The Remedy (2 page)

He looked at the bear’s head, bracing himself for the rifle’s booming report, when Red screamed. Dale tore his gaze away from the bear over to Red, to see him clutching at his leg, blood spurting from between his fingers like oil from a freshly drilled well. A serrated metallic disc protruded from the hemorrhaging wound, embedded in Red’s leg like the knife he’d chucked at Dale’s firewood.

Someone had thrown the circular saw blade and hit Red square in the thigh.

“Red!” Dale swiped at the bushes, desperately trying to find the quickest route to his brother-in-law. But just as he shouted, Red fired blindly into the woods, the gun blast drowning out Dale’s voice.

Dale was almost free of the dense undergrowth when he glanced over at the direction of the black bear…and almost choked.

The “bear” was getting to its feet—its two
human
feet. Human feet attached to a gigantic human body. Now towering above the blackberry bushes that had previously concealed him, it was clear that the gargantuan man was wearing a bear head as a mask. He lifted something long and black and pointed it toward Red. Distracted with pain and panic, Red did not see the double-barreled shotgun aimed at his chest.

“
No!
” Dale screamed as the bear-masked man fired, knocking Red to the ground with one powerful shot. The bear man turned toward Dale, who darted back into the bushes, praying the huge stranger hadn’t heard his shout over the gun’s explosion. Through the leafy and thorny undergrowth, Dale held his breath as he watched the “bear” take a step toward his hiding place, scan the area, and then take another. Dale trembled, squeezing the hilt of the knife, his only weapon. But what good would it do against a seven-foot, shotgun-wielding giant?

Just as the colossal brute was a mere step away, a bullet whizzed overhead, burying itself into the side of a nearby birch tree. The masked monster turned to find Red aiming his rifle with one shaky arm.

“Fuck you,” Red yelled, a wet gurgle making his voice even raspier than usual. “I’m gonna fuck you up!”

Before Red could get off another shot, a flash of sparks bloomed halfway down the rifle’s barrel. As half of the severed weapon fell to the ground, Red spun around to a nearby tree stump. Embedded in its rotted wood was another circular saw blade, and the man throwing them finally emerged.

“Grizzly, you dumb sack of shit!”

The second man was shorter and much thinner than his massive companion, his skin clinging tightly to his slender form like stretched rawhide. He was clad in dirty mechanic’s overalls with the sleeves tied around his waist. A faded, brown baseball cap sat cockeyed on his head, concealing all but a few tuffs of scraggly black hair.

The vice grip squeezing Dale’s heart loosened a little as Grizzly backed away from Dale’s hiding place and joined his partner, who towered above Red.

“This codger almost got the jump on you!” The shorter man shouted and punched Grizzly’s arm. “You’re mighty lucky Bugger was watching your back! What the fuck would you do without your big brother?”

Grizzly only shrugged.

“Well, fuck it, just tie him up,” Bugger ordered his brother and walked over to where the campfire still smoldered. With buckshot embedded in his side and his weapon now useless, Red could offer little resistance against the giant that hefted him from the ground. His punches to Grizzly’s face and chest might as well have been mosquito bites as Grizzly tied up his legs and swung the remaining rope over one of the higher branches of a maple tree. Meanwhile, Bugger retrieved the metal bucket from underneath the hanging deer.

Dale looked on in horror, afraid to move or even breathe. He wanted to help Red, but knew he didn’t stand a chance against two armed thugs. He cursed himself for not bringing along his rifle when he went to the lake. Red had brought his gun with him just to take a piss and ended up with a prize buck. If only Dale had been so smart.

But thank God I spilled beer on my vest
. His camouflage garb was the only thing keeping him alive. Dale felt a mosquito land on his left eyebrow but made no move to brush it away. Maybe if he could just kept quiet and out of sight for a little longer, these two assholes would just take their stuff—weapons, beer, whatever—and be on their way.

From his hiding place, Dale watched the one called Bugger place the bucket underneath Red, who now dangled upside down.

