The Lost Level (18 page)

“What is it?” I panted, out of breath. “Kasheena? Did you find
some sign of her?”

Bloop was crouched down on his haunches, studying the ground
around the campsite. He motioned me over, and I knelt beside him. He made sure
that he had my attention, and then pointed at the dead reptilians. Then, he
drew four lines in the dirt with the claw of his index finger.

“Four,” I said.

“Bloop,” he agreed.

He then drew nine more lines and swept his hand toward the
forest. After a moment, I realized what he was trying to communicate. There had
been thirteen attackers altogether. Kasheena had managed to kill four of them,
but the other nine had captured her and stolen our gear. He pointed at the nine
lines again and once more gestured into the forest. Then, he waved goodbye.

“Is she alive? Can you track them?”

I gestured with my hands, and he must have understood me, because
he grunted urgently and pointed into the forest.

“Then, come on,” I said, standing. “Let’s go. They’ve already got
a head start.”

Snorting, Bloop beckoned at me to follow him.

“When we find them,” I said as we plunged into the undergrowth, “I
intend to exterminate every single one of these motherfuckers once and for all.”

“Bloop!”

“My sentiments exactly, buddy. Let’s do this.”

BLOOP TOOK THE
LEAD, TRACKING
the Anunnaki through the forest. He did this partly by
scent and partly by subtle signs on the ground—half a footprint here and a
broken twig or bent leaf there. We made good time, despite our injuries and
exhaustion. It helped that we were no longer burdened with equipment, armor, or
weapons. Bloop had given me one of his swords, and I carried that, along with
my dagger. He clutched the other in one hand, using it occasionally to hack at
branches or vines or other impediments. I think he did this more out of
frustration and restlessness than anything else. I felt the same way. I wished
for my .45, but enraged as I was, I would have been just as willing to confront
Kasheena’s captors unarmed and tear them apart with my bare hands. At that
moment, I was certain of my ability to do it.

We pressed on without stopping to rest, heedless of our physical
condition. The forest was quiet. I took that to be a sign of the Anunnaki’s
recent passage, but I suppose it could have been from our presence, as well.
Occasionally, Bloop would pause and listen for a moment or sniff the air. Then,
he would bound ahead again. At times, I had to struggle to keep up with him. I
grew frustrated with his speed. I’m certain he was equally frustrated with
mine. Had I not been with him, he could have swung through the trees and made
better time.

It is hard for me to say how far we ran. I estimate we’d gone at
least two or three miles when we heard the gunshot—just a single blast and
muffled by distance, but still unmistakable. That brought us both to a halt. We
stood there, panting, and waited for the sound to be repeated, but no more
shots were forthcoming. After a minute, Bloop started off again, and I
followed, hoping he’d been able to determine which direction the shot had come
from. I wondered what it had meant. Could Kasheena have managed to escape her
captors and fired off a round with my pistol, or perhaps her own? It didn’t
seem likely. The Anunnaki would almost have certainly bound her as before, and
I had to assume our weapons would have been safely stored on their person. My
mind then turned to the possibility that it had been the snake men shooting at
Kasheena, perhaps as she attempted to escape. There was also the possibility
that the gunshot had nothing to do with her and was simply leading us astray.

Minutes ticked by. Maybe more than minutes. I was still musing
over the origin of the pistol shot, however, when we stumbled across it for
ourselves.

There was a man ahead of us with his back against a tree trunk
and his legs sprawled out on the ground before him. He wore dirty, torn
dungarees tucked into scuffed boots and the frayed remains of a shirt. His
short brown hair was slick with sweat, and he was breathing heavy, mouth
hanging open. He was obviously injured, with deep puncture marks all over his
chest and abdomen, along with an even more grievous gash in his right forearm.
Judging by the sheer number of wounds, I guessed his injuries to be fatal.

He didn’t seem to be aware of us until we were almost upon him.
When he finally saw us, the wounded man was visibly startled. I saw fear flash
across his face, but he was obviously too weak to flee.

“My Lord,” he gasped.

“It’s okay,” I said, stepping in front of Bloop. “We’re not going
to hurt you.”

