"That ain't gonna happen." Eli aimed the arrow at the stranger's heart. "Now where is she?"
"Don't know what you mean, partner —"
The stranger's words died in his throat and his dark eyebrows arched over beady eyes, stark white amid the mud. He backed up and raised a finger to his hidden mouth, as if telling them to be quiet. He reached the edge of the plateau and waved goodbye. Bolted over its lip and disappeared.
Eli darted to the edge and peered down. The archer thudded to the bottom of the hill. Eli aimed his crossbow again, nestled his finger behind the trigger. Imagined the arrow sinking into the stranger's neck.
So easy.
No more bloodshed.
Eli dropped his crossbow, let it hang harmlessly by his side. Something tugged at his sleeve.
"We have to get out of here," Jane whispered.
The stranger vanished into the wilderness. Eli found Jane's face, freckles blazing bright across her blanched skin, eyes wide and quivering, pleading with him.
She pointed to the right.
Four thin forms ambled from their hiding place among the trees, into the open plateau. They were smiling, dry lips pulled back to reveal brown teeth, bulbous yellow eyes hungrily exploring Eli and Jane's bodies.
They were easy prey.
The Parasites were clad in leathers, their chests bare, ferns wound into the rat's nests of their hair. Three held spears, the fourth a crumpled mess of netting. They traded glances and hooted, the sound dry in their bony throats. Beneath their leathery skin, sinewy muscle flexed.
Two of them sprinted backward down the hill, toward Lily and the others. They disappeared. The other two headed for Eli and Jane.
Frank.
He was alone by that snag of trees, waiting for his daughter.
Eli grabbed Jane's shoulder and pushed. "Run! Back to Frank!"
Jane sprinted to the plateau's opposite edge and Eli followed, racing down the hill. Bare feet thumped against the forest floor, pursuing them. Eli glanced over his shoulder and spied the Parasites' blurred forms.
"High ground!" Eli yelled.
They reached a small river, both banks a slurry of black mud pocked with boulders, thrown like dice across the earth. Jane pointed her spear at a tall boulder a dozen feet ahead. "There!"
They squelched through mud, hopped over the river to the other side, their feet slipping on mud. Jane disappeared behind the granite bulk and Eli fell by her side. He slammed his back against the rock, listening. Jane pulled herself into a tight ball.
Bare feet smacking mud. Rattling breaths. Guttural grunts.
Eli peered around the boulder's edge, pushing his cheek against its cold surface, breathing in its mineral smell.
Both Parasites stood on the opposite side of the river. They searched the woods for their quarry, eyes popping from wasted skulls, thin necks twisting like rope. Eli snapped back behind the rock, closed his eyes, breathed deep. Jane did the same next to him.
Stay calm, stay invisible.
Eli aimed his crossbow. Slid his finger behind the trigger. Held his breath and craned around the rock.
He picked one of the two Parasites: the one with a leather band wrapped around its forehead, a silver scar covering his shoulder. Eli wondered if he was wounded before or after he was infected.
A tingling rush pricked his trigger finger. The target craned its neck to the sky, spread its lips, and let out a chilling call: several yips, each starting small then swelling to a shrill, abrupt screech.
Eli released a hiss of breath. Pressed the trigger. The arrow whisked through the air and crunched into the Parasite's skull. The keen of its last call echoed into the distance as it fell into the mud, dead.
Eli tried to ignore the spike of blood pressure, the thrilling rush of adrenaline. The allure of power over a creature's life.
The other Parasite watched its companion drop. This one was shorter, balding. Dirt and grime half hid a tattoo stamped on its chest. A tiger? The creature locked eyes on the boulder. Lips peeled back in a black, toothless sneer. It growled, dug in its heels, and ran toward him.
Eli notched another arrow. Aimed his weapon. The Parasite spotted him, dead eyes searing into his, and splashed through the river. He slid his finger behind the trigger. A ripple of energy sparked every nerve. He pressed.
The Parasite stopped. The arrow's point sunk between vacant, black eyes. They froze, widened in fear and pain. The Parasite stood still a moment, then crumpled backward, its head splashing in the river.
