“I don’t know,” she said. “Probably in there.”
“I don’t think we should—” Cody began.
“What choice do we have?” Sidney cut him off, knowing that he was probably right, but the alternative left them standing around with their thumbs up their butts waiting for something to happen.
“We go in, check it, and . . .” She stopped, starting to head down the hall.
“And what?” Cody asked.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “But I can’t just stand here.”
“I have no problem standing here,” Rich said. “But if it means I’ll be here by myself, then I guess I’m going with you.” He looked at Cody. “What about you?”
Without a word, Cody began walking toward the office.
Sidney was first through the doorway. There was a large desk in front of her, its chair empty but stained with something dark. She held back a gasp as she slowly approached the desk and peered around it.
The police officer lying on the floor was very dead, his eyes wide open, mouth twisted in a grotesque grimace. His throat looked as though it had been torn out.
“What is it?” Cody asked.
She turned to meet his gaze, and something in her face must have registered her shock. He rushed to her side and peered around the desk himself.
“Oh my God,” he said. “We have to do something.”
She agreed but had no idea what. They could run from the building, but they certainly wouldn’t be any safer out there in that storm. Instead, she moved past the desk. Snowy started to go ahead of her, and she reached down, placing the tips of her fingers on the dog’s back, stopping her instantly.
“Good girl,” Sidney whispered, eyes scanning the spaces before them. Papers had been knocked from desks, chairs and trash cans tipped over, but she didn’t see any other signs of death.
No other bodies . . . yet.
She moved farther in, but a rustle made her freeze. Snowy stopped as well, taking cues from her master, who now raised a hand, signaling Cody and Rich to stop. Sidney listened for the sound again, eyes scanning the darkened room, trying to discern any new sounds from the sounds of the raging storm outside the building.
There it was again.
She cautiously moved toward it, weaving among the desks, trying not to step on any of the objects that littered the floor. She stopped again and heard the sound. A soft, yet very brief hissing—no, it was something rubbing against metal. Sidney moved a little bit farther into the office, standing in a short aisle between four metal desks.
The sound was close now.
She tilted to the left and looked down into the wide, terror-filled eyes of Mrs. Levesque and Amy, who were crammed beneath a desk. The mother’s ragged and bloody hand was clamped over her daughter’s mouth.
Sidney squatted down and was about to offer them her hand when the attack came.
The animal sprang from the shadows, clipping her and knocking her backward as it disappeared back into the gloom.
“There’s something in here!” Sidney screamed, scrambling to her feet. Her gaze found Mrs. Levesque, who was crying harder now and was mouthing something that could have been Help us.
The animal leaped up on top of a desk in the far corner of the room. In any other situation, Sidney would have thought the German shepherd was beautiful, its golden brown-and-black fur almost shiny in the emergency lighting.
But now it was simply terrifying.
It flew from the desk, silently charging toward her, hurdling over obstacles in its path. She knew it would be on her in an instant and instinctively raised her arm to protect herself from its snapping jaws.
Snowy got there first, intercepting the dog, using her own force to crash into its side and send it sliding across a desk onto the floor behind it. Sidney heard the sounds of snapping jaws, snarls, and scrabbling claws, and instincts at once kicked in—something akin to a mother protecting her child.
Against the wall across from her she saw a coatrack—a metal pole with caps, some coats, and a sweater hanging from it. Sidney practically flew to it, grabbing the cold metal and shaking off the clothes that hung there.
She had her weapon.
* * *
Cody watched in horror as the shepherd charged his girlfriend, his ex-girlfriend.
Images of his father exploded in his brain. Terrifying, bloody images reminding him of what kind of night the day had become.
The memories froze him in place. Froze him with absolute fear.
Then Cody caught sight of Rich racing toward Sidney. He was willing himself to run, to rise above his terror, and was actually beginning to move, when Snowy came to the rescue. Good ol’ Snowy.
He’d never seen the white German shepherd look so ferocious. She was like some sort of missile, flying through the air to intercept enemy fire. She slammed into the attacking dog, knocking it away from her master. If things weren’t so freakin’ terrifying, it would have been spectacular.
He saw that Rich had stopped to help Mrs. Levesque and her daughter climb out from under the desk. Sidney had grabbed an old coatrack and was heading toward the fighting dogs. Cody was about to help her separate the dogs when he sensed it. Like a cold breeze down the back of his neck.
He spun around to see another dog in mid-leap, silently bearing down on him, white teeth glistening in the faint glow of the emergency lights.
* * *
There was a part of Sidney deep inside—the civilized part, she guessed—that screamed for her to stop as she smashed the coatrack down upon the attacking dog’s head. The animal didn’t make a sound as the metal connected, opening up a bloody gash just above its right eye.
Its right eye.
The dog stopped fighting for a brief instant, and as it turned its gaze on her, she saw what she had seen in the other affected animals.
Or was it infected animals?
A silvery covering over the right eye.
Snowy took full advantage of the other dog’s pause, snapping her powerful jaws around the animal’s throat and thrashing savagely as she growled.
