Bones Omnibus (92 page)

“For what?” Jess asked. “To be their slaves until we all die on the Day of Armageddon?”

“They need me to impregnate their women, both humans and sasquatches,” Patrick said evenly. “They need you to carry the baby of one of their champions, this guy Tadodaho.”

At first, Jess didn’t think she’d heard right. This was clearly the punch line to a long and elaborate joke Patrick had spent the past five minutes laying out to her. But then she saw that he was dead serious, and she felt all the blood drain from her face.

“They want us to have
sex
with them? What the
fuck
are you telling me?”

“I’m telling you that buried in their DNA is this one gene that gives them immunity from the coming plague. But after centuries of inbreeding, the rest of their collective gene pool is getting fairly weak. They need an infusion of new blood or, in this case, foreign strands of DNA to keep their species alive past the apocalypse.”

That’s when Jess realized just how calm Patrick had been throughout this explanation. He was popping pieces of roast meat in his mouth in between gulps of water and bites of corn on the cob. There was a cocksureness to him that she hadn’t seen in the young man in any of their previous interactions.

“Holy shit,” Jess whispered. “You’ve already had sex with them. You’ve
already
had
sex
with…
them
!”

Patrick nodded as if admitting to nothing more than nabbing the last donut from the break room.

“I have, and was honored to do so.”

“How many?”

“Only four, three sasquatches and one young woman. One’s actual sperm count goes down in between too much to count for much, so I have to rest in between, eat, and recover, and so on. Then they’ll bring the next one who is ovulating to my chamber.”

“Then what?” Jess asked, incredulous.

“We copulate.”

Jess felt like throwing up.

“Jess! If you bear Tadodaho a child, they’ll treat you like a queen. Don’t you understand? They’ve got five or six other women here, runaways and lost hikers mostly, who are trying for the same thing, but they’re not having much luck. Time’s running out for a human to bring a baby to term before the end of mankind. I’m telling you. This is a good thing!”

Jess’s feeling became a reality. The entire contents of her stomach launched from her mouth and landed on Patrick’s lap. As she coughed and choked, he merely patted her back.

“My first reaction, too. I mean, in the beginning, it’s like having sex with a Wookiee. But then it becomes so much more, and you realize just how lucky you really are.”

Jess felt dizzy, the room spinning as she tried to raise her head. But some things were just not meant to be, and she passed out on the table.

It was late afternoon when Bones came across the yearling, just upwind. Its herd was about thirty-strong, but the young male had strayed, staying too long at a berry bush even as the rest had moved along. As the shepherd neared, the yearling raised its head and turned its ears half a dozen times, as if sensing the dog’s presence. But after a few seconds, it returned to its meal. At one point, it even took a few steps to follow the others, but then ducked its head to the ground and lapped up a few fallen berries.

Easy pickings.

Bones closed the distance between himself and the deer in seconds flat. The animal didn’t even have to look up to know danger was approaching. One moment, its nose was to the earth, the next, it was galloping off through the trees.

But the shepherd’s injured leg meant a chase was out of the question. Though he’d normally prefer to strike his prey in the neck, hoping to snap it and prevent a drawn-out fight, the yearling was too fast. Instead, Bones got as close as he could before the deer managed to get up to speed and lunged for its leg, knowing he only had one chance to get it right. His jaws found the deer’s right rear leg and bit down hard, snapping the bone. In the same beat, the shepherd threw his weight to the ground and twisted his head, halting the deer’s forward motion as he dislocated its leg.

Once the deer was on the ground, Bones leapt to his feet just as the yearling twisted its head around in an attempt to gore the dog with its short, albeit spike-covered horns. The shepherd rolled left and shot forward like a wrestler, gathering the deer’s throat in his mouth before pulling it out in one move. The yearling shuddered twice, its blood steaming off Bones’s maw, and died.

The shepherd stripped flesh from bone and began to feast.

