Savage (20 page)

“Cody, c'mon!” Sidney screamed, stamping down on one of the four rats that surged at her, the remaining three darting back before attempting to come at her from another angle.

The thought of how many rats had been on the poor guy made her sick to her stomach. Getting hit by Cody's truck would have been a blessing.

Cody ran away from the body, a line of gray-bodied vermin trailing after him as if attached by some invisible wire. Snowy wanted to go after more of them, her hunter's instinct in full view, but Sidney was afraid that even the shepherd would have become overwhelmed by the crazy number.

Mere inches from reaching them, Cody went down. He cried out in pain as he pitched forward, falling hard upon his chest. There was a cluster of rats on his legs, scurrying up his back to reach his head and neck. Sidney saw no other choice and let Snowy free, the dog instinctively reacting, bounding to Cody's aid. The rats attempted to defend themselves against the dog, but Snowy was just too fast, savaging the rodents as they swarmed.

But the rats' numbers were growing, now coming out from the woods on either side of the road.

Sidney helped Cody up from the ground. “All right?” she asked as she pulled him by the arm. He lurched and stumbled.

“Twisted something,” he said, face contorted in discomfort as he struggled to his feet.

Cody was standing, and while she helped him to remain upright, she looked toward her dog, signaling Snowy to come. But Snowy wasn't looking; instead she was facing off against the continuous advance of rats, ripped and broken bodies—trophies—piled at her paws.

“Can you stand by yourself?” she asked Cody, slipping out from beneath his arm. He acknowledged that he could, and she ran to the side of the road, looking for something that she could use as a weapon. Prepared to do whatever she had to in order to ensure the safety of her friends and dog, she found a thick piece of broken tree limb and went to join her dog. Hoping to buy them some time to get back to the truck, she screamed like a maniac, throwing the piece of tree into the midst of the gathering rodents, dispersing them.

“C'mon, girl!” she yelled, grabbing hold of the dog's collar and giving it a solid yank, but Snowy did not want to go. The dog planted her feet, ready to protect those she loved from the potential onslaught.

Sidney hadn't even heard Rich as he ran up from behind, throwing the fiery, hissing end of a road flare into the path of the advancing rat swarm.

The heat and flame seemed to confuse them, driving them back.

But the moment was only temporary.

“The truck!” Rich screamed as he turned away from the rats and started to run.

Sidney gave Snowy's collar a solid yank, and this time she obeyed, trotting alongside her master as they all ran back to the truck. She attempted to help Cody, but he assured her that he was fine, limping slightly in front of them to haul open the driver's-side door.

Sidney watched with a mixture of complete fascination and horror as the rats converged upon the flare, multiple plump rat bodies swarming upon its burning end, extinguishing the fire before turning their full attention to them once again.

“Get in!” Cody urged, and she listened, allowing Snowy to hop in first, with she and Rich climbing in behind her. Cody returned to the driver's seat, slamming the door closed just as the first wave of rats reached the truck.

They looked out through the driver's-side window at the rats and were struck by the insanity of what they saw. The rats were all perfectly still, watching them through the truck's windows.

“Look at their right eyes,” Rich said.

In what little light there was they could still see it—a shiny covering glistening over the right eyes of every single one of the rodents. It was just like the raccoon and the other animals that had attacked them.

“What are they waiting for?” Cody asked.

Sidney could feel their beady eyes, like bugs on her skin.

“I don't know and I don't want to know,” she said. “Let's get the hell out of—”

There were noises, soft dinging sounds reminiscent of a cooling engine.

“They're underneath the truck,” Cody suddenly announced, turning the key in the ignition and slamming the car into drive. “I know what they're doing. They're trying to figure out how to get inside,” he said, gunning the engine and heading down the road, leaving the swarm, and Rich's boat, behind. “But I'm not about to give them a chance.”

Doc Martin sat smoking a cigarette, surrounded by the dead.

She'd been back to the kennels four times, carefully taking potentially affected animals from their cages, euthanizing them, and cutting open their skulls, looking for a pattern.

With each case, she found the same thing: a strange growth affecting the entire brain but connecting directly to the optic nerve and seemingly altering the function of the right eye.

She brought the cigarette to her mouth and took a puff, blowing the smoke into the air above her head, wallowing in the implications of what she had found.

What could possibly be responsible for this mutation—that was what she believed it to be—and how had it affected all the animals at her hospital?

Her thoughts began to creep outside the self-contained universe of the hospital, and she felt the cold fingers of icy dread grip her heart. If what she had witnessed in here was happening out there, in the town . . .

Doc Martin dropped the cigarette to the floor and stomped out its still-burning tip as she stood. Going to the box on the counter, she found herself a new syringe and retrieved the bottle of pentobarbital used for euthanasia, slipping it into the pocket of her lab coat. She grabbed the heavy towel that she'd used to remove the insanely violent animals from their cages and headed back through her office to the kennels.

She needed to be sure before she allowed herself to panic.

Doc Martin wondered how many more would need to be put down and necropsied before she was absolutely convinced of her findings.

As many as there were left in the kennel was the sad answer.

Cody took the corner leading down into the marina parking lot a little too fast, and the back end of the truck skidded across the wet surface of the road as he gunned the engine.

“Take it easy, Code,” Sidney said. “All we need is to crack up the truck. Then where would we be.”

“Yeah,” Cody responded flatly.

He drove down into the parking lot, taking a side road that went along the back of the property leading to his house. Pulling into the driveway, he then backed the truck up, putting it parallel to the steps before the front door.

“You guys stay here,” he said, putting the car in park but leaving the engine running.

“Wait a sec,” Sidney said, grabbing his arm. “We're going with you.”

