Abduction
Page 18
He came to the big examining room. The one where they had operated on the skinhead girl. Empty.
Where had the human subjects gone?
Luke put it out of his mind. He reached the capsule room, which he thought of as the barracks.
It was crawling with dyzychs. Obviously, they had tried to reach their capsules. Most had failed and lay limp on the floor, barely moving.
But a few were inside the capsules. Luke paused, looking in.
The need to keep moving tugged at him. But he feared the aliens in the capsules. He knew they would be cleansing their bodies, recovering.
Forcing down his distaste and fear, he entered. An arm snaked toward his foot. But Luke easily saw it coming. He kicked the feeble limb away and stepped over the alien.
He drew out his knife and brandished it threateningly. Small as the blade was, none of the aliens seemed in the mood to argue with it. They let him pass.
But their eyes followed him. A breathy, hissing sound erupted from them when Luke cut the first hose.
He whirled, flicking his eyes, his knife ready. But no attack came.
Luke moved among the capsules, cutting the hose every time he found a dyzych occupant. It didn’t take long. Most of them had collapsed right on the floor.
The hissing sound died as Luke picked his way back toward the entrance.
Going out, he shut the door behind him. He felt powerful.
“Take that, you loathsome aliens!” he yelled.
He passed the cafeteria. Dead rats lay on the floor and in the glass cages. Dead roaches littered every surface. Groaning dyzychs hardly noticed Luke go by.
It worried him a little that he wasn’t finding any humans. No skinheads. No Quentin.
But the thrumming noise now filled his head. The floor under his feet vibrated, sending the unsettling sound up through his bones. It made his heart beat irregularly.
He had to make it stop.
Luke moved more quickly, almost jogging through the ship.
He knew now that the noise was coming from the command module.
And his luck was holding. The door was open.
Luke sidled along the wall. Peered inside. Two skinheads were pressing controls busily. One of them was the big mutant with the HATE tattoo.
The deep throbbing noise came from the big machine in the corner. It was a pump of some sort.
“Okay, pressure is up enough, finally,” said the mutant. “Open the valve. Release the sleeping gas.”
The mutant sounded so jubilant, Luke knew it was essential to stop him. His eyes scanned feverishly for a weapon.
There were tools scattered over the massive pump. Several looked heavy enough to serve as clubs. But the mutant skinhead was standing too close.
The second skinhead—fully human—reached up to turn a round handle above a bank of computers. For the first time, Luke noticed the pictures on the screens.
They showed ordinary Greenfield streets. People sat on porches, enjoying the end of the mild evening.
The handle squeaked slightly as the skinhead turned it. The noise from the pump dropped. It settled into a steady pulse.
There was a moment of quiet. No one moved.
“Oowee, look at that,” the human skinhead cried. “It works fast.”
The mutant moved over to see the screen, his tattoo wrinkling with anticipation.
Luke seized his chance. He sprang at the pump. He grabbed the heavy tool, already spinning with it.
The mutant’s arm snaked toward Luke with amazing quickness. But Luke had the momentum. The metal tool connected with the mutant’s skull, and he went down like a stone.
The human skinhead’s eyes were wide. He backed up, feeling behind him for a weapon of his own.
Luke closed in, his blood hot.
There was a small sound behind him.
Instinctively Luke ducked. But not quick enough.
Rubbery arms closed around him.
Luke jammed his elbows backwards in a hard jab. He hit nothing but air.
And then he couldn’t move at all.
“Grab some cord. Tie him up.”
Luke was so shocked, the fight went out of him.
The voice was Mrs. Grundy’s. She was speaking to someone in the hallway. “This darn whippersnapper’s been trouble since the day he was born,” she growled.
“I’ve got some. I’ll do it.” With a sinking pang, Luke recognized the second voice as well. Jeff.
Luke’s arms were seized and roughly bound.
The mutant on the floor was beginning to stir. He sat, groaned, and fixed murderous eyes on Luke. His lips parted in a snarl as he started up.
