by Dawn, M. K.
Cell phones helped ease some of the worry, when John remembered his. She swore he forgot it on purpose sometimes. He denied it, but the twinkle in his eyes didn’t lie.
At midnight, Britney started to pace around the room, cell phone in hand, contemplating a call to Patty. After everything the woman had gone through tonight, Britney didn’t want to wake them, but she also needed to know where her husband was.
She scrolled through her contacts and selected Patty’s number. With a trembling finger hovering over the Call button, she grappled with whether to call. She tended to overreact, her mind fixating on the worst-case scenario.
The faint sound of dogs barking drew her to the window. She yanked back the curtain and watched as a set of headlights pulled up to the house.
John slammed the door of Thomas’s ’57 Chevy and lumbered toward the house.
Britney plopped back on the couch, e-reader in hand, focusing on the book she hadn’t read in a week.
“Hey.” John rubbed his brow as he came inside. “You didn’t have to wait up.”
Her eyes drifted to the clock. “Wow. Is it that late already? I didn’t even notice the time.”
“Really?” John picked up his phone from the table. “I have a missed call from you.”
“Butt dial.” She batted her eyelashes.
“You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re trying to pretend like you’re not mad.” He slung off his jacket and hung it on the rustic coatrack.
Britney swung her feet off the couch and rushed over to John. “What the hell happened to your arm?”
“Oh, this.” He pointed to the bloodied bandage around his left forearm. “Hildebrand said it’s nothing to worry about.”
Dr. James Hildebrand was Patty and Thomas’s son-in-law.
“You went to see him at this time of night?” Britney followed him into the kitchen.
John poured himself a whiskey and Coke. “Patty ended up having to call him to check on Thomas. He was out of control.”
“What do you mean, out of control?” She had watched John help the elderly man into his car. He couldn’t even stand without support.
“I don’t know what happened.” John drained the glass and mixed another. “Never seen anything like it. Got him in the house and into bed. Patty went to the kitchen to make him some hot lemon water, and then out of nowhere, he jumped on top of me, snapping his jaw like a damn alligator or something.”
Her mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”
“He was so strong, like….” John drained his second drink. If she hadn’t seen the sweat beading on his forehead, she would have thought he was joking. “Thomas is sixty-five years old, and I could barely overpower him. Bastard bit me. I had to kick him to get him off.”
Britney snatched a wineglass from behind John’s head and poured herself a glass of red. “Holy shit. Did he finally just settle down or somethin’?”
John skipped the Coke and just poured himself a shot. “Patty heard the struggle and called Hildebrand. He rushed over. By that point, I had Thomas pinned to the bed. Hildebrand shot him with a sedative and called an ambulance. He cleaned my bite before heading to the hospital, and then I came home.”
“What does he think it is?” She went to take another drink, but the glass was empty. When had that happened?
“Have you heard about this new virus going around? Apparently it’s been all over the news.”
“News?” Britney snorted. “I can’t remember the last time the news was on TV for more than a couple of minutes. And that was because the kids couldn’t find the remote.”
“Sounds like it's bad. Flu-like symptoms along with hallucinations and aggression.”
“God. How do they think he got it?” Her gaze fell to John’s blood-soaked bandage. “Did he say if it was contagious? Or how it’s spread?”
“He didn’t say much of anything.” John twisted his arm around. “But I’m fine, though a little sore and in need of a new bandage.”
“Come on.” She led him up the stairs. “I’ll get the first aid kit and get you cleaned up.”
John didn’t make it to the bathroom. She found him stretched out on the bed stripped down to his underwear, flipping through his phone.
“I really don’t want blood on the bed.”
“Sorry.” He yawned. “I’m tired. It’s been a long-ass day.”
“You’re tired?” Britney sat beside him and unwrapped the soiled bandage. “I’ve been at the church since eight this mornin’ settin’ up. Didn’t get home until after dark last night after a full day.”
“And I picked up your slack around here while you were flirting with that beefy biker.” He grinned, knowing exactly how to get a rise out of her.
“Beefy?” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Who says ‘beefy’ anymore?”
“Hey, it’s not like I have experience in describing men. But you have to admit”—he rubbed her leg with his free hand—“he’s a good-looking guy.”
“Aww,” Britney cooed, “are you jealous?”
“Nah.” He lay back as she finished unwrapping the wound. “More like flattered. I know my wife is hot, but when a guy like that hits on her, and I’m the one who gets to take her home… makes a country boy like me feel pretty damn good.”
“What the hell is this?” Britney stared down at John’s arm. “I thought you said it was a bad bite?”
“It is.”
She shoved his arm away. “Is this some kind of joke? Did any of what you told me even happen?”
“You think I’m lying?” He lifted his arm and paled. “What the fuck?”
“That barely counts as a scratch, John.” She shoved the first aid supplies back into the kit. “Did Hildebrand put you up to this? Tryin’ to get me back for last year’s April Fools prank? Because I didn’t even come up with the stunt. Makayla is the one—”
“Brit.” He hurried to a sitting position and ran a finger over his skin. “This isn’t a joke. There was a bite on my arm. A nasty bite deep enough that James thought I should get stitches. You saw the blood.”
