Mass Extinction Event (Book 2): Days 9-16 (18 page)

Elizabeth

Pennsylvania

"Patricia!" I shout, hurrying away from the farmhouse and making my way between the trees. "Something's wrong with Toad! You have to hurry!"

Having left Toad in his bed, I've come to get Patricia so she can fix his bandage and give him something to deal with the fever. The others claim that she headed out into the forest to check the traps, but so far I'm not having any luck finding her. I've got a rifle over my shoulder, just in case I run into any more of those creatures, and I'm starting to wonder whether Patricia was telling the truth when she said she was going to check the traps; after all, there's no sign of her so far, and it's as if she's simply vanished from the face of the planet.

As I trudge through the leafy forest floor, I start to feel more and more nervous. Glancing over my shoulder to check that nothing's following me, I can't stop thinking about the creatures and imagining them swarming toward the farmhouse. Eriksen might be an asshole, but he's got a point when he says that we can't just sit around here forever and hope we can pick the creatures off one by one. Sooner or later, they're going to arrive in greater numbers, and we need something that's more effective than a bunch of rifles and a dwindling supply of bullets.

Just as I'm about to call Patricia's name again, I suddenly realize I can hear a voice in the distance. I immediately take the rifle from over my shoulder, before cautiously making my way between the trees. It sounds as if Patricia's out here talking to someone, but as far as I know everyone's back at the house. Finally, I spot her up ahead, standing in a small clearing and staring down into what appears to be one of the traps.

"If you think that," she's saying, unaware of my presence, "you're insane. I've got no reason to do that. You're lucky I've kept you alive this long. The others would've put a bullet through your head as soon as they saw you."

"I don't feel lucky," says a voice, apparently coming from down in the trap. "You might as well kill me. This body is becoming an inconvenience. I have so many more, and most of them are in much better condition. Please, do me a favor and finish this one off so that I no longer have to pay it any attention."

"Not until you've given me some answers," she replies. "I want to know exactly what the hell you're doing here and what's going to happen next."

"You think I'm going to open up to you?"

"I think you're going to talk eventually," she says firmly. "I think you're smart enough to understand that your current approach is failing."

Taking a step forward, I accidentally tread on a sharp twig; it snaps, and Patricia turns to face me.

"What are you doing out here?" she asks, looking shocked.

"Do we have company?" asks the voice in the pit. "Good. You were beginning to bore me."

"I was looking for you," I say, getting closer to her. As I reach the edge of the pit, I look down and see to my shock that one of the creatures is down there, with a wooden pole running through its chest and pinning it down. It's a remarkably similar sight to the creature that Toad and I encountered the other day in the forest.

"It's okay," Patricia says, her voice filled with tension. "He's not armed. He can't hurt us."

"You again," the creature says with a smile. He looks to have been a middle-aged guy, at least when he was alive; now that he's dead, his skin is gray and yellow, and he's clearly started to rot. "Why do I keep running into you, girl? Do you think it's destiny? You might as well tell me your name, at least. Maybe you did already, but I have so many things to keep track of."

"What the hell's happening out here?" I ask, turning to Patricia.

She pauses, as if she's not quite sure what to say.

"This is the creature from this morning, isn't it?" I continue, suddenly realizing that Toad was right when he said the whole thing seemed too easy. "You didn't kill it. You captured it."

"Scientific research," she replies. "I need to know what the hell these things want, and for that, I needed a live specimen."

"But -"

"There's no point just blowing their heads off every time they get close," she continues. "The others would be too scared to let one of them stay alive like this, so I figured I'd keep it to myself." She pauses. "You can't tell them. There's no way this thing can get loose, so it's not a threat. I just need to know what's happening, and the only way to do that is to perform first-hand scientific research on a representative sample."

"She's going to torture me," the creature says, smiling as it stares at me. "Humans are always so quick to pull things apart when then don't understand them. She thinks she can cut me open and find out how I work. I hate to break it to you, doll, but that's not going to do you much good. I doubt you've got the intelligence or the equipment to understand a damn thing."

"Don't listen to it," Patricia says. "It's trying to play mind games. Believe it or not, the damn thing actually seems to have a sense of humor."

"You have to kill it," I say, turning and aiming my rifle at the creature. "You can't let one of these things near us!"

"Don't be stupid," she replies, pushing the barrel down toward the ground. "Elizabeth, you're smart enough to understand this from my point of view. If we keep killing them, we'll never understand what they are or where they came from or what they want. We have to take a scientific approach to the problem. We're not cavemen, and we're not so dumb that we have to run around in blind panic, shooting everything that scares us." She pauses for a moment. "We have to be brave. The others are too reactionary, but I'm convinced you can understand the value of this work."

Looking down at the creature, I realize that she's right: I
can
see why she's doing this. For the first time, instead of wanting to run and get away from one of these things, I find myself drawn to look closer. This thing is hideous, but we have to understand what it is and how it can be stopped. If we just keep running and shooting, eventually we'll run out of bullets and they'll overwhelm us.

"Maybe we can find a cure," Patricia says after a moment. "Maybe we can reverse this, or at least find a way to stop them. I'm not promising anything, but it's a start. We have to assume that there are millions, maybe even billions of these things on the planet. We can't spend the rest of our lives in fear. Throughout history, humanity has made advances through scientific inquiry, and that's exactly what we're going to do now." She waits for me to say something. "Some people pray to God," she adds, "and some people pick up a scalpel and try to understand what's happening in the world around them. I want to do both."

"So what's the first step?" I ask hesitantly, aware that the creature seems to be listening intently to our conversation.

