Savage (25 page)

“Yeah, yeah, we're good,” Rich said. He was by the entrance to the office with Mrs. Levesque and her daughter.

Sidney and Snowy walked over to Cody. Her ex looked a little shaken as she offered him a hand up. He hesitated for just a moment but took it, allowing her to help him. Snowy was sniffing the bleeding corpse of the other dog.

“Get away from that, girl,” Sidney said, reaching to pull the dog away. She still didn't know the reason for the strange animal behavior and didn't want to take any chances.

Another police officer, an older, bald-headed man, left the group to approach them. Sidney had no idea who he was but noticed a K-9 patch on the sleeve of his uniform. He passed them to stand above the dead shepherd. Slowly he dropped to his knees and pulled the animal up into his arms.

“They were fine all day,” the officer said, just as much to convince himself as anybody. “And even when things started to . . . to go crazy, they seemed all right so I brought them back here.”

He stroked the dog's blood-speckled fur lovingly, and Sidney could not help but feel her heart break for his loss.

“I was going to put them in their kennels. They liked their kennels, they felt safe there, but then . . .” He paused, and then slowly turned tear-filled eyes toward Sidney. “They weren't themselves,” the policeman said. “They were something else entirely.”

It seemed as though he was looking for some kind of answer, something that would make sense out of the insanity he was—they all were—experiencing.

“I've seen it with other animals today,” Sidney said. “Cats, dogs, raccoons . . . even insects.”

She could see that he was now looking at Snowy.

“Why isn't she . . . ?” he started to ask.

“We don't know,” Sidney said, her protectiveness coming through again. She reached down to pull the dog closer to her. “There has to be a reason, but we just haven't thought of it yet.”

She could sense that the others had joined them, milling about the dead animals, muttering among themselves.

“We thought we'd lost you guys,” Officer Isabel said. “When we came into the office, we found Kennedy dead.” She briefly looked over to the front desk. “And then the dogs attacked. If it wasn't for Donovan here getting us all down to the holding cells, it would have been a massacre.”

“Sidney?” a voice called out, and Sidney turned to see a pajama-clad Pam stagger over.

“Oh my God, Pam . . . are you all right?”

Her coworker seemed to consider the question for a moment, then rushed to Sidney, throwing her arms around the girl. “No, no, I'm not all right at all . . . nothing is all right.” She sobbed into Sidney's shoulder, then sniffled loudly and pulled away.

“Sorry,” she said, wiping a hand over her face. “Been holding it together most of the night, and just couldn't do it anymore.”

“It's okay,” Sidney said, rubbing her arm.

“No, it's not, Sid,” Pam said, shaking her head. “It's horrible . . . from what I've seen, all the animals have lost their shit. I barely got out of my house alive. Fribble . . .” She stopped, and her eyes began to fill with tears again.

“I know,” Sidney said. “It's bad . . . I know.”

“He attacked me,” Pam continued in a trembling voice. “I think . . . I think that he . . .” She fell silent, obviously remembering the horror that she'd experienced. “I think he was actually trying to kill me.”

She pulled the collar of her pajama top down to reveal the deep scratches and bite marks in her neck and shoulder.

“We should clean those before they get infected,” Sidney said, stepping closer for a look.

“Yeah.” Pam shrugged, pulling the collar of her pajamas back over the wounds. “What's going on out there, Sid?” she asked. “What could possibly be doing this?”

Sidney looked around to where she'd dropped the trash bag with the raccoon inside. It was over by the wall, just inside the office space.

“I don't know,” she answered her friend. “But if anybody can figure it out—”

“Listen up, people,” Officer Kole suddenly spoke up. The man was favoring his arm, and Sidney could see where blood had dripped down beneath his shirt to the back of his hand. “I think the situation here is pretty much safe,” he said with authority. “We'll hole up here until we can find out what the hell is going on, and what to do about it.”

“Officer,” Sidney said. “I need to get to Doc Martin.”

