. When his eyes adjusted, he saw that he was in a small, brightly lit room with white tile walls. An operating table took up much of the floor space.
A man sat on a stool next to the table. His face was covered with white gauze, with only his eyes visible.
"Welcome to the lab," he said. "My name is Hank. Normally Paul, my boss, would be handling this sort of thing, but he took an emergency vacation. We've had some big-time challenges lately, experimental cow-related stuff, and I wouldn't even be working today if you weren't here, so bear with me." He looked closely at Benjamin's face. "So the Piranha Project did this to you, huh? Pretty much what we expected."
"Good to know."
"To be perfectly honest, I'm surprised we didn't abandon this project sooner."
"What do you mean, abandon?" Julie asked.
"Well, the project had potential in the concept stage, but as I'm sure you saw, the end result had no real practical usage. We've turned our attention elsewhere."
Julie stared at him. "Maybe we're talking about two different things. I was under the impression that this had, like, worldwide consequences."
Hank laughed out loud. "Worldwide consequences, and you think they sent you to retrieve it?"
"Yes," said Julie, speaking very slowly. "That is what I thought."
"No, no, no. We have much more important
concerns. Your assignment was a distraction, to keep certain interested parties away from the truly valuable specimen."
Julie stood up. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Of course not. That would be tasteless. Sort of like if you made a joke about how my face got chewed up by a goddamn cow. There's no shame in being a distraction job. You did it very well. All the shooting and car crashes and stuff. Your assignment was totally successful. And Benjamin is alive, which is a surprising little bonus."
"You mean I was supposed to die?" Benjamin asked.
"Not supposed to. Expected to. There's a difference."
"This is horseshit," said Julie. "Total horseshit."
Hank shrugged. "It is what it is. Would you like to keep whining about it, or would you like me to get the specimen out of your friend?"
"The friend one," said Benjamin, quickly.
"I should rip your head off," said Julie. "Rip it right off. Slowly. Do everything I can to make it hurt more. I'll use a meat hook. Do you have a meat hook? In a closet somewhere, maybe? No, no—two of them. Two meat hooks. One for each ear."
Benjamin tried to pat her reassuringly on the shoulder. "Uh, Julie—?"
"But I won't tear off your head first, because that would kill you and end your pain," Julie noted. "I'm going to start with your toenails. Meat hooks through the toenails. That'll hurt."
"Julie, could you rant later?" Benjamin asked.
"Yeah, whatever."
"Thanks."
Hank smiled, or at least seemed to smile through his gauze, and patted the operating table. "Take off your shirt and hop on up."
Benjamin removed his shirt and climbed onto the operating table. He lay on his back, trying to focus on deep breathing. "Do you have to cut it out or can we just coax it out?" he asked.
Hank shook his head. "Cutting it out would require too much cutting. We're going to pull it out."
"We actually already tried that," said Benjamin.
"Oooh. I bet that hurt. It has hooks, you know."
"I know."
"It won't come out by simply tugging. It would be nice if we could simply cut off its head and then drag its carcass out of you, but there's a forty-percent chance that this would cause it to expand all of the hooks at once, shredding your insides."
"I see."
"So what we have to do, and I'm sorry to say that it's going to be slightly uncomfortable, is zap it out." Hank stood up, walked over to a cabinet, and pulled out the top drawer.
"What exactly does 'zap it out' mean?" Benjamin inquired.
"Just what it sounds like." Hank took a black box, about the size of a brick, out of the drawer. A pair of copper wires dangled from the sides, along with a cord to an electrical outlet. Hank placed the box on the operating table and plugged it in. The box began to emit a soft, spooky hum.
"Are your nipples sensitive?" Hank asked.
"Uh, I dunno...average?"
Hank pinched a metal clip on Benjamin's left nipple. He winced in pain. This was definitely headed in a bad direction.
"Are you sure there are no other solutions?" Benjamin asked.
"Oh, there are plenty of other solutions," said Hank, attaching a clip to Benjamin's other nipple. "But they're worse than this. Trust me."
"Give me an example."
"Explosives."
"Okay. So what do I do?"
"Just hold still." Hank pointed to another cabinet. "Julie, you'll find a pair of work gloves in the second drawer. When the specimen emerges, grab it and pull as hard as you can, but when I tell you to stop, stop immediately. Got it?"
Julie nodded. "Got it." She went over to the cabinet to retrieve the gloves.
"How bad is this shock going to be?" Benjamin asked.
