Spores

by Ike Hamill

  “Cover him up,” Andrew said.

  Patrice didn’t know what good it would do, but he pulled Jake’s scarf over his face while the man shivered and shook. He wanted to pull the scarf up over Jake’s eyes. The way they were rolled back made him look like he was fresh out of some monster movie. Patrice didn’t want to look at him.

  “What do we do?” Leonard asked. He leaned over.

  “Fuck if I know,” Patrice said.

  “We can’t let him overheat,” Andrew said. “I think. Shit, I don’t know.”

  “We have to keep moving,” Patrice said. “And we have to get him out of here. Can we carry him?”

  Nobody commented on whether they thought it was a good idea. They all seemed resigned to try it regardless. It was something that they could do instead of hovering there, useless.

  Patrice passed the rifle to Leonard and tried to swing one of Jake’s arms over his shoulder. His stiff arm would barely bend, and then it jerked upwards, smashing Patrice in the face.

  “Fuck,” Patrice said. He tightened his grip and started again. With Andrew’s help, he actually managed to get Jake’s body on his shoulders. With the trembling and bucking, he couldn’t get him stabilized. Patrice tried to stand anyway and Jake began to gasp and wheeze.

  “Put him down,” Andrew said. “He can’t breathe.”

  “Yeah.” Patrice said. The two of them managed to lower Jake back to the ground in a flatter spot. With a few more trembles and shakes, Jake’s convulsions slowed.

  “We need a stretcher,” Leonard said. He set the gun bag down so he could take the backpack from his shoulders. “What’s in here?”

  “Some rope,” Patrice said. “Water. Protein bars. Nothing to make a stretcher from.”

  “We can make a hammock from the rope. Is there enough? We’ll get some small trees for poles.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Patrice said. “That could work. Andrew, can you stay here with him? Yell if he gets worse.”

  “Yeah,” Andrew said, nodding like he was trying to shake his head off. Andrew took off his scarf and balled it up to put it under Jake’s head.

  Patrice looked down for one more exhale and then looked to Leonard. The look they shared said it all—shit was getting grim. It might not turn out okay for all four of them. Leonard nodded and they both turned north, to a pocket of small trees. Patrice unsnapped the sheath of his knife. It had a good blade and a crude saw on the back. Leonard led the way.

  The two of them shook a couple of small trees and then proceeded deeper into the woods. Patrice found one that was just the right diameter and springy rather than brittle. He bent it over. Leonard stood on it to provide tension while Patrice sawed at it with the back of his knife. It was slow going and the blade wasn’t meant for wood. Turning it over, he had better luck hacking at the wood with the sharp side.

  “Maybe it’s time to rethink this velcro thing,” Leonard said, keeping his voice low. “The two of us could move fast and call in the cavalry.”

  Between swings, Patrice looked up and eyeballed him.

  “You’re right,” Leonard said with a sigh. “This wind is going to be killer after dark though. It’s already colder than hell.”

  “We’ve had worse,” Patrice said.

  Leonard shrugged and nodded. The trunk was cut about halfway through the two men lifted it enough to start twisting it free.

  “One more good one,” Leonard said. He stalked off deeper into the woods. Patrice took one more glance over his shoulder before following. Andrew was leaning down close to put his ear near Jake’s mouth. A chill ran through Patrice—he wanted to tell Andrew to be careful.

  “Hey, give me a foot, would ya?” Leonard called.

  Patrice went to help his friend.

  * * * * * * *

  (Leonard)

  It took them far too long to free the second tree from its trunk. It was a little smaller than the first one, so it should have been easier. The damn thing was resilient though. Every time Leonard thought that they had cut it enough, no amount of twisting and kicking would break it loose. After a couple of minutes, they had so much time invested that it seemed dumb to abandon it and move on. The knife made quick work of stripping the branches from the trunk and they wedged the skinny end between two other trees in order to break it to a suitable length.

  “Finally,” Patrice said.

  Leonard nodded. He grabbed the second tree and Patrice headed back for the first.

  “We’ll need a couple of cross braces to hold the two poles apart. They don’t have to be particularly strong,” Patrice said.

  “Gotcha,” Leonard said. He was still trying to think of a compelling argument for why they should ditch Andrew and Jake and continue ahead. It seemed obvious that the most important thing they needed to do was to make a call for help. Patrice would never agree, and he had a strong point as well. Leaving Andrew and Jake meant, to some extent, giving up on them. Patrice wasn’t there yet. Leonard had been there ever since Jake had gone down and started convulsing.

  As they navigated back through the trees, Patrice kept glancing at Leonard.

  “I know,” Leonard said.

  “It will all be gravy on the table,” Patrice said.

  “I said I know.”

  “Fuck me sideways,” Patrice said.

  “Huh?”

  It took him a second, but Leonard finally saw, or didn’t see. The path was just ahead through the trees. The backpack and rifle bag were still sitting there on the path. Missing were Andrew and Jake.

  Leonard and Patrice ran forward, stopping once they got to the path and looking east and west. In the direction that eventually led to the trucks, a hill rose, only allowing them to see twenty yards or so. Back towards the cabin, they could see awhile farther. Neither direction gave them any sign of Andrew or Jake.

