Cruel World (39 page)

“Kiiiilll mmmeeeeeeee,” Gregory hissed, eyes jittering in their sockets, his arm outstretched and shaking.

Quinn brought up the handgun and aimed at the man’s forehead. The sights wavered as the doctor’s jaw clenched so tight they could hear his teeth cracking in his mouth. Quinn squeezed the trigger but then released it and moved across the operating room to the far wall.

“What are you doing?” Alice said.

“I have to be sure,” he said, opening the last refrigerated cell on the counter. Inside were four vials of clear liquid. He grabbed the first and pulled it out, ripping the drawer in front of him open. Inside were all manner of sterile instruments in plastic wrappers. He rifled through them, a clock ticking down in his mind. Gregory screamed behind him. The syringes were at the very back of the drawer, and he drew one out, tearing the package with his teeth. He fumbled the plastic cap off the needle and plunged it into the rubber stopper at the end of the vial. He retracted the plunger, filling the syringe, and threw the vial across the room.

Somewhere far away, a stilt roared.

Quinn jammed the needle into Gregory’s neck and depressed the liquid.

His eyes bulged, and all of his wind rushed out, sliding from between his broken teeth. A small amount of blood dribbled down his chin, and he seized again, muscles becoming bands of iron before slackening.

“Quinn!” Alice yelled as she pulled Ty out of the room and headed toward the door they’d entered through. He began to follow and looked back when he reached the divider between the operating room and the lab.

Gregory was slumping forward, further than he should’ve been able, and Quinn saw that the bone around him was softening where it met his clothes. The doctor raised his head, eyes clear now locking onto Quinn’s, the pain in them washed away.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Quinn turned and ran.

Alice, Ty, and Denver were waiting at the locked door. He drew out Roman’s card and was about to slide it through the reader when another croak echoed into the lab. Quinn turned, squinting down the passage that led out the back of the room. There was a small amount of light filtering in at the rear wall.

“Wait a second,” he said and sprinted through the lab and down the hall. It turned a corner at a door marked ‘roof access’ before opening up to the field outside the end of the building. There had been a fire exit door there once, but it had been torn away and lay scratched and bent on the grass. The rain continued to fall in an unending drizzle.

Through the storm, he saw the first of them on the horizon.

In a span of seconds, there were dozens more. Then hundreds.

They ran toward the building with a single purpose. He could feel their calls in his bones.

Quinn bolted back the way he’d come, sliding on the slick floor as he raced toward the lab door.

“We have to go, right now,” he said, slicing the card through the reader. They pushed past the door and ran down the hallway pausing again before bursting into the lobby. Quinn glanced out through the tall windows lining the front of the building and slid to a stop, grasping Alice and Ty as he did.

Two stilts were striding toward the truck. They were too close; they’d never make it.

“Damn it,” Alice said, her hair whipping as she looked around the building. Ty’s hand trembled in his own and Denver whined and paced before them.

“The roof. If we can get on the roof, maybe we can distract them long enough to jump onto the awning and then down to the truck,” Quinn said.

“No, if we go outside they’ll kill us,” Alice said.

“If we stay in here, we’re trapped. They won’t leave until they’ve dug us out. Those doors aren’t going to hold them. There’s hundreds of them out there,” Quinn said, gripping her arm hard. She searched his face and looked out at the stilts near the truck. They picked at it with long fingers, and it rocked on its springs.

“Okay,” she said.

They retraced their steps, the air humming with deep vibrations. When they arrived at the lab, things were dropping from the ceiling around them, and it was a split second before Quinn realized it was Rodney collapsing from where he’d grown. They raced down the rear hall and stopped at the door leading to the roof. Quinn yanked on the door without looking outside, but Alice must have done so since her grasp on his arm tightened.

“Quinn…”

The door was locked.

“Quinn…” More urgency in her voice.

“Stand back,” he said, shoving the pistol against the gap between the door and its frame near the handle.

He fired.

The gunshot was deafening, but when he tugged on the doorknob, the door swung free toward them. He shoved them into the dark stairway, a last look at the pale mass of lurching flesh, closer now, so much closer.

He lunged through the door, slamming it behind him. There was no way to re-lock it so he ran, ripping up the stairs two at a time. At the top landing, Alice had unlocked the outside door and already spilled onto the roof. As he made the landing, a fire extinguisher caught his attention on the wall. He tore it free of its mooring and sprinted onto the roof.

The roof was covered with rock and felt spongy beneath his feet. He neared the waist-high edge and looked over.

The field behind the building was filled with stilts. They poured like a tidal wave across the earth, arms swinging, heads tilted up, mouths open and belching roars.

“Is the front clear?” he yelled over his shoulder.

“There’s a few around the truck!” Alice called back.

“Get down! Don’t let them see you!”

He tossed the fire extinguisher over the side as the first stilts neared the building. He took aim, breathing, locking the sights on the red steel canister. The sights shook.
Don’t let the fear win.

