Nasty Little F___ers-Kindle (13 page)

BOOK: Nasty Little F___ers-Kindle
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“Damn it, Sarge,” he said. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“Sorry, Edison,” Colby replied. “But… ah… is there?” He pointed at the bacon, the gesture emphasized by a timely grumble from his belly that sent Janice into a brief fit of giggles.

Edison smiled. “Yeah, come on over. I made plenty.” He gestured to a plate on the table that Colby hadn’t noticed. It was covered with a paper towel, but he clearly saw the spots where the bacon grease had soaked through the thin material, rendering it translucent. Another plate sat next to it. Eggs, he guessed. His stomach lurched, and he waked to the table, followed by Janice.

It was only bacon and eggs, but after two days of nothing but jerky, it looked like a banquet. Colby sat down and attacked the cooling meat with ravenous abandon, shoving pieces into his mouth and washing them down with water from a plastic cup. The eggs fared no better as he and Janice devoured them. Colby would have liked to have some toast to mop up the broken yolks, but he wasn’t going to complain.

Edison brought over the pan and set it on a flat stone in the middle of the table, then he served up the most recent batch of bacon and eggs, putting it all onto plates in front of them. When he got everything settled, Edison sat down to eat, too. He didn’t attack the food the same way Colby and Janice had, but he ate plenty, just the same.

“I nibbled on everything while it was cooking,” he explained. “It took the edge off.”

Colby nodded. He’d figured as much, anyway. The three ate the rest of their meal in comfortable silence.

***

Moretz retched into the bushes. Even fifty or so yards away, the stench of burning meat from the camp stung his nostrils and caused his stomach to churn. Disgusting!

“How can they cook that shit?” he asked Allen. “They’re ruining it.”

Allen, similarly afflicted, nodded, but said nothing.

Fire sears all the flavor out of meat
, Moretz thought.
Far better to eat it raw
. He stepped away from the fresh pile of vomit, which he noted was mostly blood, and tried to get farther away from the campsite. Finally, at about a hundred yards out, the smell proved tolerable. Still there, but now it was only annoying rather than sickening. He thought about circling to the west and getting upwind of the smell, but that wouldn’t do. When Sarge and the others started moving, they would head East, and Moretz, Allen, Bock, and Steinman would need to stay ahead of them on the path until they could find a good spot to attack.

The plan was simple. Bock and Steinman would flit through the woods on either side of the group, making noises and throwing rocks or branches, hopefully drawing fire from Edison and Sarge. If they got hit, so be it. It’s not like it would hurt them anyway. Once the grubs got the neural connections set up again, off they would go.

As soon as Sarge and Edison ran out of ammo, they would be vulnerable, and Moretz’s group would attack. He had every confidence it would work.
After all
, thought Moretz,
there’s four of us and only three of them, and Janice is a woman.

Was she ever, too. He pictured her frail arms and weak legs and smiled. Soon his time would come, and Janice could finally drop her odd charade and reveal her interest in him. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her. What a great time they’d have.

Chapter Sixteen

The tangy smell of sweat mingled with the smells of trees and soil. Colby checked his watch. Almost noon. They’d been walking for over four hours. His shirt was soaked through. Both he and Edison had long ago shed themselves of all but an undershirt, and now Colby pulled his off and slung it over his shoulder. He’d probably get bitten by a hundred mosquitoes in the humid, sticky July forest, but it was worth it to feel even the slightest breeze on his skin.

Edison noticed, and took his last shirt off, as well. Colby looked over at Janice, and couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for her. She not only kept her T-shirt on, but she still wore her long sleeve, khaki-colored blouse, though both were soaked through with sweat. He knew she wouldn’t remove the T-shirt, but the blouse? She must be dying under all that material.

“Let’s take a break, guys,” he said, more for her benefit than anything else.

Edison nodded and plopped down next to the pale white trunk of a birch. He grunted, pulled out his canteen, and unscrewed the top.

Colby caught Janice glaring at him. If he didn’t know better he’d have thought she was mad at him for stopping. Crazy! But soon she, too, settled her back to the trunk of a tree and pulled out her own canteen. She lifted it to her lips and took a long pull, then screwed the cap back on, leaned back against the tree, and shut her eyes. Colby got the message; she wanted to be left alone.

He squatted next to Edison, whose breathing was just starting to even out.

“You okay?” he asked.

Edison nodded. “We… I used to hike at Mount Blue every summer,” his eyes darted toward Janice, then back to Colby, “but it wasn’t anything like this.”

Colby laughed. “No, I guess not.” Mount Blue was a nice little campground down in southern Maine, off Route 4. He’d been there a time or two. Nice lake, showers, canoe and kayak rentals, and of course, hiking trails. Some of the trails were pretty intense, too, but hiking along an established trail, even a rough one, is nothing compared to beating your way through unspoiled forest. Colby would give anything to be on a Mount Blue trail right now; even The Chimney would be preferable.

“At least the bugs are the same,” he said.

Edison laughed. “Bastards sure are hungry today.”

“It’s the sweat,” Colby replied. “They smell it and it brings them running.”

Edison nodded.
Hell
, Colby thought,
Edison probably knew that already.

“We should probably eat something while we’re stopped,” Colby said. “It’s lunch time, anyway.”

All three reached into their bags and pulled out some food. Some leftover bacon from the morning’s breakfast and a handful of biscuits. All of them had bags of jerky, too, but it would be best to eat the bacon first since it was the most likely to spoil. Colby pulled out a bag with half a dozen strips of bacon and popped a piece into his mouth, then washed the salty meat down with another swig of lukewarm water.

They ate in silence. Colby thought about their direction; they’d been heading due east ever since they left camp. By his estimate they’d gone maybe eight or ten miles. Not that far out here, and not far enough to get a signal on his cell phone. He hoped they would be in range soon, but at a speed of two miles per hour he doubted it would happen before noon the next day, at the earliest.

