Project Chiron

Home > Horror > Project Chiron > Page 6
Project Chiron Page 6

by Ryan King


  Jack nearly choked on her words. "I'd settle for getting my old ones back."

  Rena stopped and shrugged him off her shoulder while easing him down onto a dry patch of dirt. She laid him back against an ancient tree and looked around worriedly. She put her hand on his forehead while giving him a drink from her canteen.

  "You're burning up," she said. "I've got medicine back at our cabin, but it's gonna take a while to get there carrying you like this." She gazed around carefully and with a nod of approval moved to a tall dark tree. She pulled a hunting knife from her belt and began scraping at the bark.

  "What are you doing?" he rasped. The wispy forms of Brian and Evan walked over to stare at her actions as if curious.

  She drew her knife down in careful strokes. "This is a black willow tree. It's not as good as real aspirin, but might get your fever down. Don't want you going into shock or having a seizure before we can get home."

  "Are you a doctor or something?" he asked.

  Rena smiled. "Not exactly. I'm the closest thing to a doctor on this island. My mother was a nurse and taught me everything she knew before she ran off and left Poppa and me. The island taught me the rest."

  "You stayed here with you father?"

  "Sure." She smiled, walking back to him. "We like it here. She just wasn't made the same way we were."

  Jack looked at his friend Brian who stood behind her. Brian gave Jack a wink and thumbs up gesture, whereas Evan just shrugged.

  Rena carefully peeled the exposed inside of the bark away and put the thin strips into her mouth. She kept doing this until her cheek was sticking out so far she looked like it contained an exceptionally large wad of chewing tobacco. Rena then pulled the wad out of her mouth and held it before his face.

  "Open up," she said.

  Jack hesitated. He hadn't ever considered himself a germophobe, but he was still a little grossed out.

  Rena smiled. "Come on now, city boy. I ain't got too many cooties, and it's either this or I can give it to you rectally. Won't make any difference to your body."

  Jack's mouth snapped open.

  "There we go," she said in a soothing voice as she plopped the wad into his mouth. "Now chew that and don't swallow it, or choke on it. Tastes bad I know, but it will get your fever down."

  The bitterness nearly made Jack gag, but he chewed nevertheless. Having her saliva in his mouth seemed so strikingly intimate that Jack suddenly felt awkward around this mysterious woman.

  As if reading his thoughts, she looked at him curiously. "I just realized I don't even know your name."

  "I'm Jack," he answered in a muffled reply. "Jack Winter." The words were out of his mouth before he had to time to consider if it were wise to tell her his real name.

  Rena smiled. "Nice to meet you, Jack Winter. And in case you die on me and I don't get a chance to tell you, it has been a pleasure."

  Jack would have laughed if he could. Rena was the most interesting woman he had met since...well, since Heather. The thought of his captured friend sobered him, and his smile vanished. Jack looked up to see Rena studying him closely.

  "Come on," she finally said, helping him up to lean on her shoulder and moving carefully east

  He realized after a time that he no longer had chills and his dead friends and father were noticeably absent. The willow bark must be helping his fever. He also noticed that the pain in his shoulder wasn't as great.

  "How much farther?" he asked.

  "Best if you don't know," she answered. "Not as far as it was and further than it will be in a minute. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, and I'll handle the rest"

  Jack struggled along on leaden legs, keeping his eyes on the ground and moving forward. After what seemed like weeks, he felt Rena stop. Jack lifted his head with effort and spotted a small stone and timber cabin covered in moss and vines through the trees. A thin line of smoke rose from a chimney.

  "Your home?" Jack asked in little more than a whisper.

  "It is. Poppa's out fishing, but will be back before dark." She laughed. "He'll want to show me his catch, but I think mine will be bigger than anything he got."

  Jack grimaced. "Is that supposed to be funny?"

  "I think so," she answered with a smile. "Our humor probably isn't as sophisticated as you are used to on the mainland, but you'll eventually come to appreciate it. If you survive that is."

  "More humor?"