He squeezed the trigger.

The extinguisher jumped and spewed a stream of thick, white smoke into the air. The stilts nearby staggered away from it, the rest slowing and hanging back as the cylinder arced out even more of its contents. Quinn dashed around the side of the building banging the pistol on the concrete lip as he neared its front. The stilts surrounding the truck looked up at him, glaring through the short distance that separated them.

“This way you ugly fuckers!” Quinn yelled and ran back the way he’d come. He only had to wait a moment to know that they’d taken the bait. They came into view, their eyes finding him as he pelted to the rear of the building. “Jump when it’s safe!” he yelled, but didn’t look back to see if Alice had heard him. The fire extinguisher was fizzling its last, and the herd approached it, coming closer like an army of thin apes. One of them reached out and batted the canister against the building. When it merely rolled a few inches into the grass and fell still, they flooded through the open doorway while others reached up, trying to grasp the edge of the roof.

He chanced a look over his shoulder just in time to see Alice lock eyes with him as she climbed onto the roof’s lip. Their gaze solidified into something almost tangible and then broke as she jumped.

Two giant hands latched onto the roof and pulled, a snarling face appearing behind them. Quinn shot the stilt through the head, bringing down four more before turning and running as fast as he could toward the front of the building. He vaulted the wall, hoping that he’d estimated correctly, and fell over the side.

The awning was there, slamming beneath his feet. He nearly lost his grip on the gun but realigned himself with the truck before leaping toward it. Denver was lying on his side in the truck’s bed. Quinn dropped like a stone beside him, his feet hitting the back of the truck with an impact that buckled his legs and rattled his brain. His knees impacted the steel bed and he cried out, but his voice was lost in the revving engine and the peel of rubber on the wet asphalt.

The truck rocketed forward as the first stilt rounded the building. It swiped a hand out and caught hold of the tailgate. Quinn rolled to his side, as the monster began to climb into the truck, and fired, the bullet tearing into the stilt’s chest. It barked in agony, sending spittle onto Quinn’s shirt before losing its grip and sliding away to the road. Quinn sat up in time to see the entire herd, their numbers past the thousands, pursuing them on spindly legs. Alice accelerated, and their forms began to shrink.

Quinn sagged against the steel and slumped lower, coming even with Denver’s snout. The Shepherd snuffled wetly against his ear.

“You’re a good boy, Denver, good boy.” He petted the dog’s thick fur and noticed the ugly angle of his left hind leg. “Shit,” Quinn said, sitting up to examine the injury. He placed his hand on the leg, and Denver whined with pain, drool lining his dark lips. “It’s okay, boy; it’s okay. We’ll get you better; we’re safe now.”

He scooted forward until he could peer into the cab of the truck. Alice rolled down the left rear window, and he stood up, legs throbbing, rain stinging like wasps.

“You guys okay?” he called.

“We’re fine. Ty scraped up his knees and elbows.”

“I’m okay!” Ty called. “Denver’s hurt. I heard him yelp when he landed.”

“He’s going to be fine,” Quinn said.

“Are you alright?” Alice asked.

“I’m okay. You remember how to get back to the marina?”

“I’ve heard of a backseat driver, but you’re not even in the cab.”

He grinned and sat down.

A sallow arm flew inches over his head and blasted through the back window.

Everything was movement and sound.

The truck swerved. Ty screamed. Alice yelled something, and Denver growled as he launched himself up onto his feet.

The tallest stilt Quinn had ever seen ran behind the truck, its height soaring over thirty feet. Its limbs were like white ropes, bending and flexing as it kept pace with the vehicle. Quinn raised the gun and fired, the shot going wide over the monster’s shoulder. He pulled the trigger again.

Empty.

Denver latched onto the stilt’s wrist as it withdrew its arm, its hand clutching Ty around the chest. The big dog bit down, bone cracking in its jaws. Ty screamed again, his cries brimming with pain and intermingling with the stilt’s roars. The truck jerked again, and Quinn’s head connected with a wheel well. His vision swung, and he put out a hand as Ty was dragged from the backseat, his legs kicking broken glass in glittering pieces. There was blood on his small face, his unseeing eyes stretched with terror.

The stilt dragged Denver along with Ty to the back of the truck.

“Quinn!” Alice screamed.

He found his feet, the world still pin-wheeling. The stilt roared and tried to bat him from the truck, but he crouched, feeling the passage of air over his head. Quinn took a step and brought his foot down as hard as he could on the slender arm holding Ty just before the point where it rested on the tailgate.

There was a loud snap of bone.

The stilt screeched, the sound making his eardrums ripple.

Denver shook his massive head.