“I don't think it's wise for anybody to be out there and to—”

“No,” she interrupted as she strode across the room and picked up the green trash bag, holding it up. “I need to get this specimen to Doc Martin. If there's anyone on this island who can figure out what's happening, it's her.”

The room was silent, and Sidney could feel everyone's eyes on her, waiting to see how this would play out.

“I understand where you're coming from with this,” Officer Kole said, walking slowly toward her. “But I can't allow any of my officers—”

“I don't need any of your officers,” she blurted out, not really thinking through her answer, but now that it had left her mouth she was fine with it—a little scared, but fine with it.

The man made a face that said he was either in pain or very, very annoyed with her.

“I can't in all good conscience allow you to go out in . . . that alone.” He pointed to the window, where rain spattered the glass as if someone was holding a hose on the panes.

“She wouldn't be going alone,” Cody said, moving closer to her.

Rich cleared his voice nervously and stepped forward as well. “Yeah, she wouldn't be alone,” he agreed.

Officer Kole studied them intently. “You've seen what it's like out there,” he said. “You three will be risking your lives.”

“Four,” Officer Isabel corrected.

“Excuse me?” Kole said, gazing at her incredulously.

“Four of us will be going,” she said firmly.

“I need you here.”

“And I understand where you're coming from, but if Doc Martin can help figure this out, someone has to get to her.”

Kole continued to stare at his partner as if searching for some crack in her logic. “I trust your judgment,” he finally said. “Don't necessarily agree with it, but I trust it.” Kole turned his eyes toward Sidney and her friends. “Let's just hope Doc Martin is worth the effort.

The silence that followed was broken by the noise from Sidney's stomach. She placed a hand upon her empty belly and tried to ignore it.

“Maybe you should all have something to eat before you head out,” Kole said. “I've got the keys to the vending machines. Won't be all that nutritious, but at least it'll take the edge off.”

“Thanks,” Sidney said, still feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Can't go out into the end of the world on an empty stomach,” Rich said, and all eyes turned to him.

“Oh, did I say that out loud?”

Sidney smiled weakly at that, as did Cody, a scared part of her now wondering if he just might be right.

The vessel that had once been Ronald Berthold—man, husband, certified public accountant—stumbled down the rain-swept streets of Benediction as more vessels of varying sizes and shapes swarmed around him.

Searching.

He—
they
—had a purpose, and they would carry out that purpose no matter the cost.

The former Ronald Berthold paused in the center of the street, craning his neck, seeking out the sound that had drawn it and the others in this direction.

There, above the noise of the storm—the hum of a machine.

Focusing its senses upon the sound, the human vessel began to walk again. The other multitude of vessels, hearing it now as well, followed.

Drawn toward the sound.

Where there was sound, there would be life.

After cleaning up a bit in the restroom, Cody sat as far away from the others as he could, gnawing on a stale granola bar.

Have to keep the strength up,
he thought with sarcasm as he washed the dry snack down with a gulp of bottled water.

He couldn't get his father out of his head.

Over and over the scene in the marina parking lot played out in his head, his dad sacrificing himself to make sure that everyone else lived.

The image of his father's face, blood from the deep wounds in his scalp cascading over his shocked features, had burned itself onto Cody's brain, and no matter how hard he tried to forget, it always was there.

With the sickening vision came the guilt. His father had died before his eyes, and he hadn't done anything to stop it.

“Hey,” said a voice softly. He knew who it was and didn't want to look.

“Hey,” he answered.

“You okay?” Sidney asked.

He wanted to tell her to leave him alone, to go away, remembering that she was the one who had held him back. If it wasn't for her . . .

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just really tired. Trying to get some rest before . . .”

She took a seat on the floor beside him, and he heard the rustling of a wrapper as she prepared to eat something. He ignored her, taking another bite of his granola bar.

“Granola,” she said. “Probably a better idea than chocolate, but I've always been weak.”

