Beautiful Death (Bella Morté Trilogy Book 1) (14 page)

Nine

Hot. It was like an oven in his sleeping bag. It was later than it should be. First one brown eye peered out as he pulled the cover down. There was light and soon a head of blonde hair followed that eye. It was as if electricity zapped him while he slept as his hair went off in all directions. Both eyes wildly looked around.

“Holy shit!” He pulled out the earplugs, listening. “It’s daylight!”

It was late enough that he should have heard people laughing and having fun, but there was nothing but silence. It was quiet, too damn quiet.

Frank Martin had been an employee for many years. He was good at what he did. He loved his job. Oh sure, he bitched about it like the next person, but the truth of the matter was, he wouldn’t trade it for any other. Tripping to the floor, he scrambled, kicking his feet, feverishly trying to free himself. Staggering around half asleep, he searched for his cell phone. When he found it, he pushed the button, checking for the time. It was well past one in the afternoon. His shift started at seven in the morning.

“Oh shit! What the fuck’s goin’ on?”

He tried calling his boss. When the call wouldn’t go through, he raised his hand, thinking about slamming the phone on the ground. He paused. The cost of replacing it with an identical one would set him back and he needed his phone for his job. He calmly put it back in his pocket.

Jumping up, he quickly dressed. Dancing around, he hurriedly put on socks and shoes and opened his tent. He practically fell out. Looking around, confused, he was more than a little disturbed. “What the fuck?” He whirled in a circle, dragging a hand through his hair. “Holy shit! I slept through this. Those are some damn good earplugs!” He stopped short. Laughing, he took a deep breath, shaking his head. He twirled around in a circle. “Okay. You guys can come out now, ya know. Ya got me. Ya really scared the piss outta me. Get out here so I can tell ya what sick, twisted fucks you are. It looks so real, ya know!” He stood waiting. Nothing happened. “Guys? Trevor. Brandon. Justice. Where are you?”

The guides played practical jokes on each other all the time. He had been the butt of their pranks many times. The longer he waited, the more he realized. It wasn’t a joke of any kind. It was real. He saw clusters of body parts scattered in pools of blood. People he worked with so disfigured they were unrecognizable: torn to pieces with fragments scattered everywhere.

He found it hard to breathe. There was a thick fog lingering in the air. The stench of rotting flesh so fierce, he had to cover his nose. Using his shirt, he coughed, gagging slightly. There was a decapitated head pinned to a tree. It looked like a warning. The look on the face was horrific. The skin dragged away from the flesh like a wax figure, melting in the sun. Terror-filled eyes rolled back, revealing nothing but the cornea. The mouth was open and a snake slithered out. If it wasn’t real, it was the creepiest mask he had ever seen.

He stood in shock and disbelief. It couldn’t be real, but the evidence was all around him. Hearing a noise, he spun around. Smiling, he laughed softly. “Tiffany? Oh, thank God you’re here, ya know.”

The timid girl around the camp was Tiffany Castle. Everyone liked her. She was tiny, adorable, and easy to get along with and most everyone loved her. Even the clients liked the fact that she was hilarious. She made them laugh through their fright when they were on the zip line. She was popular and one of the most requested guides.

She didn’t look so cute anymore. Covered in blood from head to toe, she took a bite from a severed human hand. The raw, fleshy tendrils hung from the hand, her mouth, as well as stuck in her teeth. Noticing him, she threw it down, taking steps toward him.

“Good Lord.” He hesitated, taking a step back. “What happened to you? What are you eatin’? Are you okay? Ya don’t look so good, ya know.”

As she got closer, it was obvious what she wanted. He took a few steps back and stumbled. Turning himself around, he tried to run. Tripping over the body behind him, he fell to the ground. He fell on his hands, face to face with something that made him tremble, shaking deep within his soul out of pure terror.

Time stood still, but Tiffany didn’t.

Next to him on the ground was another decapitated head. They were all over the place. One lifeless eye looked at him with half of the face clean of flesh. He could see the skull. The jaw was broken just hanging wide-open, missing teeth. It looked painful. The other side of the face seemed intact. Hair ripped out by the handfuls with crusted blood spots. It looked like de-feathering a bird. Little brown tufts left in place, also covered in blood. Many dents in the head covered with bruises were evidence of the beating this person took.

