Outer Banks

by Anson Barber

  “What happened?”

  “Bad dream.” I answered.

  “Are you all right?”

  I got up and hugged her tightly, then kissed her. “I think so.”

  The next week it was back to work. We were spending more and more time in the lab instead of what we’d come to call the thinking room.

  She started some experiments and made a few calls to her father to request other materials she needed.

  I was getting quite an education. She liked to explain to me what she was doing, and some of it was actually starting to make sense.

  I was making a sandwich in the kitchen one night when she came in with her familiar instruments of torture. The tourniquet, needle and cotton ball.

  “Can I get another sample from you?” She tilted her head.

  I crossed my arms tightly. “What’s in it for me?” I grinned mischievously.

  “The chance to save the world.” I twisted my mouth to the side, thinking it over. “Hmmm. I don’t know. This is Grade A Texan blood here. I should probably hold out for a better offer.”

  “A better offer?” she repeated incredulously.

  “Something more…personal. Like, I don’t know, making out with me.”

  “We’ll see what we can do.”

  “I do still have that rain check for the begging, you know,” I reminded her.

  “You want me to beg you to make out with me?” she asked amused.

  “Well, what do you know! The begging worked! I’m putty in your hands!” I pulled her shirt up a little and then picked her up so I could kiss her bare stomach. She giggled as I moved up to her neck.

  “Fine, let’s just be quick. I have a lot of work to do and I’m starting to wind down.”

  “Quick?” I chuckled against her shoulder. “I’m from Texas. We don’t do anything quick in Texas.”

  “I thought that was a stereotype.”

  “Stereotypes are based in reality,” I informed her.

  “All right,” she laughed. “I can save the world tomorrow night.”

  We moved into her bedroom. I laid her on the bed and slid in next to her. Once we’d gotten to a certain point, the familiar frown crossed her face.

  “Em,” I said flatly.

  “I wish I could—”

  I kissed her to interrupt her. “I’ve never been more intimate—truly intimate—with any other woman in my life. I’m perfectly—”

  It was she who interrupted me this time, she didn’t seem to believe a man could be happy without sex.

  “The way you look at me I forget that I’m not—” She stopped when she saw my frown and rephrased. “I forget that I’m a Haunt.”

  “I was hoping to kiss you until you forgot your own name, but at least I made you forget something.”

  She laughed and brushed her fingers along my jaw.

  “Seriously. How do you look at me like that, when everyone else…” She trailed off.

  “Emery, you are an amazing, beautiful woman. That’s all I see.”

  She smiled as she pulled me down and kissed me.

  Usually my encounters with women were only about sex and often more of the kind you regretted in the morning. But with Emery I wanted to push back her sleep cycle so it wouldn’t take her from me. Just to spend more time like this with her.

  “It’s almost time, I can feel it weighing me down,” she whispered. “I didn’t save anyone tonight.”

  “There’s always tomorrow.” I said as her eyes closed in sleep.

  I held her while I slept next to her, waking on my own around three-thirty in the afternoon.

  I went to the refrigerator to get some eggs for my afternoon breakfast and realized there was no blood in the refrigerator.

  I moved some things around on the shelves hoping a bag had slid behind something else, but no. I ran back to the lab and checked the little refrigerator there. It was full of petrie dishes, a couple of samples and a Yoo-Hoo, but no blood.

  We were out.

  I called Adam immediately.

  “Yes, Dillon?”

  “Are you coming up here today by any chance?”

  “No, tomorrow, why?”

  “Em’s out of blood.”

  “She is? How? She should have had more than enough.”

  I wondered how too, then I realized she’d gotten carried away with some of her recent experiments that required larger samples to time alien H-cell conversion rates or some such, and had raided the food supply more than once. I also realized she hadn’t eaten yesterday morning. She was going to be hungry when she woke tonight.

  “I’m not going to be able to come up tonight. Not without raising suspicions. I’m in Cincinnati at a conference. I fly back tomorrow morning. Can you get her some? There’s a hospital about an hour south of the cabin.”

  “Okay. She might not need any when she wakes.” This was a lie, but there was no sense in making him worry.

  “Tell her I’ll be there by the time she wakes tomorrow night, I promise.”

  “I will. See you then.” I tapped my leg restlessly.

  “Right.”

  He hung up and I pulled out a map to look for the closest hospital. It was a lot more than an hour away—almost two and a half. I wouldn’t be back to let her out when she woke, and I didn’t want her to panic being locked in her room. I could leave her here with the door unlocked, but what if someone came in? She’d be completely vulnerable.

  I decided to wait until she woke and then I would leave. She would be hungry, but at least she would know food was on the way. I might have to hold out the blood bag to her on a ten foot pole by then, though.

  During my shower I noticed my arms were riddled with needle marks, to the point I almost looked like a heroin addict. They’d been tiny samples, though, barely enough for a test tube. Since the blood at her disposal came from a wide variety of sources, she’d taken to using me as a kind of control group to compare results against.

  I wondered. Why couldn’t I give her a cup or two of my own to get her through tonight when she woke? Ugh, the very idea made me a bit dizzy, but it was the best option.

