The Remedy (25 page)

Dale was more plant than human, but he was still alive.

Bugger leaned over so he could look at Dale at eye level—or rather, where his eyes would’ve been.

“Now what did I tell you, buddy?” As Bugger spoke, he made sure to keep his distance from the contagious hunter. “Didn’t I tell you not to take a dip in the lake? And just look at you now.” With a vigorous tug, he reached over to free the rusty cleaver with its blade buried in a cutting board. Bugger lifted it in front of Dale’s face, as if Dale could see anything.

“I bet you’re just begging for this, aren’t you? Just one quick chop and all the pain goes away.”

Leigh couldn’t believe her ears when a hissing noise came from Dale’s mossy lips like air escaping a flat tire. He was actually trying to speak.

“Oh, save your breath, fungus face.” Bugger flipped the cleaver into the air, the blade doing a full rotation before the handle landed back in his hand. “This isn’t for you. No, you’re a lucky one. You have something far better in store. Something that’ll make you feel all better.”

Bugger turned to his mother. “Now, Ma?”

Clementine returned a slow nod. “Go right ahead, son. It’s about time these two see the truth with their own eyes.” She tapped Grizzly’s arm. “Turn them so they can both see.”

Leigh felt her feet leave the ground as Grizzly effortlessly lifted the two chairs and spun them counterclockwise. She now had to crane her neck to the right to see Douglas Graham pinned down by Grizzly’s massive arms. Sam, now twisting his neck to the left, was seeing the third prisoner for the first time.

“Leigh,” he whispered, “close your eyes.”

Mother Cedar slammed the armrest of her wheelchair. “You do that and I’ll cut them right outta your skull.”

Knowing Clementine could be counted on to keep that promise, Leigh dared not even blink.

They started with his ear. The cleaver’s blade must have been dull because it took three big whacks to sever the cartilage. The forest ranger screamed through the duct tape sealing his mouth shut and trembled as if he were lying on a wire frame bed connected to a car battery. But even with the slick blood rushing over Grizzly’s hands, the giant held him securely in place as Bugger pinched his ear lobe and tore away the remaining strands of tissue.

Leigh kept telling herself it was just a movie, like that Quentin Tarantino flick that Marshall made her and Alex watch. But in the film, the camera had mercifully panned away when the psycho cut off the cop’s ear, and Leigh had only imagined what the amputation must have looked like, just like Tarantino intended.

She had pictured something gruesome, bloody and nasty—but in a million years she hadn’t been able to imagine this look of absolute pain on the victim’s face as the tissue of his fibers snapped like rubber bands.

Bugger, who’d been straddling Douglas as he performed his ghastly operation, swung his legs over his patient’s body and hopped off the table. He approached Dale, holding out the ear like a biscuit for an obedient dog.

“For Christ’s sake,” Clementine suddenly hollered. “Wear a glove, you fool.”

Sheepishly, Bugger marched over to a dust-covered cabinet and retrieved a pair of worn-out leather work gloves. Returning to Dale, he dangled the ear in front of his fuzz-covered lips.

“Open wide,” Bugger said as if addressing a child. “Here comes the airplane!”

Dale’s mouth parted uncertainly and accepted the ear on his dark green, swollen tongue. The fungus-covered lips closed and the mound of mushrooms on his chin began to bob up and down as he chewed.

Leigh gagged once. Twice. And then she couldn’t help herself any longer. She violently threw up a rancid, white, semisolid fluid, the only thing left in her stomach. Sam remained frozen.

“Good Lord, girl,” Clementine said as she shook her head. “Pull yourself together.” She looked over at Dale and saw that he was still chewing. “Bugger, dammit! That piece is too tough. Give him something he can swallow.”

“Sorry, ma.” Bugger paced back over to Douglas and pulled up the ranger uniform tucked into his pants. Douglas’s stomach and obliques were well toned. But Bugger was still able to pinch a chunk of fat from the man’s stomach, which he immediately began to work slicing off.

Again, Douglas screamed, slamming the back of his head so hard against the table that Leigh was surprised he didn’t knock himself out. Which was probably what he was trying to do.

The sliver of flesh, like the ear, didn’t come off with a quick incision. The muscles in Bugger’s forearms and biceps tensed as he sawed away the skin with the blunt edge of the cleaver. This particular hunk of meat didn’t come off with the same dry, snapping noise as before. Instead, upon removal it was wet, like slicing off a bite-sized piece of extra rare steak.

