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Authors: Ray Garton

Bestial (20 page)

BOOK: Bestial
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“I’ll go inside and get her keys,” Gavin said. “We can move them both together, then we’ll go inside.” He turned to Karen. “Go on in and see if you can manage to talk to her about that, uh, monster.”

Karen nodded once, turned, and went inside with Gavin.

 

“I don’t understand,” the receptionist said, eyes narrowing slightly. “You want to talk to the
patient
?”

Karen read the receptionist’s nametag, then smiled pleasantly. “I understand if she’s not available at the moment, Winona, but it’s very important that I have a word with her as soon as she is. It’s regarding the conversation we had with Dr. Dinescu. My partner and I came to discuss the outbreak of animal attacks in this area.”

Winona nodded knowingly. “Oh, yes. There’ve been quite a few.”

“I think the woman in there—the one who was hit by the car—might know something. I think she was being attacked by an animal when she was hit.”

“Reeeaaally?” Winona said, frowning. “Well, I can see how she’s doing. Maybe she can have a visitor now.” She stood. “Be right back.”

Sighing, Karen seated herself in the chair before receptionist’s window and waited. There was a sudden commotion back beyond the window and a voice screamed in pain while another shouted, “Help her, for God’s sake,
do
something,
help
her!” She sat there and listened to the racket for a few minutes, until Winona finally returned.

“She’s in a booth right now and Dr. Dinescu is preoccupied with another patient,” she said. “He said a visitor might help calm her down, so why don’t you come on back. But please, don’t do or say anything to upset her because she’s kind of agitated as it is.”

Another painful wail rose from the back, followed by a woman shouting, “You don’t have
time
for that, goddammit!”

“Come to the door,” Winona said, then she disappeared.

Karen went to the door to the left of the window and Winona let her in. As she walked through the door, another scream tore through the ER.

“What’s going on?” Karen said, nearly whispering.

“A young woman in labor,” Winona said. “They may not have time to get her to maternity.”

Winona led her through a short hall, then into one end of the Emergency room and to the first in a row of curtained-off booths. To the right, the room opened up into a larger, brightly-lit area. Beyond the short counter to the far right, behind which an officious-looking woman sat, frantic activity caught Karen’s eye, and she saw Bob standing nearby, eyes bulging in his pale, slack-jawed face as he stood frozen in place, clearly afraid and uncertain. But she didn’t have time to stop and look—Winona pulled the thin, pale green curtain aside and led her into the booth.

“Hannah?” Winona said. “I have someone who’d like to see you. Is that okay?”

The woman on the table said, “A visitor? Really? I don’t mind. I’d
like
a visitor.” Her voice was hoarse and weak. She still wore her dirty clothes and had the stabilizing collar around her neck. Her backpack was slumped on a small plastic chair.

Winona gave Karen a quick smile as she left.

Karen went to Hannah’s side and smiled down at her. “My name is Karen Moffett.”

“Hi, Karen. The doctor says I’m gonna have to have X-rays. I’m just waitin’ for ‘em to come and get me.”

The screams continued beyond the curtain.

“Sounds like somebody’s really hurtin’ out there,” Hannah said. “Guess I’m pretty lucky.”

“The man who hit you—”

”Oh, he was a nice man. He saved me, y’know. I mean, I know he hit me with his car, an’ all, only ‘cause I ran right in front of him scared outta my life, but really, he
saved
me.”

It was obvious that Hannah was rather simple-minded. She looked to be in her mid-forties, but her voice and manner of speaking were child-like. Her narrow face was weathered and lined, eyes deep-set. Strands of grey ran through her long, filthy brown hair.

“What did he save you from, Hannah?” Karen said.

“The thing that was chasin’ me.”

“And... what was that?”

“Some kinda monster. A big thing. Hairy. And it had big fangs, and
silver eyes
. See, there’s a little coffee shop on Beachview, the Sand Dollar. Right next to the Lighthouse Motel. It’s just a dinky little place, real old and rundown. Sometimes I go there ‘bout closin’ time. The owner, he’s a real nice guy named Zeke. Sometimes if I show up, he’ll give me a free meal. Whatever’s left over from the day, y’know? So I was on my way there, walkin’ through—”

The screams beyond the curtain got worse.

Dr. Dinescu snapped, “Goddammit, Ted get her to maternity before—”

”I said you don’t have
time
for that!” the girl’s mother shouted. “That baby’s coming
now
, damn you, and you’d better—

“Okay, Ted, get over here,” the doctor said.

Hannah stopped talking a moment and listened to the commotion. “Sounds like somebody’s ‘bout to have a baby, huh?” she whispered.

Karen nodded.

“Anyways, uh... what was I sayin’? Oh, I know. I was walkin’ through the patch of woods beside Beachview, down by the beach, when I hear somethin’. Whatever it is, it’s movin’ along with me in the dark. Scared the hell outta me, y’know? I got this flashlight, see. I don’t use it often ‘cause I don’t like to run down the batteries, but I took it outta my pack and turned it on, looked around to see what was makin’ that noise.”

The curtain was pulled aside and Gavin joined Karen in the booth.

“Hannah, this is my friend Gavin,” Karen said.

Hannah smiled. “Hi, Gavin. Did you come to visit me, too?”

Gavin tossed an uncertain glance at Karen, then smiled down at Hannah and said, “Sure.”

Karen said, “Hannah was telling me about the, uh, thing that was trying to attack her when she ran in front of Bob’s car.” When Gavin nodded, Karen turned to Hannah again and said, “Go on.”

“Well, with my flashlight, I got a look at it,” Hannah continued. “Not a
great
look, but it was good enough. It was a big hairy thing. Scary as all get-out. A big snout with long fangs. And silver eyes.
Silver eyes
! And I could
smell
it. A stinky animal smell, like at the circus, or somethin’, y’know what I mean? It growled and came after me and I ran for my life. When that man hit me—”

Voices raised beyond the curtain.

