by Terry Yates
After six rounds of pulling away five water dishes from the dog, Locklear had filled the empty bowl. They stepped out of the sauna, Joe in tow. He was soaking wet and was hyperventilating a little, but once he saw Lauren drop to her knees in front of him, he seemed to recover a little. Zora went back into the bathroom and emerged with a full bowl of clean, cold water, and set it down in front of the dog, who immediately began to lap it up.
“Let’s wait a few minutes before we give him another one,” Zora told her, smiling. We don’t want him to him to get sick.”
Lauren smiled and nodded as she continued to pet the thirsty dog’s head. When his water dish had been licked clean, Joe decided to lick Lauren’s face. She laughed and tried to pull her head away from his mighty tongue, but resistance was futile.
Relaxed now, Kyler looked down at his clothes, which were soaked. Wisps of steam were rising from his cuffs. He looked over at Zora. Oh great, he thought feeling another Zora fantasy coming on. Zora after a steam bath. That’s just great, Kyler, he thought to himself. Can’t you think about anything else, you perv?” Her clothes were skin-tight and her hair had frizzed out into long, thin ringlets that hung from the top of her head and dangled musically around her face. Once again, she busted him and smiled. Ariella had pulled her wet blond hair into a shoulder length ponytail. Locklear looked as if he was having the same fantasy that he was, but with Ariella standing in for Zora.
“What now?” Kyler asked, putting a stop to all fantasies.
“First,” Locklear started, “I’m going to change clothes and then take this to my lab and see if this dog saliva is going to be our salvation. It’ll take a few hours, so I suggest that everyone go and get into dry clothes, because as happy as I am with my new experiment, no one has figured out how to cure the common cold, which is what we are all going to catch if we don’t get out of these wet clothes.
For what seemed like the dozenth time in four days, Kyler was changing clothes. He was running out of lockers to get suitable clothing from. After he dressed, he ran into Potts and Sam, who were both carrying armloads of pistols and rifle clips, each loaded with different types of bullets. To Kyler, it looked like they had enough ammunition to fight an army. Normally, he would’ve helped them out, but he had patients to check on. Since they had found the pharmaceutical closet, minus syringes of course, he had been giving out morphine, darvon, and demurral fairly liberally because he had expected them to be rescued by now, but since they hadn’t been, and after what Potts had told him about the government possibly forgetting about them, he began to hold back a little on the amount of pills that he doled out, not to mention the fact that he didn’t want to contribute to anyone becoming a morphine, darvon or demurral addict.
When Kyler walked into the lab, Locklear’s experiment seemed to be in full swing. Sgt. Cohen, FranAnne, and Hawkins were awake now and had joined Potts at a lab table, of which there were three. The soldiers were at one table taking bullets apart. Locklear was at the other table with a small lab burner and was looking through a microscope. The third table was piled high with weapons of every type. Kyler didn’t know that there could be so many different types of guns. Under the table, he saw several dozen more guns that hadn’t been able to fit on the table.
He saw Lauren dressed in dry clothes that were far too big for her, sitting cross leg on the floor, Joe at her side. He was lying on his side, still panting a little, but doing okay for the most part.
“How’s he doing?” Kyler asked her, smiling.
“I think he’ll be okay,” she answered, looking at the dog and gently scratching one ear. I think he’s pooped.”
“As well he should be. He spent two days saving everyone’s lives. I’d say he deserves a rest. What about you?”
“I agree with your hypothesis, Doctor,” she said, now looking up at him, and beaming.