The flesh finally came free in Bugger’s hand, resting in his palm like a peach-colored slug. Douglas’s screams, while at first loud and furious, turned to weak whimpers as he started to cry.

Leigh began to weep as well.

“Stop,” she said between sobs. “For God’s sake, please stop.”

But Bugger ignored her pleading, too busy removing what was left of Douglas’s ear from Dale’s mouth and replacing it with the slippery morsel from his torso.

“There ya go,” he said to Dale. “That should slide right down.”

And indeed it did, with a single, sickening gulp. Leigh retched again, but this time there was nothing left to expel. Douglas, now weak from his struggles, looked to her with beseeching eyes. Through all his pain and suffering, the man couldn’t know that Leigh was as helpless as he. There was nothing she could do for him except pray that these sickos would finish what they started as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately, that was not the case.

“Hmm,” Clementine said, studying Dale. “I think we need to speed this up.” She looked to Bugger. “Drench him down. Use a foot.”

Before Leigh could even begin to figure out what that meant, Bugger was back at Douglas’s side, the cleaver coming down with mighty force. It connected just above the left ankle. Though it appeared Douglas had no fight left in him, the man thrashed against the painful blow, actually prying an arm free from Grizzly’s powerful hold. The giant regained the arm instantly, but the flail managed to loosen the tape covering the ranger’s mouth. With the tape dangling now from the corner of his lower lip, Douglas was able to release a tremendous scream.

“
Nooo
!” he wailed as the cleaver slammed into his ankle yet again. “Stop! Please,
stop
! Don’t!” But his screams did nothing to stop the blade from coming down, and with one final hack his foot was severed clean off. Bugger caught it just before it hit the floor. Grizzly clamped a colossal hand over Douglas’s mouth to muffle his shouts.

Rob leaned down to his aunt’s ear.

“Uh, Aunt Clemmy?” he asked. “Does he have to be…alive for all of this?”

Clementine turned a pair of understanding eyes up toward her nephew. “Oh, I’m sorry, Robbie. I forgot you’re not as used to this sort of thing as we are. But I’m afraid it’s all necessary. You see, with a case as bad as this one here, the meat and blood have to be as fresh as possible.”

As Clementine calmly explained this reasoning to her nephew, Bugger tilted the amputated foot over Dale’s head so the blood rained down over him. The crimson shower soaked both the man and the chair, leaving red streaks on both flesh and wood. When the last drop of blood had been emptied from the amputated extremity, Bugger tossed it into the corner of the cabin like a discarded beer bottle.

“Wow, Mama,” Bugger said, stepping back to admire his work. “You were right. That worked fast!”

Leigh managed to lift her head, which felt like it weighed one hundred pounds, and glanced over at the Tree Man still sitting in his chair.

Though splotches of fungus still spotted his face and body in a green patchwork of fuzz, the Tree Man had almost completely vanished. Dale Preston had begun to reclaim his body, his distinct features becoming more visible by the second. Not only was the fungus retreating from its all-out attack, Leigh could see sanity and comprehension returning to Dale’s mind. His expression was one of a man who’d just stepped out from a hot, relaxing Jacuzzi bath.

The expression didn’t last long as Bugger slammed the back of his head with the handle of the cleaver, knocking him unconscious before pointing at the mutilated Douglas, whose muffled screams continued under Grizzly’s palm.

“Might as well take care of that one, too, Grizz. He’s served his purpose now. Right, Ma?”

The moment his mother nodded, Grizzly raised a brick-sized fist high above his head. A second later, it came crashing down on Douglas’s skull with a thunderous
crack!
Douglas’s body twitched three times before lying still.

Wheeling her chair over so her face was only inches from Sam’s, she asked him, “Now do you believe me?” A cocky grin spread across her face as she gestured toward the unconscious Dale, who was now almost fungus-free.

Sam merely shrugged. “It truly is remarkable. But you’re still all a bunch of sick, murdering, redneck fucks.”

Before Clementine could offer a retort, either with her voice or the back of her hand, Bugger sprinted past her and snatched Sam’s face with his blood-slicked hand. His fingers dug into Sam’s cheeks, pushing hips lips apart like those of a fish.