“What do you mean
three months
?” Dr. Dinescu shouted.

“That’s what she says,” the mother replied.

“Well, that’s
impossible
!”

“It’s coming!” another voice shouted.

There was a bustle of movement as the girl continued to scream in pain.

“Hope everything’s okay out there,” Hannah said. “Anyways, that man hit me and saved my life. If he hadn’t, that thing woulda got me, I just know it. It was gonna eat me.”

“Push, push!” Dr. Dinescu said.

“It’s coming, everything’s fine, honey,” the mother said in breathless reassurance.

Hannah said, “I don’t know what that thing was, but it sure weren’t no regular animal. It was standin’ up, like a person. I never seen nothin’ like it before.”

More calls of, “Push! Push!” came from beyond the curtain.

“How tall was it?” Gavin asked.

“Taller’n me, I know that. I couldn’t tell you ‘zactly how tall, though.” She winced and released a sharp breath.

“Are you in pain, Hannah?” Karen said.

“My leg’s hurtin’. My leg and hip. I feel okay otherwise, though, you don’t gotta worry ‘bout me.” She gave Karen a lopsided smile.

“As soon as they’re finished out there,” Karen said, nodding toward the curtain, “I’m sure Dr. Dinescu will take good care of you.”

“Is it breathing?” the pregnant girl’s mother asked worriedly. “Is it okay? Is it a boy or girl?”

An indecipherable blur of voices and words followed and rapidly grew louder. Then, another scream filled the Emergency Room. It was a man screaming in pain and fear and it came again and again, quickly followed by the screams of a woman, and then another woman. Something clattered to the floor as footsteps scrambled.

“Oh, Jesus!” Dr. Dinescu screamed.

Karen and Gavin quickly turned, tossed the curtain aside, and left the booth. Each of them gasped loudly. They were not prepared for what they found on the other side.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

Night Visitor

 

 

While Bob and Gretchen were driving their passengers to the Emergency Room, George Purdy was in his cabin cooking a stew on his woodstove. He was listening to a call-in talk show on a San Francisco radio station. The topic of discussion was the war on terror. The host was a very funny, sharply intelligent gay man engaged in a heated argument with an extreme right-wing caller who was very angry. George went to the stove and lifted the lid on the pot. As he stirred the stew, a noise made him jerk, made his back stiffen. He heard it even above the voices on the radio. He put the lid back on the pot, hurried across the room, and killed the radio. He cocked his head and listened carefully.

It had been a solid
thump
right outside the front of the cabin. He stood motionless and listened.

It came again, more distinct this time—movement just outside the door.

George’s veins flowed with ice water and gooseflesh spread over his shoulders and back as he stared at the door. Getting ahold of himself, he took three quick steps and snatched up the .45 automatic that was always on the small table near the door. The gun was loaded with silver-tipped rounds. As he held the cold grip in his hand and stared at the door, he hoped Arlin Hurley had been right about silver being effective against the creatures that had taken over Big Rock.

A tentative knock at the door made George’s breath catch in his throat like a fishbone.

Nobody knows I’m here,
he thought.

He opened his mouth to ask,
Who is it?
but he had no voice. His mouth was suddenly dry. He tried to stir up some spit and swallow, but it turned into a loud, dry gulp.

The knock came again, harder this time. Then a cautious voice:

“George? Are you in there?”

It was a woman.

He moved close to the door and put his eye to the peep-hole. The face on the other side, distorted by the tiny lens, was unfamiliar at first. She was pretty, with long dark brown hair, smooth skin, full lips. The longer he looked at her, the more familiar she became. He’d seen her before...
somewhere
... but he could not put his finger on where, on who she was.

“George, it’s me,” she said. “Ella.”

Ella?
he thought, frowning.
Do I know an Ella?

It came to him in an eye-widening rush—Ella Hurley! But she looked different. Younger, prettier than usual. She appeared to have shed ten years from her age and her hair color was different. But it was
Ella
!

“Ella?” he said loudly, surprised.

“Let me in, George. We need to talk.”

He instinctively reached out to unlock all the locks he had on the door, but jerked his hand back as if he’d been burned. What did she want? How did she find him? Most of all, he had to wonder if she was
safe
.

“What, uh... what do you want, Ella?” he asked, moving very close to the door until his cheek lightly touched the wood.

“I want to talk to you, George. It’s important.”

“Talk to me... about what?” He could not keep his fear from creeping into his voice.

“I’m not going to hurt you, George. I promise.”

He gulped again. “How did you find me?”

“I couldn’t find you anywhere else, so I thought you might have come here. You brought us up here once. Arlin and me. Remember?”

He had brought them up to the cabin a few summers ago. He’d shown them around and they’d had a picnic lunch in the yard.

George scrubbed a hand down his face and took a deep breath as his stomach wound into tight knots. “Look, Ella, I’m just... I don’t know what to... “ His hand clutched the grip of the .45 tightly. “Where have you been? What happened to you after Arlin... after he was... “ He cleared his throat, stood up straight, steeled himself. When he spoke again, his voice was firm, resolute. “Where have you
been
, Ella.

“I’ll tell you everything, George, I promise. Just let me in. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m on your side.”

A long silence stretched out between them in which George did not move, just stared at the door.

“I’m here for Arlin,” Ella said. “I want to make them pay for what they did to him, George.”

It was so good to hear her voice—a voice with which he associated fond memories, a pleasant, friendly voice that reminded him of a time when his life was safe and mundane, when he could relax and read a good book by John D. McDonald or Mickey Spillane and all would be right with the world. That time seemed so long ago.

BOOK: Bestial
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