Violet Eyes (31 page)

Skiles looked at David’s face and saw the pride inherent there. The thought of what this thing could do to the human race had never completed itself in the man’s head. He had no concern for the human race, he only lived for what he could do with his genes and his splices.

“Okay,” Skiles said. “Do you want to be the one to help give the final plug pull on this thing?”

“I don’t understand.”

Skiles gave the man a burning glare.

“Do you want to help me wipe this thing out, or are you going to be sympathetic to the monster?”

“They’re not monsters,” David said and frowned, as if he had been personally insulted. “But yes, I will help. We developed a chemical—eXogen19—designed to sterilize an area. It essentially dissolves any living creature, while leaving the plant life alone.”

“Is that the same compound you released on Sheila Key? Because…that didn’t work!”

David nodded. “The initial application obviously failed. It wasn’t strong enough. When we revisited the island—thanks to your call, I believe—we used a stronger concentration. We’ve checked the island several times now and found no trace of resurgence.”

“I’m going to need truckloads of this stuff,” Skiles said.

“We’re prepared,” David said.

Chapter Fifty-One

Tuesday, May 21. 8:47 p.m.

When Anders woke, the house was still. And dark. It only took a look out the window to see that he had slept through the afternoon. It was night, but what time? Anders looked around the room for a clock, but saw none.

He was lying in a bed in a sparsely finished room—just a bed and a nightstand—with the bedroom door closed. He sat up slowly and stretched, testing himself. The muscles in his arms and shoulders ached, like when you were in the midst of a December flu. Overall, his body felt weak, but a lot better. Earlier, he’d been so dizzy and sick that he couldn’t stand up. Now he could hold his head up without feeling weird, and his stomach wasn’t nauseous anymore…though it was painfully empty. As soon as he thought about it, he heard an audible growl. He realized that he hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours.

Anders slid his legs over the side and levered himself upright. He stood there in the dark for a minute, making sure that he wasn’t going to fall over or black out again. Then, convinced that he had his legs truly under control again, he crept towards the door. He put a hand on the doorknob, and carefully turned it, then eased the door open. He wanted to know the lay of the land before anyone knew that he was up.

The hall was dark, though there was light coming from the living room down at the other end. Anders looked into the room across from his. He knew instantly from the Angry Birds poster that this was Eric’s room. He only had to take one step inside to see that his son was asleep in bed.

Good. That was one problem solved. That meant he could deal with the other two without interference.

He tiptoed down the hall to see if Rachel and her new boyfriend were still awake. He was nearly to the end of the wall, when he heard the couch creak.

Crap.

There was no place to go, really. There was a hallway door right next to him…a closet? He turned the knob and opened it. Inside was a vacuum and a couple shelves filled with tools and other odds and ends. Beyond the shelves, a handful of steps led down to what looked like a small crawlspace or storage area.

Footsteps creaked across the front room. Anders ducked into the open door, and pulled it nearly shut behind him. He left it cracked so that he could just see a sliver of the hallway.

Anders held his hand on the doorframe, and glued his eye to the opening.

Crocodile Dundee walked past on his way to the bathroom.

Perfect.

That meant Rachel must be alone on the couch. Now if she would just stay there until he could take care of bathroom boy.

Anders looked around the storage closet and saw a roll of twine laying near the hammer. And a couple rolls of masking tape and duct tape. He smiled and grabbed the silver spool along with the twine. Then he picked up a box cutter and thumbed the blade out a half an inch.

Good ol’ Rachel
,
he thought. So nice of her to keep her packing and unpacking tools all neatly together. She’d always been organized. He pushed the door open and stepped back into the hall. He crossed it in three steps and pressed his back to the wall next to the bathroom door. The toilet flushed as he did.

He took a deep breath. He only had one chance at this. He had driven all night last night to come here and take his family home, and there was only one thing stopping him right now. That thing was in the bathroom. The idea that had blossomed in his head told him that if he could just get rid of Crocodile Dundee for a bit, the path would be clear to load up the truck and drive the family home.

Water splashed against the bathroom sink and then almost as quickly turned off. Anders took a deep breath and steeled himself. He had to be fast. And accurate. He didn’t want to kill the guy, but he couldn’t miss on the first try either. He wouldn’t get another chance.

