Prophecy (24 page)

“Please help it,” Maggie pleaded.

Rob nodded and began constructing the I.V. Within five minutes it was strapped to the creature’s tiny arm and, as Rob listened to the heartbeat through his stethoscope, he nodded with relief. The respiration had returned to normal and the body temperature was coming down.

From outside, Hawks had watched the flurry of activity, and had a moment of alarm when he heard the creature squeal. Its voice was powerful and carried easily into the forest. It had silenced the crickets, and they had remained silent. The forest was hushed, as though holding its breath.

Hawks strained his eyes, searching the dark. He saw threatening shapes in every darkened configuration, frightening movements in the rustling of the trees, and realized that his imagination was beginning to stir. A sudden sound caused him to jump. It was a small toad plopping lazily out of the brush, attracted by the glow of the fire. It trundled forward and planted itself directly atop an anthill; the ants streamed all over it, biting into its eyes and face.

A sound came from behind Hawks, and he turned quickly to see the tent flaps parting as someone

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emerged. It was the pilot. He shined his flashlight on Hawks as he approached; the two assessed each other in wary silence.

“Looks like the rain stopped, huh?” the pilot mumbled.

Hawks nodded.

“Think your friends are coming back?”

“They said they would.”

“Think they will?”

Hawks didn’t like the question and was unwilling to repeat his answer.

“If they don’t show up pretty soon, I’m goin’ back to the chopper and fly outa here.”

Hawks did not respond.

“You from around here?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t sound it.”

“No?”

“You don’t sound like an Indian.”

Hawks glanced at him. “Neither do you.”

“I’m not.”

“Does that mean you’re not from around here?”

The pilot was puzzled; Hawks moved away.

“That woman in there,” the pilot said. “She your squaw?”

Hawks glared at him with revulsion. “Which one?”

The pilot snorted with surprise and shook his head. Then he walked away. Hawks could hear the sound of his pants unzipping and his belt buckle rattling as the pilot walked into the forest.

Within the tent, the hanging bottle had dripped its last, and Rob refilled it. He used a pure saline solution this time, leaving out the amenopheline additive he’d used in the first bottle. The stimulant had done its work. The creature had begun to move now, one of its tinv arms waving in the air as though searching for something to latch onto.

Standing beside Rob, her parched lips parted, her

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downward stare vacant, as if she were barely maintaining focus, Maggie responded to the creature’s gesture. She reached out, but her hand stopped, trembling just above the outstretched claw.

Rob turned to her, his eyes filled with concern. Her complexion was pallid, her expression dazed. He realized that she was near collapse.

“Maggie … ?”

Her eyes traveled to Ms, as though finding him across a great distance.

“Touch it,” she whispered. “Let it know someone’s here.”

He took her trembling hand and felt that it was ice-cold.

“Come sit down,” he said gently.

“How old is it?” she whispered.

“I don’t know.”

“Is it just born?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s a baby,” she said, speaking so softly that he could barely hear her. “It’s just born.”

Chilled by her tone of voice, Rob turned to his kit, looking for a tranquilizer, but was interrupted by the pilot, who strode in, picked up his backpack, and addressed Rob with finality.

“It’s all stopped out there. The rain, the wind, everything. I say we go back to the plane and fly outa here.”

“We can’t do that.”

“Those Indians aren’t coming back.”

“They’ll come,” Romona said.

“You wait for an Indian to show up, you can wait for three days.”

“They’ll be here,” Rob said.

“You’re wasting your time.”

“We’re waiting.”

“I’m not.” He started out.

“Wait a minute,” Rob commanded.

“You want to come with me, that’s fine.”

Rob glanced at Maggie, reluctant to say what he

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had to in front of her. But it seemed as though she weren’t hearing.

“Do you see what’s on that table?” Rob asked the pilot intensely.

“A freak.”

“A mutation.”

“If I found something like that, I’d kill it and bury it.”

“It was given birth to by something that probably looks very much like it. Only a lot bigger. And it’s probably close to where your helicopter is.”

The pilot’s expression sobered and he approached the table, gazing down at the creature with revulsion.

“I’m trying to keep it alive,” Rob said, “to see that no more of them are born.”