“I think it would be better if you stay here,” he reasoned. “I'm just going to run in, find him, and drag him back out.”

Rich pressed his head against the passenger-side widow, attempting to look out through the torrential rain. “What if you run into trouble?” he asked.

“Good question, Rich,” Sidney replied. She noticed that she was still holding on to Cody's biceps and slowly released her hold on him.

“That's why I think you should stay here,” he told them. “If there's trouble, I'm going to need somebody to save my ass.”

She wasn't crazy about his plan, but he reassured her.

“Seriously, I'll be in and out,” he said, opening the door to a rush of cool, salty air. “And besides, there shouldn't be any problem—I don't have any pets.”

He gave her a hint of a reassuring smile as he slipped from the driver's seat and slammed the door closed. Sidney watched him as he crossed in front of the truck, climbing the stairs two at a time before reaching the door and going inside.

It seemed as though he was in there forever.

“Do you think we should go in?” Sidney asked, petting Snowy nervously, her eyes never leaving the slightly open front door.

“No, give him a little while,” Rich said. “He probably has to fill his dad in as to what's going on before coming out.”

“Never mind the fact that his father will probably think he's on crack or something,” Sidney offered.

“There is that,” Rich said with an agreeing nod. He then looked away from the view of the front door, across the driveway, and down into the marina parking lot.

“What's going on over there?” Rich asked.

Sidney looked in the general direction and saw that there was a light inside the office flashing off and on.

“Is the power back on?” she asked, looking around for more signs that this was the case, but not seeing anything.

“The marina probably has a generator,” Rich said, watching the light go on and off. “I think somebody might be trying to signal us.”

Rich leaned over Snowy and Sidney and tapped the horn three times.

“What are you doing?” she asked him, not sure if it was a smart thing to draw attention to themselves.

“I think Cody should know about the light in the office,” Rich said, watching the door for signs of their friend. He was going to beep the horn again when Cody came out the front and down the steps.

Rich rolled down the window. “Somebody's flashing the light in the marina office.”

Cody looked in the direction, seeing the light being turned on and then off and then on again. Sidney was surprised when he started across the slightly wooded area and down the hill into the parking lot.

“What the hell is he doing?” she asked. “Is he freaking insane?”

Quickly she slid over in the seat, getting behind the wheel of the truck and putting it in drive.

Halfway down the hill to the marina parking lot Cody realized that what he was doing probably wasn't the smartest of things, especially given the current situation.

His father hadn't been in the house. He'd thought maybe he had gone up to bed early, but the second floor was as empty as the first. It didn't look as though his father had been home.

The relief he'd experienced when Rich pointed out the flashing light in the marina office was huge, momentarily canceling out his common sense.

Cody sped up his pace as he reached the lot. He kept his eyes on the front door to the office, and how the lights continued to flash off and on, and was startled—coming to a sudden stop—as the door came flying open and his father appeared in the doorway.

Cody raised his hand in greeting and was about to call out to the man when he saw that his father was yelling something to him that he couldn't quite hear over the storm.

Then he noticed the blood on his father's hands and the cuts that now adorned his face.

And was finally able to understand what it was that his father was yelling.

He was telling him to run.

Panic gripped him, and Cody started to look around the parking lot for any signs of trouble, while continuing toward the office. He started to run across the rain-swept parking lot, then felt his blood temporarily freeze in his veins, stopping him cold, as he saw something moving out from beneath a parked car. It turned out to be an empty potato chip bag caught in the stream of rainwater, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he continued toward his father.

His dad still stood frozen in the doorway, and the closer he got, the more he saw the look of absolute horror on the older man's face. Cody wanted to tell him that everything was all right, that he and his friends were here to take him with them, but then he realized that his father wasn't looking
at
him—

He was looking above him.

He heard the sound coming closer and looked up just in time to see the huge seagull as it descended, sharp yellow beak pecking at his scalp. Cody cried out at the sudden pain from his head, arms thrashing above him to drive away the attacking bird. And where there had only been one before, now there were many, their powerful wings beating the air as they dove to attack.

It was like being in the center of a tornado, the flock of seabirds swirling around, pecking and slapping him with their powerful wings.

Cody could feel the warmth of his own blood as it ran down his neck and back. He raised his hands above his head in an attempt to ward off the birds' assault, but those too became objects of their attacks.

Blinking the blood from his eyes, he saw his father about to move from the front door. Gulls were swooping to attack him as well, and Cody screamed for him to get back inside the office.

The birds seemed to be making a conscious effort to take his own eyes, pulling at the soft flesh of his cheeks as he tried to get to cover. The pain was beyond words, and Cody felt his frustration and rage blossom. He reached up, blindly grabbing hold of anything he could—a wing, leg, or neck—to squeeze and twist before tossing the broken animal to the ground.

But for each one he took out, six more swooped in to take its place.

Cody kept his eyes tightly closed, wanting to hold on to his sight for as long as possible. He hoped that he was traveling in the right direction.

His father called out, and he tried to respond, to tell the man to protect himself, but a gull was suddenly at his face, a sharp yellow beak darting between his lips, attempting to snatch his tongue away like a fat worm. Cody went wild, swinging his arms, but with his eyes closed, he lost his balance, falling to the wet pavement on all fours.

The gulls did not let up, touching down upon his back and pecking at the soft, exposed flesh of his neck.

Cody was unable to rise, the multiple feathered bodies attacking relentlessly, but he knew that he had to keep moving. He started to crawl across the lot, hoping that he was heading in the direction of his father's office. The gulls' numbers were so great that he could no longer move, and he curled himself into a tight ball, wrapping his arms about his head in an attempt to protect his eyes and face.