God love the Lauren O’Hearley’s of the world, he thought to himself as he bent down on one knee. They were always the children who were called “dorks” and “geeks” and “losers” and were generally ostracized throughout their youth. But what most people never seemed to understand was the fact that it was the Lauren O’Hearley’s of the world that cured diseases, became artists, actors, or writers. While the cool kids get the attention in youth, the geeks get it in adulthood. While the cool girl is drinking in the bars, and bitching about her no good, lousy, fourth husband, to her lover/soon to be fifth husband, the geek girl is discovering a new vaccine. The cool boy is now changing the oil in the limousine that is taking the geek boy to his sixth straight successful Broadway opening. Just months earlier, Kyler had been in a diner, where he ran into a couple that he had known in school. When they were in school the couple, who were boyfriend and girlfriend at the time, teased him incessantly about his acne or his skinny frame. He chatted with them for a moment, before moving on. As he was leaving, he heard the man, who thought that he was well out of earshot, say…”Remember when I used to kick his ass in fifth grade?” He then heard the wife retort sardonically…”Yeah…you kicked his ass right into being a doctor.” He laughed at that one as he walked out the door.
Kyler placed his hand on the dog’s nose. It was wet, which is generally a good sign. He peeled back the bandage on Joe’s side and looked at the sutures, which seemed to be holding fine. There was not much he could do about the canine’s torn ear other than keeping the infection out. He had a stitch above each eye. One looked like it could do with some tightening up or replacing, but the other was fine. Who had this dog belonged to? Kyler didn’t know if it was instinct or if someone had taught him to be loyal to humans. He knew that when hurricanes hit, sometimes people had to leave their pets to fend for themselves, especially when military planes are the only means of evacuation. Whoever lost this dog, will probably come back and look for him. Personally, he hoped that they didn’t. These two had become fast friends. Kyler was guessing that Joe was pretty much the only friend she had, although Michael Blum had seemed very kind to her lately and he was glad of that.
Kyler placed his hand on both of their heads and gave them each a scratch. Lauren giggled as the doctor stood up.
“Well, it looks like I’m not needed here,” he told Lauren.
As he began to walk away, Lauren reached up and grabbed his hand.
“You are needed here, Dr. Kyler,” she said, her smile gone, and those eyes of hers searching his. “I don’t think we would’ve gotten this far without you.” She gave his hand a tight squeeze.
“Well, thank you, Sweetie,” he said, blushing. “I’m going to need you to look after Joe some while I’m busy, okay?”
Lauren nodded her head.
“You need to dab a little Hydrogen Peroxide on his wounds every few hours, and you need to give him forty-two belly scratchings every twenty minutes. Use the fingernails. Dogs like that. “Joe,” he said, looking at the dog. “I’m gonna need you to give Lauren sixteen nose lickings every fifteen minutes. Ya’ll got that?”
“Yes, Doctor,” Lauren giggled. “Hydrogen Peroxide…belly scratchings…nose lickings…”
“Good,” he retorted, trying to sound like a sergeant major. “I’ll be off then. People to go…places to see…Goodbye, till we meet again.”
With this, he bowed and walked out of the lab. He heard Lauren giggle as he entered the hallway. He knew that this place was one place he wouldn’t be needed. He was happy that the dog seemed to be okay. There was nothing that could make you feel like a worse heel, than having to break a promise to a child. She’d probably have to see enough of those when she was older. With his stomach growling, he headed for the commissary and food.
CHAPTER 66
Kyler made himself a sandwich in the commissary kitchen. He had felt chills run up the back of his spine when walking into the cafeteria. Memories of the night before when Samantha Gould had tried to mop up the kitchen with his body, stopped him cold. He was surprised to find the place empty. He had expected to see at least someone in the dining hall, but there w
as no one and then it dawned on him that the deaths of Opal and Wilbur Munn had probably squelched a few palates. Not his, though. He was hypoglycemic and couldn’t forget about eating, because if he went too long without food, he would become nauseous and start to feel faint. It would always pass, but those waves of nausea could almost floor him at times.
He had made his way into the kitchen, keeping a watchful eye out for Samantha. He still hurt from the walloping she gave him last night, and he still had the mumbly-bumbly’s from the dream he had about her hovering over his bed…that is, if it was a dream. She had definitely given him a knowing smile when he had awakened.
