Love Bug (11 page)

-26-

A dull
thrum-thrum-thrum
radiated through Remmy’s head in waves. His eyes were swollen, but he forced them to open to half slits. Had his entire body not been racked with pain, he would have believed that he was dead, but there was no way he was dead, not when he felt this awful.

Golden rays of sun filtered in through a rusted corrugated metal roof. Large motes of dust danced in the dappled sunlight, but Remmy shared none of their lightness or mirth. The Reds had taken him somewhere, but where? Why hadn’t they killed him? Remmy pondered these questions
, knowing that he was no closer to providing an answer than he was to getting out of this disgusting shack that served as his prison.

Willing the pain out of his hea
d, Remmy tried to clear his thoughts and form some idea, some plan. There was very little in the shack. It was really nothing more than a small wooden square cobbled together out of discarded bits of wood, pallets mostly, and a rusted sheet of metal for the roof. No windows and one door left Remmy with very few options. The dirt floor was hard packed, but maybe he could dig his way under a wall. At least the Reds had left his arms and legs untied. They weren’t expecting Remmy to escape.

Remmy cast glances into the murky corners of the shack. T
hree were empty. One held a rumpled pile of old clothes. Remmy figured someone had used it as bedding. His body screaming in protest, Remmy forced himself up from the dirt floor and shuffled over to inspect the tangled pile of rags. Maybe, just maybe, there was something he could use. Remmy grabbed the corner of what looked to have once been a large flannel shirt and tugged. The pile resisted for a second, as if it were glued to the floor, but then came loose with a sound of kindling tumbling to the floor.

“What the hell?” Remmy muttered. Why would there be a bunch of sticks wrapped in old clothes? His sore brain slowly pieced together the image displayed in front of him
in the dim light. The clothes were stuck to the ground, a dried puddle of gore and bits of leathery flesh holding them in place. It was bones. Remmy was holding the remains of the last occupant of his prison cell.

“Gross,” Remmy gagged as he backed away from the remains.

The door of the shack shook as someone removed the lock and pulled the door open. It stuck, catching the jamb, but was yanked open with incredible force. Remmy was shocked to see a young girl standing in the doorway, framed in the golden hues of the day’s dying sun.

“Sit down,” the girl said, her voice sounded muddled,
as if she had to struggle to force out the words.

Remmy thought about attacking her, making a run for it, but the Reds never would have allowed her in here unless others were outside. He might make it past the girl, but that would be it. His victory and life would both be short lived. Left with few other options, Remmy put his back against the wall and slid down onto the hard packed dirt floor.

“You’re from the Emo camp in the woods, right? The one outside of the Stele?” the girl asked. Her words were a little more formed, as if she were regaining her ability to speak.

“I’m not telling you anything,” Remmy snapped. Having a conversation with a Red was strange, but Remmy wasn’t going to tell them anything. There was no way he was going to give the Reds even the slightest idea where his parents and Cora were. He’d die to protect them and figured he probably would have to.

“I’m not really asking,” the girl chuckled. “The question was, um, what’s the word?” She paused and then beamed, “Rhetorical! That’s it! It was a rhetorical question.” She took a few more steps into the shack. Remmy could see a collection of small, wicked looking blades hanging around her waist from a thick leather belt. Small skulls, some from animals, some from children, hung between the blades like trophies.

“Rhetorical?” Remmy laughed in spite of his fear. “
That’s a big word for a Red. Honestly, I’m amazed you can string together a sentence, let alone use dictionary words. I thought you Reds were supposed to be raving idiots. No offense, of course.”

The girl
let out a chortled laugh. Both her words and laughter sounded garbled, as if it formed in her throat, but was cut to pieces in her mouth. “Yes, well that is what we were taught to think, isn’t?”

“How the hell do you know what I was
taught, you troll?” Remmy growled. The fact that the Red used ‘we’ instead of ‘you’ sent acidic knots roiling through Remmy’s stomach. The back of this throat burned and he struggled to swallow.

Another mangled string of laughter spilled from the girl’s mouth. “Because I was taught it as well. Don’t you remember sitting in class next to me? How we used to sneak off at our lunch break to go walk in the fields?
Surely, you remember that, Remmy, don’t you?”

