Awake
Page 23
Don stepped forward, grabbed Bubba by the neck, and twisted. Bubba fell to the ground and didn’t move. Tank released the dead man’s arm, and shuffled backward, dazed.
“Thanks, boy,” Don said. The hair around Tank’s mouth was drenched with blood, his eyes still glassy with adrenaline.
Bubba transformed as life left him; his face looked peaceful. Don rubbed his eyes. Another person who’d helped was dead. The body count was getting high, and Don wondered what the bigger picture looked like. They could be dealing with victims in the hundreds of thousands already. That comforted him, and reaffirmed that his decision had been right. What it meant long term scared him. If this pathogen spread worldwide, civilization as they knew it would be over, and the new world wouldn’t be pretty, and would eventually kill off most of mankind.
“Let’s get out of this place. I’ve had just about enough of the Glades already,” said Tony.
They hurried through the buttonwood trees and saw palmetto, and after a few minutes, they found Maureen and the rest waiting for them on the boat. Tank jumped aboard, and Jessie hopped from the boat to greet Tony and Don as they approached. There were smiles, greetings, and congratulatory hugs.
Jessie disappeared in a flash of splashing water, green scales, and white teeth. A gator had launched from the shallows, and snatched the dog. Jessie yelped and cried as the reptile thrashed its head about.
“No,” Saura yelled.
The jungle erupted as Saura pulled her knife and dove for the croc, but as fast as it appeared, the gator was gone, and Jessie squeaked and whimpered as she disappeared beneath the water. An awestruck horror fell over the Everglades, and astonishment and pain froze everyone.
Saura screamed, a blood-curdling wail that sent a shiver through Don. She knelt on the soft peat, clawing at the water where the gator had submerged. Maureen grabbed her arm.
“She’s gone. There’s nothing we can do,” Maureen said.
Saura pulled free, and collapsed at the water’s edge, staring at the bubbles popping on the service. She wailed, and shook badly. Maureen put her arm around the young woman.
“You’re too close to the water,” Don said. Maureen shot fire from her eyes, and Tank sat by them, his gray eyes focused on the water as if he expected Jessie to emerge.
There were sounds of pursuit on the path.
“We gotta go,” Lester said.
Don inched the boat into deeper water, and there was a brief debate about what to do with the kayaks. Less weight meant more speed, which was a major consideration. As was the fact that having kayaks tied to the side made the boat cumbersome and unbalanced.
As Tony cut loose the kayaks, Don said, “Good thing Tank’s an animal. That would’ve sucked if I had to leave him behind.”
“So if I get infected, you’ll leave me?” asked Tristin. Her hair was tangled, and her big brown eyes stared up at Don with all the innocence of the world.
Pain wrapped around him like a python, every muscle in his body pulling and tightening. “Yes,” he said. “And it would break my heart to do it, just like my heart has been broken many times before.”
Don piloted the boat out into the open water, and as he pulled away, sleepwalkers emerged from the foliage along the shore. They hooted and hollered, and a couple threw rocks that didn’t come near the boat. A limpkin wailed overhead, as if telling the outsiders to get the hell off his lawn. Insects hung in clouds around the walkers, whose bodies and clothes were covered in dried blood.
“Why? At this point, we’re almost out. Couldn’t they quarantine us like the victims they’re researching?” Tony asked.
“If it were necessary. And there was a very good reason to defy protocol. Neither would apply to any of us, I’m afraid,” Don said.
“That’s just cold,” Maureen said.
“But necessary. If you make exceptions, the intricate weave of military efficiency breaks down,” Don said. “Plus, we’re one of many rough situations at the moment, I’m sure. That’s another reason they wanted us clear. A copter and three soldiers can extract us. In the city or suburbs, it would take a large commitment of resources.”
The walkers on the shore were yelling and grunting at them, but they didn’t appear to have any guns.
“How would they know for sure if I had the disease, anyway?” asked Tristin.
“Yeah. The symptoms don’t appear until the victim falls asleep,” added Maureen.
“By now, my people can probably detect the disease via a simple test. I’d expect to get pricked before you’re allowed to get on the copter,” Don said.
