that.
Looking up from the card, he noticed that the flow of blood from the wounds on Gerald’s arms and chest had stopped. In fact, those wounds were already dried and scabbed over. As the older man shifted upon the ground, the flesh beneath his tattered clothes actually held together. “Don’t try to move,” Cole said. “You probably shouldn’t be sitting up.”
Anyone with eyes could tell that Gerald shouldn’t even be breathing.
Gerald nodded as his scowl faded. He was sitting up straight, blinking slowly and absently rubbing his stomach as if he had indigestion rather than gaping wounds. The older man must have shifted within his shredded clothes, because the flesh that was visible through those rips was only scratched and smeared with blood.
Cole found his cell phone right where it should be. The cold piece of plastic felt like a little slice of home, and he merely had to snap it open to get that comforting bit of technology to come to life. Although the phone’s screen showed the picture he’d downloaded brightly and clearly, it also showed him two disheartening words: NO SIGNAL. He didn’t like leaving Gerald there, but he suddenly had a lot to do. He thought about where he might find a medical kit, some clean blankets, or even any survivors who’d escaped during the attack. Then again, he also realized that if any other survivors had somehow escaped the creature, they weren’t about to be tracked down by a panicked game designer from Seattle. Focusing on what he actually could do, he headed back to the cabin
The inside of the lodge didn’t look any better now than the last time he’d been there. He stepped over human remains without actually paying attention to what was in front of him. When the smells got too strong to bear, Cole opened his mouth and breathed that way.
“Bad idea,” he groaned as soon as the smells were translated into tastes and reached down to his stomach.
The cabin hadn’t grown in the last few minutes, so he spotted the bags scattered near the entrance fairly quickly. After spending so many hours packed into that truck, he didn’t have any trouble picking out which of those bags had been wedged between Gerald’s feet throughout the ride.
“I got it!” Cole yelled as he hurried outside while holding up the bag as if he expected to get a prize.
Grateful to fill his lungs with fresh air, he walked about three more steps before he grunted, “Damn. I was going to get a medical kit while I was in there, but I got distracted.” He stopped a few yards shy of where Gerald was laying and set the bag down. “Actually, distracted isn’t the word. Disgusted is more like it. In fact,” Cole said as he swallowed a bit of bile that gurgled to the top of his throat, “how about we talk about something else? Or… since you weren’t talking about it…why don’t I stop talking about it?” He laughed nervously, but cut himself short as soon as he saw that Gerald wasn’t laughing. In fact, he wasn’t reacting at all.
He wasn’t even moving.
“Gerald?”
He had to be certain that Gerald was dead before he would leave him there to freeze. As soon as he reached out to feel for Gerald’s pulse, he was introduced to something even worse than the stillness he’d been expecting.
Beneath the collar of Gerald’s coat, dark gray marks stained his neck as if dozens of threadlike tendrils were creeping beneath his flesh. The lines also snaked along Gerald’s arm from beneath his sleeves. For a second Cole swore he saw those lines shake like shadows being cast by a flickering light. A small syringe still protruded from the middle of the dark marking on Gerald’s wrist.
“Oh my God,” Cole muttered as he reached out with one hand to touch the vein in the side of Gerald’s neck. What he felt instead of a pulse was the last, desperate twitch of another dark tendril wriggling somewhere between the meat of Gerald’s flesh and the outermost layer of his skin. Those dark gray filaments stretched and strained as if doing their best to reach Gerald’s throat from the inside.
Cole snapped his arm back with so much force that he nearly sprained his own elbow. A flurry of obscenities poured out of him as he jumped to his feet and backpedaled from Gerald’s body until the back of his heel knocked against the bag he’d brought from the cabin and his backside thumped against the snow. The sight of Gerald’s contorted face was repulsive, but also mesmerizing. The gray threads kept sliding beneath Gerald’s flesh, wriggling like frantic tadpoles.
“He’s dead,” Cole said to himself. “He’s dead. That’s all I need to know.”
Snatching up a flannel shirt from inside Gerald’s bag, he ran toward the road so he could signal for any vehicle that might pass by. He made it about seven paces before remembering what the old man had told him and the plan of action they’d agreed upon. He felt like an idiot for agreeing to any of those orders.
Then he heard a howl in the distance.
It wasn’t like anything in the movies or nature shows he’d seen on TV. It was powerful and pained at the same time. It could have drifted through the air from miles away or it could have originated from the closest row of trees.
Cole laughed to himself and shook his head. “I gotta be out of my damned mind.”
Turning toward the cabin, he took another few steps and heard the howl again. It came from that direction.
He didn’t know if there were survivors, where they would have gone or how long ago they’d started running. What he did know for certain was that the only thing he could do if he found that creature was make it sick by clogging its stomach with his own body.
Hefting the bag over his shoulder, Cole turned from the cabin and ran.
Chapter 5
Cole ran until his legs could no longer carry him. Surrounded by tall trees and with the cabin nowhere in sight, he felt safe. Then he realized the creature was probably more at home in those trees than it had been inside the cabin. Dropping Gerald’s bag, he leaned against the nearest tree and slid down the trunk until he was seated with his legs splayed out in front of him.
“What the hell do I do now, Gerald?” he asked aloud as he laughed and leaned his head back against the tree. “Come on! You wanna guide me? Show up and guide me! What’s the matter? There are monsters, but no ghosts? Of course there aren’t any ghosts! A ghost would be too fucking helpful right now, so heaven forbid one might actually show up to make my life easier!”
Cole was suddenly very conscious of the fact that sweat was freezing onto his forehead. When he tried to touch his brow, he cracked the handle of Brad’s knife against his head. Having forgotten he was even carrying the knife, he set it down so he could open the bag and sift through it. Some of Gerald’s clothes were in there, along with a shaving kit, books, a pair of glasses, and then all the way at the bottom he came upon an object that made him smile.
Recognizing the brand of the satellite phone in his hand, Cole fought the urge to kiss it. “Screw it,” he muttered as he placed his lips upon the plastic cover and gave it some love. He almost gave it some more when he flipped open the cover and saw one bar of signal strength showing up on the display. Sure enough, the phone was connected to a satellite service that had always been too expensive for him to use. He took Gerald’s laminated card from his pocket and read it over so he could be sure to dial the correct number. The last thing he wanted to do was waste battery life on stupid mistakes. After checking the number once more, he pressed the Send button and held the phone up to his ear.
There were a few clicks, followed by a series of beeps. Then, like a song from an angel, there came a ring tone. Finally, someone answered.
“Hello, this is MEG Branch 40,” said the voice on the other end of the connection. It wasn’t an angel and it sure as hell didn’t sound like someone who would be named Meg.
“Uh, hello?” Cole replied.
“This is MEG Branch 40. How can I help you?” The voice on the other end sounded like a man at least ten years his junior, and more than a little perturbed. After sighing heavily, the man asked, “Are you looking for anyone in particular or do you have an instance to report?”
“An instance?” Cole chuckled to himself and let out a breath. “I sure do have an instance, but I don’t think