Sidney continued to bash the dog—probably one of the drug-sniffing dogs that loyally worked with the island’s police force. But she couldn’t consider that now. Instead, she forced herself to tap into the rage and fury caused by the horrors of the past several hours and beat the dog that was attempting to harm her friend—her Snowy.
The police dog didn’t make a sound as Sidney and Snowy savagely turned the tables on the attacking animal. Its jaw was broken and askew, its eyes—especially the right one—damaged and swollen, and finally the police dog appeared unable to continue its fight.
Sidney grabbed for Snowy, pulling her back and away from the injured police dog, watching as it swayed from side to side, moving its head as if attempting to see with its damaged right eye. She couldn’t stand the sight of its struggle. It was time to be human again, she decided, taking the pointed end of the metal shaft and driving it down into the pathetic creature’s neck.
The dog attempted to surge forward, its legs scrabbling against the hardwood floor, but its movements soon grew slower, more feeble, until finally it went still.
Sidney actually screamed as the sound of gunfire boomed through the office space. She spun around, heart pounding in her chest, adrenaline surging through her veins, and she wondered what more horrible things she would be forced to do tonight.
Across the office she saw Cody thrashing on the floor, the large body of another German shepherd sprawled atop him. She was just about ready to retrieve her makeshift spear and go to his aid when he pushed the limp body of the dog off of himself. Movement from the corridor at the far end of the office caught her attention next, and she realized it was Officer Isabel slowly lowering her weapon. Officer Kole, who looked as though he might have been injured, and some other very scared-looking people were crowding up behind her.
“You guys all right?” Isabel asked.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re good,” Rich sa
id. He was by the entrance to the office with Mrs. Levesque and her daughter.
Sidney and Snowy walked over to Cody. Her ex looked a little shaken as she offered him a hand up. He hesitated for just a moment but took it, allowing her to help him. Snowy was sniffing the bleeding corpse of the other dog.
“Get away from that, girl,” Sidney said, reaching to pull the dog away. She still didn’t know the reason for the strange animal behavior and didn’t want to take any chances.
Another police officer, an older, bald-headed man, left the group to approach them. Sidney had no idea who he was but noticed a K-9 patch on the sleeve of his uniform. He passed them to stand above the dead shepherd. Slowly he dropped to his knees and pulled the animal up into his arms.
“They were fine all day,” the officer said, just as much to convince himself as anybody. “And even when things started to . . . to go crazy, they seemed all right so I brought them back here.”
He stroked the dog’s blood-speckled fur lovingly, and Sidney could not help but feel her heart break for his loss.
“I was going to put them in their kennels. They liked their kennels, they felt safe there, but then . . .” He paused, and then slowly turned tear-filled eyes toward Sidney. “They weren’t themselves,” the policeman said. “They were something else entirely.”
It seemed as though he was looking for some kind of answer, something that would make sense out of the insanity he was—they all were—experiencing.
“I’ve seen it with other animals today,” Sidney said. “Cats, dogs, raccoons . . . even insects.”
She could see that he was now looking at Snowy.
“Why isn’t she . . . ?” he started to ask.
“We don’t know,” Sidney said, her protectiveness coming through again. She reached down to pull the dog closer to her. “There has to be a reason, but we just haven’t thought of it yet.”
She could sense that the others had joined them, milling about the dead animals, muttering among themselves.
“We thought we’d lost you guys,” Officer Isabel said. “When we came into the office, we found Kennedy dead.” She briefly looked over to the front desk. “And then the dogs attacked. If it wasn’t for Donovan here getting us all down to the holding cells, it would have been a massacre.”
“Sidney?” a voice called out, and Sidney turned to see a pajama-clad Pam stagger over.
“Oh my God, Pam . . . are you all right?”
Her coworker seemed to consider the question for a moment, then rushed to Sidney, throwing her arms around the girl. “No, no, I’m not all right at all . . . nothing is all right.” She sobbed into Sidney’s shoulder, then sniffled loudly and pulled away.
“Sorry,” she said, wiping a hand over her face. “Been holding it together most of the night, and just couldn’t do it anymore.”
“It’s okay,” Sidney said, rubbing her arm.
“No, it’s not, Sid,” Pam said, shaking her head. “It’s horrible . . . from what I’ve seen, all the animals have lost their shit. I barely got out of my house alive. Fribble . . .” She stopped, and her eyes began to fill with tears again.
“I know,” Sidney said. “It’s bad . . . I know.”
“He attacked me,” Pam continued in a trembling voice. “I think . . . I think that he . . .” She fell silent, obviously remembering the horror that she’d experienced. “I think he was actually trying to kill me.”
She pulled the collar of her pajama top down to reveal the deep scratches and bite marks in her neck and shoulder.
“We should clean those before they get infected,” Sidney said, stepping closer for a look.
“Yeah.” Pam shrugged, pulling the collar of her pajamas back over the wounds. “What’s going on out there, Sid?” she asked. “What could possibly be doing this?”
Sidney looked around to where she’d dropped the trash bag with the raccoon inside. It was over by the wall, just inside the office space.