  Rena shook her head. "No, that's serious. This will be the first bullet wound I've ever treated. Not too worried about that. The problem is you've been out in the woods all night and most of the morning, and I don't have antibiotics. If you die, it will be the infection that gets you."

  "Your bedside manner is awful," he croaked.

  "Just wait until you see my bedside manner," she answered.

  Jack groaned and limped towards the entrance to the cabin on Rena's shoulder. He realized that she was panting and that this trip had to have been exhausting on her. She had supported most of his weight for what was likely two or three miles at least, and he estimated he outweighed her by fifty pounds.

  "By the way, I wanted to say thank you," he said.

  "Don't thank me yet," she said, helping him through the door. The interior was surprisingly large compared to the outside impression. The inside was rustic, but clean and neat. A main room huddled around a large fireplace, which was adjacent to a kitchen that was dominated by an old wood-burning stove. The furniture was homemade, but sturdy and comfortable looking. The walls were hung with tools, traps, supplies, and fishing gear. Two open doorways led off the main room, and Rena guided him towards the one on the right.

  "Over this way," Rena said, steering him towards a small wood-framed bed. Jack started to lie down, but she pulled him back. "Nope, need you to lie on your stomach so I can work on that shoulder."

  Jack complied. "Maybe you should call a doctor or take me to the mainland."

  Rena shook her head. "Phones don't work here, and I'm not sure you'd survive a boat ride in your condition. As a matter of fact, I'm surprised you're still alive at all."

  "Humor?" asked Jack.

  "A little bit." She smiled. "See, you're starting to get it." She left the room to boil water over the fire and returned with a small table and a canvas bag. She set the table beside his wounded shoulder and pulled up a three-legged stool from the corner to squat on. Rena unzipped her bag and pulled out a small glass bottle of clear liquid. Inserting a syringe into the end, she carefully pulled out an inch of the contents before putting the bottle away.

  "What's that?" asked Jack.

  "This," she said, sticking it into his arm and injecting the contents, "is to knock you out while I patch you up. You should have a nice little nap, and when you wake up, everything will be just wonderful."

  Jack grunted. "If only that were..." His voice drifted off as he slipped into unconsciousness.

  Rena carefully stripped Jack of his clothes and slipped a plastic sheet under him before starting an IV. Carefully laying her instruments on the table in front of her, she then began dropping them in the pot of water over the fire. She looked at Jack's pants on the floor bulging with the distinct outline of a wallet.

  Don't worry, Rena thought. He's who he says he is, no threat to us.

  She reached over and pulled the wallet out anyway and began writing down information on a notepad and then methodically went through the rest of his pockets. The ivory pocketknife caused her to catch her breath, and she looked at the man before her more carefully.

  Her father would not be happy she had brought this stranger to their home. He was cautious and protective by nature. If he thought the stranger was even a possible threat, he might take him out in the boat, weight him down, and sink him in deep water. Rena didn't like it, but she understood that on the island, you were on your own and handled your own business.

  Rena chewed her lip and looked down at Jack's profile. She reached out and carefully stroked his hair before letting her hand drop.
His breathing sounded strange, and she noticed that he still had the wad of willow bark in his cheek. She pulled it out and dropped it into the boiling water with the instruments, figuring it couldn't hurt anything and might help.

  That was good enough reason to do something on the island—it didn't hurt and might help. Hopefully, that was the case with her helping this stranger.

  Pushing a loose strand of dark hair out of her face, Rena retrieved the pot of boiling water she had hung over the fireplace that contained her operating equipment. She pulled out a hot scalpel and forceps with tongs and began probing for the bullet.

  Chapter 13

  Jack woke to the smell of food and a rumbling stomach. He opened his eyes and saw the lengthening shadows of approaching evening through the window. Sitting up slowly, he carefully pulled out the IV line and swung his feet to the ground.

  It felt as if he had been asleep for days. He gingerly rotated his right shoulder and felt pain and soreness, but not as much as he would have expected. Jack pulled back the blankets and realized he was naked underneath. Yanking the blankets back quickly, his face reddened thinking of Rena.