The forest was silent for a breath. Long enough for the blackness of remorse to curl at the corners of Eli's mind like smoke. Jane released a shuddering breath; her bright eyes called him back.
In the distance, a man bellowed.
The sound of Frank's voice, alone and fearful, was like ice in Eli's veins.
"Frank!" Jane hissed.
They hurled themselves from their hiding place and barreled through the forest. Green and brown blurred past. Gray shadows, yellow shafts of light. Sodden earth, sweat, dead leaves, balsam. Jane grunted heavily beside him.
They found the railroad bed, a narrow valley dug through the earth. The tangle of branches and the fallen tree. Frank and his tan jacket, red hair, an ax above his head. His mouth guard gathered at his neck, forgotten.
You worry too much.
A Parasite crept toward Frank lazily, searching its surroundings. It knew this old, infirm human had strong, healthy friends. Suitable additions to the tribe.
Eli and Jane ran down the hill, shuddered to a stop at the tangle of branches. Frank spotted them, and his face fell when he saw they didn't have Lily.
"Back off!" Frank growled at the Parasite. He glanced over his shoulder. "You two, get out of here. I got him." He tightened his grip on the ax handle. "Leave them alone."
The Parasite's lip curled with desire. It had a bushy beard, thick and tangled and full of brambles and crumbs and grease. It leaned back its head and its mouth split open to expose yellow teeth. A shrill series of hoots burst from its mouth, joyous and hungry.
It lunged.
Frank ran toward the Parasite, ax raised.
Eli shouldered his crossbow and readied an arrow. Aimed for the heart, for the instant kill.
The arrow whirred through the air. In those few seconds, Eli prayed. The point struck the creature above the nipple. It wailed as blood streamed from the hole in its chest. It stumbled, but did not fall.
Eli cursed his mistake and bit his lip until it bled. Tried to notch another arrow with shaking hands. The creature reached for Frank.
"No!"
Eli ran down the hill, watching from behind as Frank's blade sliced deep into the Parasite's belly. The creature wailed again. Frank heaved the ax again hard into the creature's neck. Blood sprayed from the cut, cascaded down its filthy chest. The Parasite tore at the wound, confused and stunned. It fell to the earth.
Frank stood still with his back to Eli; the ax thumped to the ground. Eli ran the remaining few feet to Frank's side. His friend turned around slowly.
His clothes were drenched in blood. Red splattered his face and lips.
Infected blood.
Frank stared at Eli, knowing this. Understanding what it meant — that he had thirty seconds left before he turned.
"You're okay. You're okay, you're okay," Eli chanted.
Frank fell to the ground. Eli knelt beside his friend as he clenched and fidgeted, his limbs trembling, reached out a hand to comfort him.
"You can't, Eli," said a voice behind him.
"It tingles." Frank winced. "And burns."
Twenty seconds.
Eli found the knife at his hip and unsheathed it. "It'll be done soon."
Frank turned his eyes to the sky and a single tear fell down his temple. He winced like someone was holding his skin over an open flame. "Find Becky. Don't let anyone hurt her."
"I won't," Eli said. His tears plopped onto the sodden dirt. "I promise."
Fifteen seconds.
> If he didn't do it soon, Frank would turn and die a Parasite, like Squirrel.
Eli tightened his grip on the knife.
Ten seconds.
Eli closed his eyes and placed the point against Frank's temple as his entire body seized, stiff and straight.
Five seconds.
Never mind it, Lily. Those things are as good as dead.
Eli took a deep breath and he forced the blade in.
Frank quieted. Eli slid the blade out and threw it to the ground. He opened his eyes and looked upon Frank's dead face. The blood drenching his clothes. The dead Parasite at his feet. The dark woods, stretching around them.
Good as dead.
The air was suddenly stifling and Eli gasped for breath. Heat burned his cheeks and his body shivered with a cold, clammy sweat. He clasped a gloved hand to his mouth and screamed into it, squeezing his eyes shut until they hurt.
Strong hands pulled at his shoulders. Dragged him across the dirt. Something warm and forceful wrapped tightly around his body and a hand clasped the back of his head. Fingers curled into his hair and stroked his scalp.