“Oh, come on now!” Bugger said, furiously shaking Sam’s face. “Have you ever even
tried
a man’s flesh before? You just don’t know what you’re missing. It’s real tasty. Especially the way Ma makes it.”

Clementine patted her son on the back. “Why thank you, sonny boy.”

“Hell,” Bugger continued, “and not only that, but it’s real good for you. Makes you big and strong!” He pulled Sam’s face toward Grizzly. “Just take a look at my sister.”

Through his fish-shaped lips, Sam slurred the word Leigh was already repeating in silent disbelief.

“Sister?”

As carefully as one would handle a beautiful, delicate vase, Grizzly reached for the bottom of the bear mask and pulled it upward. Locks of greasy red hair tumbled out, falling onto Grizzly’s shoulders like dying serpents. The mask rose up over Grizzly’s head until Leigh and Sam could fully see the face beneath.

Her
face.

Leigh had never been so cruel to make fun of another’s appearance or call attention to someone else’s unfortunate physical flaws, especially another woman. But as she stared at the female juggernaut before her, Leigh couldn’t help herself from thinking:

That is the ugliest woman I have ever seen in my life
.

One narrow eye was lower than the other, and the thick unibrow resting on her protruding skull towered over both of them like a newspaper stand awning. Her nose was pulled up and pushed in as if it had been hit square on with the business end of a sledgehammer. A severe harelip severed her upper lip, revealing a single, jagged tooth underneath. A strand of drool hung from the corner of her mouth, a strand of saliva that she was seemingly unaware of dripping down her chin.

“Oh my God.” Leigh said, the words barely able to pass her quivering lips.

Clementine wheeled over to her daughter who knelt beside her. As the mother spoke, she ran a hand though Grizzly’s clumpy red dreads.

“Oh, God had nothing to do with her size. You see, when my daughter was only an infant, she came down with a real bad case of the fuzz. Covered most of her body, in fact. So for a whole year she ate nothing but human flesh until I was sure the illness was gone. But wouldn’t you know it? It’s been years since she was cured, but she still won’t eat anything else.” Clementine wiped away the clinging drool with the hem of her dress. “I guess she’s still scared of catching it again.”

Bugger released his grip on Sam’s face and pointed a teasing finger at his sister. “You big baby!”

“Now, let’s not get started,” Clementine yelled at her son. “We’ve still got to deal with these two.”

The words hit Leigh and bubbled like battery acid on her brain. After seeing one man’s harvested flesh hand fed to another man like party hors d’oeuvres, who knew how these people would deal with
them
.

“What…” Her first attempt at forming a sentence failed after the first word. She couldn’t seem to take a full breath. She tried again. “What are you going to do?”

As if the whole weight of the world had fallen upon her shoulders all at once, Clementine leaned back in her wheelchair like she was about to take an afternoon nap. A look of maudlin sadness came over her.

“Well, the truth is, honey, I’m getting’ old. And soon not even our remedy is gonna be able to do me any good.” The words came from her with as much gentleness as a grandmother receiving a visit from her grandkids.

But the illusion did not last any longer than it took the woman to speak her next sentence.

“So I figure if I’m ever gonna see any grandchildren, now’s the time. And that’s where you all come in.”

An icy hand squeezed Leigh’s heart, prickling her skin and tightening her buttocks. She darted her eyes over to Bugger, who just hours ago had molested her in the cellar. She could still feel his rough, filthy hands on her skin. His horrid, rancid mouth on her nipples. The idea of going through that again—and worse—

She couldn’t do it.

“No,” she whispered. She had never said anything that sounded so pathetic.

But Sam’s voice was a different matter altogether. He wrenched in his chair, trying desperately to loosen the knots that held him tight. Frothy saliva spat from his mouth like that of a rabid dog.

“I swear to God, if anyone lays a hand on her, I’ll fucking kill all of you.” He pulled his body forward as hard as it could go, but the ropes did not budge an inch. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Clementine furrowed her brow in complete awe. “Heavens, child!” she said with an smirk on her face. “What makes you think it’s just
her
I need?”

Sam’s frantic struggles stopped as suddenly as they had begun. The words froze him like liquid nitrogen. It took him about five seconds to figure out the meaning behind the old lady’s question, but when he did, he could look nowhere else but at Grizzly’s revolting visage.