  After I was dried off and dressed I went to the lab and got the necessary items. I took a breath and ran the alcohol swab over my skin. I snapped the elastic tourniquet around my biceps using my teeth, and then as the needle got to my skin I pulled it away.

  “Come on, Dillon! Don’t be such a baby.”

  I tried again after rolling my shoulders and taking a breath, but I pulled away again. It was a reflex, as if someone else was aiming the needle.

  “She won’t do this for herself and she won’t let you do it once she wakes up. Man up!” I stuck the needle into my vein. “Huh,” I said in surprise as the bag began to fill. I did a pretty good job. It didn’t hurt that bad at all.

  I watched as bright red blood ran through the clear tube to collect in the bag, feeling pretty proud of myself. When the bag was almost half full I loosened the tourniquet and pulled it free. I removed the needle and affixed a bandage with a cotton ball across my arm.

  Emery’s door was already unlocked, but I opened it slightly as I walked to the kitchen. I poured the contents of the bag into a coffee cup and threw the bag in the trash. For once there was no need to heat it up. It was a perfect ninety-eight degrees.

  I set her cup on the table and started some coffee as she emerged from her room. She went into the lab briefly, then came out with a frown, her eyes on the fridge. There was a hint of panic on her face until I pointed to the cup.

  She picked it up and drank it down, skipping any sense of formality. She wasn’t too bad off considering but I knew she wouldn’t want me to stare. I went into the living room and changed the channel to CNN.

  “What the hell is this?” she said, causing me to jump. I ran back into the kitchen. She had a lit
tle bit of blood left on the corner of her mouth.

  “What? What’s wrong?” Maybe it had too much cholesterol from all the bacon and eggs?

  She watched my expression while pointing at the mug. “Where did this come from?”

  “I… Is something wrong with it?”

  “This is your blood, isn’t it?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “It smells like your blood. Also, I was pretty sure I’d finished off the last bag the other day.”

  “You did. Thanks for the heads up on that, by the way. Exactly what did you expect to do when you woke up? And what’s wrong with my blood anyway?”

  “Don’t you think it’s a little sick for me to be drinking your blood?”

  “It’s fresh and relatively healthy. I’ve had all my shots.”

  “Stop joking around. You know what I mean.”

  “I thought you’d be hungry.”

  “I’m starving.” She laid her head on her folded arms and stared at the cup. It was over half full.

  I sat down on the stool next to her and moved the cup away. She made a small sound of protest.

  “You don’t have to finish it if you don’t want to. I can go get you more, but it will be a while before I get back.”

  “I do want it. It smells delicious.” Her voice was muffled by her arms.

  “Then go ahead.”

  “You don’t think this is weird?” She finally looked up at me. “Me, drinking your blood?”

  “I don’t think it’s weird. I knew you would be hungry and I have blood to spare. I’d give you a kidney if you needed it. Are you saying you wouldn’t take my kidney? What the hell is wrong with my kidney? What is it, chopped liver? ’Cause it’s not. It’s a kidney.” I mocked with a grin.

  She rolled her eyes and picked up the cup. I got up to get myself a drink.

  “Mmm. Damn, this is good,” she said after a moment.

  I snickered as I poured my coffee. “Grade A Texan pure,” I reminded her, making her laugh.

  “Thank you, Dillon.”

  “Does it happen to taste like bacon? I’ve been filling up on that stuff lately. Should give it a nice smoky aftertaste.” She thumped me on the arm. “Emery, I’d give you anything,” I said seriously and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t think about it. Just drink.” I let my hand slide down her cheek and she smiled.

  I left her to finish her meal to go back to the living room. I changed the channel, then again and again. Every station seemed to be broadcasting the same scene.

  It took a moment for me to figure out what I was seeing. Then I realized I was trying to block it out.

  “Em?” I said loudly. “You’d better come see this.”

  “Why?” She hurried into the living room.

  “They found another queen.”

  Found was not really the correct word. The queen wasn’t found in a subway in Lower Manhattan. She actually came to the surface that night on her own.

  Worse, she had a small heard of Haunts under her control. The situation had gotten ugly before the military could take her down.

  “Oh, no!” Em gasped as she lowered herself to the edge of the sofa next to me.

  We watched the grainy footage, taken with smartphones and security cameras, over and over. Then the interviews began.

  “There was a Haunt living in that tunnel. Then that big Bug came out of there. Don’t you see? Those Haunts turn into Bugs. They’re dangerous. What if they all turn at the same time on that island?”

  The woman speaking was filthy with wiry gray hair. She looked like a bag lady or a witch. Soon I realized she wasn’t the only person who thought this.

  Next they talked to a teen with enough piercings to get him stuck to a magnet. “There was this Haunt that used to hang out in the tunnel. We called him Ernie, you know, because he looked like the guy from Sesame Street. Wore a striped sweater in the same colors. We’d seen him a few times, stuck to feeding on sewer rats, so we figured, live and let live, you know? What did I care if he was down there? I’m tellin’ ya, that Bug that came out of the subway with the same damn sweater hanging off its back. Ernie turned into that giant Bug. He had to of, man. I know it.”