The door opened, and the light switch clicked off.

Terry stepped into the hall, and took a step towards the front room.

Anders let out his breath, and leapt forward. He reached around Terry’s face with one hand and pressed it hard against the other man’s mouth to stop any calls for help, at the same time pressing the razor’s edge to Terry’s throat with his other hand.

“Don’t move or I’ll open your throat,” Anders whispered.

Terry stood stock still.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Anders continued, talking in the lowest whisper he could. “We’re going to kneel down here in the hallway. Slowly.”

Terry complied, and Anders kept the razor’s edge biting into the soft skin just below his jaw. A bead of blood had surfaced along the line of the razor, and as Terry’s knees touched the hall, the blood ran down to his shoulder to stain the edge of his T-shirt.

“Now, I want you to lay down, face to the floor,” Anders said. “And don’t make a sound. I know you’re an outdoorsy kind of guy. But I’m going to show you what an Alabama boy can do with a bit of rope.”

Chapter Fifty-Two

Tuesday, May 21. 8:49 p.m.

Rachel stirred on the couch. She’d drifted off there lying next to Terry when she should have just gone to bed. The past twenty-four hours had been an insane see-saw of emotions for her, and that alone—never mind the lack of sleep—had knocked her out. She opened an eye and saw that the place next to her was empty, though the table lamp was still on and the TV was playing commercials with the sound almost off. Where had he gone?

Something crashed in the hallway.

Her eyes opened all the way. It sounded as if something had just hit the wall.

There was another thud, and she pushed her feet off the couch and stood up. She had only taken two steps toward the hall when the reason for the noise came to her.

Anders and Terry fell into the front room, both men locked in a wrestling cinch. Terry kneed Anders in the groin, but the bigger man pulled back an arm and slugged Terry in the gut. They both struggled not to double over. Anders drove his shoulder into Terry, pushing him towards the couch, but the other man fought back with a clip to Anders’s jaw.

“I warned you to get away from my family,” Anders said. He pounded his right fist into Terry’s belly again and again.

“Didn’t anyone…ever…tell you…what…divorce means?” Terry gasped, rolling back from Anders’s punches and then pushing off to slam a shoulder into the other man’s chest, linebacker-style.

“Didn’t anyone…ever…tell you…to keep your hands…off another man’s…woman?” Anders spat back. With each word he landed a roundhouse volley of punches against Terry’s gut and chest.

“That’s enough!” Rachel screamed, and kicked Anders as hard as she could in the back of the leg. Her ex lost his balance just as Terry caught him with a hook to the jaw, and Anders went down on one knee. He was starting to get up, eyes full of fury when a voice came from the hall.

“What’s going on?” Eric asked.

“Your father’s being an ass,” Rachel said.

Terry took that opportunity to back away from Anders, disengaging from the fight as the other man started to stand again.

“Dad, what are you doing?” Eric asked. He rubbed his eyes with a fist.

Something clicked in Anders’s head, and he stopped himself from going after Terry again. Both men backed up to opposite sides of the room, breathing heavily.

“I want to take you and your mom home again,” Anders said, between gasps. “You’ve been gone long enough.”

Eric frowned. “Please don’t hurt Terry,” he said. “He’s been really nice to us.”

“I’ll bet he has,” Anders said. His voice sounded nasty.

“This is ridiculous,” Rachel said. “I always knew you were a Neanderthal, but do you really think you can just throw me over your shoulder and drag me back to your cave? Seriously?”

She walked over to Anders and stood in front of him, staring straight into his eyes. “It’s over,” she said. “It was good for us once. But people change. I don’t want that anymore. I don’t want you anymore. You have to let this go. You have to let
me
go. If you want your son to respect you, then you need to act like a man, not an ape.”

Anders began to raise his arm towards her, as if to slap her, but Rachel didn’t budge. And before his palm was halfway up, he let it drop.

“I just wanted my family back,” he said. His voice was dangerously quiet.

“You need to move on,” Rachel said. “You need to start a new family with someone. And don’t make the same mistakes you did with us. That’s what I am trying to do with my life here.”