Northern Maine is a sparsely populated wilderness; and cell phone towers would be few and far between. But they just needed a weak signal, something they could use to make a call. His phone had a GPS locator, so a rescue team shouldn’t have much trouble finding them. Of course, no one would even be looking for them until they got near a tower. Unless they died out here, then next week when the supply chopper showed up and found the camp empty they would probably start looking.

Of course, by then Colby, Edison, and Janice would be scattered around the forests as various piles of fertilizer. It’d be a miracle if the search party ever located some of their bones. Colby shook his head, he wouldn’t bet on that.

Wolves, coyotes, bears, or even a mountain lion would probably feast on their bodies while the searchers looked everywhere. Colby made every effort to mark their trail, but that didn’t mean anything. If only they’d brought some spray paint, then they could have left a clear trail for the team to follow.

Even then, the trail would most likely lead to their bodies unless they could pick up a fucking signal.

“What’s wrong?” Janice asked. Colby turned and found her staring at him.

“What?” he asked.

“You aren’t eating.” She pointed to the half eaten strip of bacon in his hand. She and Edison had both already eaten their lunches and were, apparently, just waiting for him.

“Nothing,” he said, and shoved the rest of the bacon in his mouth. This morning it was delicious, but now it tasted like cardboard. “We should get going.”

Edison stared at him for a few seconds, then nodded. By the expression on his face, Colby knew the man suspected something wasn’t right, but he didn’t ask. Colby could have hugged him for that. Janice shouldered her pack and waited, hands on hips, for the two men to be ready.

“I have to use the facilities,” Edison said as Colby started to pack his gear. He walked out into the woods and disappeared into the trees.

“Don’t go too far,” he warned. “We don’t know who, or what, might be out there.”

Edison didn’t respond, and Colby went back to repacking his bag. Edison should be okay; he still had the pistol, after all. If any of the Grub Zombies, as Edison called them, came after him he could shoot them. Colby reached behind him and felt the stock of the rifle, drawing reassurance from its presence.

“How much farther, do you think?” Janice asked, placing her hands on his shoulders. Colby, remembering his conversation with Edison, shrugged away from her touch, but tried to mask it by pointing at his phone. He couldn’t tell if she bought it or not, but the last thing he wanted right now was a reminder that she’d be gone soon.

“We just need to get close enough to get a signal,” he said.

“But how far will that be?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe another ten miles, maybe twenty. There’s no way to know for sure.”

“You mean we could be walking out here for days?” Janice’s forehead crinkled in a frown.

Colby nodded. She was starting to understand.

“We might not make it out,” Janice said. “That’s what you’re not telling me, isn’t it?”

Colby didn’t answer. He couldn’t bring himself to admit the truth. They were probably going to die out here.

Janice stepped closer to him, reaching out her hand to his cheek. Colby stepped back, mindful of Edison nearby. Edison wasn’t a bad guy, not once you got to know him. And he’d be damned if he let the guy hurt any more on his account.

“What’s wrong?” Janice asked, confusion evident on her face.

“Nothing,” Colby replied. “I just don’t think this is the best time.” He glanced over his shoulder, looking for Edison.

Janice grabbed his chin and turned his head back to face her. She looked over his shoulder to the woods where Edison had gone, then back to Colby. She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. Her frown deepened. Even mad, she was beautiful. “What did he tell you?”

“I—”

Edison’s scream cut him short.

***

Moretz and Allen walked along, paralleling Sarge’s group, while Bock and Steinman shuffled along behind and dripped bits of themselves onto the forest floor. The two could barely walk, and Moretz wondered how much longer they would be useful. Sooner or later an arm would fall off, or a leg, or a foot. Then what? The body would just fall while the grubs continued to feast, he supposed, but that wouldn’t do him or Allen any good. If only the grubs didn’t eat so damn fast.

It’s not their fault
, he told himself.
They’re just hungry.
He could relate. The grubs were ravenous, but then, they had an upcoming transformation to support, and they’d need all the energy and raw materials they could get.
It’s not easy to metamorphose on an empty stomach,
he supposed.

The sound of screaming brought him up short, and Allen bumped into him from behind.

“Hey,” Allen began. Then he stopped and cocked his head.
He must hear, it too.

“That sounds like Edison,” Allen said.

Moretz nodded, wondering what Sarge was doing to the man to make him scream so much. The son of a bitch was going to pay for it whatever it was.

A shot rang out, loud and sudden in the otherwise still air of the woods. Then another. Finally a third shot, and then the screaming stopped.

Moretz and Allen looked at each other. Allen’s features drew into a frown.

“He killed him,” Allen said.

Moretz nodded. “Sounds like it.”

“Did we need him?”

Moretz thought about that for a moment. Edison was a scientist, sure, but his field was mostly in computers and equipment. For them to succeed, they needed more of the natural sciences, like Allen’s entomology and Janice’s knowledge of botany. Would they really need Edison when the grubs hatched from their pupae?

“No,” he said. “No, probably not.”

“Good,” Allen said. Moretz had to agree.

“At least it’ll give us another body for the time being,” Moretz added, pointing behind them at their two dead comrades. Steinman listed hard to the right, it was only a matter of time before he fell over completely and never rose again. Bock was bigger, with more mass and muscle; it would take a few more hours before his body passed the point of uselessness. By then they would have Sarge and Janice in their group anyway and it wouldn’t matter.

“You don’t think they’ll try and take the body with them?”

“Not a chance,” Moretz replied. “Edison might not be as big as Sarge, but that’s still a lot of extra weight to carry. They’re in survival mode now; they’ll leave his body for the scavengers.”

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