“Now, Grizzly,” Bugger said as he removed a knife even larger than the one Dale held from his belt. “Pay attention, and watch how a real hunter guts his kill.” Bugger plunged the blade into Red’s stomach, all the way to the hilt. Red couldn’t even scream at the brutal attack, only gargle wordlessly as blood clogged his airway. Dale pressed a hand over his mouth as Bugger tore the blade down the entire length of Red’s gut, leaving a long, gaping hole from which a torrent of blood gushed down Red’s body into the bucket below. Red twitched for about ten seconds, shaking like a fish on a line before going limp. The gurgling noises ceased as well, leaving the splash of Red’s blood dripping into the metal tub as the only sound in the quiet forest.

The two brothers just stared at the bloody waterfall, mesmerized by the crimson torrent. Bugger’s trance finally broke when Grizzly grunted and pointed to his brother’s forearm.

Dale saw that the same green fungus still eating away at his own thumb had reached slightly above Bugger’s wrist.

“Well, look at that.” Bugger shrugged, as if the ailment was nothing more than a horsefly bite. “Guess I better have a piece of this one here before it spreads.”

Dale took a deep breath through his nose, a trick he’d once learned at the dentist’s office as a way to control his gag reflex. The exercise barely worked now as he watched Bugger reach into the wound in Red’s stomach, pull out a rope of intestine, and take an enthusiastic bite. Blood smeared Bugger’s mouth as he smiled and chewed, offering a piece of the intestinal coil to his partner. Grizzly accepted the organ and carefully inserted it into the mouth of his bear mask, sucking it into his own concealed mouth like it was a string of spaghetti.

As soon as the slippery sound of Red’s intestine snaking its way into Grizzly’s hungry maw reached Dale’s ears, he simply could not take it anymore. He gagged, releasing the slightest airy cough into the serene stillness.

Bugger slapped Grizzly in the chest.

“Did you hear something?”

Dale jumped out the backside of the brambles and began to sprint. He was sure the two attackers could see the bush shake with his exit, but perhaps they would not actually see him leave the shrubs. Either way, he ran harder than he ever had in his entire life. Tree limbs smacked his face, thorn bushes scratched his skin, but none of it slowed him in the least.

The lake, however, brought him to a dead stop.

He could hear his pursuers getting closer and panic squeezed his chest like a socket wrench. A patch of cattails stuck out of the water’s surface to his right. It was his only chance.

Dale plunged into the cold water and reached the cover of the tall green stems just as Bugger emerged on the shore. From the way his eyes scanned the lake, Dale could tell Bugger hadn’t failed to notice the ripples from Dale’s frantic movements. A moment later, Grizzly joined him by his side.

“Look at the water,” Bugger said, pointing to the ripples. “Something’s out there.”

Suddenly, a fish broke the surface with a strident splash. Grizzly pointed his finger at the source of movement.

“Yeah, it could’ve been a fish,” Bugger said quietly. “But just in case there’s something out there that isn’t a critter,” he paused and then raised his voice, as if speaking directly to Dale, “I wouldn’t be taking a dip if I were you!”

Dale clenched his jaw to silent the sound of his chattering teeth. A gentle wind came and blew at his weak cover, making the brown cattail cones sway side to side.

“You’re not gonna like how you look when you come out!” Bugger continued. “I can promise you that. But if you show yourself now, Grizzly and I can fix you up! We have the cure for what ails you!”

With that, Bugger raised his arm to reveal that his skin no longer showed any sign of the green fungus. There wasn’t the slightest hint of fuzz anywhere on his limb.

He popped the remaining chunk of Red’s intestine into his mouth and licked a bloody finger. “Mmm! Just what the doctor ordered!”

Dale squeezed his eyes shut.

“Hell,” Bugger shouted with a laugh. “Even if we do kill ya, I can downright guarantee it’ll be far less painful than what you’ve got ahead of you!” Bugger waited for three beats and then elbowed his larger companion. “Fuck it, Grizzly. Man or marmot, it’s not worth our time. Let’s get that meat back to the house.”

Without another word, both of the men disappeared from sight.

Dale waited another thirty minutes before emerging from the cattail patch. There was no way of knowing if the killers were still at the campsite, but he didn’t dare find out. The other side of the lake wasn’t too far away, and he’d always been a decent swimmer. Without a second thought, he began an overarm stroke toward the far shore.

It did not take long for feeling to return to Dale’s numbed body as blood pumped back into his muscles. And as his nerves began to reawaken to the sole sensation of burning flesh, Dale realized what a grave mistake he’d made. He should have taken Red’s murderers up on their offer.