The airboat moved into deeper water and Don revved the engine. The giant propeller screamed, and the boat glided forward. They cruised down a narrow stream that led to a huge sawgrass field. Don remembered the area well, and he continued across it without hesitation. Conversation ceased, as it was difficult to be heard over the roar of the engine.
“Maureen, what time we got,” Don yelled over the rumble of the motor.
“7:19PM,” Maureen said.
“Not much daylight left,” he said to no one in particular. The stream that headed back toward where they’d left Drago was approaching fast, and Don leaned over to Lester. “Where to?”
“Keep going straight, we have to go much further south than before. There’s a nice channel through those mangroves there.”
South of their current position, the grass gave way to mangrove trees, and an opening could be seen like a tunnel entrance, its maw dark and shadowy. “Looks narrow,” Don said.
“It is, and there are many offshoots and byways that can get us lost for days,” Lester yelled.
Don inched the airboat’s yoke to the right, and the boat listed and turned. Saura still sobbed as she sat on the deck, her eyes puffy and red. Tony was next to her, his eyes half-closed with sleep. Maureen hugged Tank, and they both looked like they were asleep. Don chuckled. The airboat was so loud it could probably be heard in the stillness five miles away, but exhaustion had overtaken them. Eventually, even caffeine stopped working.
Muscles cramped, old injuries nagged, and it became harder to stay awake with each passing second. Don’s leg wound ached, his back hurt, and his feet were so sore from the incorrect size boots he wore that each step was an effort.
The skiff came from an offshoot of the main passage. They were speeding through the mangrove trees when the small boat crashed into the airboat, and knocked it into the mangroves. The great air propeller kept spinning, slicing tree branches as the boat spun around, and came to a stop.
Don backed down the throttle as two men he didn’t recognize jumped from their skiff onto the airboat. A melee ensued as the walkers attacked. Tony ended up in the water as he reached for the shotgun. The gun went with him, and they both disappeared under the boat. Tank barked, and went after one of the men, and Don went for the other.
“It’s Tim,” Maureen shouted. “And one of Drago’s men, Jeb.”
Maureen lifted the M16, which rested on the floor in front of the pilot’s seat, but there were so many people jostling for position on the boat it appeared to Don that she was afraid to fire it for fear of hitting someone she didn’t want to. Water surged onto the deck of the boat, and it listed from the shifting chaos. Don slipped, and Jeb was on him, and the two men slide down the deck into the water.
Saura screamed, and joined the fray, pounding on Tim’s back as he went for Maureen, who struggled to bring the M16 to bear on her husband.
Don hit the water hard, and bolts of pain ran through his body as his leg hit a tree. Jeb was on top, driving him into the shallow water. Fear gripped him as water filled his mouth and old terrors took hold. They thrashed like two fish having sex, the walker fighting with a reckless abandon that put Don on the defense. Jeb had Don by the neck, and he desperately clawed to free himself. The last rays of the setting sun lit the dark water, and the walker’s row of teeth came at him like a baby shark.
Chapter Thirty
Maureen’s heart sank wh
en Don disappeared under water. Her protector, the man who had saved them all, was gone again. Her movements became slow and erratic, like her limbs were filled with concrete. She tried to steady herself as vertigo filled her, and she almost collapsed.
Tank had Tim’s leg and Saura beat on his back, but still her husband came for her, his eyes blood red with a single-minded purpose as he lumbered across the airboat’s deck. Maureen struggled with the M16 as she tried to keep her balance. The airboat’s motor sputtered, and stalled, while the skiff’s small outboard screamed and continued to drive the airboat into the mangroves.
The collision had tossed Lester from the passenger seat, and his head smacked the support structure for the airboat’s massive propeller. He fell with a thud, unconscious, and useless. He lay on the deck, a thin stream of blood flowing from a cut on his head. Tristin sat frozen before the pilot seat, fear paralyzing her.
Tony emerged from beneath the boat, coughing up water. He clung to the airboat like a life raft, his eyes frantic and afraid. Tim was inching forward as he fought off Tank and Saura, and Tony reached up and clamped his hand around the walker’s ankle. Using Tim’s weight as support, he lifted himself partly out of the water onto the deck. He lay prone on his belly, his lower body still dragging in the water.
