Lesslie screamed and ran into the back. “Barry, help!”
She hit the swinging door to the kitchen, to find Barry poking his head around the corner of one of the large stainless warmers.
“What’s—?” His eyes went from concerned to fearful as he saw the man chasing Lesslie through the door. “Hey!” Evidently something in Barry’s mind identified the man as a threat, and his eyes went dark. He stepped out from behind the warmer and moved toward the man. Lesslie ran past him and turned.
“Buddy, you need to get the hell out of here.”
That was when the man’s wife came through the door as well. Both of them were still laughing uncontrollably. Barry reached to the bench behind him and picked up one of the many large butcher knives they used to cut the barbecue. Lesslie knew just how sharp they kept those blades. She reached out and grabbed one, too. Barry waved the knife at the man. “I ain’t kidding, mister. You get out now or I’ll call the cops.”
The man stopped and laughed even harder, though he seemed to be struggling to get words out. “That’s not, heh hee. Not a phone!”
Before Lesslie or Barry either one could reply, Mr. Riley threw himself at Barry. Barry screamed, pulling back even as he reflexively shoved the knife toward the threat. The blade slid into Riley effortlessly, but the man still didn’t stop. Barry screamed again, yanked his knife back, then plunged it again into the man.
Lesslie’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of Doug Riley’s blood pouring onto the floor even as he continued to claw his way past the blade and reach for Barry’s throat. But his movements were less coordinated by the second, and she could see he was dying. The woman behind him was another matter. Mrs. Riley dove past her dying husband and latched her teeth onto Barry’s bicep. He screamed again, releasing the knife buried in the now motionless Mr. Riley and staggered back under this second attacker’s onslaught.
Her teeth released their purchase on his arm, and the smaller woman crawled up his body and bit his ear. She didn’t bite his earlobe, or some other specific part of his ear. Lesslie watched dumbfounded as the woman stuffed Barry’s entire ear into her mouth. Barry’s shouts turned into shrieks as she clamped down, and Lesslie wanted to gag as she saw his ear come away in the woman’s mouth.
She saw her friend collapse in pain, and the crazy lady clawed at his face, even as she chewed on his ear. Still, Lesslie hesitated. A little voice in the back of her mind tried to rationalize that she couldn’t stab the woman for fear of cutting Barry, but deep down she knew she was simply too terrified of taking another person’s life to take action. She cried in frustration as the woman clawed at her friend, leaving bloody streaks on his face.
“Lesslie!”
He looked at her, his eyes pleading for her help, and finally she moved in with her knife. Attacking from behind, Lesslie drove the knife deep into the woman’s back. She pulled it back and was sickened when the meat surrounding the blade resisted with a sucking sound. She yanked, then drove it home again, then a third time.
She must have hit something vital that last time, for the woman finally fell. She rolled onto her back, looking at Lesslie, blood spraying lightly from her mouth as she continued to cackle, even as she died.
Barry coughed, and Lesslie turned her attention to her mangled friend. “Barry?” she sobbed. “Barry, are you okay?” She knew it was a stupid question, but she didn’t know what else to say.
He looked at her with tears in his own eyes, and she thought how strange they looked on her friend. She had never seen a man cry like that. Of course she’d never seen a man get his ear chewed off, either. “I been better, darlin’.” He dragged himself into a sitting position and leaned back against the warmer. He lifted a shaking hand up to the side of his head, touched a fingertip to the ragged skin where his ear had been, and hissed in pain.
“Don’t do that!” Lesslie chided. “Hang on while I call 911.” Thankful she kept her phone in her left pocket, she dug into her pocket with her clean hand. Her right hand was coated in Mrs. Riley’s blood. As Lesslie punched in the digits, she noticed how much her hands were trembling. She put the phone to her ear, irrationally self-conscious of the fact that she still had an ear when Barry didn’t.
The answer was immediate, and the man’s voice sounded almost frantic as he answered. “Nine-one-one. Please state the nature of your emergency.”
“My name’s Lesslie Lamphere and I’m at Smokey Joe’s…” She stopped herself. They wouldn’t care about the name of the place, they would want the address. “We’re at the intersection of Nebraska Avenue and I-45 South. We were just attacked by two—”
“Were they laughing?”
