F Paul Wilson - Sims 04 (4 page)

BOOK: F Paul Wilson - Sims 04
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“Duke?”
Ponytail said. He placed the
inoculator
kit on the coffee table next to the recorder and retrieved the pistol from
under his suit coat. “Duke, are you okay?”

 
          
No
answer from the bedroom.

 
          
Ponytail
edged toward the doorway, pointing his pistol at
Romy’s
head. “I don’t know what kind of shit’s going down here, but if anything
untoward happens, you go first.”

 
          
The
first thought that ran though Patrick’s mind was, Untoward? Did he really say
untoward ?

 
          
Ponytail
reached the doorway. He peeked around the molding and suddenly cried out,
reeling back as Duke’s limp body came flying out of the room to crash against
him. He grunted as he tumbled to the floor, his pistol discharging and sending
a bullet over
Romy’s
head to punch a fist-size chunk
of plaster out of the wall above one of the windows.

 
          
He
didn’t get a chance for a second shot because Duke’s body wasn’t the only thing
flying through the doorway. Something else followed directly behind—a snarling,
barrel-chested apparition in a sleeveless black coverall, its furry, black-eyed
head split open to reveal yellow teeth and a pair of huge fangs in the upper
jaw. But even more frightening was the scarlet coloring that blazed along its
upper snout as it flew through the air, long arms outstretched, fingers curved
into claws.

 
          
Ponytail
let out a panicked bleat at the sight of it, and Patrick caught an odd light in
the man’s eyes; shock and terror, yes, but something else: recognition.

 
          
He
tried to bring his pistol around but it was knocked from his grasp and sent
skittering across the floor.

 
          
He
wailed, “
Kree
—!” but whatever he intended to say was
choked off as long fingers wrapped around his throat and squeezed.

 
          
Patrick
was just registering that they might be in worse trouble now than a moment ago,
when
Romy
started talking to the thing.

 
          

Kek
!
Don’t kill him,
Kek
! We need him alive!”

 
          
“You
know this thing?”

 
          
She
didn’t respond but stayed focused on the creature that continued to throttle
Ponytail. The man’s mouth worked spasmodically as his eyes bulged and his face
purpled.

 
          

Kek
!
Let go! Let go now!”

 
          
Finally
her words seemed to get through to the thing. It released its stranglehold and
leaped up, but it didn’t stay still, didn’t seem able to. It wandered back and
forth, growling, flailing at the air, as if working off a rage. On the floor,
Ponytail coughed and retched, sucking in air, but it was purely reflexive. He was
out cold.

 
          
As
for Duke, he wasn’t breathing at all. And the unnatural angle of his head on
his shoulders made it clear that he would never breathe again.

 
          
Nipple-twisting
bastard, Patrick thought. Good riddance.

 
          
“Good,
Kek
,”
Romy
was saying in a
soothing voice. “You did good, very
good
. Zero will be
so proud of you.”

 
          
That
seemed to calm the beast. It stopped its agitated pacing and cocked its head as
its dark eyes peered at
Romy
from beneath a prominent
brow. The crimson coloring atop its snout was fading. Still staring at
Romy
it made a chirping sound.

 
          
Patrick
didn’t know what to think. It looked like some bizarre sort of gorilla, but
nothing like Patrick had ever seen in any zoo he’d visited. More like a mutant
sim
who’d overdosed on steroids. The creature seemed to be
on their side, but just barely. Patrick had never sensed so much aggression
packed into a single being.

 
          
“What
is that thing,
Romy
?” he whispered.

 
          
“Just
be calm,” she said, nodding and smiling at the creature. “He’s been told you’re
on our side but he doesn’t know you, so he’s not sure of you. Whatever you do,
don’t make any sudden moves.”

 
          
He
glanced down at his duct-taped legs and arms.
“As if I have a
choice.”

 
          
“I’m
about to remedy that.” She looked at the creature. “
Kek
,
you’ve got to cut me free,” she said softly, as if talking to a child. “So I
can call Zero. Use your knife to cut me free.”

 
          
Kek
unsnapped a safety strap from a scabbard attached to
the belt around its waist—Patrick hadn’t noticed the belt till now—and whipped
out one of those huge, saw-toothed Special Forces knives.

 
          
Patrick’s
gut clenched.
“Oh, Christ!
Someone gave that thing a
knife?”

 
          
“Quiet!”
Romy
hissed. “
Kek’s
a ‘he,’
and you owe him.”

 
          
“I
know, but—”

 
          
“I’m
not talking about tonight. Now be quiet and I’ll explain later.” She turned
back to
Kek
and dipped her head toward the tape
around her right arm. “Could you cut that,
Kek
? I
can’t call Zero and tell him what a good job you did until you cut that tape.”