  “He doesn’t know shit!” I yelled and waved my hand at the screen.

  Emery didn’t say anything. She was looking at her hands as if she’d never seen them before.

  “Em?”

  “What if they’re right?” she asked.

  “They can’t be right. How would a human turn into that?”

  “I turned into this!” she said as she stood.

  “You’re still you. You wouldn’t be able to grow an exoskeleton and fangs, Em.”

  “There’s no way to be certain some metamorphosis isn’t happening in us.”

  “Come on! You’re a doctor. How can you believe this crap?”

  “You only have to look at insects here on earth to see unbelievable transformations happen. Caterpillars into moths, fungal infections that turn ants into zombies—for all I know that could be what causes us to claw our way out of the ground and lose control when we’re hungry. I might not be me, just what’s left of me slowly dying until…”

  She was panicking.

  “Em, calm down. A human being cannot turn into one of them. The mass of those things alone tell me it’s impossible. How could it go from five feet to twenty, or from one hundred pounds to over a ton? Tell me how that could even happen?” I demanded to make her think this through.

  “I don’t know. Maybe…” She shook her head. “All those people.” She started to weep as I wrapped my arms around her.

  “Emery, look at me.” She did. “This is not possible.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “Okay, let’s say it is. Let’s say you will eventually turn into a Bug. What are we going to do about it?” Who thought I’d ever be the voice of reason?

  “You should stay away from me. I should kill myself.”

  “Not going to happen. Too many people counting on you, remember? What are your real options?” I glanced at the hallway, giving her a hint.

  “Finding a cure.”

  “Bingo. You do what you’re best at—finding solutions to problems.”

  With a nod, she headed back to the lab with me following along.

  I was just about ready to doze off when my personal phone rang.

  I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Is this Dillon McAllister?”

  “Yes.” The professionalism in the woman’s voice made me nervous. Was it OBX? Did something happen to Corey?

  “This is Dr. Michaela Arder. We met.”

  “Oh, I remember. Colonel Arder, as I recall.” I said letting out the breath I was holding. I couldn’t forget that night no matter how hard I tried.

  “That’s correct. It was a memorable night. Well, what I remember of it.” She laughed.

  “Yes, it was.” I glanced over at Emery who was trying not to look interested.

  “I assume you’ve seen the news?”

  “The queen in New York.”

  “Correct. If you have a moment, I have a few more follow-up questions from your encounter.” She was attempting to keep this professional despite our rather unprofessional night at the bar. “In light of the situation in New York, we thought it prudent to contact you again.”

  Situation? That was the understatement of the year.

  “Uh, sure.” I hopped down from my stool and went out to the living room so not to disturb Emery.

  “So how are things in…” I heard a paper shuffle. “Olancha?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “I have my ways.” Surely it couldn’t be good to have someone tracking me to Emery.

  “Are you watching me right now from a satellite
or something?”

  “Why? Are you doing something dirty? Maybe I should stop over and join in.” Great, she was flirting with me again, and this time stone sober.

  “You weren’t exactly what I imagined when I thought about Big Brother watching me,” I joked. I was pacing in the living room as the doctor started asking questions. Everything from how fast the queen moved to if I had heard or seen flashes of things while I was near her. Anything unusual.

  “Honestly, the only thing I heard was my blood pumping and the only thing I saw was my life flashing in front of my eyes. I don’t remember much else.”

  “Okay. We had a guy on the subway platform say he felt the queen in his head before she attacked, I wasn’t sure if you had a similar experience. You understand if the Bugs could make psychic contact with uninfected humans as well, it would radically change the nature of their threat.”

  “No, ma’am. Not that I recall.”

  “Maybe you’re too hard-headed.”

  “Maybe he was wearing tinfoil on his.” I laughed as I walked in circles.

  “I figured you would have mentioned it if it had happened to you. We only had that one person report a mental connection. He’s under observation now to see if he has any other side effects from the encounter.”

  “Is there any truth to this talk of a Haunt turning into a Bug?”

  “Nothing conclusive. Eyewitness accounts mean little in these matters. I don’t put a lot of stock in that theory, but at this point anything is possible.” She sighed, all the flirting and humor gone. “We do think these scattered queens were left here dormant on purpose before their retreat. It’s possible the beacons are also monitoring these emergences, like experiments; find out what works before a second wave.”

  “If we find a cure, the Bugs wouldn’t be able to control them even if they did come back,” I pointed out, my voice full of hope and optimism.

  “We have a better chance of finding a way to go back in time than we have of coming up with a cure. I’m sorry, but those people on that island don’t have a chance.” She didn’t say it to be rude, or like she thought they were monsters who should be exterminated. There was even compassion in her tone. That was what scared me the most.

  “Don’t say that!” I only hoped she’d said it because she’d given up, not because they knew it was true. “There are a lot of people working on this, right?” My knuckles were turning white where they clenched the top of the sofa.