“I don’t know,” she answered her friend. “But if anybody can figure it out—”
“Listen up, people,” Officer Kole suddenly spoke up. The man was favoring his arm, and Sidney could see where blood had dripped down beneath his shirt to the back of his hand. “I think the situation here is pretty much safe,” he said with authority. “We’ll hole up here until we can find out what the hell is going on, and what to do about it.”
“Officer,” Sidney said. “I need to get to Doc Martin.”
“I don’t think it’s wise for anybody to be out there and to—”
“No,” she interrupted as she strode across the room and picked up the green trash bag, holding it up. “I need to get this specimen to Doc Martin. If there’s anyone on this island who can figure out what’s happening, it’s her.”
The room was silent, and Sidney could feel everyone’s eyes on her, waiting to see how this would play out.
“I understand where you’re coming from with this,” Officer Kole said, walking slowly toward her. “But I can’t allow any of my officers—”
“I don’t need any of your officers,” she blurted out, not really thinking through her answer, but now that it had left her mouth she was fine with it—a little scared, but fine with it.
The man made a face that said he was either in pain or very, very annoyed with her.
“I can’t in all good conscience allow you to go out in . . . that alone.” He pointed to the window, where rain spattered the glass as if someone was holding a hose on the panes.
“She wouldn’t be going alone,” Cody said, moving closer to her.
Rich cleared his voice nervously and stepped forward as well. “Yeah, she wouldn’t be alone,” he agreed.
Officer Kole studied them intently. “You’ve seen what it’s like out there,” he said. “You three will be risking your lives.”
“Four,” Officer Isabel corrected.
“Excuse me?” Kole said, gazing at her incredulously.
“Four of us will be going,” she said firmly.
“I need you here.”
“And I understand where you’re coming from, but if Doc Martin can help figure this out, someone has to get to her.”
Kole continued to stare at his partner as if searching for some crack in her logic. “I trust your judgment,” he finally said. “Don’t necessarily agree with it, but I trust it.” Kole turned his eyes toward Sidney and her friends. “Let’s just hope Doc Martin is worth the effort.
The silence that followed was broken by the noise from Sidney’s stomach. She placed a hand upon her empty belly and tried to ignore it.
“Maybe you should all have something to eat before you head out,” Kole said. “I’ve got the keys to the vending machines. Won’t be all that nutritious, but at least it’ll take the edge off.”
“Thanks,” Sidney said, still feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Can’t go out into the end of the world on an empty stomach,” Rich said, and all eyes turned to him.
“Oh, did I say that out loud?”
Sidney smiled weakly at that, as did Cody, a scared part of her now wondering if he just might be right.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
The vessel that had once been Ronald Berthold—man, husband, certified public accountant—stumbled down the rain-swept streets of Benediction as more vessels of varying sizes and shapes swarmed around him.
Searching.
He—they—had a purpose, and they would carry out that purpose no matter the cost.
The former Ronald Berthold paused in the center of the street, craning his neck, seeking out the sound that had drawn it and the others in this direction.
There, above the noise of the storm—the hum of a machine.
Focusing its senses upon the sound, the human vessel began to walk again. The other multitude of vessels, hearing it now as well, followed.
Drawn toward the sound.
Where there was sound, there would be life.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
After cleaning up
a bit in the restroom, Cody sat as far away from the others as he could, gnawing on a stale granola bar.
Have to keep the strength up, he thought with sarcasm as he washed the dry snack down with a gulp of bottled water.
He couldn’t get his father out of his head.
Over and over the scene in the marina parking lot played out in his head, his dad sacrificing himself to make sure that everyone else lived.
The image of his father’s face, blood from the deep wounds in his scalp cascading over his shocked features, had burned itself onto Cody’s brain, and no matter how hard he tried to forget, it always was there.
With the sickening vision came the guilt. His father had died before his eyes, and he hadn’t done anything to stop it.
“Hey,” said a voice softly. He knew who it was and didn’t want to look.
“Hey,” he answered.
“You okay?” Sidney asked.
He wanted to tell her to leave him alone, to go away, remembering that she was the one who had held him back. If it wasn’t for her . . .
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just really tired. Trying to get some rest before . . .”
She took a seat on the floor beside him, and he heard the rustling of a wrapper as she prepared to eat something. He ignored her, taking another bite of his granola bar.
“Granola,” she said. “Probably a better idea than chocolate, but I’ve always been weak.”
He didn’t respond, just chewed slowly, like a cow chewing its cud. He wanted to be mad at her. Not only had she broken his heart, she’d kept him from saving his father’s life. He wanted to bundle it all together into one great big seething ball of hurt and rage, but . . .
He couldn’t do it.
Deep down, he knew that Sidney had saved his life. If he’d gone out there to help his father, he would have died as well.
Cody took a long swig of water and looked at her. She had cleaned the dried blood from her face too.
“What?” she asked, a piece of chocolate in her mouth. “I’ve already told you I’m weak.”
“You’re not weak,” he said, shaking his head. “Well, maybe a little.”
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