Blood spurted across the truck bed, and the stilt tripped and toppled. It fell in a tangled heap on the highway, rolling, as skin and flesh were peeled away against the blacktop. Quinn pulled his eyes from the sight and dropped to his knees beside Ty who lay on his back, soaked in crimson. The stilt’s hand still gripped him around the chest, and Denver yanked on the shredded meat where the wrist ended. Quinn pried the spasming fingers from around Ty’s torso and jerked it out of Denver’s clutching jaws. He tossed the splayed hand over the side of the truck like an enormous spider before pulling Ty into his lap.

“Is he okay?” Alice screamed, not watching the road at all.

“I’ve got him!” Quinn yelled. “Are you all right, champ?”

Ty shuddered and coughed, spitting out the stilt’s blood that had found its way into his mouth. He vomited and Quinn held him, wiping at his face. There were several small lacerations on his cheeks and forehead that bled freely.

“Are you okay?” Quinn asked again when the boy had quit gagging. Ty settled into his arms and slowly nodded.

“I think so.”

“Any pain inside your stomach or chest?”

“Nuh-uh, not really.”

Quinn sighed and pulled him closer, kissing the top of his head. “You’re okay; I gotcha now.”

“I think I wet my pants,” Ty said in a small voice that barely carried over the wind and rain that lashed them.

“I think I did too, buddy,” Quinn said. The tiniest of laughs escaped the boy, and Quinn hugged him tighter as they flew down the highway through the storm.

Chapter 31

Up the River

They spent that night anchored in the center of the St. Croix River.

Quinn steered them to the middle of a broad expanse that could have passed for a lake, except for the constant current trying to bring them downstream. They cleaned their wounds, disinfecting the cuts on Ty’s face along with setting Denver’s leg as well as they could. The huge dog laid still through the whole procedure, snarling only once near the end when Quinn moved his leg slightly to wrap it tighter. Despite her assurances that she was fine, Alice had sprained her ankle in the ten-foot drop from the awning to the truck. She joked that it couldn’t have happened to the leg she’d gotten shot in and how Quinn was going to have to carry her most places from that point on. He said he would gladly oblige.

The following days were easy and quiet. They cruised north up the river, passing patches of dense forest and large suburbs alike. Once a group of stilts spotted them coming around a bend near a campsite. The tallest of the herd had waded up to its thighs in the water before roaring impotently at them while they passed well out of reach. Ty had at first shrank from the creature’s cries, but as they faded, he stood and stuck his tongue past his lips in the direction of the diminishing sounds.

They all shared the master bed at night with Ty curled peacefully between them and Denver lying on his own blanket near the mouth of the hold. On the third day, after they’d circumvented an impassable damn by scouting and finding a smaller boat on its other side, Alice sat next to Quinn as he guided them across a wide lake, all the while consulting the phone’s mapping application that miraculously still functioned.

“Why didn’t you just shoot him?” she asked after a time.

“Who?”

“Gregory. You pumped him full of the virus instead.”

Quinn chewed on his bottom lip. “I wanted to be sure. If I’d just shot him, there was no guarantee it would’ve killed whatever Rodney had become. I took a chance thinking that re-injecting him with the virus would dissolve the bone again. I couldn’t stand the thought of that thing controlling the stilts, having them do its bidding. I couldn’t leave Gregory like that either. Even though he probably deserved it.”

She nodded and wound a piece of stray fishing line around her finger before looking at him again.

“Where are you taking us, captain?” she asked, pinning him with one flash of sapphire eyes.

“I’m not a hundred percent sure yet.”

“Bullshit. You’re not fooling anyone. You know exactly where you’re going. You’ve known since we stopped at the marina.”

He hesitated but only for a moment. “When Harold Roman was dying, he said something to me.”

“Okay.”

“He said ‘I Royal’. I thought he was trying to tell me his name was Royal. But he wasn’t. He was trying to say Isle Royale.”

“Isle Royale? What’s that?”

“It’s an island off the coast of northern Minnesota in Lake Superior. That’s what most of the documents and maps were about that he had in his pack. You were right; he was planning a trip. He knew more about the stilts and their biology than most people, and he figured that that island would be one of the best places for refuge.”

Alice watched him for a long time and then glanced at Ty and Denver who rode on the floor together in the bow.

“How would we survive there?” she finally asked.

“It’s got a population of moose as well as an interior lake with fish, not to mention Lake Superior on all sides. There’d be plenty of food. The island itself is fifteen miles offshore, and I don’t see any of those things swimming that far, especially with how cold the water temperature typically is. In the winter, we won’t have to worry about them at all since they’ll have to migrate south to keep from freezing to death. There’s visitor lodges there that we can live in, plenty of wood to burn.” He studied her face, how the sunshine lit her hair into a raven flare each time the wind caught it. “What do you think?”

She stared ahead at the water glimmering beyond the boat. He waited, content to watch her rather than the scenic landscape that slipped past them. After a time, she turned back to him.

“I think I’m in love with you,” she said. His jaw slackened and he blinked. Alice laughed, tossing her head to one side and leaned in, kissing him firmly on the lips. When she drew back, she smiled and stroked the side of his face. “Let’s go to your island.”