  “He must have gone back,” Patrice said. “I don’t see any tracks going this way.”

  Leonard didn’t bother to argue. He dropped his pole, cupped his hands around his mouth, and called, “Andrew!” He shouted the name both directions.

  “Let’s head back,” Patrice said. “We can catch them before we get too far.”

  “Andrew!” Leonard called again.

  “Grab our shit. Let’s go.”

  Patrice picked up the rifle bag and slung his tree up onto his shoulder.

  “No. We’re not going back. We’re going to the trucks.”

  “We would see leaves and stuff kicked up if they went this way,” Patrice said, pointing up the hill. “I don’t think they went this way.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Leonard said. “Even if they left us an embossed invitation for an all-you-can-eat pancake supper at the cabin, we’re going to the trucks. We did our best to stick together. Now we’re going to do our best to get out of here alive.”

  It took Patrice a moment, but when he finally locked eyes with Leonard, they were on the same page. Patrice turned uphill.

  “Sticks or no sticks?” Patrice asked as Leonard shouldered the backpack.

  “Sticks until we clear this hill,” Leonard said.

  They headed up. Leonard used his tree like an oversized walking stick.

  The process of moving forward churned up some thoughts in Leonard’s head.

  “Why didn’t he say something?” Leonard asked.

  “Which one?”

  “Either, I guess. There’s no way that Andrew moved him alone. That means that Jake and Andrew both took off, either together or separately. You think that one or both would have at least yelled at us. They had to have been able to hear us cussing and chopping to cut these trees.

  “Maybe Jake took off running and Andrew chased him.”

  “Without a sound?”

  Patrice only shrugged.

  “Andrew!” Leonard shouted as they walked.

  Patrice stopped dead. Before Leonard could ask him why, he heard it too. It was a racking cough in the distance. They both rushed up the hill towards the source of the sound. When they b
egan to crest the hill, Patrice doubled his speed, leaving Leonard behind. Just over the hill, Andrew was on the ground. Patrice reached him and crouched next to him, helping Andrew up to a sitting position.

  “Where is he?” Patrice asked.

  Andrew looked between them, swallowing and pulling his scarf away from his throat. His voice came out strained and hoarse.

  “He bolted,” Andrew said.

  “Which way?”

  Andrew pointed to the west, down the trail towards the trucks.

  Leonard looked at Patrice, raising his eyebrows. Patrice nodded. Leonard tossed aside the tree that he had carried.

  “Fast as we can,” Patrice said. “Let’s catch him before he gets there.”

  When Patrice took off, Leonard didn’t wait to make sure that Andrew was going to keep up.

  * * * * * * *

  (Patrice)

  Patrice leaned against a tree and held onto it while he caught his breath. A few feet away, a rock had been flipped, turned damp-side up by a careless foot. It was hard to believe that Jake was managing to outpace them. Down the trail for at least fifty more yards, there was no other sign of the man. Patrice waited until he saw Leonard’s bobbing head rounding the turn behind him. He gave Leonard a wave and started running again.

  “Wait!” Leonard called.

  Patrice slowed to a walk until Leonard caught up. They settled into a slow jog.

  “You lose Andrew?” Patrice asked.

  “Cramp or something. He’ll be along,” Leonard said.

  Patrice spat out hot acid. It was collecting in the back of his throat. He was pushing himself too hard and he was starting to wonder if he was going to make it all the way to the truck before he seized up.

  He spoke between panting breaths.

  “You should take the keys,” Patrice said.

  “No way. I’m almost maxed out.”

  “Me too.”

  “How much farther?” Leonard asked.

  “I don’t have the foggiest.”

  After a few seconds of shuffling feet and panting breath, Patrice finally asked, “What the fuck are we chasing?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Jake was conked out. People have seizures and then jump up and run a marathon? Does that happen?”

  “How do we know he’s even headed this way?” Leonard asked.

  “I’ve seen some signs,” Patrice said. He explained about the overturned rock and the long scuff mark he had seen in the leaves on the far side of an iced-over puddle.

  “Could have been a deer or something, but okay,” Leonard said.

  “It’s him,” Patrice said. “He has his keys and he’s going to take his truck and then he could go anywhere. We should have tied him up when he seized, you know?”

  “What reason did we have to suspect that he would run off?”

  “We should have known,” Patrice said. “Like it or not, We’re going to have to start taking Marie seriously. If she’s right, then Jake isn’t thinking straight anymore. There’s no telling what he will do.”

  “If we take Marie seriously, then we’re headed the wrong direction,” Leonard said.

  “How so?”

  “She said that the two halves would come together. He shouldn’t be running away.”

  “Huh,” Patrice said. His legs were staring to feel better, like he could speed up again. It seemed better to stick with Leonard though. The woods were too lonely to face by himself. The terrain was beginning to look familiar, but as they rounded the next turn he had to admit that he was wrong. The trees, fallen leaves, and rocks were an endless repeating pattern. They could be anywhere. The only good measure of the time left was the fact that the sun was down below the hill ahead of them. With the seizure and hunting down poles to make a stretcher, they had lost some time. Still, they had to be reasonably close.