The panic in his voice caught her off guard. “That doesn’t make any sense. These are barely even puncture wounds. Are you sure you heard him right? Maybe he was talking about Thomas.”
“I washed the bite myself.”
Britney examined his arm. “What are those black lines? Bruises?”
“What black lines?”
“Right here.” She followed the line with her fingertip. “They kind of look like veins. Do veins bruise?”
John shrugged. “Not that I know of. But I’m not the expert.”
“I’ll call Sloan.”
As she reached for her phone, John grabbed hold of her arm. “It’s almost 2:00 a.m. Call her in the morning. Let’s go to bed. I don’t even want to think about how many hours we have left before the kids wake up.”
“You’re right. She’s at a conference or somethin’ this weekend anyway.” Britney headed for the bathroom to change into her pajamas.
“You talk to her lately?”
Britney threw on an old nightgown before turning off the light and getting into bed. “She left me a couple of messages on Thursday sayin’ she’d be unreachable until Sunday.”
“There you go.” John draped his arm over her body and pulled her close. “Call her tomorrow.”
Britney wiggled, trying to get comfortable with his heavy arm pinning her down. “You know I can’t sleep like this.”
He removed his arm and rolled over. “Good night.”
“Are you feeling okay? You didn’t even grab my ass.”
“Yeah,” he mumbled, “just tired.”
Britney buried herself under the covers and closed her eyes, hoping tomorrow would be a little less eventful than today.
CHAPTER FOUR
Axel took one last look at the sleepy town before mounting his motorcycle. The sun had barely peeked over the horizon, and as far as he could tell, not a single store had opened. Must have been that old-
school Sunday mentality.
Maybe he’d come back one day, check out the scenery. In the week they’d been stuck here, the town had grown on him. Not in a ‘pack up all his belongings and move’ kind of way, more like ‘it was a nice place to visit but wouldn’t take long to get bored’ kind of way.
Twenty motorcycle engines roared to life, and the group headed west out of town.
He hadn’t mapped out their route, didn’t even know how many miles they had left. Shutting out the world was one of the many reasons he had agreed to come along, to get lost in the drive and forget everything that happened this past year. All the pain and sorrow. The pity.
He shook off the memories and focused on the road. The rush of extreme acceleration. The bite of the drop in temperature. The outdoorsy smell only found this far removed from the city.
They took the scenic route through the mountains. He’d seen some stunning sights on the trip, and this was no exception. The snow-tipped peaks and blue lakes brought about a sense of serenity he hadn’t felt in a while.
The group slowed, pulled onto the shoulder and parked, everyone dismounting to stretch their legs.
“I didn’t see any signs for a rest stop. Guess I’ll just have to make my own ladies' room behind a tree.” Queenie headed off into the forest.
“Shouldn’t someone go with her?” Axel watched her disappear. “Bears are common in these parts and she doesn’t have a weapon”
Gunner waved. “Nah, she can handle herself. Though someone might want to protect the bears.”
Everyone laughed except Axel. He kept his eyes on the tree line. Granted, he didn’t know much about the mountains, but he’d spent a year in the Boy Scouts as a kid. He didn’t remember much except to always stay with your buddy. Now, that could have been because they were eight years old, but in the middle of nowhere, that might not be a bad idea since she was unarmed.
A few minutes passed, and the biker grew restless.
“What the hell is taking her so long?” Mac growled. “The way we're going, we won’t make the next stop until well after dark. We’re already a week behind.”
A shadow caught Axel’s eye, and he took a few steps closer. “Did anyone else see that?”
No one responded. Hell, none of them were even looking at the trees.
As Axel moved closer to get a better look, an agonizing scream cut through the mindless chatter.
For a split second, no one moved, all eyes trained on the forest.
Axel darted back to his bike and retrieved the gun he kept in his side satchel.
“That wasn’t Queenie, right?” Rainey, a forty-year-old former schoolteacher, asked. “That scream. It didn’t even sound human.”
“I’ll go check it out.” As far as he knew, Axel was the only one who carried a sidearm, a habit he couldn’t bear to let go of after the war. With a gun in hand, he knew he could defend himself from whatever danger crossed his path.
“You want us to go with you?” Gunner asked.
Axel gave him a dismissive wave. “Unless you have a firearm, stay here.”
He didn’t wait for a response before disappearing into the woods. Queenie couldn’t have gone too far or they wouldn’t have heard her scream. If only he could figure out which way she went.
Soft gurgling from his left sent him running. He slid to a stop and fell to his knees beside Queenie. Blooded covered her from throat to chest, so much that he couldn’t find the worst of the wounds.
Axel tossed his leather jacket aside and removed his T-shirt. It was filthy but would have to do.
He wiped away the blood the best he could. On her neck, he found what appeared to be a bite or deep claw marks. Wrapping the shirt around the wound slowed the bleeding, but if she had any chance of making it, he needed to her get out of these woods and to a hospital.
“I found her!” he called out, not wanting to leave her alone but needing help to carry her. “Call for help!”
Leaves rustled and Axel whirled around, gun in hand. No way they could have gotten to him that fast.