“Let’s all just sit, and chill out for a little bit,” Terry suggested.

“There’s some beer in the fridge,” Rachel suggested. “Or I could make some coffee.”

Anders rubbed his jaw, and nodded. “Beer’d be good,” he said. Then he looked at Eric. “Go on back to bed, boy. Everyone’s all right.”

Rachel gave Eric a hug, and then walked him back down the hall to his room.

Terry nodded towards the kitchen. “You want to talk?”

Anders shook his head. “Not really.” He walked into the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the table.

Terry nodded, and pulled out a chair on the other side of the table. The two men sat in silence until Rachel came back.

“Figures,” she said. “Neither one of you knows how to serve yourself.”

She pulled open the refrigerator door and brought three Yuengling lagers to the table. Nobody spoke as the tabs popped, almost in unison.

Anders tilted his back and gulped three long swigs. Terry sipped his, rubbing his jaw at the same time.

“Anyone really hurt?” she asked.

The two men shook their heads.

“We need to get out of here tomorrow,” Rachel said. “And I think we’ll have better luck if you’re not trying to tie us up or beat us up. So here’s what we’re going to do…”

Chapter Fifty-Three

Wednesday, May 22. 5:30 a.m.

“The flies are gone!”

Eric was kneeling on the couch in front of the picture window in the front room. Rachel walked up behind him, rubbing her eyes. It was barely dawn and she hadn’t gotten much sleep. Understandably. Anders had promised to behave, but it was hard to trust him. It had
always
been hard to trust him, but after last night’s stunt? She’d made Eric lock his door from the inside, and she and Terry had done the same.

But when she wasn’t thinking about what her ex-husband might try next, she was thinking about bugs. Every few minutes, she’d felt an itch or tickle or something on her legs or her arms, and she’d slapped a hand over the area, sure that she was killing a spider.

But her hand always came back empty, though her skin burned from her attacks. Each time Terry stirred beside her…she knew she was keeping him awake too. She couldn’t shake it though. Her skin kept
crawling
with the thoughts of tiny legs creeping over her pores.

The living room was still shadowed in the early morning light. Anders had left the guest room and was lying on the couch. She hoped he was dead.

“Look, Mom,” Eric said as she walked up. “It’s all clear!”

Rachel peered through the fuzz of web that now obscured the view of the front yard. The spiders had apparently continued their work from the side yard to extend their web all the way around the house. But Eric was right…beyond the occasional scurry of eight black legs across the web outside, the air outside appeared clear.

“Eye of the hurricane?” Terry suggested, walking up behind them. He put a protective hand around Rachel’s midsection.

“Our cue to get the hell out of this hellhole,” a heavy voice croaked from the couch.

Rachel’s heart sank. He
wasn’t
dead.

“We have food and water here,” Terry began to argue, but Anders shut him down.

“If I can get Eric to the truck without being bit, he and I are leaving here. It’s not safe. You two can stay here and be eaten alive, or come with us. That’s your choice. But Eric and I are leaving.”

“Where will we go?” Eric asked.

“Anyplace but here,” Anders said. “I didn’t see any spider webs ’til I hit this creepy town.”

“I want mom to come too,” Eric said.

Anders stood up with a grunt. “That’s up to her,” he said. “I’ll take all of you.”

Rachel looked at Terry, who held her gaze. After a second, he nodded.

“We’ll all go,” Rachel announced. “But first we need to pack some food and clothes.”

“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” Anders said. He walked to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator and upended a plastic jug of milk to his lips.

Rachel closed her eyes and bit back her complaint. She hated it when Anders drank straight from the jug. And he didn’t even live here! This was just his way of showing her that he still “owned” her. But she refused to rise to the bait. She didn’t need to rile him up just before getting into a car with him. Instead, she walked to the bedroom to pull down a suitcase from the closet shelf.

The spiders had wreathed the entire house in a web thick as a cocoon. Rachel stood in the doorway that led out of the kitchen and into the carport. There was spider web everywhere. And as she stared, she could see the shadows moving in the tunnels that led throughout the enormous web. The flies may have left, but the spiders were still working on building a fortress around her house.