Though she seemed oblivious to the conversation, Maggie’s fists clenched.

“We need you here,” Rob continued. “If we can’t make it out tonight, we’ll have to try for the helicopter in the morning.”

“You said I shouldn’t go to the helicopter.”

“I’m guessing that this animal is nocturnal. You can tell that by the size of the eyes.”

The pilot looked unconvinced.

“You heard about the disappearances in the forest?” Rob asked.

“Yes.”

“A night crew from the lumber company, a rescue team, a family of campers. They all disappeared at night. If we have to, we can risk going to the helicopter in the morning.”

The pilot absorbed this in silence, then turned his eyes to Rob. “I’ve got a wife at home,” he said quietly. “And a kid. They’re gonna think I crashed somewhere. They’re scared of my crashing somewhere.”

“If you go near that helicopter in the dark, you might never get home.”

The pilot gulped hard and nodded. “I’ll wait,” he said. Then he turned and disappeared through the tent flaps.

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Rob looked at Maggie and was satisfied that the conversation had gone past her. She stood with exactly the same expression and posture that she had maintained from the beginning.

“Maggie?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s go outside. Let’s get some air.”

She was reluctant.

“Romona’s here.”

“I’ll watch it,” Romona said.

Rob took Maggie’s arm and led her out into the night. The air was clear and cold; the fire blazed high, illuminating the circle of trees. Rob could see both Hawks and the pilot, each at different points in the tree line, keeping watch. Hawks’s archer’s bow was beside him, resting against a tree trunk, the quiver on the ground beside it.

Maggie shivered within her parka and Rob brought her near the fire, taking the woolen shawl that hung loosely around her neck and wrapping it close beneath her chin. Her face was blank as she gazed beyond him into the flames. She seemed so withdrawn and unapproachable that Rob was hesitant to speak.

“Maggie?” He whispered.

She did not respond.

“I know it’s a nightmare. But it’ll be over soon.”

She remained immobile, as though unhearing.

“We’ll be out of here by morning,” Rob said gently. “We’ll go home. You don’t ever have to think about it again.”

She stiffened but made no reply.

“Maggie?”

She turned her head aside. Rob was becoming frightened that he was unable to reach her. He moved in front of her, but she stared right through him.

“Remember what the old man said?” Rob asked quietly. “About this creature awakening to protect them? In a strange way, it’s true. What we found is going to stop what’s going on here. No one can ignore this any more.”

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He waited for a response, but none came.

“Do you hear what I’m saying? There’s a reason why this happened. And there’s a reason why we’re here.”

He was becoming desperate now. He reached for her and she went rigid, as though warning him not to touch.

“I know it’s ugly, Maggie. It’s ugly because it wasn’t meant to be.”

Her eyes finally turned to him. They were hard, glinting in the firelight with anger.

“How do you know that, Rob?”

Rob shook his head with confusion.

“That it wasn’t meant to be,” she added.

“It’s a sick and deformed … thing.”

“It’s a living thing. Who are you to say it wasn’t meant to be?”

Her expression was harsh and taut; the muscles in her neck and face were tensed to the point of trembling.

“What is it they say?” she asked in a shaking breath. “That God works … in wondrous ways …?”

She shuddered and her breathing suddenly accelerated, hissing through clenched teeth as her face contorted into a mask of rage.

“Maggie?”

He reached out for her again and she raised both arms to ward him off. He stood paralyzed, held by her glaring eves.

“What is it?”

“T’m pregnant!” she blurted. “I’m pregnant!”

Rob blanched, his eyes snapping wide with shock.

“I’m pregnant!” she screamed. “And I ate … what they ate! What the mother of those creatures ate out there!”

“Dear God …” Rob breathed.

“The fish!” she sobbed. “For six days! Is that enough? Am I growing a monster, too?”

Hearing her cries, Romona hurried from the tent; Hawks and the pilot ran forward too.

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“I’m pregnant!” she screamed at them. “I’ve got it, too! I’ve got one inside of me! I’ve got one, too!”

Rob grabbed for her and she spun, suddenly panicking, struggling to get away.

