The Remedy (17 page)

“Here,” Sam said, handing her the glow stick. “I’ll trade you.”

Leigh accepted it and silently wished she had seen the pile of glow sticks resting at the bottom of the box herself. Leigh handed over her “flare,” which Sam shoved in his back pocket.

“I’ll hang onto this,” he said grinning. “Just to be safe.”

Leigh looked to the floor, ashamed.

“I’m just teasing, Leigh.”

“I know. But you got us in here, got the radio working, and then found us some light. Me? I almost blew us up. So sue me if I feel like an asshole. I can’t help it. You must think I’m retarded.”

Sam cracked himself another glow stick. “First of all, I threw a rock through a window, flicked a switch, and dug to the bottom of a cardboard box. Wow, that’s so impressive. And for the record, I don’t think you’re retarded. I think you’re—”

Leigh looked into Sam’s eyes. He paused.

“—really cool.”

“Cool?” she replied, and burst out laughing.

Jesus Christ. Maybe I really am a ditz
.

But Sam seemed to be the embarrassed one. “What can I say? No one ever accused me of being suave.”

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Oh really? Then I guess I’d better do this before you wise up.”

While he came in fast, his kiss was soft and gentle. It took Leigh a moment to register what was happening, but as she felt his lips caressing hers, reality hit her in all of its thrilling ecstasy. Though they had consumed it hours ago, Sam’s breath still smelled of jerky, but Leigh didn’t care. She figured the same taste was lingering in her own mouth, and Sam didn’t seem to notice.

As Leigh gave into the surge of pleasure coursing through her body, she shut her eyes to savor the sensuous moment. But it was not darkness that Leigh saw behind her closed eyelids.

It was Eliza—cowering, crying, and begging for help.

Leigh’s eyes popped open. She threw her palms into Sam’s shoulders and pushed. He threw his hands up.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Leigh waved her hand. “No, it’s okay. It’s just—”

Sam cut her off. “We should get on the radio.”

“Right.”

It was all Leigh could say.

Sam turned away and walked over to the radio, leaving Leigh standing there, trying to control the electric current running through her body.

God, what is wrong with me? What the hell was I just doing?

Taking a deep breath, Leigh could feel her head reattaching itself to her shoulders.

Okay, time to return to Earth. Your friend needs you
.

A moment later, Sam was wearing the radio’s headphones and repeating into the microphone, “Can anyone hear me?” and “We need help, please respond.” She felt uncomfortable just standing around and doing nothing, so Leigh decided to check out the remaining space of the room. Perhaps she could find something useful this time, preferably something that wouldn’t blow them to kingdom come.

Using the glow stick as a torch, Leigh approached the wall to her right and examined the bulletin boards covering the walls. Most of the papers pinned to the boards were pamphlets and advisory messages that covered a myriad of topics: forest fire threat levels, warnings not to bring in outside firewood, a memo concerning a migrating beetle species that could bring severe damage to local tree life—none of the information seemed particularly helpful to their current situation.

Then Leigh came to another bulletin board, this one encased in glass. It seemed that while the other boards were for news and messages, this one was being used as a gallery. Several four-by-six photographs of different rangers were pinned across the board, cameos of men performing different occupational tasks. A humorous postcard lay crooked in the bottom corner that depicted a bunch of sheep blocking a tractor: a “Vermont traffic jam.”

But what really caught Leigh’s attention was a series of old newspaper clippings arranged in chronological order. Although the paper was yellowed and the ink had slightly faded, Leigh was still able to make out the capitalized headlines and the black-and-white photos that accompanied each one. The first article read:

DISEASED TREES CREATE PRODUCTION DELAYS AT SAWMILL
.

These words rested on top of a picture of a group of grumpy-looking mill workers who stood with their arms folded across their chests. They all stared down at a fallen tree, completely covered in moss.

Leigh read the next article headline:

MYSTERIOUS DISEASE THREATENS PERMANENT MILL CLOSURE
.

This time, a dead white-tailed deer lay at the feet of a mill worker, its tongue hanging from its mouth. Spread across its entire body, including its eyes, were patches of fungus. The mill worker standing above it wore a white surgical mask and long rubber gloves.