“Leave him alone,” Mrs. Grundy ordered, her skinny boneless arms waving like overcooked spaghetti. “Q wants this one for himself.” Then she chuckled, a sound that rasped down Luke’s spine like a rusty file. “Would you look at that. Amazing!”
On the computer screens, something strange was happening. A man slumped forward in a rocking chair. A woman reaching for a child suddenly fell to the ground. The child was already unconscious.
“I’ll take him to Q.” It was Jeff. His voice dripped with malice. “It will be my pleasure.”
He gripped Luke’s arm painfully just above the elbow. His eyes were dead above the spiteful grin.
Mrs. Grundy nodded absently. She was absorbed by the images on the screens. People dropping like flies.
“Hurry back,” she said. “We have zombie slaves just waiting for us to come along and claim them.” She turned to Luke. “The aliens cured my cancer. And now I’m going to live forever, with all of Greenfield to do my bidding.” Her old face crinkled with glee. “Unlike you,” she added and cackled.
Jeff joined in the laughter.
The sound pierced Luke like a viper’s bite.
Chapter Forty
Red stars sparkled in amazing spirals against the black sky.
But how could the stars be red? Red as blood. Blood.
Something wasn’t right.
Mandy heard a retching noise.
Light flooded the black sky. Her eyes sprang open.
The room whirled.
She was still in Quentin’s awful room. The mutant girl Lucy lay on the floor, moaning, in a puddle of vomit.
Mandy’s breath rattled in her aching throat. She scrambled to her feet.
Out of here. She had to get out of here.
There was movement in the corner. Mandy froze. But it was only the dyzych, comatose or nearly so.
Mandy started for the door. But as she stepped over the alien’s splayed legs, she heard footsteps. Running. Down the hall toward her.
Her heart sank. She had so nearly escaped.
Her eyes darted, looking for a place to hide. Under the bed. She shuddered.
The only other place was in the old-fashioned wardrobe. Mandy crossed the room and opened it. It was full of Quentin’s clothes.
The smell of him—his Quentin stench—made her feel faint. It’s only a smell, she told herself. She had to hide. Seeing Lucy and the dyzych, Quentin would assume she had fled. He’d go looking for her, and then she could escape.
Holding her breath, she climbed into the wardrobe. Her skin puckered at the touch of his things.
The footsteps stopped. “Mandy?”
She almost fell out of the wardrobe. “Luke!”
“What are you doing in there?”
“I thought you were Quentin,” she said, throwing her arms around him.
She realized she had never done so before and felt a rush of happiness.
But fear bubbled just under the surface. “We’ve got to get out of here!” she urged, tugging Luke toward the door.
“Don’t worry about Quentin,” he said, pulling her back inside. “I’ve taken care of him. And everything else. I’ve stopped the dyzychs.”
Mandy stopped, feeling disoriented. Luke’s voice sounded flat, strained.
“I’m exhausted,” Luke said. “Let’s sit for a minute.”
Exhausted, that explained it. Of course he was exhausted. “What did you do with Quentin?” she asked, marveling. Quentin had begun to seem invincible to her. A sort of perverted Superman.
“I’ll tell you all about it. But first let me hold you.”
He pulled her toward the bed. Mandy followed. She sat beside him, uneasily.
Luke pulled her close, almost roughly. Muscles jumped under her skin.
This wasn’t like him. But he had just vanquished an alien race single-handedly. It was natural he’d be different after that.
“Wait, Luke,” she said. “It’s this awful room. I can’t relax in here. Please, let’s go.”
“Maybe you’re right. I know just the spot.” Luke got up, keeping hold of her hand.
As Luke passed out the door, he looked back. Lucy was glaring suspiciously at him from the floor.
He winked at her. Quentin’s wink.
Chapter Forty-one
Out in the hallway, Jeff maintained his vise-grip hold on Luke’s elbow.
“Let me go,” Luke whispered heatedly. “We’re brothers, doesn’t that count for something? Come on, Jeff. Snap out of it!”