"Shh," a voice cooed in his ear.
The arms rocked him as he cried hard and long and silently into something soft and solid.
It smelled like rosemary.
Chapter 13
Eli remembered Jane pulling him to his feet. Holding him softly by the hand. Leading him out of those dark woods.
Scenes drifted by.
A stream, soft sunlight on the forest floor, asphalt hard under his feet.
A road sign. "Welcome to Hudson Falls. Nice People, Nice Town."
A rough log, Jane's arm bumping his. Water trickling down his throat and his teeth crunching tasteless food. A hand tugging on his arm, pulling him to his feet. Fingers entwined with his.
He walked.
He passed an electrical pole laying across the road, covered in fuzzy green moss. The frame of a house, a tree growing through its one remaining window.
Jane's voice echoed somewhere in the fog. It was husky, firm, and impatient, and called Eli over and over again.
The scenes inside his mind were far more vivid.
Lily, with her knobby brown knees, being dragged into the woods.
A rhythmic hoot, echoing into the sky.
Frank screaming, "Lily!"
An arrow punching through skin.
Frank moaning, "It burns."
The hilt of the knife pressed into Eli's hand, its point sliding into Frank's temple. A soft thud when the weapon dropped to the forest floor. Frank's dead face.
"Eli," Jane said.
A billboard hovered ahead of him, paper peeling and fluttering in the wind to hide its faint words. Eli squinted but couldn't make sense of them. The toe of his boot caught on a shard of asphalt and he stumbled.
Jane's voice, now hoarse and tight, punched through the fog again. "Run!"
Eli's stomach hollowed. Jane's sweaty hand tugged his and he ran, not knowing why. He blindly followed her bobbing shoulders and ragged breathing.
"Move your ass!" she screeched.
The realization was like a loud noise waking him from sleep. The world cleared, sounds sharpened. He smelled night coming on the damp air and heard something whistling behind him. His body felt weak and a stitch stabbed his belly. He didn't know what time it was, how long they'd been running, if a day had passed or seven.
The whistling grew to a chorus of wailing animal voices.
Parasites.
He wasn't sure how many were behind them. It could've been three, but it sounded like a dozen. He didn't have to look: they yipped at his heels.
"There!" Jane cried. She dropped his hand and pointed ahead.
A straight, narrow driveway shot up a hill to a farmhouse. It sagged at the crest next to a tall, twisting tree. Jane turned right off the road and up the hill, and Eli's legs buckled with weakness. He fell, landing on his side, dead leaves scraping his cheek. Piercing, excited howls screeched close behind him, jolting him to his feet.
Ahead, the house's details shivered into focus: two stories; wide, boarded windows; splintered wood and patchy paint, bone white against the gray sky. The weedy driveway leading to it seemed to stretch forever.
Something swished in the grass beside him: a net. The house neared. Jane hopped up its steps to a wide-open door. Eli dug in his heels, forced a burst of speed to cover the last few feet. Dragged his leaden body up the steps and into the stench of dampness and rot and dust. He was in a hallway; a staircase stretched upward in front of him and two large rooms opened to the left and right. Dim light, like that of early morning, traced dusty, forgotten shapes.
He pushed the door shut and held his weight against it. Jane vanished into shadow, then quickly came back with a table, and they shoved it against the door.
A shrieking call burst through the only open window with a sound like shattering glass. Eli rushed to the empty frame.
"We have to find something!" he yelled, a vein in his neck thumping hard in his neck.
Eli peered outside: a dozen Parasites, maybe more, sliced through the tall grass up the hill and to the house. Their collective screeching split his eardrums. He pulled himself from the window and scoured the house, its every inch littered with leaves and animal bones, for something to bar the window.
"Here!" Jane called. She pointed to a tall hutch in the living room.
Together, they hauled the massive, heavy thing to the window; it muffled the voices. Eli raced to another room, found another table, and upended it front of the hutch. Then a leather chair, a desk.
The Parasites thudded against the front of the house, fists pounding at the door, voices hooting at the boarded windows. The sound pounded in Eli's chest.