After he ate his quintuple-decker sandwich, which consisted of regular ham sandwich ham, smoked turkey slices, pickle loaf and bologna, topped with cheese, and smeared with enough horseradish to clear the sinuses of every cokehead in Miami, Kyler walked back to the sleeping quarters. Only Zora, Gringo, Sylvia Morrison and, of course, Rob Olsen, were there.
“Where’s everyone else?” he asked them.
Zack, Michael, and Shelly went exploring together,” Zora answered, looking extremely refreshed after changing out of her wet clothes.
“Where’s Samantha?” Kyler asked Gringo, who was lying on his pillow, one hairy arm behind his head and the other at his side.
“She went to the shitter, I think,” Gringo answered. “Why?”
“I need to check her out later on,” he lied. He didn’t want to touch her again as long as he lived. He just wanted to know where she was, so that he could steer clear of her.
“I bet you would like to check her out, hey Doc?” Gringo laughed.
“I didn’t mean…”
“She is hot, ain’t she? Can you believe I’ve been tapping that since she was seventeen? Imagine her at seventeen? Yeah, she’s gonna make us a mint one day, Doc. Just you watch.”
“I will,” was all that he could think of to say. “How about you, Sylvia? How are you doing?” he asked her as she played blind man’s solitaire on her cot.”
“I’m fine, Doll,” she answered, not looking up.
“I suppose I should go check on Shelly and the baby,” he said as he moved toward Zora. “But if she’s keeping busy, I suppose it’ll be all right to wait awhile. Any idea what she’s using for diapers?” he asked.
“The last time I looked, she was using cloth dish rags and cut-up aprons, I believe,” Zora answered.
“Well then, since I don’t have anywhere to be for awhile, maybe you would…uh…like to take a stroll or something…if you want to…but you don’t have to…I just thought it would be fun…I mean…nice…or something.”
Zora looked up at him and smiled.
“I would love to take a stroll with you, Richard, but I thought I might go and watch them in the laboratory. I am a scientist, too, you know and I should probably be in there. But thank you.”
Kyler had not expected her to say no. When she did, it deflated him like a balloon in a room full of porcupines. Zora saw this and stood up. She put her arms around his waist and looked up into his eyes and smiled.
“We’ll go for a stroll later. Right now, why don’t you and I see what’s happening in the lab?” she said sexily.”
“That’ll be fine,” he squeaked, as she pressed harder against him.
CHAPTER 67
“God, these games are old,” Zack Olsen said, as he pushed another token into the Galaga video game.
“I’ve never heard of any of these,” Michael retorted, sitting up high on a barstool that Zack had found for him. “What’s an Arkanoid?”
“Dunno,” Zack answered, trying to blast one of the rockets that was rushing towards his rocket. “They’re a little simple, but they’re free, and that makes them more fun.”
The boys had found videogame tokens lying all over the small arcade room that Zack had stumbled upon while exploring the far hallways where Opal Munn had dragged herself to die. He had gotten tired of just sitting and watching his father, and he even got tired of thinking about his mother, so he took Dr. Kyler’s advice and gave himself a break by walking around and leaving his father asleep on the cot. Rob Olsen had been sleeping for almost eighteen hours now. The doctor’s medications must be working. It was better to see his father asleep than to watch his eyes rolling into the back of his head and drool dripping down his chin.
Both boys were trying extra hard to concentrate on their ancient videogames, because Shelly was sitting in a chair breastfeeding little Kayla. They had both been talking with her when she decided to pull the little bow at the top of her nightgown, and whip out a breast. Almost immediately, Michael’s eyes bulged so far out of his head that he thought that they might pop out and shoot across the room. Meanwhile, Zack, who had been speaking when the event occurred, stopped in mid sentence, his words trailing off like the fade out at the end of a song.