 
          
Kek
loped over and Patrick gasped as the creature raised
the knife and, in a move so casual in manner yet so blindingly fast in
execution, slashed the duct tape with a single thrust. He expected blood to
gush from
Romy’s
wrist, but only the tape parted,
leaving her without a scratch.

 
          
“Good
job!” she said as she wriggled that arm free and began the laborious task of
unwinding the tape trapping her left wrist.

 
          
“Ask
him if you can borrow his knife,” Patrick said.
“To speed
things up.”
Being trapped in this chair was making him claustrophobic.

 
          
She
gave him a rueful smile. “I wouldn’t advise you or anyone else to try to take
Kek’s
knife away from him.
Even if you
say, ‘Pretty please.’”

 
          
She
freed her left and, then began to work on her legs. As she did,
Kek
retreated to a corner where he squatted and watched.

 
          
When
she was finally free she rose and walked away.

 
          
“Hey!”
Patrick said. “What about me?”

 
          
She
stepped through an alcove and Patrick heard the rattle of cutlery from within.
A moment later she emerged holding a wicked looking carving knife.

 
          

Ginsu
,” she said.
“Cuts through tin
cans.”

 
          
“But
will it cut duct tape?”

 
          
“We’ll
see.”

 
          
It
did, of course, and seconds later Patrick was free. He started to rise,
then
sat back down. He looked at the two men on the floor,
one dead,
the
other halfway there, then at the
creature squatting against the wall, watching them, and felt weak, as if
someone had pulled a drainage plug from his ankle and all his energy had run
out.

 
          
“What’s
going on,
Romy
? What have we got ourselves into?”

 
          
“Life!”
she said, turning, bending at the waist, and leaning toward him. “Don’t you
feel alive, more alive than you’ve ever felt in your life?” She held the
Ginsu
blade before her face. “This is it! This is the
cutting edge! This is where your vote is counted! This is where you make a
difference!”

 
          
She’s
high, he thought.
Stoked on adrenaline.
And me?
A total wreck.

 
          
“You’re
very scary right now,” he told her.

 
          
“Am
I?” She straightened. “Sorry. That was someone else talking.”

 
          
“What?”

 
          
“Never mind.”
She pointed to the unconscious man. “Can you
believe it? We’ve finally got one of them!”

 
          
“One
of
who
?”

 
          
“They’re
from Manassas, or whoever’s behind Manassas. And the people behind Manassas are
behind
SimGen
. This blows the lid off, breaks
everything wide open. We’re finally going to get some answers.”

 
          
“What
if he doesn’t want to talk?”

 
          
“Oh,
he’ll talk.” She turned and lifted the
inoculator
from the kit on the coffee table. “Do unto others what they were about to do to
you, right?”

 
          
Patrick
stared at the amber liquid in the vial. They’d been about to inject some of
that into
Romy
and him.

 
          
“You
think that’s the truth drug we heard about? The one they found in the dead
globulin farmers?”

 
          
She
nodded.

Totuus
.
I’d bet my
soul.”

 
          
“And
then what?”

 
          
“I
don’t know.” She gestured to the dead man. “Maybe we’d have ended up like him.”

 
          
“Speaking
of him, how do we explain a dead body to the police?”

 
          
“We
won’t.”

 
          
“We
can’t very well say he broke his own neck.”

 
          
“I’m
sure Zero will have a way to handle it.”

 
          
Romy
picked up her coat from the floor. “
Kek
, you did
good
,” she said
soothingly to the creature as she rummaged in a pocket.

 
          
Patrick
noticed that the red coloration had faded completely from its snout, replaced
now by a bright blue.

 
          
“Can
I ask again: What is he?”

 
          
“Oh,
I’m sorry,” she said as she pulled a phone from the coat pocket. “I’ll
introduce you.”

 
          
“That’s
okay.”

 
          
She
motioned to the creature. “Come over here,
Kek
. I
want you to meet Mister Sullivan.”

 
          
“Really,”
Patrick said out of the corner of his mouth as
Kek
rose and started toward them. Something about this creature stirred a primal
fear in him. And the way its gaze veered to Patrick’s left and right, never
making eye contact, didn’t help. “That’s okay.”

 
          

Kek
,”
Romy
said, “shake hands
with our new friend, Patrick Sullivan. And Patrick, meet the fellow who saved
your life back in October.”

 
          
“My life?
You mean, when we were knocked off the Saw Mill?”

 
          
As
Romy
nodded Patrick relived the moment in the inky
grove as the massive arms of the man named Ricker wrapped around his head and
shoulders, felt them tense as he prepared to snap Patrick’s neck, and then the
sudden release. Moments later, Ricker and his friend were dead.

BOOK: F Paul Wilson - Sims 04
12.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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