“No!” she screamed but he caught her sleeve and held firm, attempting to pull her into his arms. “Get away!” she shouted.

“Maggie!”

“Stop touching me!” she cried desperately. “Let me go!”

With a surge of energy she escaped his grip, backing away with wild and frightened eyes.

“Are you afraid of me?” she screamed. “I’m the mother of a monster! I’m the mother of a monster, too!”

“Maggie …”

“Don’t get near me, don’t get near me!”

“Please, Maggie …” Rob uttered as he moved toward her.

“You won’t kill it! I won’t let you!”

“Maggie …”

“You did this! You made this happen!”

“No …”

“You didn’t want to know, you didn’t want to hear!”

“Please …”

“You hated it! You hated it!”

“Maggie!”

“It’s a freak now! It’s a monster now!”

Rob stopped, his face etched with anguish as he watched her ranting in front of the flames.

“It wants to be born!” she screamed. “It wants to be born!”

Suddenly she groaned and slapped her hands to her mouth; vomit spewed out from between her fingers. Rob ran to her and held her, sinking with her to the ground, where she wretched and moaned, finally collapsing into his arms. She gasped and clung to him, her teeth beginning to chatter.

“Hold me …” she gasped.

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“I will. I’m here.”

“Don’t let me go. Don’t let me kill it. I can’t kill it.”

“No, no,” he soothed, stroking her hair. And suddenly she inhaled sharply, her hands clutching at her stomach.

“It’s hurting me!” she cried in panic.

“Lie back.”

“It’s eating me!”

“It’s the vomiting, lie back… .”

“Don’t let it hurt me!”

“Get my kit,” Rob said to Romona. Romona whirled and rushed into the tent, reappearing instantly with Rob’s bag.

“Don’t hurt it,” Maggie pleaded as Rob pulled her jacket off and rolled up her sweater sleeve. “Don’t hurt my baby …”

Rob fumbled with trembling hands to prepare a syringe. He had nothing in his kit weaker than morphine; he drew a minuscule amount, injecting it directly into the crook of Maggie’s elbow.

“Oh, God!” she shouted. Then she instantly became calm.

“Maggie.”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to be all right …”

“No.”

“We’re going to get through it.”

“No. I can’t kill it.”

“Just relax … relax …”

Her eyes closed and she sank back against him.

“Please … love me,” she whimpered. Then she fell silent.

Hawks, Romona, and the pilot slowly disbursed, leaving Rob alone, cradling Maggie in his arms. His face contorted, and a sob of despair rose up from his gut. It had the sound of pain, as though it were breaking through a barrier of flesh and bone to escape from the depths in which, for an entire lifetime, the feeling of fear had been buried. Once it broke through, it would not be stopped. Rob’s body shook with it

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as he rocked Maggie in his arms, the forest resounding with the sound of his tears.

Eventually he quieted, sensing the hush of the atmosphere around him. The forest was unmoving, as though suspended in a vacuum.

The he heard the movement in the trees. It was distant, a kind of shuffling sound. Almost inaudible at first, growing louder as he listened.

He roused Maggie and struggled to get her to her feet. The pilot came to help him with her, his eyes riveted on the forest. Hawks moved into the darkness of the tree line, straining to see.

Romona emerged from the tent, cocking her ear in the direction of the oncoming sound.

“It’s people,” she said with relief.

“Look,” Hawks called.

Their eyes followed his gesture toward a line of tiny lights moving slowly toward them through the trees. They were lanterns and flashlights, strung closely together, seeming to float like an illuminated string of pearls in the surrounding darkness.

“They’re from the village,” Romona said.

“What good are they going to do?” the pilot asked grimly. “We needed cars.”

Rob led Maggie into the tent, gathering some burlap for her to sit on beside the smoldering coals. As he eased her down, he could see that the effects of the morphine were waning. There was clarity in her eyes.

“Don’t let them hurt it, Rob,” she whispered.

He shook his head to reassure her. “Wait here.”

As Rob stepped out of the tent, the procession of lantern-carrying Indians was emerging into the clearing. A few of them were young, but most were elderly, their faces deeply lined and somber. They assembled in silence, the glow of the fire casting their shadows high upon the trees.