"Upstairs!" Eli grasped Jane's hand again and tugged.
He led Jane up rickety stairs that turned a corner at a dark landing. They raced into the first room, slammed the door shut, shoved a bedstead in front of it.
Jane wrenched the crossbow from Eli's shaking fingers. There was fire in her eyes. "I'll do it." She crossed to the window, opened it, and leaned out.
"Over here, you fuckers!" she screamed into the empty wilderness.
The crossbow swished. A pained, desperate wail pierced Eli's gut.
He plopped beneath the room's other window and leaned against the wall. Closed his eyes and listened to Jane kill them all.
Swish. A yip and a wail.
Eli took a deep breath and tried not to listen. Instead he tried to imagine grass between his toes, his small body cradled in his mother's lap, her whistling bird calls gently in his ear.
Swish. Scream.
Something thudded against the house.
Jane cursed.
Eli whistled, but he could barely hear his own voice. The sound of death outside was deafening.
Swish. Jane hooted triumphantly.
Another animal wail joined the others.
Swish. Firsts thudding against wood.
The howls and moans and wails outside now drowned out the wind in the trees, the birds chirping. Eli's fear turned into a swirling panic. He became breathless and his skin sprouted a cold sweat. He pictured the bodies tumbling to the ground, one by one. Their mouths open in pained screams. The grass became soaked with blood. The bodies morphed into Frank's, Squirrel's, those pretenders in the forest.
"Gotcha!' Jane whooped. Then she breathed deep and he heard her walk over to his side of the room. "It's over."
Eli peeled his lids open and the light burned his eyes. Jane's familiar shape stood over him.
"You're out of arrows now."
She tossed the weapon on the bed guarding the door.
"I'm sorry you had to do that ..." Eli began, but Jane didn't seem to hear him.
"I counted eight of the bastards. Don't think any got in."
The howling and the pounding of fists had stopped, and for a moment the world was silent again. Then from the yard below, the creatures' dying groans ruined the quiet with
the sound of pain and fear. The same sound that came from Frank's mouth before Eli slid a blade into his skull.
Eli dropped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes again, trying to fight the image. His breath came shallow and quick, his heart racing. He let the black pit open before him and fell in, head first.
"You need to rest." Jane's voice was far away. "That's what I'm going to do. And wait for them to die ..."
Her voice drifted off and Eli's head grew fuzzy. Darkness closed in. He heard Jane moving through the room and the creaking of the bed.
I should be protecting you... Taking care of you...
The chorus of dying groans carried Eli into sleep. His last thoughts were of guilt and shame, and of Frank, his lips sprayed with infected blood.
Chapter 14
Eli woke and the world around him was changed. It was night, the groans outside had quieted, and he opened his eyes on an unfamiliar room.
Details glowed silver with moonlight: scuffed wood floors, blue-striped wallpaper, small framed pictures of horses on the wall. A handmade quilt, dusty but otherwise in one piece, decorated the bed. Jane lay on top of it, breathing slow and heavy.
Slowly, sleep receded and reality set in.
Eli's stomach spasmed and he heaved over the wood floor, but nothing came out. He fell back on the wall, weak and shivering. The bed squeaked as Jane stirred, but she didn't wake. When the trembling stopped, he rose from the floor silently and crept downstairs into the belly of the strange house, his footsteps disturbing a years-long silence. The house felt like a tomb.
With Frank's ax, Eli busted apart a few chairs for kindling and piled them in the fireplace. Took out his flint and steel. In a few minutes, a spark lit the tinder and the kindling burst into flame. He stoked it until the fire grew, set the flaming bundle in the fireplace, added more wood. Soon the neglected, dusty room was filled with warmth and light.
He sat on a couch opposite the fire, next to a tangle of blankets that had been tossed back years before and a pillow still dimpled with the shape of someone's head. The flames danced in the grate; the quiet, the entrancing rhythm of the fire, gave Eli's mind room to wander. A face, blank and bloodied, emerged from the gloom of his thoughts.
The Human Wilderness (A New America Trilogy Book 1) Page 11