He didn't respond, just chewed slowly, like a cow chewing its cud. He wanted to be mad at her. Not only had she broken his heart, she'd kept him from saving his father's life. He wanted to bundle it all together into one great big seething ball of hurt and rage, but . . .

He couldn't do it.

Deep down, he knew that Sidney had saved
his
life. If he'd gone out there to help his father, he would have died as well.

Cody took a long swig of water and looked at her. She had cleaned the dried blood from her face too.

“What?” she asked, a piece of chocolate in her mouth. “I've already told you I'm weak.”

“You're not weak,” he said, shaking his head. “Well, maybe a little.”

She looked at him, surprised by his attempt at a joke. Then she leaned into his shoulder. “I'm really sorry about your dad,” she said.

“Me too,” he answered, trying to keep his emotions in check.

They continued to eat in silence.

“He didn't hate you, you know,” Cody said after a moment.

Sidney looked at him. “Really? Could have fooled me.”

“It wasn't hate at all,” Cody explained. “I think it was more like . . . jealousy.”

“He was jealous of me? How?”

Cody shrugged as he munched on another square of granola.

“I think he knew how smart you are, and how much I admired that about you. How I would listen to you”—Cody shrugged— “and not really listen to him all that much.”

“I would never have guessed that,” she said, breaking off a piece of chocolate and putting it in her mouth.

“It's not like you could have,” Cody told her. “He kept a lot of stuff to himself, but I could see it, how he acted whenever I talked about you.”

She unscrewed the cap on her own bottle of water and took a long swallow. “Now I feel really bad.”

“Why?” Cody asked. “I just thought you'd like to know he didn't hate you.”

“I guess it is good to know,” Sidney agreed.

“Anyway, it's all good,” Cody said with finality, finishing his granola bar and crinkling up the wrapper, wishing he could believe his own words.

Officer Riley Donovan stroked the head of his dog Scarlett and then of her brother, Samson.

He had carried their bodies down to the station garage and was kneeling between the two.

He told himself that he wouldn't cry, but he felt the barriers he'd erected start to crumble as emotion welled up inside of him and the tears began.

He'd loved these dogs, and he was certain that they'd loved him. He knew that they'd had no control over their actions. What he'd seen in the office were not his dedicated, loving, and hardworking partners. They had been replaced by something else.

Something cold, calculating, and monstrous.

Donovan couldn't take his eyes from the pair of German shepherds. He could tell himself that they were only sleeping, but he knew the truth, and it was like a knife to the heart. Finally he stood and threw an old comforter he'd found in a supply closet over them, watching as it settled across their unmoving bodies.

He sniffled once, then took a deep breath and turned away from the dogs.
Might as well check the generator before I go back up,
he thought, walking toward the chain-link enclosure where the generator rumbled.

Stepping inside the enclosure, he checked the gas gauge and saw that the tank was half full. They still had a few hours left. Satisfied, Donovan left the enclosure, shut the gate, and was ready to leave the garage area when he heard a faint bump. He turned toward the closed garage door, where he saw the profile of a man walk past the long horizontal window.

He quickly walked toward the door.

“Hello?” he called out.

The man's face appeared in the window again, followed by a single bang.

“Holy crap,” Donovan said. “Hold on! I'll raise the door enough for you to crawl under,” he hollered to the stranger.

Again there was the single thump of a fist hitting the metal door.

“Get ready.” Donovan hit the button on the side of the garage door, and it began to rise with a whine and the clanking of gears.

A flow of insects immediately scuttled inside.

“Jesus!” Donovan cried, frantically stomping on the spiders, centipedes, and beetles that washed in like water. “Hey, buddy, hurry it up!” he shouted.

The man suddenly appeared, trying to duck beneath the door. Donovan grabbed his arm and pulled him in. The man stumbled to the floor, and the officer left him there while he darted over to the controls and hit the button to shut the door.