Winter Cove

by Skye Knizley

  River held a finger to her lips then moved toward the closet. Like many of the doors it was electrically operated. She pressed the button and stepped back, expecting one of the infected or something worse to fall out. Instead she looked into the frightened eyes of the doctor that had taken Lucas away.

  “You,” Rylee breathed.

  The Doctor looked around wildly. “Hunter? How did you get in here? Where is the rescue team?”

  “No one is coming, the alarms are dead. What are you doing in the closet?” River asked.

  “No rescue team? There has to be, by now the whole complex must be infected!”

  “There is no one else. A handful of infected, but everyone else is dead,” Rylee said.

  The Doctor shook his head. “You have no idea, just no idea. Those things, they hide in the dark. They don’t like the light and only come out to feed. They are waiting, somewhere.”

  “Then we’ll face them. Are you injured?”

  The Doctor stood and gathered his lab coat around himself with as much dignity as he could muster. “I am uninjured. If you will escort me out I will make sure you are treated fairly.”

  River aimed her MP7 at his face. “I will help you, but I am calling the shots and when we’re through, you let us go or I will kill you. Is that understood?”

  The Doctor’s eyes crossed as he tried to focus on the gun barrel covering his nose. “Perfectly. You are free to go, you have my word.”

  “I doubt your word is worth shit,” Rylee said. “Human experimentation? You may as well be pissing on your oath, you bastard!”

  The Doctor stepped into the theater. “Nonsense, Mrs. Hunter, what I do is for the good of mankind. I have been trying to find a cure for the Overlord, the only way to find a cure is experimentation.”

  “What does experimentation have to do with a cure?” Rylee asked.

  The Doctor blinked. “Everything, Mrs. Hunter.”

  He crossed the room under River’s watchful gaze and beckoned Rylee. “Come, see why I started an autopsy on dear departed Mr. Lucas.”

  Rylee made a disgusted face but joined him beside the corpse. “What?”

  The Doctor picked up a large forceps and used it as a pointer. “Do you see this cavity? Just above the left lung?”

  Rylee’s face changed to one of curiosity. “That shouldn’t be there.”

  The Doctor nodded with satisfaction. “Precisely. That, my dear girl, is where the Overlord Parasite gestates. It begins as an airborne pathogen carried by small insects about the size of your thumbnail. Once inside a host, the pathogen begins gathering resources upon which the Overlord can feed. Once mature, it bursts out of the host through the ribcage, very messy.”

  “What happens after it escapes?” River asked.

  “That, my dear Hunter, is uncertain. We have caught and incinerated or stored as many as possible. There are still more, I am sure,” the Doctor said.

  “Doctor…er…what was your name?” Rylee asked.

  “I apologize, my name is Romero. Salem Romero,” the Doctor said.

  Rylee arched an eyebrow. “Really? Salem Romero? Any relation to George? Cause that would explain a lot.”

  Romero was blank. “My father’s name was Giovanni.”

  “Close enough. Where did this Overlord thing come from?” Rylee asked.

  “That, my dear Mrs. Hunter, is classified and need to know,” Romero said.

  River motioned with her weapon. “I think we need to know.”

  “That is not up to me. Enough show and tell, ladies. We should go,” Romero said.

  River moved to the door and looked out into the dark hallway. There was still no sign of any of the infected or the Overlord, not that she had any idea what it would look like, but something the size of a rat that burst out of a human being should be pretty obvious.

  “Where are our friends Jody and Richie?”

  Realization dawned on Romero’s face. “Ah, that explains you presence. You want your friends.”

  “Well, duh,” Rylee said. “Make with the directions, zombie boy.”

  “Your friend Jody is in a holding cell like yours…um… the one you were in. Richard is down the hall in a treatment and observation room,” Romero said. “We shouldn’t dally, he will be fine.”

  River ignored him. “Rylee, keep an eye on zombie boy. If he does anything stupid, shoot him.”

