Tony rose again to his feet to check on their prisoner. Walking into the shack he saw Lance in the shadows. Tony had taped his hands in front of his body so that Lance could eat three health bars. He gave Lance a beer rather than give him any of their dwindling water supplies. Tony didn’t know why he was even bothering to help the man who had held he and Jack at gunpoint hours earlier. He felt a touch of human compassion and fed Lance because it is how he would like to be treated. Prisoners, even asshole prisoners were still human beings.
“You all right?” he asked checking the tape on Lance’s wrists.
“Yeah,” the bound man grumbled. Lance was hungry. The bars were not enough but he wasn’t about to ask for anything. The duct tape was uncomfortable and he was tired. After Tony left the structure to return to his friends, Lance thought he would try to rest. If he could sleep for a while he might wake up while the rest of them were asleep. That would give him time to work on his restraints. He could probably chew the tape free if he had some time alone. Lance pushed himself forward, sliding on the floor to a fetal position with his back to the door. He curled up wondering how he had gotten into this mess. He thought to himself that he should have just fired his gun when he opened the door. He should have taken out both men and rode off. Lying on the stiff plywood floor he opened his eyes for a moment. Flickering firelight seeped in through the small spaces between the planks of the wall. Something from underneath the workbench shined with a pale gold shimmer. Lance reached out and found a single .410 shotgun shell. He grasped it quickly and slid the round into his pocket. Looking over his shoulder to be sure he was alone, he made a chipped tooth grin. If he could get his hands free and get a weapon, this time he wouldn’t hesitate.
Tony returned to the fire to see Jack rise to his feet.
“I’m gonna go that way about fifty yards,” Jack said indicating with a nod, “Come get me around two.”
“You think any of those things followed us?” Tony asked.
“Not really but I’d rather keep a look out,” Jack said and trudged off holding the twelve-gauge. Veronica watched him depart, taking note of his direction. Tony sat next to Nikki.
“Do you think those people will try to get us?” Nikki asked in a low tone.
He shook his head to reassure her, though he wasn’t sure. He thought he would try to get her mind off of things. Tony pulled out his pistol.
“Have you ever fired a gun?” he asked, removing the magazine. He moved back the slide and dropped the chambered round into his hand.
“No, never even held one,” she said with interest. The weapon was small and light, not the kind of gun she would expect a man like Tony to have.
“Why’s it so small?” she asked feeling the balance of the weapon.
“It’s not the size of the gun, it’s how good you can shoot”, he answered. Veronica snorted, holding back a laugh at his blatant innuendo. She rose, tired, to her feet.
“I’m gonna try and get some rest.” She said looking out into the dark night. “Don’t stay up too late you two.”
“’Night,” Nikki said holding the pistol.
Tony spent an hour showing the young woman how the weapon worked. From the composition of a bullet, the explosive gasses released in the powder and the copper covered projectile, to the mechanics of how one bullet is ejected and replaced by another. He had her remove and replace the magazine, as well as showed her how to reload and move a fresh round into the chamber. The determined young lady practiced over and over loading the gun, switching the safety off and taking aim. Nikki was a good student and paid close attention. He showed her all that he could short of firing the weapon. After the fire had died down, around ten, they went into the shack. Tony made her a small pillow by stuffing his extra gauze bandages into a small utility pack from his harness. He curled up in the corner next to the door, Nikki slept across the room in the other. He watched her with care until she fell asleep.
THIRTY-TWO
The warm blue grey shades of the forest night were both comforting and foreboding. The moderate temperature and lack of illumination would be relaxing to Jack Mason, if the situation were not so dire. The moonless night made his eyes prone to slumber. His muscles were starting to fatigue after the events of so long a day. The fighting, the interspersed blasts of adrenalin, and even maintaining control of his motorcycle had taken its toll. As he replayed his memories in his mind, he wondered if it was all just a bad dream. No, he thought to himself, believe it or not, this shit is real. He had to keep sharp and keep a look out. People were counting on him.
Mason rubbed his eyes and focused on the road ahead. He had found himself a small gully next to the road about seventy yards away from the shack. There were plenty of bushes and small trees behind him for cover and the naturally formed earth concealed his position from the front. He had chosen to lay prone and keep his view on the road where he assumed the creatures would approach from. That is if they came this way. He had no idea what those things were or what they would do. He was afraid that they could smell uninfected people. The blinded woman seemed to sniff at the air towards Tony. If they could smell people, then they might be on their way. That was a long shot, but just incase, Mason would be there to protect his friends.
Lying prone wasn’t the best way for Mason to stay awake. He had to shake off the cobwebs of his mind. The road before him was barely perceivable in the starlight. Mason was blessed with good eyes as well as experience with hunting in the forest, but in his tired state, the image of the road was becoming less real to his perception. It seemed as if he were looking at a black and white photograph. He was thankful for a small breeze that would move the foliage from time to time adding movement to the scene, reassuring Mason that he was awake. Then a noise from behind his position sent a sickening shot-glass of pure adrenalin to his gut.