“Did….” He paused, shuddering as he drew breath. Blood trickled
from the corner of his mouth. His accent marked him as not only an American,
but a southerner. “Did y’all come through the canyon, too? Don’t know how you…how
you got past them things, but you’d better be careful. Their younger cousins
are about.”

“We came from that way.” I pointed. “My name is Aaron Pace. This
is my friend, Bloop.”

“He ain’t from around here,” the man said. “Reckon I’m right
about that.”

“No,” I replied. “None of us are.”

The man tried to grin, but it looked more like a grimace. He
licked his lips and then spoke again.

“You ain’t hallucinations, are you?”

“No, friend. We’re real enough.”

“Figured as much. Can smell you both. Just thought maybe you
might be, on account of your friend there.”

“Sorry. And again, he may look scary, but I assure you, he means
you no harm.”

“Y’all got any water?”

I shook my head.

“Just my luck,” he moaned. “I should have just let them lizards
eat me when they got Terry and the Reverend back at the watering hole. At least
then I’d have died in the water. Had me a last drink.”

I knelt beside him and studied his wounds more closely. The
punctures in his chest and stomach appeared to have been made by spears or
pikes, but the two in his forearm were neater and more symmetrical, like a
bite. The skin around those two holes was puffy and pale, and thin red lines
ran out from the punctures, creeping up and down his arm.

“Snake bite,” he muttered. “I would have beaten the sons of
bitches if not for that.”

My breath caught in my throat. “What kind of snake?”

“The kind that…walks on two legs. Big as a full–grown man. Never
seen anything like them in my life. Course, I reckon that’s been par for the
course, last few days, what with the dead walking around eating folks and such.”

I ignored this for a moment and focused on my more pressing
concern. “This snake man? There was more than one?”

He nodded, then coughed. A bubble of blood burst from his lips.

“Did they have a girl with them?”

He nodded again, and my heart began to hammer.

“Yeah,” he said. “They did. It was on account of her that I got
bit in the first place. Bunch of them come marching through here just a bit
ago. Had a girl with them.”

“How many?”

“Just the one girl. Pretty little thing, but fierce, I reckon.”

“No, how many snake men?”

“I make it nine. Took a shot at one, but I missed. I was down to
my last bullet. Reckon if I’d had more, I could have killed them all real
quick.”

I looked up at Bloop, and he tilted his head, his expression
quizzical. I nodded in affirmation and held up nine fingers. Then, I turned
back to the injured man.

“Which way did they go?”

He tried to raise his hand and point, but then he groaned in pain
and simply nodded instead.

“That way. I reckon you know the girl. Might ease your mind to
know she didn’t look hurt or nothing, least when I saw her. If anything, she
looked mad enough to spit.”

“That bite on your arm looks infected,” I said. “I’m guessing
poison.”

“I reckon so. They got me during the fight. I got bit by a
copperhead once, a long time ago, and it felt the same way. Except this might
be worse. I reckon it has to be, on account of they left me alive. Why do that,
unless they knew I was poisoned and would die anyway? Just wish I wasn’t so
thirsty.”

“I’m sorry. I wish we had something for you to drink.”

“That’s okay, friend. And I don’t figure either one of you for a
doctor.”

“We can’t do anything for you,” I admitted. “I’d tie a tourniquet
around your arm, but I’ve nothing to use. And our friend, the girl that’s with
them….”

“I understand. She’s still alive. I ain’t, at least for much
longer. But would you…could you stay with me until…?”

I hesitated. He was beyond our aid, and every moment we delayed
meant Kasheena and the Anunnaki were farther away from us. The fact that they’d
left him here to die slowly, rather than simply finishing him off indicated
that they were moving quickly. If we lost their trail, we may never find her
again. I couldn’t leave her resigned to that fate. But the cowboy was dying and
scared and alone. I remembered the fear I’d felt upon my arrival in the Lost
Level, and then, against my better judgment, I agreed to stay. I simply did not
have it in me to deny companionship to someone who was dying.

“Okay. We’ll sit with you awhile.”