A chill when up Lesslie’s spine at the man’s interruption. “How did you know?”
“Ma’am, we’re not sure what’s going on, but you need to keep away from them. We have reports coming in from all over. All I can tell you is to not approach them, and don’t let them bite you. We have a lot of reports of them trying to bite people. Lock yourself in and wait for help. We’ll get someone there as soon as we can.”
“But they’re dead. We killed them.”
“Were you injured?”
“No, but my friend was. She bit his ear off.”
“She bit him?”
Lesslie was getting frustrated. “She didn’t just bite him. She bit his ear completely off!”
“Ma’am, you need to get away from all of them. You say you killed the attackers? Did you get any of their blood on you?”
“What?” She looked down at her blood-soaked apron. Blood ran down her right arm and dripped from her hand. “Yes. Yes I did.”
There was a pause. “Lock yourself in the building and stay away from the windows. Don’t let anyone else know you’re there. We’ll get someone there as soon as we can.”
“We’re going to need an ambulance. My friend is…” The line went dead. “…bleeding.” She swallowed nervously.
“They on the way?” Barry wasn’t looking at her, staring instead at the warped reflection in the side of the stainless refrigerator in front of him.
“Yeah,” she lied. “They said it might take a while, though. It seems there are a lot of these attacks going on.”
Barry turned to her. “No shit?”
“That’s what they said.” She put a hand on his face and turned his head to get a better look at his ear. Or rather, where his ear had been. She pushed down the gorge that threatened and tried to smile reassuringly. “Let me see what we have in the first-aid kit and I’ll clean this thing up for you.”
She started to leave him and stopped as he groaned. She laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “You going to be all right while I’m gone?”
He shook his head and chuckled. “Do I look all right?”
His chuckle turned to a chortle, then a full-blown belly laugh. Lesslie’s skin crawled as she saw the horror in his eyes. “That’s not all that funny, is it?” But he kept laughing. Then the terror in his eyes changed to anger and he launched himself at her.
Chapter 46
Charles Griffe
Gains and Losses
Chris’s master key made things easier, allowing them to simply pop into the nearest cabin whenever they saw or heard any pursuit. The problem was that the crazies seemed to be getting much quieter. Charlie didn’t know if it was because they were becoming stealthier, or if they were actually going hoarse from all the yelling and laughing. Either way, it was getting harder to hear them coming.
They also found more traveling companions—people who hadn't succumbed to laughter. The first two joined them shortly after they had left the cabin on Nine. They had heard the trampling of a large group of crazies running through the corridor before them and had slipped into a cabin just a few doors up the hall from where they had started. They found an elderly couple, Merl and Celina Errington, cowering inside. They'd spent almost an hour resting in the cabin, exchanging stories, and in the end, the couple had elected to join them. Charlie had been none too
happy, as he was sure the old man and woman were bound to slow them down, but he'd had little say in the matter.
They entered the stairwell, now five strong, and Tabby’s flashlight gave them surer footing in the darkness. They quickly found that it also made them a target. They were halfway between Decks Nine and Eight, with the Erringtons moving a bit slower than the others, when the sound of footsteps and low chuckles began to rise from the darkness below. Chris was in the lead and cursed as he skipped down the stairs to the door. “Hurry! Sounds like they’re still a couple of decks below.” He pulled the next door open enough to peer out, then opened it all the way. “We get out here.”
Tabby helped Celina down the stairs, and Charlie brought up the rear, all the while pushing back thoughts of shoving the old couple down the stairs. But all five of them made it out and hurried to the shadows of the starboard cabins. As was quickly becoming their modus operandi, they rounded the corner, and as soon as they were out of sight, Chris opened the door of another cabin.
They all slipped quickly inside. Merl and Celina sat heavily on the bed, and Charlie rolled his eyes.
Look at those old farts. One flight of stairs and a thirty-yard sprint and they’re suckin’ air like fish outta water. I’m tellin’ you boy, they’re gonna get you killed.