The final clipping was the worst of all.

SAWMILL CLOSES DUE TO WILDLIFE EPIDEMIC
.

The accompanying picture was similar to the last but for a single, drastic, difference: instead of a dead animal, a man now lay on the ground. Though a sheet covered most of his body, it failed to conceal the fingers of his left hand that poked out from underneath the material. By the looks of the man’s fungus-covered digits alone, one could tell his condition was identical to that of the dying hunter Leigh and Sam had stumbled upon in the woods earlier. She could easily picture what the rest of the body under the sheet must look like, covered in fuzzy mold from head to toe, like expired meat wrapped in a rotten burrito…

She gagged at the connection of this man to food.

“Damn it!”

Leigh’s feet practically left the ground at the sound of Sam’s cursing. She turned to see him tearing the headphones from his ears and throwing them at the radio’s frequency display.

“I can’t get anyone to respond.”

Leigh took one final glance at the horrific picture. “Did you try more than one frequency?”

“I tried a few,” Sam said. “But this note says what frequency is the ranger headquarters. And no one is picking up.”

“Well, it’s getting pretty late. Maybe they all went home.”

“Maybe,” Sam grumbled as he pushed his chair back and stood up. “I guess all we can do now is turn on the emergency distress signal.” He pointed to a switch labeled as such. After giving it a flip, a series of beeps began to sound on repeat.

“Morse code,” Sam said to himself.

Leigh listened to the string of beeps. “Do you know what it’s saying? Is it SOS?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders. “No clue. But it doesn’t really matter. It could be ordering us a Big Mac and large fries, but the important thing is that someone hears it eventually. I’m sure they’ll send someone to investigate when they finally get back.”

“So what now? Do you think we should wait?”

Sam removed his Expos cap and wiped his brow. It was hard to know for sure what was making him sweat, the Indian summer night or the tense state of current affairs. Or maybe he was still hot and bothered from what had occurred a few moments ago. Leigh was beginning to feel a little warm herself just thinking about Sam’s tongue running along the backside of her upper lip.

“No.” For a second, Leigh thought Sam had somehow read her thoughts and was denying her wish to relive their necking session. “We don’t know how long it’ll take them to respond, and I don’t feel right about leaving Rob and Eliza all by themselves for too long.”

“You’re right.” Leigh blinked a few times to shake the steamy memories still fixated in her brain. “So how about we leave a note for whoever comes here next? Tell them to come to the cabin and bring help?”

“Good idea. Let’s find a pen.”

It didn’t take long to find a writing instrument, as well as a discarded weather advisory report. Sam turned the piece of scrap paper over and scribbled their location and a request for help.

“There, it’s done.”

“Great,” Leigh said, walking toward the door. “Then let’s get out of here.”

Sam didn’t follow her and instead walked over to the stack of cardboard boxes. “Okay, just let me see if I can find some flashlights. It’s getting pitch black out there.”

Leigh went to unlock the front door. She brought the glow stick toward the latch that had previously caused them so much trouble.

Just as the bolt slid out of the lock with a
click
, the door flew open, coming within centimeters of slamming Leigh’s nose. Her startled scream was cut short when she realized who was standing in the doorway.

“Rob!” Leigh gave him her most incredulous stare. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry,” Rob said. His voice shook, his eyes locked for some reason on Sam. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sam stood up from his kneeling position by the stack of boxes. He gripped a flashlight in each hand, one the large lantern type and the other a long metal kind usually used by highway troopers. “How’d you find us?” he asked, walking over to join them.

Rob stared at him. “I saw the direction you guys headed and spotted the light coming from the cabin as I got close. I figured it had to be you.”

“But what the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be keeping an eye on Eliza!” Even though Leigh was yelling, Rob still wouldn’t look away from Sam.

“It doesn’t matter,” Rob said in an eerily calm voice. It was as if he was trying his hardest to contain his anger from erupting. “She’ll be fine.”

“What are you talking about? She’s really sick!” Leigh jabbed his shoulder. “You know what? Forget it. Just get out of the way. We’re going back now.”

Rob slammed the door shut before she could take another step.