But Jeff did not respond. It was as if he had been programed by Quentin.
As Luke struggled to get free, he tripped. As he fell, he saw alien eyes looking out of his brother’s face. “Get up. We must obey,” his brother said.
Luke threw himself at Jeff’s knees, catching him by surprise. Jeff went down hard, smacking the back of his head on the floor with a dull thud.
Quickly Luke pressed his bandana-wrapped forehead against Jeff’s, willing the magnets to work.
There was no response. Had he killed his own brother?
Then Jeff groaned and sat up, rubbing his head. “I’m back!” he gasped.
“What?”
“My head. Quentin must have hypnotized me or something. He had a lock on my mind. It was creepy. Like I was someone else.” Jeff’s eyes were undeniably his own, and that made Luke feel almost giddy with relief.
Jeff quickly untied the knots binding Luke’s arms. “We’ve got to find some weapons and stop those guys. They’re going to turn Mom and Dad and the whole town into slaves for the aliens.”
“Where’s Quentin?” Luke asked, his blood beginning to pump once again.
“He’s—” Jeff’s face drained of color. “He’s got Mandy. She’s supposed to join him on the ship. As his mate.”
Luke’s expression darkened. “You know where they are?”
Jeff shrank in on himself. “Yeah. But we can’t go there. He’ll get us both. We won’t be any use with Quentin in our minds.”
“He has no more power over us,” Luke said. He pulled a couple of magnets out of his bandana. Stuck them in Jeff’s pockets. “Keep these on you. I’ll explain as we go.”
Jeff looked doubtful, but he led Luke into the back part of the ship and through a door Luke hadn’t seen before. There was a short hallway. Light spilled from an open door.
Luke heard a groan. He broke into a run.
“Careful,” Jeff whispered.
Luke paid no attention. He wasn’t afraid of Quentin anymore. He ached to sink his fists into Quentin’s soft belly.
But the room was empty. Except for a sick alien. And that poor mutant girl. She sat against the wall, arms wrapped around her stomach.
Luke slumped. He didn’t know where to look next.
He didn’t notice Lucy fix her cold insect eyes on his back.
Chapter Forty-two
Mandy’s nerves prickled. “Why are we going this way?” she asked as Luke pulled her through the door that led into the ship. “If it’s all over, can’t we go out through the rock passage?”
“I want to show you what I’ve done,” Luke said.
His gloating tone sent a shiver through her. Something was wrong here.
Suddenly she realized what it was. “Luke, where is your bandana?”
“My bandana?”
A jolt of alarm sizzled up Mandy’s spine. This wasn’t the Luke she knew and loved. Without the magnets, he was Quentin’s robot.
She tried to keep her breathing steady. He must not guess.
Mandy forced a laugh. “Let go a minute. You’re hurting my hand.”
But his grip tightened. Mandy felt her mind go slowly numb.
“How did you guess?” Luke asked. “I thought I was doing so well.”
But Mandy couldn’t answer. She was locked away again, as quick as that. Her mind was crawling with horrors.
Luke opened the door to one of the examining rooms. “Upsy daisy,” he said gleefully in Quentin’s voice.
Mechanically, Mandy climbed onto the gurney. Her mind was screaming.
Luke pressed a button and a tool jumped to life, shrieking along with her.
“I’ve thought of a unique experiment,” he said over the piercing noise of the tool. He held the tool out so she could see it.
It was a saw. Buzzing so fast it was a blur.
Portions of her mind blanked out.
“I thought I might remove the top of your skull.” He grinned at her and bent to watch her eyes. He frowned. “You’re not there, Mandy. We can’t have you absent.”
She felt a tingle of pain, like an electric shock passing behind her eyes. Instantly every nerve was alive. She could feel the blood flowing in her veins.
“Luke!” she screamed inside her head. “How can you do this?”
She knew Luke had no control, but her eyes searched for him. What she found instead drained her last hope. She realized it wasn’t Luke at all, but Quentin shaping himself to look like him. Which meant there was no hope for her. None at all.