While he was busy inspecting the head, Tiffany grew closer. She reached down for him, growling, as she grabbed at his shirt. That was enough for him. Hands dug into the ground as he shuffled his feet to gain traction. He planted his feet firmly and ran. Tiffany was on top of him, yet she still only grabbed at air. Snarling, with outstretched hands, she ran at him.

He could hear her huffing loudly behind him. He didn’t stop. He had gotten a too-close inspection of that head. Whoever it was had died a very painful death. One he didn’t plan on duplicating. Sprinting through the woods like an excellent hurdler, the bushes weren’t a problem. Without missing a beat, he ducked under low-level limbs.

Scaling up the trees higher, he looked like a flying squirrel as he jumped to the one beside it. Grabbing at the limb, he barely caught it. Cuts and scratches were all over his hands, but he continued leaping from one to another before shimmying back down. Once more, he took off running. He didn’t look back. Plunging into the river, and creeks, he slipped and fell into the mud, but didn’t stop. Finally, after running forever, he turned, looking behind him. She was nowhere in sight, probably still trying to climb that first tree he went up. Looking around, he realized one small little fact.

He was lost in the middle of the woods. “This just isn’t my day, ya know.”

Ten

Trevor slept on the window seat with his head pressed against the glass. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, but with all the snoring around him, it was bound to happen. It was like singing a lullaby to a newborn. Looking around, he jerked his head up. Something woke him. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Shrugging, he put his head back down to get comfortable. That was when he heard the noise again. It was a faint sound like a limb snapping outside the window.

Opening his eyes, he snatched the binoculars off the window seat. Holding them to his face, he peered outside. “What in God’s name is
that
?”

Bringing his hand up, he turned the dial. This brought the figure in for a closer look, but it didn’t help. It looked like a walking patch of leaves. It was obviously a person under all the muck. Sighing, he set the binoculars down. Picking up the rifle, he rested it comfortably in his hands. Pushing the barrel out the window, he looked through the scope. He lined it up in his view and pulled the trigger.

It was pitch black. There wasn’t any light to help Frank find his way. His eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. It wasn’t enough to stop him from running into a few trees, which caused him to fall in his fair share of mud. Covered in leaves and mud made it hard to walk. He waddled from side to side as it hardened.

He didn’t need light to recognize the massive building. It was the central headquarters where he spent most of his days. Breathing a sigh of relief, he headed in that direction. He was noisy, tromping through the leaves. He tripped over a limb and hit the ground just seconds before he heard a shot.

BAM!

The blast broke the quiet of the night. Frank threw himself behind a tree, hearing the shot ricochet. “Yo! Who’s shootin’ my ass?” He screamed.

Trevor pulled back the rifle, arching a brow. Picking up the binoculars, he looked out again. He didn’t see anything. “Well, ‘at depends on who you are?”

“Frank Martin! I work here! Who the hell are you?”

The shot roused Brandon from sleep, who slept at Trevor’s feet. “What the fuck’s goin’ on?” Sitting up, he looked around curiously. Fingers rubbed his eyes. “Who are you yellin’ at?”

Trevor gestured out the window. “The guy out there, who looks a lot like the swamp thing, says he’s Frank.” He turned back to the window. “How do I know you’re not a Freakazoid?”

Frank looked confused. “What the fuck’s a Freakazoid?” Realizing he was going to have to prove who he was, he dug in his pocket. Pulling out his cell phone, he pushed a few buttons. Holding it above his head, he grinned. “Does ‘at prove it?”

Smiling, Trevor looked down at Brandon. “Yeah, it’s Frank. You remember that app he got that put out the bat signal?” Brandon nodded. “Well, I’m lookin’ at it right now. So either Commissioner Gordon’s tryin’ to reach Batman or it’s Frank.”

“Well alright then!” Brandon leaned up, yelling out the window. “Come around to the side. We’ll make sure ya get in.”