W
hen Jess came to, she was in a different chamber altogether, this one smaller than the one in which she’d met Patrick. There were also far fewer candles, giving the place a more haunted feel. Rather than feel like a cave, though, Jess, on a bed of animal skins, imagined herself in a medieval castle. She looked up and saw that the ceiling had been painted as a star field, like something a child or developmentally arrested college freshman might have above their bed.

She couldn’t see past the tall doorway into the tunnel beyond, but soon realized that was because one of the sasquatches sat there, blocking almost all light.

“You are awake?” the sasquatch asked.

“You can talk?” Jess replied, realizing it was the first time she’d heard a voice emanate from one of the beasts.

“Yes,” it said simply. “It is not something that comes natural to us. We communicate in other ways. Actual speech feels antiquated.”

“Ah.”

The sasquatch smiled in what looked to Jess like a self-deprecating way.

“How are your injuries?”

Jess started. She knew instinctively that she should be in pain, but there was none. She moved around, even sat up, but felt fine. The sasquatch nodded.

“It was in your food. I’m afraid some of it upset your stomach, but it also served to heal you.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I threw up for other reasons,” Jess assured the sasquatch. “But maybe that’s why I passed out. You are Tadodaho, aren’t you?”

“How did you guess?”

“I was told I’d be having sex with someone, and I wake in a bed,” she said, then drew back the animal skins. “Also, I’m naked.”

Tadodaho nodded, then pointed into the corner.

“If you’re cold or would simply be more comfortable, your clothes are over there.”

Jess looked. Sure enough.

“Does that mean we’ve already…copulated?”

“No, in fact,” said Tadodaho, getting to his feet and nearing the bed. “Your clothes were covered in blood and bile. I washed them for you and dried them over burning rocks. You should find them in good condition except for the damage done out in the forest.”

This wasn’t what Jess was expecting. Tadodaho moved closer, saw the incredulity in her eyes, and looked down again.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It will sound horrible.”

“More horrible than what I’ve witnessed already?”

“Possibly not,” Tadodaho replied. “This is just difficult for me.”

“The slow buildup and self-rationalizing you have to conjure to force yourself on me?” Jess offered. “Or trying to talk me into believing it’s not like that?”

Tadodaho snorted.

“No, the act itself. It’s not something I can comprehend.”

Wait…what
?

“The act of what, precisely?”

“Having sex with a human animal. I am attracted to members of the opposite sex of my own species but have never found a human arousing.”

“Oh,” Jess managed, another conversation having taken the turn for the surreal. “You don’t
want
to have sex with me?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” the sasquatch replied. “There’s less of a choice than you make it sound. It is important to the survival of both our species that we do. We
must
copulate in hopes of creating offspring. And my genes have been deemed superior by Orenda and the rest of the tribal elders. I am soon to begin a cycle of impregnation attempts on the human females. It is this that so upset Onatah that she launched the attack into the park.”

“The sasquatch that was killed? That was your mate?!”

“My ‘mate’? We had not ‘mated,’ but we hoped to do so one day. But after it was decided I was to mate the human females, she went on a rampage.”

My sasquatch is a virgin
, Jess thought.
And his beloved killed my friends. Forget law, I’ll be selling this story to the tabloids and talk shows for years
.

“Couldn’t you have done both?” Jess suggested. “Have it off with her and the ‘human females’?”

“And continue to weaken the gene pool?” Tadodaho scoffed. “‘One more mouth to feed is one too many,’ Orenda says. I fear she’s right.”

“And that bitter taste in your mouth will affect your ability to father our future child how?”

The sasquatch laughed long and hard, as if he needed it. Only at first, Jess thought she’d pissed him off, and the raising of his head and the opening of his mouth was preamble to a vicious attack. When his body shook, his eyes closed, and his lips curled into a smile, Jess couldn’t suppress a grin.

“So, when’s this copulation to take place?” she asked.

“Right now,” Tadodaho replied straightforwardly. “Orenda says that you’re ovulating right now, in fact. She also said that she thought you were the most fertile of our newcomers.”

Jess’s eyes flitted down to the sasquatch’s nether regions for the quickest of moments before she forced herself to look away. She hadn’t seen anything, as there was too much hair, but she disgusted herself with the very impulse.