His arms, legs, neck, and face were now covered in the insatiable fungus. When his vision blurred and his eyes began to burn, he knew it had found its way behind his eyelids. He could feel it reaching back toward his retinas, searching for his brain.

Leigh Swanson looked up from her Dean Koontz novel just in time to see the disgusting leftovers of a squished raccoon flash past the car window. She’d been ignoring her present company for almost the entire ride back from Montreal, and instantly regretted coming up for air now. While it was indeed engrossing, her attachment to the book was spurred mostly by the one glaringly obvious fact that Leigh had been trying to overlook the entire weekend:

There were worse things than being a third wheel. Sometimes third wheels served an important purpose, like on a tricycle or wheelbarrow. But this was not the case for Leigh.

She was a fifth wheel, a metaphor so absurd it had no literal counterpart.

“Oh, shit!” Rob clutched the steering wheel and whipped his head around for a moment to follow the mangled corpse of the dead animal disappearing behind them. “Did you guys see that?”

His girlfriend, Eliza, laughed from the passenger seat. “Well, I for one don’t mind if you want to go back and get it.”

Rob turned to the girl sitting directly behind Eliza—her sister, Alexandra. “Didn’t you say you were hungry, Alex?”

“Ugh, it looked like it got hit by a steamroller,” Alex said to the couple in the front seat. “You guys are sick.”

Bemused, Leigh shook her head and pretended to return to her book. She’d been tolerating Rob’s childish antics since she’d first boarded his van back at the University of Vermont’s campus. She hadn’t known much about him except that he was a recent transfer student from out of state, who had started dating her best friend’s twin sister almost immediately after stepping foot into their first shared class. This didn’t surprise Leigh in the slightest, since Rob was exactly the type Eliza always fell for: the wanna-be rocker, consistently clad in a trucker’s cap and denim vest covered in Black Flag and Misfits patches. And while it didn’t seem to bother Eliza, Leigh never failed to notice how suspiciously well groomed he kept his perfectly “scruffy” five-o’clock shadow.

Last, and most important, Rob was eternally obnoxious, especially after he’d had a few drinks. If it weren’t for Alex’s incessant pleading, there was no way Leigh would’ve agreed to be in the same vehicle with this loudmouthed poser for two-plus hours.

“Come with us!” Alex had said in her usual, bubbly tone. “I know you don’t like Rob very much, but Marshall and Eliza will be there, too. You’ll have fun!” Even though she and Leigh had been roommates since sophomore year, they were an unlikely pair: polar opposites in appearance and social habits. While Leigh preferred to keep to herself and concentrate on maintaining her
magna cum laude
status, Alex was the epitome of a social butterfly. Blond, busty, and perpetually twirling her hair in that flirtatious fashion that guys somehow still fell for, Alex was a fantasy co-ed come to life. If it weren’t for the fact that Leigh had been blessed with attractive features as well—namely her slender body and striking eyes—Alex probably wouldn’t have given her the time of day.

Fortunately, the utter superficiality of Leigh’s roommate never bothered her enough to affect their friendship. Minor character flaws aside, Alex was fun, even if Leigh had to hold her hair back after a night of excessive drinking a few too many times. She was Leigh’s link to the outside world, a valuable resource that kept her in touch with people her age. Not to mention it was nice having someone call her the “sexiest librarian” she’d ever seen, due to the tortoise shell glasses Leigh always wore.

This time, Leigh had let Alex’s charisma and forceful personality get the best of her, too easily giving in to her pleading and whining to spend Labor Day weekend with her and the rest of the gang up in Montreal. While she didn’t care for Alex’s suggestion to have a fling with a “cute, French Canadian boy,” the trip seemed like a better way to spend her break than doing chores at her parents’ house. She knew her therapist would’ve been proud of her, having many times suggested that Leigh try to cut down on her chronic pessimism. Naturally, Dr. Blaine was right, as Leigh’s increasingly cynical attitude since graduating high school had spurred her to seek treatment in the first place.

“Do you know what ‘fear’ stands for?” Dr. Blaine had once asked. “False events appearing real. We can’t always trust our inner voices because they have a tendency to lie to us. You have to learn to trust
people
once in a while, too.”

So Leigh had heeded her doctor’s advice, reminded herself that fun only happens when you let it, and hopped aboard the Montreal express.