Smiling, Frank pushed his cell phone back in his pocket, waddling in the direction of the building.

Turning from the window, Trevor reached out, grabbing Brandon’s arm. “Ya think he’s safe? One person sick is enough.”

Brandon shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “Well, there’s only one way to find out. Let’s go make sure he gets in okay.”

“I wonder where he’s been.”

He smirked. “Maybe he was up a tree.”

They headed for the kitchen and stopped short, surprised to see Candice and Sophia awake. They were at the table with the ashtray between them overflowing.

Trevor blinked. “Holy shit, give someone heart failure. What are you two still doin’ up?”

Smirking, Candice looked at him. “Hmm, considering you are on watch, you should already know that.”

Brandon opened the door. “How’s Erica doin’?”

Sitting back, stretching, Sophia shrugged. “She doesn’t look good. She’s in a lotta pain. I feel bad cause there’s nothin’ I can do for her. She’s developed a rash on ‘er face. I can’t be sure what that’s from.”

Candice shook her head. “I don’t remember Todd having a rash.”

Trevor glanced in, looking at her from his post outside. “Are ya any closer to figurin’ out why this happened or how we can avoid it?”

Sophia shook her head. “No, I won’t be able to do that until we get to a lab. For now, all I can do is watch an’ take notes.” She motioned to them with her hand. “What are ya doin’ out there?”

Brandon smiled. “Our buddy Frank’s alive.”

“He’s
alive
? Praise the lord! Where’s he been?”

“I dunno, but we’re gonna find out.”

Trevor sighed. “Hey Doc, ya wanna check ‘im out? Make sure he’s not carryin’ somethin’ in?”

Sophia shrugged. “I can try. I’m not sure I can judge it on sight. I’m good, but I don’t think I’m
that
good.”

Brandon smiled. “Well, just do the best ya can.”

Frank rushed in and they quickly shut the door behind him. He tracked mud and leaves in with every step. “Oh my God, thank you, Lord, for ordinary people! Dude! Did you guys see Tiffany? She was chewin’ on a
hand
. An
actual
real human hand, ya know! She tried to get me. I didn’t stick around!”

“I’ll turn the generator on so ya can get cleaned up. We’ll find ya somethin’ to wear. I’ll fix ya somethin’ to eat.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea! I’m starvin’! I haven’t eaten anythin’ since,” he paused, thinking about when he ate last. “Well, since yesterday. I swear my stomach’s gnawin’ away at my backbone.” He walked off to the showers, leaving behind a trail of dirt, mud, and leaves.

“I’m not cleaning that up,” Candice told Trevor and Brandon.

Sophia grinned. “Neither am I.”

Trevor waited until Frank left before turning to Sophia. “So, what do ya think? Does he have anythin’ we should be worried about?”

“I can’t tell where he starts an’ the mud ends.”

“I don’t think he’s got anything.” Candice stood, walking over to get more coffee.

Sophia looked at her, curiously. “How can ya be so sure?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t see anythin’ but mud an’ leaves,” Trevor agreed.

She shrugged, pouring the sugar. “Well, look at the way he’s acting. He’s starving. Todd wouldn’t eat. Erica won’t touch food. That boy’s ready to chow down.”

Nodding, Sophia blinked. “Wow. She’s right. He’s hungry.”

“It’s just what I see.”

“Well, it’s good to know he’s normal.” Trevor pointed at Brandon. “Hey, ya wanna go wake Justice. He’s on watch next. He slept longer ‘an four hours. I’m gonna get somethin’ to eat.”

Shaking his head, Brandon snickered. “Hell no. You go wake grumpy. I’m startin’ breakfast. No snacks either. That’ll ruin your appetite.”

“Dude, ya sound like my mom.”

Candice laughed. “I thought the same thing!”

Brandon looked at the two of them. “I know who wants to clean up after breakfast.”

“Goin’… goin’… It
was
funny.” Trevor winked at Candice before walking down the hall.

“I know who’s gonna be washin’ the dishes.” Candice continued to snicker. Sophia joined in. “Make that two of you,” Brandon yelled from the kitchen, which made them laugh harder.