Maureen got the rifle sighted, and when Tim saw the barrel pointed at his head, he stopped, and shook off Saura and Tony. Tank wasn’t so easy. The dog crushed Tim’s leg between his jaws.
Tim punched the animal in the head; swift rabbit punches that knocked Tank’s head back and forth as he held tight.
With a crack that sounded as if something had broken, Tank yelped and released Tim, who came at Maureen again. Six feet separated them when Tim pulled up and stared at his wife with a fever that reinforced her resolve. He cracked his knuckles, and she gasped. This wasn’t the man she’d known, but there was some of Tim still in there. He was covered in blood, his clothes were tattered, and his skin purple. Dark lines crisscrossed his face, as blood vessels expanded and pressed against swollen muscle and skin. She no longer even recognized him, and if it weren’t for his hair color, and his wedding ring, she would have questioned if he was her husband, yet it was still Tim. Not that it mattered anymore.
“I’ll shoot you. I swear,” she said, the rifle shaking in her hands. Could she kill him? When it came time to pull the trigger, would she be able to? She hadn’t been able to prior, and doubt seeped through her, and her finger tightened around the trigger.
Tim put up his hands, but his wide smile made Maureen take a step backward. She was up against the stalled propeller and there was nowhere to go. She had to either jump into the water and hope for the best, or she needed to shoot him, but even that option had problems. If she woke him—which by all accounts thus far would require a near death shot because he’d already been woken once—what would they do then? He was infected, and then he’d be severely wounded. They only had four and a half hours to get to the extraction point, and he wouldn’t be able to come with them.
Doing nothing wasn’t an option. Tim stood frozen before Maureen, breathing heavily. Saura sat on the deck, crying, and Tank growled and circled behind Tim. The dog appeared to be all right. Tony climbed onto the airboat’s deck, and rolled on his back.
Don and Jeb emerged from beneath the water, and Tim turned to see what was happening.
Maureen rushed him, knocking Tim backward into the pilot’s seat.
Tony clamped his arm around Tim’s neck, choking him. Snarls, grunts, and the sound of splashing water came from the front of the boat where Don struggled with Jeb.
Maureen punched Tim in the stomach, over and over, pounding the man with all the anger and frustration of their lives together. She stopped hitting him and wiped her hand on her shirt. She brought up the rifle and smashed its butt into his face. Once. Twice. Three times.
Still, he didn’t wake. Blood leaked from the wounds on his cheek, his jawbone exposed. Terror filled his eyes as something within told him his time was short. He thrust his elbow backward, and it connected with Tony’s face, and he fell away like a leaf. At this, Tank lunged in an attempt to clamp down on the Tim’s leg again, but Tim kicked the animal and Tank went sliding into the water.
Tristin ran to Saura, and they moved to the end of the boat, away from the melee. Saura looked lost, and blood dripped from a cut on her head where she’d slammed it on the deck. It was comforting to see her take control of Tristin. Don rolled and struggled with Jeb, who threw wild punches, his jaws snapping.
Maureen raised the rifle, and Tim went for her.
The shot caught him in the chest, a neat red hole that expanded as she watched. His snarl disappeared, and he fell to his knees, his face mutating back to the man she’d once loved as his life slipped away.
Maureen dropped the M16 and wretched, the candy and soda she’d eaten spraying across the deck, leaving a green-brown sludge. Guilt and heartache gripped her. She was many things, but she wasn’t a killer. She told herself she had to do it. He would have killed her. To that, she asked herself why she hadn’t aimed for his leg.
Tim fell forward and hit the deck with a thud. Maureen pushed his body into the water as she wept, and it floated away beneath the surface. Puke leaked from her mouth as she tried to catch her breath. Tiny pinpricks of light danced in the air.
Don screamed.
Maureen surfaced from her grief-stricken haze. She picked up the rifle, and joined Tank and Tony where they stood at the bow of the airboat, watching Don wrestle with Jeb in the brackish water.
“Here, give me that,” said Tony, and Maureen handed him the M16.
Tony put the weapon to his shoulder and tried to get Jeb within its sights, but they were still trashing and pulling at each other, making a solid mass of flesh and bone. Don screamed again, and that was too much for Tank who floated in the water nearby. He growled, and speared through the water like a torpedo, jaws open.