“It’s okay,” said Tadodaho. “I remember being curious the first time I ever glimpsed one of the females of the human tribe bathing in the river. It was a completely foreign sight and, well, repellant. But as I suppose it called to mind the genitals of the females of my own species, it was still alluring.”

“We’re never going to get anywhere,” Jess admitted, surprising herself by saying “we.” “This is just too crazy.”

That’s when Tadodaho stepped back into the tunnel and returned with a bucket that appeared to be filled with liquid.

“Apple wine?” Tadodaho offered.

Jess laughed.

“Oh, my God! You’re like every guy I met in college. It’s that easy, huh? Two sips of that, and I’ll forget all my inhibitions?”

Tadodaho shrugged.

“To hear Orenda tell it…”

“You rely on her wisdom a lot, huh?” Jess interrupted. “Does she really know magic? It seems more like you sasquatches are the muscle around here and these little descendants of witches tend the crops and keep you happy.”

“To hear
Orenda
tell it,” the sasquatch continued, more amused than irritated, “this is what fueled the very first cross-species pollination between our two peoples hundreds of years ago, and the practice has continued ever since. It is, in fact, what other members of my tribe have resorted to with the other females of yours and vice versa.”

“Patrick?”

“Actually, no. It was explained to him, he met the first he was to copulate with, and they went at it almost immediately. I have heard that it was not a pleasant experience for the female, who advised the others to partake before approaching him, but your friend seemed satisfied.”

“Again. Like all men.”

“If that is how your species is reduced to organizing the process of intercourse, I’m not surprised overpopulation isone of the primary drivers of the coming apocalypse.”

Jess chuckled and reached for the apple wine. She sniffed it, lifted it to her lips, and took a drink. It was warm, but good, like apple cider that reveals its alcoholic content only in the aftertaste.

“This is good,” she said, taking another sip. “You want some?”

“Thank you,” the sasquatch replied, taking the bucket.

They passed the bucket back and forth that this for a couple of minutes, peppering their conversation with gallows humor and wry observations about the differences in their bodies. Jess shed the animal skins at one point to tell a story and was shocked to see that the sasquatch had an erection poking through the copious amount of hair covering its pelvic region.

“Wow. That didn’t take much. My genitals reminding you of those of another of your species?”

“Are mine?” Tadodaho shot back, with a grin.

Jess took another swig from the wine bucket and nodded.

“Yes, but it’s slightly larger than I’m accustomed to. You’ll make allowances?”

“Of course,” Tadodaho replied, as if offended she’d even ask.

Jess rolled over and blew out a few of the candles, and the sasquatch climbed onto the bed.

“Maybe not
too
many allowances,” Jess revised as she rolled onto her back. “But let’s take things slow.”

It took Bones most of the night to reach the sasquatch’s mountain encampment. The scents of the multiple sentries positioned on platforms in the trees reached him from a hundred yards away. There was no fear in their smell. They clearly were not expecting company.

As the shepherd neared, he wound around the various manmade traps and trip lines designed to alert the tribe to large animals and outsiders. But the dog had been trained from early on to be exacting in his steps and navigated around until he found an unobstructed path through the tribe’s cornfields that led him to the base of the rocks.

A sasquatch had just emerged from one of the lower caves. It looked out into the night as if considering an evening constitutional. When it spied Bones, its lips curled back in a snarl and it bent low, baring its teeth. It extended its arms, its clawed fingers silhouetted in black against the flickering torch light coming from the cave.

By the time it bellowed out a howl of warning to its compatriots, the shepherd was only a couple of feet away. The cry was cut off almost before it began as Bones collided with the beast’s upper torso, his teeth grinding into the sasquatch’s voice box. The monster gurgled a little, then collapsed.

Several more sasquatches and human tribesmen and women emerged from the caves, and moved toward the dog even as arrows flew in from the sentries on the platforms. Rather than be daunted, Bones merely lowered his head, growled, and charged the nearest biped.

In moments, the body parts and corpses of several of the tribe were strewn on the ground.