Shelly seemed oblivious to the sudden change in the boys’ facial expression, because her mind was on Marcus and Oliver. She needed to figure out a way to get back to the secret door. She still had the cardkey tucked safely away in her panties. She had removed the bandage on her neck after having checked her wound in the bathroom mirror that morning. It had almost healed. Marcus hadn’t bit her very hard, just enough to penetrate her skin, just enough to make her turn. Only a small, red circle about the size of a half-dollar remained. She wondered if Marcus had been angry with her last night for not making it to the hidden door. She’d had only a few minutes to look for the cardkey slot before the doctor and the others showed up and dragged her away. She would have to find a moment, the right moment, to get away from everyone. The doctor though, was a hard man to shake. He kept a close eye on her. He kept a close eye on everyone for that matter.
At first, she wasn’t sure if she was feeling anything change inside her, but as the day grew on, she began to feel a little stronger. She had been tired and sore ever since she had delivered the twins, but now…now, she felt wonderful. She began to wonder what life was going to be like for them now. Would they stay young forever? Would the babies ever grow up or remain infants forever? She was happy to know that there wasn’t a full moon every night. Marcus had told her that they wouldn’t always be werewolves, just a few nights here and there. For months on end, they would be normal and live like a normal family. But how to get away from the doctor? She almost resented him for interfering with her and her family. In the back of her mind, she knew that he was only there to help her, and God knew that he had taken care of Kayla, walking through chest high water, and carrying her to safety when the burned man had turned into a werewolf, but still she resented him.
Shelly had decided that she wouldn’t try to reach Marcus until everyone was completely out of sight, or until Dr. Kyler had made his final rounds. Only then, would she and the baby sneak out to meet him.
CHAPTER 68
Kyler was fascinated as he watched Locklear and Ariella pass down the dried dog saliva to Potts and his two man, one woman, army. Locklear, who was on one side of the table, would pass a test tube down to FranAnne who would take the test tube and pour the saliva into the hollow point projectiles that had been removed from the casings, after which Sgt. Cohen would seal the opening in the projectile with candle wax from candles that Sam Fong had found in a supply room. This was to keep the saliva inside the projectile until it entered the werewolf’s body whereby it would explode inside and send the saliva throughout its body. For the solid projectiles or non-hollow body bullets, they would drill a hole into the casing and pour the saliva powder into it and then cover it with the candle wax just like they did with the hollow bodies, and then repeat the process.
On the other side of the table, Ariella handled the saliva, Hawkins did the pouring, and Potts did the capping off. The first few bullets had taken a while, but now the octet was moving at factory speed. It almost seemed to Kyler as if each side of the table was racing the other. There was a pile of several dozen finished bullets on each side of the table. Kyler couldn’t tell which pile was bi
gger, and he really didn’t care. Go ahead and race, he thought to himself. The faster they went, the more bullets were filled and ready to go. Locklear had told them that there wasn’t enough saliva to fill every single cartridge, but if they spread it out just right, they might be able to make several hundred bullets. Spreading out the saliva meant that the bullets might not be potent enough to kill a werewolf, but it might hurt it.
“And who knows,” he had said. “Maybe getting hit with enough of them will do the trick.”
Kyler was enjoying watching Locklear work. Outside of his element, Locklear, as big as he was, seemed a little timid and unsure of himself, but in his element, he was the King of Rock and Roll, or the King of Chamber Music, whatever his preference was. He was the man in charge right now. He was pretty sure that Potts didn’t like taking a step back in command, but at that moment, Locklear was the guy.
Zora also seemed extremely fascinated by the process. She watched intently as the bullets were made. She had even waved him off once when he had started to talk to her. She asked Locklear question after question about everything that they were doing.
After about an hour of this, Kyler grew bored, and decided to go and talk to Lauren, who was now sitting on one side of the small loveseat with Joe curled up asleep on the other side. She was gently scratching his nose with her fingernails. Kyler watched as the dog snored loudly and twitched a paw now and then, telling the doctor that he was running in a beautiful field somewhere where the sun was shining, and there was no rain and no werewolves.