Mason silently rolled to his left side, keeping the shotgun extended in line with is right leg. He leaned up on his left arm and raised his head to listen. His right ear became his main sensory organ as he calmed himself to become more attentive. The slight breeze dissipated and in the distance he heard small footsteps. The slight crunching of dry grass told Mason that the person who was approaching was ether very careful about being quiet or they were not very heavy. Mason decided to discreetly inquire who it was. He made a double clicking noise with is mouth; the kind of click that John Wayne would make in the movies to get his horse to move.
“Click, click.”
The footfalls stopped suddenly.
“Psst,” sounded in the night. It was Veronica approaching. Mason was surprised that she was able to come so close before he had noticed. Her attractive form crouched down as she crept towards Jack unsure of just where he was in the darkness.
“Where are you?” she whispered.
“Five steps forward then down a yard on your right,” he answered as quiet as he could manage with his deep voice. His throat crackled slightly when he spoke and he realized that he was thirsty. Veronica took to her knees and offered Jack a Coke.
“I thought you could use some caffeine.” She handed him the can. He took it and slid it underneath his shirt. He opened the can slowly to hide the sound beneath the cloth as best as he could. Veronica noticed this and laid herself out in the gully next to Jack, not seductively but rather to hide her silhouette.
“Are you always so careful?” she asked.
“No need to call extra attention to ourselves,” he whispered.
He turned to look down the road once again. Veronica rolled a quarter turn to become prone herself, stomach down flat on the earth and scanned the area as well.
“Do you want me to leave?” she offered continuing to whisper.
“No, I can use the company,” he said sipping a large drink of the soda. A shooting star blazed across the heavens causing them both to look up.
“Seen quite a few of those tonight,” he said.
They were quiet. Veronica rolled on her back to look into the sky. Small flecks of lig
ht were visible above the rolling clouds. Little bits of floating fluff were flowing in the air back down the road, towards camp. They looked amazing in the quiet night.
“So, what’s your story, are you a nurse or something?” Jack asked while keeping watch.
“No, actually I’m premed. Why?”
“Cerebellum,” he joked. She blushed, though Jack couldn’t see it.
“Yes, I like to be specific.” She put her hands peacefully on her stomach while watching the sky. Another shooting star flew by. The clouds seemed to stop moving, frozen in the stratosphere.
“I love medicine and science. How the body works and how to cure people has always interested me. I just wish I knew what was going on out there. I wish I had a sample of their blood to analyze so I could learn what’s behind this,” she said frustrated.
“I guess I could get you some of their blood.”
“No, that might be dangerous,” she said turning her head to Jack. “Since we’re dealing with a possible pathogen, exposure to their blood may prove to be infectious.” She reached out and touched his elbow. “You can’t let their blood get on you, in your eyes or mouth or a cut; there is a chance it could make you sick.”
He looked in her direction even though he couldn’t see her face in the dark. He wondered what she looked like right now. What would her expression tell him?
“Okay, we’ll be careful. Tony can take the twelve-gauge and I’ll use my sword. I want you guys to have Tony’s pistol and the .410 until we get back, just in case.”
“You have to be careful with the sword. In medicine we call it sharps precautions. You have to make sure that you don’t cut yourself after it has been exposed to contaminants,” she said removing her hand from his arm.
“Sharps precautions; got it. What else do you have? Any theories?” he asked.
Veronica breathed deep, thinking. She needed a lab, a spectroscope, an MRI, and a specimen to examine. She needed to finish med school to be able to even start asking the right questions. She considered the events of the day with her keen memory.
“Well, I can’t be sure about anything, these are just observations and assumptions,” she said unsure. “I think that they breathe, the growling is evidence of that however, I’m not sure they have a heartbeat. The ones at the camp had very little blood pressure when they were shot,” she paused to consider further.
Jack was impressed. She was sharp and appeared to be thinking things through very clearly. He thought of the blinded woman.
“What about smell?” he asked.
“Yes, I did notice a slight chemical odor, not unlike ammonia,” she answered.
“No, I mean yes, I noticed that too but I meant their sense of smell.”
“The woman at camp seemed to detect your friend by his scent. That is frightening,” Veronica said closing her eyes. “Do you think they could do it over great distances?”
“Animals can,” he said while looking down the road again. Feeling a breeze on his face he noticed that the wind had changed. Good, Jack thought, stay downwind of the bastards.
“What do you think the weird smell that they have is about?” Jack asked.
“I really don’t know; some sort of chemical process in their blood, perhaps from the infection itself. You’d have to ask someone a lot smarter than me,” she said exhausted.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Jack closed his right eye and hit the light on his G-Shock watch for a split second. The brightness burned an image into his left retina that read 11:30. The image would stay in his left eye for several seconds until his pupil dilated back to full aperture. By keeping his right eye closed, he was able to protect some of his night vision.
“Eleven thirty.”
Veronica forced herself to relax. Twelve hours ago she was worried about opening up to a man and now everything had changed. Her world had changed once again due to some tragedy that she couldn’t control. Somehow she would make it. The men would return and they would get out. If not, she would drag Nikki up the mountain by herself if she had to. Jack and Tony would be all right and she would go on with her life like she had planned. Learn to trust, learn to love, and learn how to live.