Hearing his name caused the fear in
Remmy’s gut to blossom with malignant force, toxic vines twisted and wrapped around his innards. The disgusting shack appeared to shift, like a boat gently lolling on waves. “Who…who are you?” Remmy stuttered, but the answer was already pressing down upon him.

“Come
on now, Remmy,” the girl said slowly as she sat down across from him. “I know it’s been a while, but you’re going to tell me that you don’t recognize your best friend, Jessica? I thought we were better friends than that, Remmy. Honestly, I think my feelings are a little hurt.”

“Jessica?” Remmy asked. “How? Your family was killed. You were dead.”

“Dead?” Jessica grinned, revealing savagely pointed teeth. “No, not exactly.”

“But how?” Remmy asked, astonished that somewhere inside of this monster was his old friend
. She was wild looking, covered in red markings and definitely dirtier than the last time he had seen her, but he couldn’t deny that this was Jessica.

“We’ll get to that,” Jessica smiled. “In fact
, you’ll find out first hand.”

“What happened to you? To your teeth?” Remmy asked, choosing to ignore Jessica’s implied threat. He needed to grab whatever bits of information he could. Keeping Jessica talking was the only chance Remmy had.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Jessica smiled as she tilted her head back, opened her mouth and ran her tongue along the wicked little daggers that filled her mouth.

Remmy fought the urge to gasp as he saw the extra row of pointed teeth in Jessica’s mouth. Thoughts of the sharks he had seen in his schoolbooks filled Remmy’s head. He figured that the connection probably wasn’t too far off.

“Stare if you want to,” Jessica grinned. “I know what you’re thinking. I thought it too when I was first brought here. How could someone file their teeth to look like that? How could they bear the pain? But that’s the best part, Remmy. You don’t have to, it just happens after a while. Even better, you have an endless supply for the Tooth Fairy.” Jessica laughed, she used the point of her knife to flick the extra row of teeth in her mouth. “One falls out and another pops into place. It’s great.”

“No
, it’s not,” Remmy protested, “it’s awful. Jessica, how could you let this happen to you?”

“Let it?” Jessica chuckled. “Remmy
, it just happens. There’s no more choice in this than there is your hair growing. It’s natural. It’s the evolution of the virus, of the Love Bug.” Jessica paused to laugh again. “My God, remember when we used to call it that? Who would have guessed this is what it does to someone if they survive the first phase.”

“First phase?” Remmy repeated. “What are you talking about?”

“The whole screaming crazy part,” Jessica answered, “that’s just the first phase of infection. We were wrong when we thought that was how the virus left someone. Problem was that most people were too crazy to survive that part, so no one ever saw what was next, but we’ve fixed that. And Remmy, let me tell you, if you survive the first part, it’s amazing. Just imagine never being afraid. Never having to worry again.”

“What do you
mean, if I survive?” Remmy spat. “I’m not like you. I’ll never be like that.”

“Your choice,” Jessica shrugged as she got up from the floor. “But tomorrow you have a choice to
make, Remmy, and I hope you make the right one. The smart one.”

“Choice?” Remmy growled. “What kind of choice could I possibly have?”

“Fight or food,” Jessica grinned. “It’s up to you, because you’re going to do one or be the other.”

-27-

Looking for Cora’s filthy Emo boyfriend was about the last thing in the world that Xander wanted to do. But he couldn’t pass up a chance to get out of the camp, even if it meant pretending to look for Remmy. Why try to find the moron anyway? He had chosen to die and for what? To save Cora? She was a lost cause and Remmy surely could have outrun her. Xander would have. It was simple math. The faster one got to live, the slower one distracts the Reds.

It
didn’t matter. Remmy was probably dead or dying and Cora was having a mental breakdown. Xander was free to roam around, so all was right with the world as far as he was concerned. Left in the tent with nothing to do besides plan, Xander kept returning to one idea – the limo. The Emos had buried his mother and the ERC officer, but there was nothing done with the limo. Xander was sure that it was still in the field, slowly rusting in the same spot it had tumbled to a stop.