  Rylee lifted her pistol. “Gladly.”

  Romero looked displeased. “I am shocked, Mrs. Hunter, truly. I thought we had an understanding.”

  “I understand all right. Now follow her into the hallway,” Rylee snapped.

  River stepped into the darkness with her light aimed down the corridor. Behind her she heard Romero say, “This is madness!” She spun and grabbed his coat with one hand.

  “I’m not leaving anyone behind. You already cost me two friends tonight, I am not losing another,” she growled.

  She was staring at him, daring him to say something else when Rylee pointed at something behind her. “What was that?”

  “We must run!” Romero yelled.

  River pushed him away and turned, her light raised over her head. Though there were bodies in the corridor, they showed no signs of life. Or undeath.

  “What did you see, Rye?”

  “Something small, about the size of a raccoon. It ran from that body with the tattoos to the dead guy who looks like a member of ZZ Top,” Rylee said.

  River moved forward with her weapon aimed at the bearded man. He lay on his side and stared at infinity with empty eye-sockets. When she reached him, she rolled him with the toe of her boot. He fell onto his back with a wet slapping sound and lay still. There was no sign of any parasite.

  She turned from him and shone her light across the floor. A skittering noise erupted from a corpse further down the corridor and River saw it, a black creature with long crab-like legs. It crossed the corridor in a blink of speed and vanished into a broken vent.

  “What the fuck was that?” she yelled.

  “An Overlord in its mature form. It appears to be drinking blood from the fallen, though I’ve no idea why,” Romero said.

  “I think I know. Riv, you might want to back up,” Rylee said.

  River stepped away from the bearded corpse and looked where Rylee was pointing her flashlight. Two of the bodies where the Overlord had been feeding were moving. It was slow, at first, as if they didn’t know how to make their muscles work. They cracked and popped as muscle and sinew frozen by rigor mortis was forced to work, against the laws of medicine.

  River didn’t wait for them to stand. She squeezed the trigger of the MP7 and sprayed both of them at neck level. Congealed blood and flesh splattered against the wall and they both fell, only to be replaced with more, rising behind their fallen comrades.

  “Back up, back to the lobby,” River said as she fired. The pop of Rylee’s pistol joined the higher-pitched snarl of autofire and she moved forward.

  “Get the elevator, Romero, do something useful for a change!” Rylee yelled.

  Body after body fell, choking the corridor with the noisome stench of death. River reloaded the MP7 and kept firing as she backed away. There was no choice but to put them down as fast as she could. If they got close in the narrow space, she and Rylee were as good as dead. Only in the light near the elevator would they be safe.

  From the corner of her eye she saw the elevator doors open. Romero screamed in horror and River spun to see an enormous black figure huddled inside the car. It had to be at least twelve feet tall with an elongated skull, a jaw with the worst overbite she’d ever seen and teeth that glistened like polished chrome. It reached out with two three-fingered claws and grabbed Romero’s head. He screamed as it applied pressure and shattered his skull like a sack of eggs. Then it ducked beneath the doors and let out a piercing scream that set R
iver’s teeth on edge. She squeezed off a burst from the MP7 then tossed it aside as it clicked empty. She drew her pistol and fired two more shots then grabbed Rylee and shoved her into the surgical theater. River followed and hit the door close button before she turned.

  Behind her, the monster charged. Its armored skull slammed into the doors just as they closed and she saw it clawing at the glass and steel door. Its polished metal talons ripped furrows in the glass, which cracked under the pressure.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” Rylee muttered.

  River backed away from the doors. “Just stay calm, honey.”

  Rylee stood and faced River. “You keep saying that!”

  She poked River in the chest with each word. “I think now, when we’re trapped in a fucking morgue about to have our skulls crushed by some demonic monster, is the perfect time to panic!”

  With her tirade over, she shook her hand. “Ow! What the hell was that?”