  Patrice heard a whine followed by a rumble in the distance.

  He glanced at Leonard—he heard it too.

  “Shit,” Leonard said.

  Patrice kicked his jog up to a sprint.

  “I’m right behind you,” Leonard called.

  * * * * * * *

  (Leonard)

  Leonard saw his friend crest the hill and round the turn just before he heard the crash.

  The muscles in his legs were twitching and his veins felt like they were full of cement, but he forced himself faster. Leonard burst out into the clearing and saw Patrice standing there with his chest heaving.

  “Fuck.” Patrice howled, lowering his head.

  Leonard ran past him, towards the truck. The passenger’s rear quarter panel was smashed in and the truck was half-rolled off the road.

  “We can pull it back on the road with the winch, can’t we?” Leonard said. The right-rear wheel was about a foot off the ground. If it had gone a little farther, the truck might have rolled all the way over. As it was, depending on traction, it almost looked like it could be driven out of the ditch.

  “How are we going to unbend that metal?” Patrice asked, pointing.

  Leonard squinted and saw what he meant. When the truck had been smashed, the metal body had been bent down into the right rear wheel. It would take some serious machinery to free it up to where it could spin again.

  Leonard threw down the pack and thought about the winch. There were some big trees around. Maybe if they got the truck back up to the road, they could use the winch around a tree and pop out the body. It didn’t have to be pretty. All they had to do was bend everything enough to let the wheels turn.

  He started to explain his idea to Patrice.

  His friend only shook his head and waved for him to stop. Patrice pointed to tracks in the dirt.

  “Her frame is bent. He turned his truck around and must have gotten a shitload of speed before he crashed into her.”

  “Well we can try for fuck’s sake.”

  “Yeah,” Patrice said.

  Leonard approached with his hand out. “Keys.”

  Patrice looked him up and down and didn’t move to hand them over.

  “Keys. Listen, I know you like to stand around and think about how shitty everything is, but we don’t have time. We need to get this shit in order and get the fuck out of here, right? We have to get on the other side of Dunn’s Corner before we get any cell reception. One way or the other, this vehicle is our best hope.”

  Finally, Patrice took off his glove and dug in his pocket. He held out the keys.

  “What do you mean one way or the other?”

  “I mean I will cut your truck in half and ride it like a motorized dildo before I spend another minute out here,” Leonard said.

  Patrice smiled as Leonard took the keys from him.

  Starting at the rear, Leonard prepped the truck. The tailpipe had been plowed into a frost heave. Using a rock, clawing at the ground like a cave man, Leonard worked to dig it free until Patrice tapped him on the shoulder with a crowbar. The metal made short work of the digging. Leonard climbed up into the cab and slid down to the driver’s seat to start it up while Patrice played out cable from the winch. In the back seat, Leonard found the bag that held what they needed. The truck idled patiently while the two men set up the cables and straps. When they were finished, the winch cable ran to a tree, through a pulley, and then latched onto the rear of the frame.

  “Think she’ll work?” Leonard asked.

  Patrice shook his head. “Whatever end is least stuck, it’s about to get even less stuck. The other end is going to stay fucked.”

  Leonard could only nod. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the only plan that they had come up with.

  “You want to do the honors?” Leonard asked.

  Patrice shook his head and gestured for Leonard to man the controls.

  “I don’t want to hear what I did wrong,” Patrice said.

  Picking up the switch, Leonard stepped as far away from the truck as the power cable would allow. He thought through the mechanics one more time. The winch would pull, shrinking the t
riangle of cable and, hopefully, pulling the truck back onto the dirt road. Once that was done, they could work out how to straighten the metal that was digging into the rear tire. Leonard’s finger hovered the switch as the seconds passed. A strange feeling told him not to engage the winch. Something was about to happen. He couldn’t begin to figure out what, but something was about to happen. Finally, Leonard looked to Patrice and opened his mouth to say that they shouldn’t do it.

  Patrice wasn’t looking at him. He was looking over Leonard’s shoulder, back to the east.

  Leonard followed his gaze.

  Andrew and the woman, Marie, were standing on the trail.

  “Do it,” Patrice whispered to him. His eyes glanced down at the switch and then back to Leonard’s. “I’ll take care of them.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Leonard asked. Patrice was already moving away, towards Andrew and Marie.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Leonard asked again. He set the winch switch down on the ground and followed Patrice.

  * * * * * * *

  (Patrice)

  Patrice could almost see the gears turning as Leonard contemplated hitting the switch. Between them, Patrice was the impulsive one and Leonard was the one who took his time. Whenever they did something potentially dangerous, Patrice preferred that Leonard pull the final trigger. As he watched Leonard’s indecision, Patrice regretted leaving the winching up to him. In this situation, they needed speed more than caution.

  The impulse to grab the control ran through Patrice’s head, and a second later, he understood what was making him so anxious. They were being watched. Scanning around, his eyes landed on the spies. Andrew and the woman, Marie, were at the end of the cabin trail, watching like mute ghosts.

  “Do it,” Patrice whispered to Leonard. “I’ll take care of them.”