Shadows danced in the distance, making it difficult to tell if there was something out there or if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Chances were good whatever attacked Queenie was still out there. A predator didn’t stray far from its downed prey.
A branch snapped, closer that time. Axel rose to his feet, hoping an increase in his size would scare the animal away.
“Get out of here!” he screamed, scanning the trees.
The creature answered with a low growl.
Goose bumps prickled his skin. He’d never heard anything quite like the menacing sound.
Bushes swished to his right. He readied his gun.
Hidden behind the trees, masked in the shadows, stood what looked to be a man.
Axel dropped his weapon. “It’s okay. You can come out.”
Footsteps crashed through the brush, and the man jerked his head.
“Those are my friends. Come with us and we can get you some help.” Axel moved closer, gun tucked in the back of his jeans to show the man he meant no harm. “Sir?”
The man crouched and growled. The same growl he had heard moments ago.
“Axel?” Gunner screamed. “Where are you?”
The man jumped back, startled by the new voice. A thin stream of sunlight hit his gray skin, and then he was gone, back into the shadows.
“What the fuck?” Axel rubbed his eyes.
“Jesus, Queenie!” Mac yelled. “What the hell happened to her?”
“Grab Queenie and get her back to the bikes,” Gunner ordered. “The park ranger said he could have a chopper here in a few minutes if need be.”
Axel heard them as they lifted Queenie from the ground but couldn’t take his eyes off the spot where the man had stood.
“Hey.” Gunner grabbed Axel’s arm. “Didn’t you hear me calling out for you?”
Axel tore his eyes from the trees. “Yes, sorry. There was something out there.”
“What was it?” Gunner inspected the area. “The animal that attacked her?”
“I’m not sure.” He ran a hand over his temple. “As crazy as it sounds, I think it was a man.”
“A man?” Gunner picked up Axel’s jacket from the ground and threw it at him.
“Thanks.” He slipped it on, thankful he had a clean T-shirt in his bag.
“Like a serial killer hiding out in the woods?”
“I don’t know.” Even now his mind was trying to rationalize what he had seen. “You said something about a park ranger?”
“Yeah. He drove by not ten minutes after you left. Told him we didn’t know what happened, but we heard a scream. He’s ready to call for a medevac, said there are lots of bears in these woods.”
“Good. She needs to get to a hospital. Her wounds are bad.”
As they headed out of the forest, a sudden chill ran up Axel’s spine. They were being watched. Or stalked. Either way, he picked up the pace, needing to get the hell out of there and away from whatever it was he saw.
***
“How is she?” Axel asked the trauma nurse as they wheeled Queenie away.
The slender woman with a messy ponytail flipped through the chart clutched in her hand. “And who might you be?”
“Her nephew,” Axel said without hesitation. He’d been around enough hospitals to know the staff could only give out information on a patient to family. “I came in with her on the chopper.”
She rubbed her neck. “I’m going on an eighteen-hour shift with no end in sight, so I’m going to take your word for it. Patient lost a lot of blood, but we were able to close the wounds. Multiple lacerations across the neck and arms. We had to give her a second dose of sedative. Do you know if she takes stimulants?”
“Drugs? No. And what do you mean, a second dose? She’s been unconscious since the attack in the woods.”
“Well, she wasn’t unconscious about twenty minutes ago. Started thrashing around, bit one of our interns.”
Axel na
rrowed his eyes. “She bit somebody? That’s crazy.”
“The crazy part is—” Her gaze flickered around the room before she leaned in closer. “—she’s not the only one. We’ve had five incidents in the past hour alone.”
“I’m going to go out on a ledge and say that isn’t normal.”
“No.” She checked her pager. “I’ve got to go. Another patient is being rerouted to us. Like we have space.”
She rushed off, leaving Axel standing in the middle of the emergency room, unsure what to do next. As far as he knew, Queenie had no relatives, and the rest of their group wouldn’t make it back here for a few more hours.
The park ranger had graciously offered to drop off his and Queenie’s motorcycles after his shift when he found out what hospital they’d taken her to. One less thing to worry about. If Queenie woke and he didn’t have an exact location of her bike, she’d probably have a heart attack. That ten-year-old Harley was her baby.
He took a seat in the packed waiting room and watched the news playing on the corner TV. The sound was off, but he could read the headlines that scrolled along the bottom.
The usual tiresome news passed: a B-list celebrity death, box office numbers, weather. He almost turned away until one headline caught his attention.
A new flu-like virus sweeping the nation. The infected’s erratic behavior baffle doctors around the world.
Axel rose from his chair and moved closer, hoping to turn up the volume as the headline became the top story. Behind the anchors, a video of a man on a stretcher biting at the EMTs trying to strap him down played on a constant loop.
“Family of Queenie St. James?”
Axel snapped his head in the door's direction, where a nurse impatiently tapped her foot. “Yes.”
“Come with me. I’ll show you to her room.” She didn’t wait for a response before walking away.
He took one last look at the news broadcast and threaded a hand through his hair. This whole day had him paranoid. For a second he almost considered the possibility that the whole flu story was a cover-up for something more sinister. Maybe I should get my head examined while I’m here.