  "Hello?" he called out. "Rena?"

  A large black man with a short beard stepped into the doorway staring down at Jack. Appraising him.

  Jack was at a loss for words and just looked at the imposing figure.

  "You're better, I see," the man finally said.

  Jack rubbed his shoulder. "Yes, thank you."

  The man shook his head. "Don't thank me; it was all Rena."

  "She said she lives here with her father. Is that you?"

  He didn't answer immediately. "It is. I'm Deloy Dequese, and this is my cabin."

  "Yes," answered Jack looking around, "do you know where my clothes went?"

  "Where did you put them when you took them off?" Deloy asked seriously.

  Jack's face must have shown the horror he felt. "I…uh...I..."

  The big man's face finally split into a wide grin. "Just playing with you. Rena laid out some fresh clothes for you there." He pointed to a pile of worn but clean clothes, his personal affects stacked neatly on top.

  Jack moved to get dressed, expecting the big man to give him some privacy, but he just remained there watching. Doing his best to ignore Rena's father, he stood on unsteady legs and began dressing, the clothes only slightly too large for him.

  "Where'd you get that pocketknife?" Deloy asked.

  It took a moment for him to realize what the man was talking about. "I found it in the ruins of an old house north of here." Jack answered, pulling on pants.

  Deloy eyed him closely. "I once knew a man who carried a knife just like that."

  Jack froze. "Uncle Johnny?"

  "He was Johnny Crittenton to us," said Rena's voice from behind her father.

  Stunned by both the fact that they knew Uncle Johnny and that Rena had likely been standing there the whole time he had been dressing, Jack just stared at them.

  "How did you know Johnny?" asked Deloy.

  Jack continued getting dressed. "He worked for my father when I was young and used to bring us to this island to fish in the summers. I was coming to visit him, but I see his house is gone."

  "You and your friend?" asked Rena pointedly.

  "Excuse me?" Jack asked.

  "You and your friend Levi were coming to see him right? That good friend of yours who shot you and then left you for dead?"

  Jack smiled. "It sounds bad when you put it that way."

  "I'm not judging," she answered. "Mainland ways are mainland ways. Just because we don't shoot our friends here doesn't mean that's the best way. To each his own."

  "Do you know what happened to Uncle Johnny?" Jack asked. "I was here ten years ago after he retired from working for my father. He was in that cabin and doing fine. He hasn't died, has he?"

  Rena and Delay looked at each other before the big man spoke. "I'm afraid to be the one to tell you, son, but John Crittenton died six years ago. Stroke, I believe."

  Jack's heart sank. He hadn't realized how much he hoped to see and talk to Uncle Johnny. The man had been a tie to his father and could have answered so many questions. "What happened to his house?" he asked.

  "He had some distant relative who got the house and sold it to the park," Rena answered. "Park service tore down the house after adding the land to their holdings. Johnny would have been okay with that, I'd say."

  "Yes," murmured Jack. "He loved it here."

  "You have to, otherwise you go elsewhere." Deloy looked at his daughter after saying this and then turned away awkwardly. "Anyway, let me go check on dinner. Are you hungry?"

  "Very," said Jack as the man moved away to the stove. Jack cocked his head at Rena. "Wait a minute. Dinner? Have I been out cold all day?"

  She laughed. "Noooo, you've been out two days. You got here yesterday morning."

  Jack's mouth dropped open. What's happened to my friends? he wondered. Are they even still alive?

  "Do you happen to have a telephone I could use?" he asked.

  Rena shook her head. "Afraid not. Like I told you, they don't work here. We go to the park station if we need to make a call, but never do. You can use the CB radio, but not sure who you could reach on that; the range is pretty short."

  "Could I call the police on it?"

  Rena didn't answer for a moment. "About your friend shooting you?"

  Jack paused, still cautious. "No, I don't want to get him into trouble, just wanted to make sure he's okay since I can't call him. He was acting strangely, not at all like himself."

  "Food's ready," Deloy called.