Charlie bit back his sharp reply. He didn’t need the others thinking he was crazy.
But ain’t you, though?
His mouth went dry at that thought. He hadn’t needed the meds in years now. Of course, he hadn’t had dear old Dad talking in his head for years, either. The fear of that particular line of thought was interrupted as Tabby slipped past them and opened the curtains at the balcony. The pale light of daybreak faintly illuminated the cabin as Charlie turned to Chris. “Well, at least we’re on the right side of the ship now.”
Chris nodded. “One more deck and up the length of the ship.”
Charlie drew closer to Chris and lowered his voice. “You think the geezers can make it?”
Chris looked over at them. “We’ll just have to take it easy on them. There’s not that much farther to go. They’ll be all right.”
The sound of breaking glass interrupted them, and Charlie spun to find Tabby squatting over the remains of the dresser mirror, carefully picking through the pieces. She made a satisfied noise and pinched a long sliver between her thumb and index finger. Charlie remembered what she had cut him with and nodded. He turned back to Chris. “Probably not a bad idea.”
Chris nodded, and the two of them walked to the mess and began poking through the broken glass as well. Charlie found a piece that looked like a crooked dagger and picked it up. He turned and saw Tabby rummaging through the closet. She pulled out a pair of jeans and used the piece of mirror to slice long strips out of the denim. Wrapping the base of the mirror, she created a safe handle for her makeshift dagger and nodded.
Apparently satisfied with her project, she looked up to see Chris and Charlie watching her. She tossed them the remains of the blue jeans and the two men followed her lead, cutting strips of cloth to wrap around their own weapons. As he worked on his weapon, Charlie thought he heard a tapping. He froze, listening for the noise to repeat itself.
Chris saw him and stopped moving as well. “What?”
Charlie shook his head, “I thought I—”
There it was again. “Did you hear that?”
Chris nodded and signaled Tabby to come over.
Merl called from where he and his wife sat on the bed. “Wha—?”
“Sh!” The tapping sounded once again. Tabby, Chris, and Charlie walked to the wall where Tabby had broken the mirror. Before Charlie could stop her, Tabby reached out and tapped lightly on the wall. Immediately, there was a response. Then the tapping changed to a quick pattern. It was one that every kid in the world learned at a young age: three fast, three slow, and three fast.
“SOS?”
Charlie rolled his eyes. Chris had a talent for stating the obvious.
Tabby shone the flashlight along the wall. “What are you doing?” Charlie asked.
“Looking to see if this is a suite with an adjoining door.”
“You what?” Charlie couldn’t believe it. “You don’t know who or what’s doing the tapping. For all we know, it might be a bunch of crazies on the other side of that wall.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I don’t think they have that much sense left. I mean, I haven’t even heard any of them speak, have you?”
“As a matter of fact, I have.” Charlie recalled Purple Hair taunting him from the other side of the cabin door as he and his cohorts worked to break it down. Little pig, little pig, let me in.
She looked surprised at that. “You have?”
“Yeah. And it was creepy as shit.”
Chris nodded. “I have too. And he's right. It's pretty messed up.”
Tabby looked a bit less sure of herself at that. Chris shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter. This isn’t one of the suites that join like you’re talking about.”
The tapping sounded again. “So what do we do about that?”
Charlie shrugged. “Nothing.”
“But it’s probably somebody trying to see whether or not we’re crazy! They probably heard us break the mirror and are hoping it’s someone normal over here.”
Charlie shook his head. “How the hell do you jump to that conclusion?”
“Well, how would you explain it?”
“I wouldn’t explain it. Hell, lady, I can’t explain anything that’s happened on this damned cruise. But just because I can’t explain it doesn’t mean there isn’t a shitload of crazy ass people out there killing anyone that ain’t a member of their happy little band of lunatics.”
Further argument was interrupted when the tapping sounded again. This time, it was from the cabin door.
They all looked at one another as the tapping at the door repeated. Charlie tightened his grip on his newly fashioned weapon as Chris moved toward the door. Charlie took a deep breath and followed the man, Tabby close behind. The navigation officer leaned forward and put his eye to the peephole.