  River blinked at her. It had been like being pecked by an angry bird, she wasn’t hurt, more surprised than anything. She reached inside her shirt and pulled out the amulet she’d found. It was glowing with a pale green light, almost a bioluminescence from deep within.

  “That’s new,” River said.

  “What does it mean?” Rylee asked, her panic replaced with curiosity.

  River shrugged. “No clue.”

  Out of curiosity she moved back toward the door where the Overlord was working its claws into the gap between the doors. The amulet’s glow changed from a faint to bright, so intense that the Overlord backed away from the light.

  “Is it afraid of it?”

  Rylee cocked her head. “You know, before that thing popped Romero’s head like a zit he’d said something about the Overlord only coming into the light to feed. It prefers the darkness, maybe bright light does scare it. Or cause it pain, somehow.”

  “Maybe,” River said.

  She stepped closer to the door and the Overlord backed away another step. Every step she took, the demonic thing took one until it was almost to the elevator. Filled with curiosity, River reached for the door button.

  “Um…babe, what are you doing? That thing wants to suck our brains out of our nostrils,” Rylee said.

  “I’m trying to get us out of here. Stay behind me,” River said.

  She stepped into the corridor and the Overlord screamed again, a howl of rage that made the floor shake. River raised the amulet over her head and stepped forward.

  “Back off, whatever you are!”

  The Overlord hissed, but stepped back, out of the glow of the pendant and into the crowd of infected waiting just at the edge of the bright lights. Rylee joined River in the hallway, her pistol ready.

  “This is nuts, babe,” she said.

  “Got a better idea? I’m all ears,” River shot back.

  She took a step closer to the Overlord and half turned, keeping herself between the thing and Rylee. Rylee backed toward the elevator and pressed the button, which clicked, but didn’t light up.

  “Riv, another problem, here!”

  She mashed the button several more times. Finally the button lit and there was the sound of the car returning.

  “Got it. Why the fuck do elevators always leave just when you need them the most?”

  River looked over her shoulder. “Just stay back and let me know when the elevator is here, okay? Big bad and ugly might grow a pair any second.”

  She looked back at the Overlord, which had followed her into the light. It opened its mouth revealing at least six rows of the chrome teeth, all glistening with metallic saliva. A proboscis covered in serrated barbs lunged out of its maw with blinding speed. River closed her eyes and raised her arm reflexively. She expected to feel the searing pain of a bite. Instead she felt a mild impact and the sound of something like metal on metal. She opened her eyes to see that her left arm was covered in metal. It flowed under her coat to her shoulder where it then slithered down her side. It ran like mercury and felt cold against her skin.

  The Overlord squealed and backed away as the armor continued down River’s body. In less than a second her arm, torso and legs were covered in the strange metal. It moved like she moved, without a hint of weight or restriction, yet deflected the Overlord’s attack as if it was nothing.

  Part of River was frightened and disgusted; her skin had just been covered in some kind of eldritch armor against her will. The rest of her just wanted to protect Rylee, who was staring at her in shock.

  The Overlord attacked again with its proboscis, a whip-like strike directed at her face. This time, she caught the thing in her armored hand and pulled. The Overlord was stronger than she was, but her attack caught it off guard. It keened in pain and stumbled forward, giving River an opening. She raised her pistol and fired point blank down the creature’s gullet. She squeezed the trigger over and over until the magazine was empty and the Overlord lay at her feet, silver blood dripping from its skull.

  River looked down at it and realized she still clutched its torn proboscis in her hand. She tossed it away and turned to face Rylee, who was hopping from foot to foot like an excited cheerleader.

  “That was awesome! My wife is a certified bad ass!” she yelled.

  River smiled at her and the whispers rose in her ears, louder than before. Pain lanced through her head and she clutched at it, trying to keep it from exploding. The armor rolled away as if it had never been and she fell face first onto the metal floor, unable to hear anything but the whispers.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The whispers receded as quickly as they’d come, leaving River breathless and in pain. Rylee helped her to sit up, then stand.