“If we get out of this,” she said without really realizing that she was speaking, “I’d like to make you dinner.” There, it was out. In a way it frightened her that she actually said the words. Her question wasn’t too forward, but absolutely unprecedented for Veronica. She kept her eyes shut and waited.
“I’d like that,” Jack’s deep voice whispered.
Veronica breathed in a deep breath, feeling relaxation fall over her. She smiled. Moments later she heard Tony’s voice talking to Jack.
“No, nothing at all,” Jack said. She opened her eyes and saw Jack standing. He offered her his hand and she took it. Rising to her feet with his help she understood that she had fallen asleep. It was time for Tony to take over the watch. She walked with drowsy steps towards the shack. Looking up she saw the clouds racing away now from the campground and all their troubles. The winds had changed. Inside, she soon fell back into to a dreamless sleep.
A few miles away in the quiet camp of Professor Galloway, several once living students milled about without direction. They had all partaken of poor Ranger Watkins and subsequently, without prey, staggered their stiff forms around the camp without reason. They didn’t tire so they didn’t require sleep. The darkness didn’t frighten them for they had no fear. Their only purpose, only motivation, would be more living matter to consume. At around three A.M. in the pitch black, it arrived. Born on the changing wind came something to strive for; a faint scent of something desirable, something warm and wet, to devour. One by one they moved slowly towards the smell. Falling and stumbling in the dark, they came slowly but undaunted.
THIRTY-THREE
Mason stood next to the workbench holding up the barrel of his paint gun. Nikki and Veronica watched his demonstration as soft morning light illuminated the shack. He placed a nail dart in the barrel, pushed the end down with his thumb and blew a large blast of air from his mouth through the pipe. A four inch nail stuck solidly into a pine two by four in the wall. Nikki raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“See, now the principal is the same for the paint guns, but with a lot more pressure,” he said retrieving the dart, careful not to crush the paper and tape cone. He placed the dart in the tube again and screwed the barrel back on to the paint gun.
“You have to load the darts one at a time and you’ll have to be close to get through bone. This is a last resort, but it’s an option I want you to know about,” he said.
Mason looked around the shack. The motorcycles were checked out and parked outside. Tony had taken Lance to pee so he couldn’t beg the girls later to take him out and attempt an escape. Mason had affixed a two by four across the door that should hold well. He didn’t expect a siege but he was worried about leaving the girls alone. Even though he had known them for only a day, he cared about them. He looked at Veronica and toyed with the idea of going alone, leaving Tony to watch out for the women. This was a two man job, if something happened to one of them on the way; the other had to complete the mission.
“Here they come,” Nikki said looking outside. Tony emerged through the door with Lance in his charge. Setting him back in the corner, Tony checked his restraints. Standing, he looked to Mason. It was time to go. Mason approached Lance while Tony walked outside to his bike followed by Nikki.
“Check it out man,” Mason said with all seriousness, “We’re gonna go get my truck and then we are all gonna get out of here, even you. If you give these girls any shit, I’ll drive you back to the campground, cover your ass in barbeque sauce and dump you in front of those things.”
Lance cowered at the thought and nodded his reluctant acknowledgement.
Outside, Nikki assisted Tony as he adjusted his equipment. He was clad in his motorcycle boots and plastic armor. Nikki held his combat harness so that he could slide into it like a coat
. He strapped down his gear firmly and felt the fit. The twelve-gauge shotgun was taped to his handlebars. Removing his combat knife he sliced off the trigger finger of his right glove.
“What did you do that for?” Nikki asked looking at his glove.
“The fabric gets in the way of the trigger” he said wiggling his naked finger in a trigger pulling motion.
Mason pulled on his gear in a similar fashion. He had his scabbard duct tapped to his handlebars and one of the milk crates secured with rope and tape to his back fender. Veronica stood next to him holding the .410 as he mounted his bike.
“Sure you don’t want to take this?” Veronica asked indicating the shotgun. Mason shook his head.
“No, if we don’t make it back it’s up to you to get her out of here. Leave asshole dude here if it comes to that. If he gets out of hand,” Mason put a finger in the shape of a gun to his head, “Cerebellum.”
“Count on it,” she said lifting the weapon.
Inside the shack, Lance knew he didn’t have much time. He had managed to lift his arms high enough to grasp one of the homemade darts off the workbench. Holding it in both hands he tried to poke the sharp end into the tape around his wrists but lacked the flexibility to do so. In a panic, he dropped the dart on the floor and hid it with his leg. He brought his wrists to his mouth and tried to chew the tape. All he succeeded to do was wet the tape and crush its fibers. Frustrated and afraid, he gnawed harder, but to no avail. Pain flashed from his teeth up through the nerves of his face. The tape snagged on the rough surface of his broken tooth. The sensation was electric agony. He looked at the tape and saw that it had frayed. He endured tremendous pain as he slowly worked his bonds over the jagged surface of his broken tooth.
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