“Shoot him!” Maureen yelled.
“I can’t get a clean shot,” Tony said. “They’re too close.”
Jeb screamed and then fell silent. Tank had the walker by the neck, and as he jerked his head back and forth, he tore open his throat, and the walker went still.
Everything stopped for a heartbeat. Jeb’s body floated listlessly in the water, and as he transformed back to himself,, Maureen saw the face of the man who had given her over to Drago as though she were meat, and they were having a barbeque. The body drifted away and sank beneath the water and was lost from view.
Tank treaded water, and blood leeched into the stream around him. The dog’s eyes were wide, and he still bared his teeth, looking around as if he didn’t understand the fight was over.
“Easy, boy,” Don said, and moved toward the animal. Tank barked at him, and bared his teeth, but when Don extended his hand, Tank whimpered, sniffed it, and went to him.
Don helped Tank onto the airboat’s deck, and Maureen ran to him and threw her arms around the dog. He was dazed, dripping wet, and bloody, but the animal’s tongue lashed out, and he gave Maureen a long lick across her face, and nuzzled his head into her chest.
“Little help,” Don said, who was struggling to pull himself onto the boat. Tony and Maureen each grabbed an arm, and together, they pulled the agent onto the boat, where he lay panting and choking.
There was blood all over Don, and his shirt was ripped up. He had deep scratches on his face and arms, and he looked so pale Maureen worried for her friend. “You okay?”
Don sat in the pilot’s seat, and put his head back, breathing hard. “I’ll be fine.”
Maureen roused Lester, who had a nice knot on his head, but was otherwise okay.
“Way to go, Bilbo Baggins,” Don said, referring to how the unconscious hobbit had sat out most of the battle of five armies. Lester forced out a laugh and sat up. Maureen gave him water, and he drank deeply.
Saura worked her way forward with Tristin, and they knelt and stroked Tank. No one spoke. The skiff’s outb
oard still screamed, sending water shooting into the mangroves. Tony jumped onto the skiff, and pulled the kill switch lanyard, and the motor sputtered out. Singing birds, insects, and frogs filled in the brief stillness.
The Glades abide.
“I wonder what happened to Kenny and Stilts?” Saura asked.
“Who?” Tony said.
“Jeb’s partners,” Maureen said. “They’re the ones who caught us and brought us to Drago.”
“Judging by what we’ve seen, it’s easy enough to guess what happened to them,” Don said.
While they fought for survival, the sun completed its descent to the horizon and the Everglades were filled with the grayness of dusk. It was then they realized they only had one flashlight, and the light on the front of the airboat to light their way.
Pig frogs croaked, the guttural sound of their call explaining their name. Crickets, birds, mosquitoes, and gator calls made the night symphony a loud and distracting force, which made things even more difficult. They all sat in the front of the boat as Tony and Lester examined the propeller and engine. The flashlight beam danced around, and when a few minutes had passed, Lester and Tony had diagnosed the situation.
“The airboat is inoperable,” Tony said. “The protective cage around the propeller is bent, and without tools and time, we can’t get it going.”
“We’ll take the skiff,” Lester said.
“That’ll be slow going,” Don said. “Time?”
“8:06PM,” Maureen said.
Don looked to Lester, who said, “If we work fast here, and hustle, we can make it.”
“Strip the battery and light rig off the front of the airboat,” Don said.
Maureen looked around the dark water, and in her mind, she said goodbye to her husband. Now that he was gone, she felt lost, her guilt eating away any attempt to stay calm. The night sounds soothed her, and she closed her eyes. They were almost out, and soon the nightmare would be over.
Chapter Thirty-One
The skiff trolled through the dark water, the 9.9hp outboard motor gurgling in the night. They were moving slow as visibility was bad, the channel narrow, and the boat was severely overloaded. Saura, Tristin, Maureen, Tony, and Lester sat before Don, packed-in like sardines. Tank lay at Don’s feet as he held the motor’s control arm and piloted the boat. Mangrove trees fleeted by on both sides, and occasionally, a branch would scratch the side of the boat. The light they’d rigged to the front of the skiff cut through the blackness, silencing part of the night symphony, and creating spider-like dancing shadows beneath the tree canopy.