  Jack moved toward the kitchen and felt his legs wobble beneath him.

  "Easy there," Rena said, reaching out to steady him. "You're going to be weak for a few days. I couldn't give you any blood, not even plasma, so you need to take it slow while you recover." She sat him down at a chair beside her father and in front of a plate piled with fried fish and what appeared to be beans, cooked squash, and rice.

  Deloy led them in grace and then dug into the food. Jack tried the fish first and found it delicious. "This is good," said Jack appreciatively.

  "Caught it this morning," said Deloy. "Fish is always better the same day it's caught. That's why I never eat fish when I'm on the mainland."

  "How often do you go there?" asked Jack.

  Deloy chewed slowly and eyed him. "Three or four times a week. That's where I go to sell my fish and get supplies."

  "Can you take me there the next time you go?" Jack asked.

  Deloy started to answer, but Rena jumped in. "The open boat is no place for you in your condition. You need at least a few more days to heal up."

  The big man looked at his daughter curiously and then back at Jack. "She's right. A lot can happen in a boat and not all of its good. Best to wait a few more days; we'll take you then. You need me to take a message to anyone or make a call for you?"

  "Maybe Poppa can check on your friend Levi," Rena offered.

  Jack shook his head. "No, that's fine. I'm sure he's okay. I'll look him up once I get back."

  Rena and her father exchanged a sidelong glance, and Jack sensed they suspected something. He tried to think of anything to say that would make everything all right.

  "Fish is really good," Jack muttered.

  "You already said that," said Rena. "If you want more, just ask."

  Jack realized he did want more. Rena piled fried fish on his plate, and as he ate, his mind kept drifting off, worrying about his friends.

  I've got to find them and get them back to the mainland, he thought. I started this nightmare and it's up to me to end it.

  Chapter 14

  "I need you there," said Eric St Keel. "Nothing goes according to plan unless you're there to make sure of it."

  Lucas closed his eyes and tightened his hand on the telephone. One of the downsides of being essential was that you were always needed. Even when you weren't really needed.

  "Sir, this is ju
st a routine fundraiser," Lucas explained. "I've sent you your speech, and I've been assured everything is ready to go."

  "They always say that," said St Keel a little peevishly, "but you know it's never true. We're in the homestretch, Lucas. You said so yourself, we can't afford to let anything go wrong now."

  Taking a deep breath, Lucas pulled up the calendar on his computer. "You're right, I'll shuffle some things and see you tomorrow night."

  "Very good," answered St Keel. "Gotta go, see you then."

  As soon as the call ended, Bridgett buzzed him.

  Lucas suppressed his slight annoyance. "Yes, Bridgett?"

  "Sir, Devin is asking to speak to you on the secure line. He's holding now."

  "Yes, thank you," he answered. "Please make sure I am not disturbed during this call."

  "Certainly, sir."

  After the door was closed, Lucas picked up his secure phone. They had to pay a fortune for the service, but the extra security had certainly paid off before. "Devin, this is Lucas."

  "Yes, I have a few updates on our earlier situation at Site Iaso. We might have a problem."

  "No. We do not," said Lucas. "Whatever it is, we cannot allow it to be a problem."

  Devin sighed. "My source at the Avery Island Marina said someone rented a boat a few days ago and hasn't brought it back."

  Lucas' mind worked at the information. "You think the person who rented the boat went to Bog Island? Maybe that's why Urchart initiated the quarantine?"

  "Possibly, although we’ve worked hard to make that place seem like a malaria infested quagmire to the public" answered Devin. "The boat was supposed to be back last night. The owner told my guy he's charging double for the extra day, and if it's not back by tomorrow morning, he is going to report it stolen to the police."

  "Did he say how many people were on the boat?" asked Lucas.

  "Two women and four men," answered Devin.

  "Shit," hissed Lucas. "Wait until dark, and have every car that is still in the parking lot towed. Make sure the tow truck driver keeps his mouth shut about where the vehicles came from."

  "Will do," answered Devin.

 

‹ Prev