A Lonely and Curious Country (24 page)

“Hello, Jane, I'm Doctor Mott.”

Jane nodded a silent greeting.

“Your father told me all about your situation. Please don't worry about a thing. The procedure takes only a few moments and we will do our best to keep you comfortable. You will feel some pressure but our friend here,” he gave the canister a hearty pat, “will make sure you feel no pain.”

Jane exhaled. This man was the only normal thing she had been in contact with since her arrival. She found her voice.

“What is this place? Is this a town?”

“Yes, indeedy. Welcome to Innsmouth.” He made a welcoming gesture with open arms then laughed. Leaning in closer, he said, “I don't blame you. I'm not nuts about it either.” Then louder, “it used to be a much different place. It was once bustling and lively. But a few years back there was some...trouble, and then the government got involved and that was a real dilly of a pickle. Now with the war on, they seem to be preoccupied with trouncing the Germans and the Japs, so they’ve pretty much left this place, although it’s still not the same as it was. But the natives are proud.” He jerked his head toward the nurse whose back was to them.

As if on cue, the nurse then moved to Jane's side and pushed her down onto the table with gentle hands, the garish smile never leaving her face. Jane was able to make out the word ETHER before a mask was lowered over her nose and mouth. The doctor said, “Here we go, Jane. Just relax. I’ll see you again when it’s over.”

The last thing she saw before her eyes closed of their own volition were the froggish eyes of the attending nurse looming over her. Jane could no longer see, but she could hear movement around her. She heard what sounded like the rusty squeak and swish of a swinging door followed by an unfamiliar muddling of gurgles and what must have been words. She sensed something heavy moving itself toward her and her nausea returned as the fishy stench enveloped her once more. At the edge of her consciousness, Jane felt her legs being grasped by something slimy and positioned into something cold and unwieldy.
Those handle things aren't handles at all,
she thought as her hands were being strapped down above her head. She attempted to struggle but her efforts never made it past her will. Then, with no preamble, something icy forced its way deep into her. There was more pressure than pain but she felt violated by the alien intrusion. There was a forcible tugging. Jane felt as if something were trying to pull her inside out. She felt a sudden vague warmth. She cried out but nothing more than a quiet moan escaped her lips. A gurgling voice barked a command that she could not decipher, then the world went black.

***

Consciousness returned one sense at a time, but it began with pain. It was a dull, aching, hollowness, a void that felt recently evacuated. She was lying on her back on a lumpy mattress and under a stiff and scratchy wool blanket. Sound came next: a constant dripping close by, her own moans, and the creek of bedsprings as she moved. The odor she breathed in was the same mix of fish and rot that seemed to permeate this god forsaken town with a faint antiseptic undertone. Her mouth tasted stale and coppery and her tongue was a sluggish, dry sponge that was slow to stir. Jane opened her eyes and saw only dull, grey light awaiting her. Turning her head from side to side revealed that she was alone in a small room. Other than the single bed she was in, it was devoid of furnishings and warmth. The walls were bare, discolored, and warped from years of water damage. The dripping that seemed to thunder in her ears came from a bucket placed in one corner of the room. The dented tin pale was overflowing, so every drop that fell into it from the seeping stain in the ceiling caused more murky water to spill out onto the faded tile floor.

Hello?
Jane tried so say, but her mouth still wasn’t working. She attempted to raise herself up on her arms, but they felt too rubbery and weak to do the job. “Hello?” This time she managed a croak that was as audible as a whisper in church. She licked her dry lips, inhaled to fill her lungs with the foul air to try again, but stopped when she heard a scream.

Jane froze, listening, wondering if she had heard what she thought she had, when there was a second scream. This one was longer, filled with terror, and came from a woman somewhere outside of her room.