He must have seen something in my expression or heard the regret
in my voice.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Like I said…I don’t reckon it’ll be much
longer. I can feel that…stuff burning in my veins, getting closer…to my heart.
If it don’t get me, the spears they stuck between my ribs surely will. Pretty
sure something’s grinding together inside of me.”

“No worries.”

“Tell you what…if I take too long, y’all can finish me
yourselves. Deal?”

Bloop grunted, impatient, and then swatted at a mosquito.

“Where are you from, friend?” I asked. “And what’s your name? We’ll
do our best to leave a marker behind for you.”

I had already decided not to ask him
when
he was from.
Judging by the things he’d said so far, it didn’t appear that the man knew the
full extent of our circumstances or location, and I didn’t see any sense in
confusing him with explanations of time travel and inter–dimensional journeys.

“My name’s Deke,” he said. “I’m originally from a little town
back in West Virginia, name of Brinkley Springs. But Hogan and I…Hogan’s my
partner…he and I come out here to Red Creek a little over a month ago. We’d
pooled our money and bought quite a stand of timber. Planned on opening
ourselves up a sawmill. But then that disease come along.”

“Disease?” It occurred to me that perhaps Deke’s coughing and
wheezing had less to do with his wounds and more to do with some illness. I
then became aware of just how closely I was crouched next to him.

“Hamelin’s Revenge,” he said. “You know? That disease from the
Indian reservation back east?”

I shook my head.

“Well, if that don’t beat all.” Deke sighed, and more blood
bubbled up from between his lips. “I must be farther from Red Creek and the
canyon entrance than I thought. News travels slow out here.”

“This disease,” I gently prodded. “Is it contagious?”

“Only if you get bit by one of them dead things or get their
blood or spit and such on you. Don’t you worry none, Mister Pace. I ain’t sick.”

“Tell me more about this disease.”

“Well…they say it started with rats. They overran an Indian
reservation back east, but they weren’t no ordinary rats. They were dead.”

“You mean zombies?”

“I mean dead. But they still moved and bit like they were alive.
They attacked the Indians, and those who got bit became sick and died. Then,
just like the rats, they came back, too. And they came back hungry. Fella came
straggling into Red Creek, sick from the disease. He told the town doctor all
about it before he died. The Doc got some of the town bigwigs together, and
while they were having a meeting about it in the back of his office, the dead
man got back up and ate them. Then they came back, too. It spread through town,
quick. The dead attacked the living—and not just dead people, either. No, sir.
I saw dead horses, dogs, cats, coyotes and such.”

Bloop grumbled, once more signaling his impatience and confusion
over our delay. I motioned at him to be patient. I don’t know if he understood
me or not, but he wandered over to a nearby tree and relieved himself all over
the base of the trunk. The pungent reek of urine was strong enough that both
Deke and I winced.

“What is he?” Deke asked. “He like your pet or something?”

“He’s a friend. I’m not sure what his origin is, or where he
comes from, but I know that I can count on him.”

“That’s…” Deke broke off into a fit of coughing. I tried to sit
him up, but he waved me away. When he was finished, he resumed talking.

“That’s a good kind of friend to have. Hogan and me were like
that. I didn’t know any of the other folks in our party until we escaped town
together. It was me, Hogan, Leppo, the Reverend, Jorge, Terry, and Janelle. We
rode off into the desert…Leppo knew the terrain, so we were letting him lead
us, but he died of heatstroke on the second day. By then, the dead had picked
up our trail and started chasing after us. We got tired and thirsty, but they
didn’t. After a few days, they caught up to us. We rode for some hills, trying
to escape a flock of dead birds. What we found was a canyon…I’ll never forget
that, to be sure. The mouth of it looked just like an archway. It was the
damnedest thing. Almost like somebody had made it…. We headed in and come out
in the middle of a huge valley that seemed much bigger than the canyon itself.
The terrain was different, too. Instead of desert or scrubland, it was a
forest. And not forests like they got out here in this part of the country. No,
sir. Hogan said it reminded him of the ones back in Virginia…. At first I
thought it might all be a mirage, but even the air smelled different, and the
trees were real enough to touch. We didn’t…think too much of it at the time, on
account of we found that watering hole I mentioned earlier.”