Somewhere behind him
, Xander could hear the steps of an Emo guard, but they were distracted, weakened by emotion and concern. Xander shared none of these shortcomings, and focused on getting to the wrecked limo with the single mindedness afforded him through the small device implanted at the base of his neck.

Ducking into a thicket
, Xander waited for the guard to pass. The thorns bit into his skin, but he remained still. Small rubies welled on the exposed skin of Xander’s arms and legs before snaking downward in crooked zigzags. The guard continued down the path, eyes watchful for any sign of Remmy, but blind to Xander.

“So stupid,” Xander grinned as he doubled back the way he had come. He would get to the limo, find what he needed and be back at the camp before anyone realized what was going on.

The sun sank lower in the sky, painting the woods in purpled shadows. It was strange, something Xander had never experienced. Sure, he had been in the woods before, but that was in the perfectly manicured parks scattered throughout the Stele. Those were little more than paved paths flanked by decorative trees with colorful blossoms. Where Xander currently found himself had been left to grow unfettered by the meddling hand of man for centuries. Trees, as wide as three men, closed in on him. Anything could be hiding behind those trunks or in those darkening shadows.  Xander had all of these thoughts, but none of the emotions to feel the fear. Rather, he simply accepted them as fact. His Em-Pak merrily chirped away as he picked his way closer to the scene of his mother’s death.

“Finally,” Xander said, having grown weary of the repetitive scenery of the woods. The twisted remains of the limo lay before
him, a slight patina of rust on the upturned underside trying desperately to absorb the dying rays of the setting sun.

Broken glass crunched beneath Xander’s shoes as he looked over the crash. It really was amazing that anyone had survived, let alone both Cora and himself, but Xander pushed these thoughts aside, allowing them to be cleansed by his Em-Pak. He was here for a purpose, a reason.

Climbing through the shattered window, Xander stopped to marvel at the amount of blood that had dried on the inside of the vehicle. It really must have been something to see, those disgusting Reds gunned down by a brave ERC officer. Xander still refused to believe Cora’s ridiculous story about Remmy killing the Reds with a rock.

The limo had rolled over onto its roof, setting everything upside down. Xander cast a quick glance into the rear area where he had ridden, but saw nothing of value, just the litter of his mother and sister; surely, nothing worth taking with him. But the dashboard was a different story. There was most definitely something worth finding there.

Xander dropped to a squat on his knees, ignoring the pain that jabbed at him as he knelt on bits of broken safety glass. Grabbing the glove box, Xander yanked with all his might, but it refused to open. His Em-Pak beeped angrily.

“Come on,” Xander grunted as he pressed his foot against the dash for leverage. With one final
growl, he tore open the jammed glove box, but his foot shot sideways, colliding with the steering wheel. Xander felt his heart stop as a blaring blast of the car horn filled the field.

“Damn it,” Xander cried and began feverishly sorting through the contents of the opened compartment. “Yes!” He grabbed the small r
adio, no bigger than a deck of cards. He remembered when his father had told him that all ERC vehicles were equipped with an emergency radio. It could be used to send an SOS signal or to radio the nearest ERC office, but he would need to get somewhere away from the camp, away from the forest and anything else that might muddy the signal. Xander’s mind began to work overtime, trying to fit together the pieces of his plan. He was only going to have one chance to do this.

“Hey kid!” the guard yelled. “What the hell are you doing in there?”
He pointed with the barrel of his rifle.

“Not as stupid as I thought,” Xander smirked
and slipped the radio into his sock before pulling his pant leg back into place. He crawled out of the wrecked limo. “Remmy knew where this was. I thought he might have gone here to hide. Seemed like a good place. Don’t you think?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” the guard agreed, “but you shouldn’t be running off like that. There could still be Reds around here.”

“Oh,” Xander exclaimed, feigning the concern of which he was incapable. “We should probably get back to the camp then, shouldn’t we?”

“Let’s go,” the guard snapped. “And keep your eyes peeled on the way back for any sign of Remmy or
the Reds, okay?”

“Of course,” Xander smiled, his voice sy
rupy and sweet. These Emos were exactly as stupid as he thought.