“Well?” Charlie whispered.
“One person. It’s pretty dark out there, but it doesn’t look like he’s laughing.”
“Should we let him in?” Tabby asked.
Charlie held up his shard of mirror. “There’s three of us and one of him.” Chris nodded and turned back to the door. He hesitated for another second, they yanked the door open, grabbed the man standing outside by the lapels and pulled him into the cabin before he could resist. Charlie slammed the man against the wall and shoved the sliver of mirror against his throat while Chris shut the cabin door as quickly as he had opened it.
“Hey, hey, hey!” The man from the corridor raised his hands, fear recognizable in his eyes. “No need for all this!”
“Who are you?” Charlie growled.
“Sh-Shane. Shane Kemmerling. I heard the glass break and thought I heard people moving around. I didn’t hear any laughing, so I figured I would see if you were…” He fell silent.
“What? See if we were what?”
“Normal?”
Tabby put a hand on Charlie’s arm. “Let him go, Charlie. He’s not infected.”
Charlie swallowed and nodded. The man was frightened, but hadn’t so much as smiled since he’d been dragged into their cabin. It turned out that Shane wasn’t alone. His girlfriend was in the cabin as well, and as soon as they made sure it was safe, they brought her over as well. Before the day was out, they found three more couples and a lone young boy, bringing their number up to fourteen.
Chapter 47
Linton Bowers
Us or Them
“Well, crap.”
“What’s wrong?” Emmet asked from the back seat, leaning over so he could see out the front windshield.
“Looks like our luck just ran out.”
Ahead of them was an exit ramp from the interstate that dumped traffic from the freeway, and
the insanity of the interstate was spilling onto the feeder. At least half a dozen cars were piled up ahead, and even as they watched, another car came flying off the freeway at full speed. Linton stomped on the brakes as the racing sedan clipped a pickup at the edge of the pileup, spun halfway around, and rolled over several times until it was hidden from their view behind the pileup. Smoke began to waft up from behind the wreckage, while all around the mangled mess of automobiles, people jumped and laughed.
“Can you get around?”
Linton looked at the wreckage on the left. “Maybe. If I—”
Before he could finish, flames sprang up from the wreck. “Oh crap.”
Michelle pointed to a gap on the right side. “You might be able to get through over here, but if you’re going to do it, you’d better go now, before one of those tanks explodes.”
Linton hesitated only a second, then hit the gas. “You guys might want to get down.” Michelle and Emmet stayed where they were, though, and Linton didn’t have time to worry any more about them. As he got close to the flaming pile of cars, some of the dancing menagerie from the street began to run at the truck. Linton reached blindly for the electronic door locks and made sure they were all secured. He slowed as a couple of the dancers jumped in front of him, laughing and slapping their hands on the hood.
“What are you doing?” Michelle practically shouted at him.
“What do you want me to do, run them over? They’re still people! Besides,” He eased forward as more and more of them gathered around the truck, shoving them back with the truck’s sheer mass, “it’s not like they can really stop us.”
And he was right. They could laugh and dance and slap the hood all they wanted, but his heavy-duty pickup would not be denied. Of course, there was also nothing to keep the lunatics from climbing into the bed of the truck, either.
“Linton!” Emmet drew his pistol and aimed at the two people, a man and a woman, climbing into the back, over the tarps covering all their supplies. “What d’you want me to do, man?”
Linton looked in the mirror and cursed again. The woman pawed at the tarp and pulled back a corner to reveal several boxes of food. Giggling, she ripped open the box and hefted a large can of fruit cocktail over her head. Eyes wide with glee, she threw the can into the back of the truck, cracking the sliding partition window. Her companion found that just as funny as she did, and staggered over to the box she had opened for a projectile of his own. Linton looked beyond their passengers and confirmed the road was clear. “Hang on!” He hit the brakes, and slammed the truck into reverse. The two passengers pitched toward the cab of the truck, stumbling over the uneven footing and into the cab. The woman went over the top and landed on the hood before sliding off as Linton accelerated backwards in the street.
Chucklers (Book 1): Laughter is Contagious Page 20