She felt her flesh tingle as goose bumps broke out all over her. She then heard Dr. Mott’s cheery voice from the hallway past the open door to her room, “Well it seems Miss Watkins woke up during the procedure. I guess that’s what we get for watering down the ether to try and make it last.” Jane heard the man’s footfalls coming closer, so she laid back down and shut her eyes until she was peeking out between the lashes of her eyelids, trying to feign unconsciousness. She didn’t know why she did that, but it felt like the right course of action.

Miss Watkins, whomever she was, continued to scream.

“Damn it all,” Dr. Mott said, closer to Jane’s room, “Nurse, she’s the last girl of the day, right?”

Jane heard someone with a mouth full of mud answer, but the voice was so inhuman sounding that she couldn’t make sense of the reply.

“Well good, that’s at least something,” the doctor said, and now he was standing right outside her door looking in at her. Through her slitted eyes, Jane couldn’t make out his face, but his silhouette gave her the impression that he was studying her through the gloom.

“And Miss Chatham, how are you doing in there?” he called.

Jane remained silent.

“Miss Chatham…”

The screaming continued.

Jane saw Dr. Mott’s shadow nod, turn, and continue down the hall. “Well get in there, nurse, and shut her up before she wakes up the whole damn town. You know how they hate a fuss.”

She heard someone croak out an affirmative and then the sound of the screaming intensified as the door to the room Miss Watkins occupied was opened by the doctor. “Young lady that is enough of that!” she heard the doctor shout over the hysterical screams, “Sure, this little fellow ain’t nothing to look at, but he isn’t hurting you. He’s just sucking out that little problem of yours, and this is how you treat him?” The door closed and the rest became muffled words and hoarse pleas of “get it out of me, get it out of me!”

That was enough for Jane.  

She sat up in bed and looked around for her clothes, although she knew they weren’t in the room with her.
I’ll get new clothes
, she thought,
I’ve
just got to get out of here, this is all wrong.
Clad in a thin, cotton gown and nothing else, she tiptoed to the door on her bare feet and looked down the hall to where the shouts had given way to gasping sobs.

“That’s it, young lady, that’s it, go back to sleep,” she heard Dr. Mott say.

Jane stepped out into the hall, turned in the opposite direction from that room, and took three shaking steps before she froze in her tracks when she heard what the doctor said next: “Nurse, tell the elders that we’re going to have to dispose of this one once we’re done.”

Oh my god,
Jane’s mind screamed, and then she was off. Her feet stumbled across the cold, wet floor, her eyes sought any avenue of escape, and her hands grasped at each clammy doorknob as she came to them. The first door she tried was locked. The next led to a small closet of near empty shelves, the third to an unoccupied room identical to the one in which she had awakened. Next was a small office she thought had to be Dr. Mott’s. There were shelves stacked with books, a desk cluttered with papers, an ashtray with a smoking cigar in it, and another pail catching water dripping from the ceiling, but no exit.

There was one door left in the hallway, so when she found that it was unlocked, Jane rushed inside and shut it behind her without looking
. There has to be a back door out of this place, there just has to be
, she thought as she turned around and looked at the room she had entered. Doing so caused her lips to twist into a grimace as her mind tried to make sense of what she saw before her. It was like looking at old photographs, showing a mix of people she recognized and complete strangers, in locations both familiar and exotic. Little by little she pieced together the whole from the parts, but every revelation that came to her only brought more questions.

In the center of this room a pulsating, misshapen mass of diseased flesh twitched and shuddered. It was larger than her father’s car and it excreted foul fluids that ran off in filthy rivers across the floor to disappear down a crusted drain some feet away. Several bladders across its slimy surface inflated and deflated in rhythmic unison, giving it the impression of breathing. It was spotted with yellow, puss-leaking orbs that could have been eyes if the idea was not repulsive and crazy. There were six large growths sprouting from it at random and ranging in size from about six inches in diameter, to close to three feet. The organic membrane they were made out of was translucent, so Jane could see that they were filled with greenish fluid. Also, inside each pustule, a small, dark shape floated. No, not just floated, but wiggled and even swam. Each bulbous sack held something that was alive.  