  “What happened, baby? Are you okay?”

  River licked lips that were suddenly dry as a desert. “There was this, this sound. Like whispering, only louder.”

  “You mean talking? I didn’t hear anything, hoochie. Did the Overlord hit you in the head?”

  River frowned as Rylee thumbed open her eye and shined a flashlight into it.

  “How many fingers am I holding up?” Rylee asked.

  “None,” River said. “It wasn’t talking, it was just noise. Like white noise, I’ve been hearing it since yesterday.”

  “Maybe it’s your PTSD? You’ve been under a lot of stress and I read sometimes it includes auditory hallucinations,” Rylee said.

  River rubbed her head and realized she was still holding the amulet. She stared into its depths and felt…something.

  “No,” she said at last. “That’s what I thought, at first. But nothing seems to trigger it. Until just now, it had been happening before danger, not during.”

  She put the necklace over her head. “Come on, let’s see if the infected are as afraid of this thing as the Overlord was.”

  They weren’t. Where the Overlord backed away from the bright glow to huddle in the shadows, the infected simply stood outside the circle of light, closing in behind as it passed by. River held Rylee close, inside the circle and pressed forward until they were beyond the crowd of living corpses and in the hallway beyond. Once past, she turned on her flashlight and directed the beam at the corpses that hadn’t animated. None of them was Richie, but several were armed sec-men, their bodies beaten and battered almost beyond recognition. She scooped up a discarded shotgun and a bandolier of ammunition.

  “Doesn’t your new charm bracelet have a sword or something?” Rylee asked.

  “It’s a necklace, not a bracelet,” River said. “And if it does, I don’t know how to use it.”

  She moved to the nearest patient room. It was empty, though the overturned bed and blood-smeared walls were clear indicators it had been occupied just hours before.

  Rylee was almost bouncing with excitement. “Maybe it is like throwing a web, or…or like stretching your arms our really far. Just concentrate!”

  R
iver made a face. “I’m not a superhero, Rye. I don’t even know how it works and I don’t want to. Can we just find Richie and get the hell out of here?”

  Rylee would not be deterred. “You could be, I mean, this is how they get powers, right?”

  River glanced at the undead standing just a few feet away, outside the circle of light, then continued her search. “I don’t know, Rylee, why don’t you ask the zombies waiting to rip our throats out?”

  “They suck as conversationalists,” Rylee said. “Hey, you need to see this.”

  Rylee was standing in front of a patient room. Unlike the others, the door had been closed. Someone…something, had ripped it off the hinges and pushed it aside. It now lay on the floor, crushed like an old soda can.

  River followed Rylee into a room similar to the others save it was somewhat larger. A bank of broken machines lay against the wall, the screens flashing and sputtering in the gloom. The bed was overturned and the curtains, which looked out on a faux Maine landscape painted on the wall, were torn and bloody.

  “Someone wanted out in a hurry,” River said.

  The room also included a small private bathroom with a shower, sink and toilet. There was blood on the vanity, as well as what looked like broken fingernails. None of it was enough to identify who had been in the room, just enough to make her feel sick. Whatever Sentynil had done, it cost the lives of hundreds, many of whom had died horribly.

  “You don’t think Richie was in here, do you?” Rylee asked.

  The thought had crossed River’s mind, but she shook her head. It didn’t feel right.

  “No. Richie got manicures every three weeks, his fingernails have clear polish, the ones in there don’t.”

  By the time they finished their search, the infected were gathered in the hallway just outside the door. They snapped and growled at the light, but didn’t enter. River raised the amulet and they backed away from the glow, their lips pulled back in fear. Or anger.

  “If this thing goes out, we’re screwed,” River muttered.

  “Don’t say that! It might hear you and then we’re really screwed,” Rylee said.