“Not just yet.”

“Rob…” Leigh was doing her best to remain cool and collected. “What are you doing? Let me go.”

“Just shut up and listen to me for a minute, okay?” Rob removed his hand from the door but remained standing in front of it. “After you guys left I wanted to clear my head, so I grabbed a beer and sat down on the couch. And as I sat there and tried to sort out everything that’s been going on, I got to thinking. All of this just doesn’t add up.”

Leigh shook her head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this son of a bitch right here!”

Rob pointed his index finger at Sam’s chest like a deadly weapon. The explosion he’d been suppressing was finally coming forth.

Sam brought his arms up as if to physically shield himself from the accusation. “Whoa! I don’t know what you’re—”

Rob didn’t let him finish. “Shut up, asshole! And stay right where you are.”

Leigh took a step sideways and placed herself between the two men. “Rob, you’re acting crazy. You really need to calm down.”

“No! I don’t need to calm down. You need to
think
!”

“About what?”

“About how this guy led us through a forest infected with whatever is killing my girlfriend right now.”

Rob’s finger shook as it pointed, his hand and arm trembling with rage. In the most soothing voice she could muster, Leigh attempted to assuage his panic.

“Now, Rob, how was Sam supposed to know that was going to happen?”

“Jesus Christ, Leigh!” It was obvious her serene calming tone was to no effect. “The guy is
from
here! He said it himself.”

“Hey, man, that’s not what I said!” Sam took a careful step forward. “I grew up
near
here, okay?”

“Bullshit!” Rob shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. “And didn’t I say to shut your fucking mouth?”

“But I’m telling you, I had no idea! And I’m sorry about all this but I’m trying to help.”

Rob opened his mouth to yell again, but Leigh spoke first.

“Sam…”

But when she looked at him now, she suddenly saw something…different. Before, she had seen a boyishly cute guy with a shy demeanor that mirrored her own. She had seen a fellow outsider, someone eager to help if only to gain some friends. But now…

Now she saw a complete stranger. Someone who carried a knife and knew how to use it. Someone who didn’t hesitate to break windows. And someone who her friends had blindly let lead them into the woods. It was true: without Sam, Eliza would never have contracted the disease that was now killing her.

Leigh walked over to the glass-encased bulletin board. She opened the case and removed the old newspaper clipping, the final one with the deceased mill worker covered in fungus. She held the article up in Sam’s face.

“Are you telling us that you really had
no idea
about this?”

Sam stared at the disturbing picture and then looked uneasily at Leigh and Rob.

“I did know about what happened at the sawmill.”

Rob’s breath was as loud as a steam engine. “You son of a—”

“But this happened
years
ago!” Sam snatched the article from Leigh’s fingers and flipped it around so they could see it. “There hasn’t been a single case of this disease reported in my entire lifetime.”

Rob tried to push Leigh back but she held her arm up to block him.

“Stay cool, Rob.”

“But he knew!” Rob stamped his foot like a frustrated bull. “Come on, Leigh. You’re supposed to be the smart one. So for fuck’s sake, think about it. He was going to get us all infected, wait for us to end up like Eliza, ditch us, and take all of our shit. The guy’s a drifter, probably does it all the time.”

“That’s bullshit.” Sam no longer sounded desperate or afraid. His voice was now sharp with anger. “I don’t have to listen to this.”

“What, can’t explain yourself?” Rob gave a disdainful snort. “Big surprise. You’re going to pay for this, shithead.”

“That’s enough, Rob.” Leigh turned her back on Sam to get in Rob’s face. “You’ve made your point. I get it. Let’s just get back to the camp and deal with this there. I want to get back to Eliza right now.”

“And this guy’s coming with us?”

“We don’t know our way out.” Leigh motioned to Sam. “And he does. We need him.”

Rob looked over Leigh’s head to the guy behind her. “I don’t like this.”

Leigh reached out and squeezed Rob’s shoulder. “I know you don’t. But you trust me, right?”

Just like when they had left the cabin, Leigh spotted that same vulnerability that she would have never guessed Rob was capable of. He took a breath. “Yeah. I do,” he said.