"Have you ever rubbed your feet across a thick carpet and then touched a doorknob?" Hank asked.
"Yeah."
"Imagine a pair of King Kong feet rubbing across a football field carpet and touching Godzilla's doorknob, but instead of a single quick shock it's an extended one."
"That doesn't sound like fun."
"Well, no, it wouldn't."
Benjamin steeled himself for the voltage. "Okay. Bring it on."
Julie put on the gloves. "Remember," Hank told her, "stop pulling when I tell you. If we keep the current going too long, it will kill him."
"So how many different ways are there for me to die on this table?" Benjamin asked.
"Oh, don't worry—if you die in some other way besides the parasite or the electricity, I'll be very surprised."
"Fair enough."
"In theory, I should strap you down to make sure you don't flail around too much, but I want you to be able to defend yourself in case something goes wrong. Are you ready?"
"What do you think might go wrong?"
"I'm not sure. We don't do a lot of parasite removals here. Are you ready?"
"You're absolutely sure you don't have something like a parasite-killing tablet I could swallow, right? Maybe some sort of gelcap?"
Hank shrugged. "Battery acid might do the trick, if you want to gulp down some of that."
"I should stop asking questions and let you zap me, right?"
"Yes. Three...two...one..."
Hank turned the dial.
Benjamin's entire body immediately tensed up as the voltage rushed through him. "Motherfuckmotherfuckmotherfuck!"
"Do you feel anything?"
"I feel the shocks!"
"Is the specimen moving?"
"Just my guts being rearranged!"
"I'm going to have to turn it past '1' then."
Benjamin hurled a few more obscenities at Hank as the current increased in intensity. Ironically, this had been one of his fantasies while browsing Home Depot, albeit a short-lived one.
"Feel it moving yet?" Hank asked.
Benjamin shook his head and tried to think happy thoughts to keep his body from exploding.
"Okay, here's 3," said Hank, turning the dial one more click. Benjamin felt like his brain was going to pop out of his ears like a really big zit. However, he also felt his unwelcome stomach resident squirming. The parasite's head protruded from his mouth.
"Got it!" Julie said, grabbing its head.
"Pull! Pull!"
Using both hands, Julie pulled the parasite out of Benjamin's mouth, getting about two feet of it out before Hank turned off the current. It thrashed and twisted in her hands, but she managed to sustain her grip on it, even when it bit down on her thumb through the glove.
"Don't let it go!" Hank warned.
"I'm not gonna let it go!"
"Ready for the next zap?"
Benjamin wasn't entirely certain that he was ready for the next zap, but the parasite's violent thrashing was forcing his head to bob in a nodding motion. Hank turned the current back on. Benjamin screamed several curses that were incoherent but no less heartfelt because of it.
Julie pulled out another two feet of wriggling parasite. Its surface was slick with slime (well, probably mucus—Benjamin liked to think that his body didn't contain actual slime) and it wrapped itself around Julie's arm as she tugged.
"We're almost there, I hope!" Hank announced, turning off the current. "Benjamin, give me a thumbs-up when you're ready for the next blast."
Benjamin gave him the finger.
"Ow!" Julie exclaimed, as it bit her again.
"Don't kill it," said Hank. "Remember the spikes."
He resumed the current once more. Benjamin's nipples felt like they'd been char-grilled.
Friends...
Uh, no. I don't think so. You're a fair-weather friend at best. Get the hell out of my stomach and intestinal tract. You're no longer welcome.
Julie continued pulling. The squid-like legs were now visible.
"We're almost done!" said Hank. "Don't give up now!"
The parasite bit Julie on the inside of her arm, hard enough to instantly draw blood. She winced, lost her grip, and frantically tried to grab the parasite again as it slithered b
ack down Benjamin's throat. He wrapped both hands around it, but its slimy flesh slipped through his fingers within seconds and its head popped back into his mouth and completely out of sight.
There was a long moment of silence.
"I'm really sorry," Julie finally said.
"That's okay," said Benjamin, a few seconds before he succumbed to tears.
"Don't cry," said Julie, stroking his forehead. "It'll be fine. It's almost over."
"It would've been over if you hadn't let go!"
"Don't yell at me! You hold on to a parasite while it's devouring your arm!"
"It wasn't devouring it! It was biting it! Do you know how many times I've been bit these past couple of days?"
"You don't appreciate anything I've done for you!"
"With good cause!"
"Okay," said Hank, "releasing aggression is healthy and recommended, but not right now. Benjamin, can you handle three to four more zaps?"