“I’m going to remove the skull so I can watch what happens in the brain when I make you my mate,” he said. “No one has ever determined if there is any actual physical response in the brain.”
He shivered with delight and lowered the screaming saw.
Chapter Forty-three
A low, unpleasant laugh jerked Luke around.
Luke looked away after the dull black eyes met his. A vein quivered in Lucy’s bulbous forehead.
“Quentin,” she said in a weak raspy voice. “I know where he is.”
Luke came to attention.
“He must have poisoned my food,” Lucy gasped. “And now he’s playing nasty games with that girl.”
“Where?” Luke felt his throat closing with fear.
“He’s going to make her like me.” Lucy shrugged weakly. “Or maybe he’s just going to cut her up. Whichever, he’s in one of those rooms.”
She slumped against the wall again, overcome by another fit of retching.
Luke set off at a run, retracing his steps. Jeff was right behind him.
“We need weapons,” Jeff pleaded.
“All I need are my fists,” Luke said, pounding down the hall.
He yanked open a door but the room was silent, the gurneys empty. Before he reached the next one, the shrill sound reached him.
He couldn’t be too late. His heart constricted. Luke skidded to a stop, his noise covered by that piercing whine.
He looked around the edge of the door.
He saw himself. Lowering a medical-type saw onto Mandy’s head.
“Stop!” he yelled, the sound torn from his throat.
His double wheeled around in surprise.
As Luke stared, the illusion melted away. Quentin snarled at him with an expression that was distinctly non-human. He held the saw close to Mandy’s head.
“What are you going to do, big boy?” Quentin demanded, his voice booming.
Luke swallowed. He hardly dared breathe. The whirring blade was almost pressing Mandy’s skull.
“Rush me and I plunge this nifty little tool right through her pretty head,” Quentin taunted. “Oops, no more Mandy.”
Jeff came up behind Luke and grabbed him roughly. He jerked him into the room. “Sorry, Q,” he said in the flat voice Luke had come to dread. “He got away from me.�
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“Maybe it’s better this way. Bring him closer,” Quentin ordered. “I want to be sure he can make out the details.”
Luke felt Jeff give him a nudge. He stayed stiff when Jeff let go. Jeff moved toward the gurney, his face slack, his hand in his pocket. “Can I watch, too?” he asked.
Quentin shrugged.
He bent over Mandy once again.
Then a shadow crossed his face. He winced, jerking the saw. It dipped, missing Mandy’s head by a fraction.
Luke’s heart skipped.
The presence in his brain wavered, uncertain.
Luke shot Jeff a look. It was now or never.
“Go, brother,” Luke said.
Jeff threw the magnets onto the gurney.
“Hey!” Quentin said, startled, just as Mandy’s hand jerked up and knocked the surgical saw flying. The blade skittered on the floor and then bounced up, catching Quentin on the ankle.
“EEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEE!”
Quentin shrieked as a little green liquid spurted from his injured ankle. His eyes began to glow with heat.
“Now you die!” he screamed.
Quentin leaped through the air, his hands turning into writhing tentacles that whipped around Luke’s neck.
Luke felt the strength being drained from his body. The tentacles tightened, and he saw Quentin’s head throbbing and pulsing, as if the alien creature inside was about to come out.
Quentin’s mouth opened. His teeth had become fangs dripping with venom.
“Say good-bye, Lukie boy.”
The tentacles were so tight that Luke felt nothing but pain. He couldn’t even hear what Quentin was saying. The words sounded like a buzz or a whirr.
The whirr of the surgical saw.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
An inhuman, high-pitched shriek was suddenly coming from Quentin. The tentacles suddenly released Luke. As he choked in some much needed air, he saw that Mandy was wielding the surgical saw.
She’d hacked off Quentin’s tentacles. The slimy things writhed on the floor as if they had a life of their own.
“Too late!” Quentin shrieked as he collapsed, spewing more of the disgusting green liquid. “You still lose!”