“No, no, no,” Jane whispered. Despite her better judgment, she took a few steps toward to the unwholesome creature to get a better look at the things it contained.

The growth closest to her was the smallest, and what it held was a tiny, dark, curled shape that was unrecognizable to her. The next largest sack held something more defined, and Jane recognized what it was from illustrations in her high school biology book. The third was even more developed and bits of anatomy such as hands, feet, and facial features were identifiable. However, the full extent of the nightmare became clear to Jane when she looked at what was swimming in the fourth embryonic tumor. What was in that growth was not human, or at least, not completely human. While it still had the basic shape, the outline was marred by webbing between the fingers of its tiny, grasping hands, eyes that were too big for its face, and along its back was a raised growth that could only have been a dorsal fin. The fifth monstrosity was even more alien looking than its smaller brethren. The sixth unborn child, for Jane had to admit to herself what they were, was far more fish-like than human. Covered in scales with a lipless mouth filled with sharp teeth, it had claws at the ends of its fingers, fluttering gills along its neck, and bulging, unblinking eyes that were locked on her. Then, when Jane brought a hand up to her mouth to stifle a scream, the two-foot-long terror used its claws to puncture the external womb that held it and began to tear its way to freedom. Fetid green fluid burst forth as the newborn poked its misshapen head out of the wound to let loose a croaking cry.

Jane spun on her heel to flee the abominable sight, only to see that her escape was blocked by a grinning Dr. Mott and the frowning nurse from before. The doctor held a bundle in one hand, something wrapped in a towel that dripped.

“Nurse, if you would, please see to the little one.” Dr. Mott said.

The nurse pushed past Jane, giving her a snarl and a fresh whiff of her putrid scent as she did so. She reached out to the mewling freak and picked it up like a loving mother, soothing it with throaty cooing sounds.

“What are they?” Jane asked, voicing the question that had tormented her since she laid eyes on the horrible things in the quivering fluid sacks.

Dr. Mott stepped toward the woman, smile still affixed to his face, and said, “You see, there are them from the deep that wish to breed with us, always have for some reason I don’t quite understand, myself. They’re willing to pay for the privilege, too. So some years back, the people of Innsmouth took them up on their offer, and things were fine for a while. Then the government came, killed a lot of folks, both deep ones and those like my nurse here who were half and half, and that was that. But then the war started and suddenly the army had other fish to fry.” Mott stopped, thought about something for a moment, and then giggled. “Ha, fish to fry.” 

Dr. Mott, having backed Jane farther into the room by his slow, steady advance, turned to the large, shuddering, organic mass. He opened up the bundle he was carrying, revealing a small, membranous pouch. He held the small meat sack out to the amorphous thing which responded by growing a fleshy stalk and extending it to what Mott offered. Once the stalk connected with the pouch, it retracted until the sack hung from its side, parasite like.

The doctor wiped his hands on the towel with unconcealed disgust before dropping it and turning back to Jane. “Once the government was out of Innsmouth, the deep ones wanted to go back to their old arrangement, but they’re not stupid. They didn’t want the government back down on them. So they reached out to those desperate, stupid, or greedy enough to listen to them,” at that, Mott’s grin turned sheepish, “and well, new ways were thought up to give them what they want. Sure, it’s a lot slower, but it’s safer, and them from below are nothing if not patient.”

“It’s monstrous,” Jane said.

“Nonsense, all we do is take what you throw away and use it. You obviously didn’t want it, anyway.”

Dr. Mott pulled a syringe from his pocket and filled it with a yellow fluid from a vial in his other hand. Jane didn’t like the look of the needle or what was in the doctor’s eyes, so she tried to make a run for the door. Before she could do anything, the strong, sweaty arms of the nurse were around her, pinning her own arms to her sides. The nurse proved to be quite stealthy despite her looks and had crept up behind Jane who was struggling to understand everything she had seen and heard.