"I'm trying to engage it in conversation," she replies. "It thinks it's pretty smart, and it certainly doesn't seem to want to let anything slip so far. It keeps trying to play games with me, but I'm convinced I can learn something useful before I move on to stage two."

"And what's that?" I ask.

"Stress tests," she continues. "I want to know what this thing can withstand, and I want to know its abilities. For one thing, it looks as if it's rotting. If that's the case, it might just die naturally in a few days. And then..." She pauses. "And then there's stage three. Dissection."

"That sounds fun," the creature says with a grin.

"This isn't magic or fantasy," Patricia continues, walking around to the other side of the pit. "This is a real-life creature, and it's subject to the rules of biology, just the same as any other creature on the planet. It wasn't created with pixie dust or fairy magic. This is life, Elizabeth, and life always finds a way to move forward. Life can overcome any problem that's put in its way, and this creature is a perfect example of that quality."

"How romantic," the creature sneers. "Even when you're talking about science, you can't resist throwing in some bullshit to sweeten the deal."

"I can do this," Patricia says after a moment, fixing me with a determined stare. "I know I can. I can analyze this creature and I can work out what to do next, but only if I'm given the chance. If the others find out, they'll come out here, pour gasoline all over the damn thing and burn it until there's nothing left. Even Toad won't be able to understand why I need to keep it alive." She pauses again. "Elizabeth, I need to know that you can keep this project to yourself, and I need to know I can trust you."

I take a deep breath. "What if I say no?" I reply after a moment, unable to ignore the fact that she's got a pistol in one hand. "What will you do if I refuse?"

She pauses. "Is that your answer?" she asks eventually, and it's clear that her mind is spinning as she tries to make a decision. I can't help but feel that Patricia's the kind of person who'll do anything to get her way.

"No," I reply. "It's not." I look down at the creature and realize that I have to go along with her. We can't just keep shooting at these things as if we're never going to run out of ammunition; we have to understand them, and then we have to come up with a better way to stop them. "You're right," I continue eventually. "Cut it up. Slice it down the middle. Whatever. If it helps, you have to do it. I can even help, but first you have to come back to the farm. Toad's sick."

"What's wrong with him?" she asks, clearly concerned.

"He's got a fever," I reply, "and his wound looks as if it's infected."

"Infected?" the creature says with a grin. "Are you sure he's not becoming like me?"

"His
wound
is infected," I say firmly. "That's all. It's not the same kind of sickness that other people have been getting."

"We'll see," Patricia says, clearly unconvinced. "Okay, I'll come and take a look, but after that I'm coming back out here. If anyone asks about me, just tell them I'm working on the traps. Whatever happens, don't let anyone come this way. I don't want them to find this creature. That's why I lied earlier and claimed I'd killed it. Bridger and Thor and the others, they wouldn't understand. You can't even tell Toad. You're the only one I trust, Elizabeth. Please, don't let me down."

"I won't tell anyone," I reply, "but we have to get back to the house. Toad might be dying. There's pus in his wound and he's delirious with fever."

As we hurry through the forest, I can't help noticing that Patricia seems unusually quiet.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask eventually.

"When you say that Toad seems sick," she replies, with a worried look in her eyes, "what
exactly
do you mean? What kind of sick?"

"Not like the creatures," I reply. "It's not that, it's just -"

"We have to be cautious," she says, interrupting me. "I know you and Toad seem to get along pretty well, but no-one's above suspicion. We can't risk infection spreading through the house. If he's sick, we need to quarantine him and make sure no-one else goes near him."

"He's not infected," I tell her. "Not like that. It's just an infection from his wound."

"Let's hope you're right," she says as we reach the edge of the forest and start making our way over to the house, only to hear Bridger calling for Patricia from out front. He sounds panicked, as if something's wrong.

"It seems I'm popular," she says uneasily.

"Quick!" Bridger shouts, running over to us. "Where the hell have you been? We need you. It's Shauna. She's gone into labor!"

"She's not due for another month," I point out.

"Tell that to the baby," he replies, grabbing Patricia's arm and pulling her toward the house. "It's coming, and Shauna's panicking like hell. She's convinced the baby won't survive. There's a whole lot of blood, and no-one knows what the hell to do."

"Get some water and heat it over the fire," Patricia says, hurrying to the door. "Bring some towels and blankets, whatever you can find!" She turns to me. "I'll get to Toad, but this is an emergency, okay? You have to come up with me. I can teach you what to do, in case you're ever in this situation."

"I can't deliver a baby," I reply, stunned at the suggestion.

"You're not going to deliver it," she snaps back at me, "but you're going to help. You need to learn how to do things like this, Elizabeth. Maybe one day you'll save someone's life."

I watch as she turns and runs up the stairs.

"Where's Eriksen?" I ask, as Bridger opens a nearby cupboard and starts pulling out various blankets.

"Where do you think?" he asks. "Drunk, as usual."

"But -"

"We don't have time for a long conversation," he replies, shoving some blankets into my arms. "Take these up. Tell Patricia I'll bring the water."

From upstairs, there's a scream of pain, and it's clear that Shauna's not in a good way. I follow Bridger up to the room, but as soon as we go inside, I'm shocked by the amount of blood. Shaun's on the bed, with her legs spread wide, but blood is soaking the sheets and I can tell from the look in Patricia's eyes that something's wrong. It's a horrific scene, and it's hard to believe that somewhere in that bloody mess, the baby could still be alive.

"Elizabeth," Patricia says, turning to me. "I'm going to need your help with this."