Authors: Robin T. Popp
Tags: #Fiction, #Ghost, #Romance, #General, #Horror
Like the side, this area had been cleared of trees and brush, but a huge metal cage, like one would find at the zoo, stood in the very middle.
There appeared to be something inside, but with the growing shadows of dusk, it was impossible to tell exactly what it was. Moving closer, Lanie made out what looked like the statue of a gargoyle.
Unfamiliar with the different cultural beliefs of the South Americans, she was unsure if the statue was religious or decorative, but she was intrigued by its appearance. It sat hunched on its disproportionately large hind legs like a big cat. All four legs ended in three-toed claws, and a row of sharp fins ran down its head and back. A caninelike muzzle protruded from its round face, with two three-inch fangs extending from its upper jaw. The oval eyes appeared too large for its head and gave the statue an almost demonic, alien appearance.
As the sun sank lower in the sky, shadows danced across the cage, making the statue appear almost alive. Intrigued, Lanie tried the handle of the door.
"Why would they keep a statue locked in a cage?" she mused, more to herself than to Mac. "I want to take a closer look." She searched for a way to unlock the door.
"Look at it tomorrow, when the light is better," Mac ordered. "We still have half the grounds to search."
She didn't even glance at him as she dragged her foot across the grass, feeling for a dropped key or some hidden mechanism. "Those men have been dead awhile. Whatever killed them is gone, or we'd be dead now, too." She paused when her toe hit something. Bending down, she moved the grass aside and found a small remote-control box. Picking it up, she saw an on/off switch. "I found it."
"Wait," Mac hollered at her, but it was too late. She'd already flipped the lever. The sound of a bolt shooting back echoed ominously in the silence, causing the hairs on the back of Lanie's neck to prickle. She tensed, expecting something to spring out of the cage at them. Beside her, Mac stood with his gun ready.
Time seemed to stop as in the distance a bird cawed and a gentle breeze stirred the leaves of the surrounding trees, creating a gentle rustling sound.
Lanie gave Mac a withering look for scaring her and moved past him to the cage's entrance, where she hesitated only a moment before continuing on in.
The statue was fascinating. The masonry work was so detailed and fine that it gave the piece a lifelike appearance. Intrigued, Lanie pressed a finger against it and found the rough surface cool to the touch.
"It's amazing," she breathed when Mac came to stand by her side.
"Yeah. Can we go?"
Her gaze traveled to the statue's face, mesmerized by the craftsmanship that was so exquisite she could practically see the eyes glowing red in the darkness and drops of moisture running down the long, deadly fangs.
Then the eyes blinked.
Lanie felt herself pushed roughly to the ground and looked up to see a nightmare come to life. Though he struggled, Mac could not escape the creature that held him so effortlessly in its front claws. With his arms pinned to his sides, the gun he held was useless.
Horrified, she watched the creature draw him close and lower its mouth to his neck. She saw the fangs pierce the skin, but it was the sound of blood being sucked from Mac's body that catapulted her into action.
Lying on the ground where it had fallen was the search lamp. Crawling over, she grabbed it and, standing so that she faced the creature, pulled the trigger. The sudden brightness of the beam pierced the night and the creature reared back, in that moment releasing its hold on Mac.
Lanie held the beam steady with one hand and wrapped her other arm around Mac as he fell against her. She wasn't sure if he was alive or dead as she struggled to support his weight.
As the creature tried to shield itself from the light, Lanie frantically cast her eyes about for something else to use as a weapon. The sudden explosion and reverberation of Mac's gun startled her as he discharged his weapon into the creature's belly.
"Again," she shouted, seeing the creature stumble back. Mac fired a second time, but the shot went wild. He grew too heavy to hold and slid to the ground.
His ashen face was in stark contrast to the blood covering his neck and clothes. His eyes were closed, and his gun rested in a grip gone slack. Fear and anger raged within her and she grabbed the gun, turning it on the creature. A Texas girl, she knew a hell of a lot more about guns than she'd led Mac to believe.
Firing one-handed would be difficult, but not impossible, and there was no way she was letting go of the light. She pulled the trigger. At this range, the creature was a hard target to miss, and she didn't stop until the clicking of an empty weapon finally registered.
The creature lay on the ground, unmoving. She knew she should check to make sure it was dead, but Mac was at her feet, bleeding to death—if he wasn't already dead.
Ears ringing from the sound of the gun, she cast the beam of the lamp over the creature one last time to make sure it wasn't moving. She didn't want to put down the lamp, but she couldn't pull Mac out of the cage one-handed. She wasn't sure she could pull him out at all. Tucking the gun into the back of her pants, she found the trigger-lock on the lamp and laid it outside the cage on the ground, shining in.
Hurrying back inside, she grabbed Mac by the ankles. He was almost too heavy for her to drag, but there was no way she was leaving him there. As soon as she had his body out of the cage, she slammed the door shut and activated the lock.
There was no time to relax. With effort, she ripped off the sleeve of her shirt and wrapped the material around Mac's neck, hoping to staunch the flow of blood until she could get him inside. Next, she lifted Mac's wrist and felt for a pulse. Thankfully, she found one. It was weak, but at least he was alive, though he wouldn't be for long if she didn't do something. He'd lost so much blood, it would take a miracle to save him.
Lanie had no idea where the nearest medical facility was and knew that even if she called for medical assistance, they couldn't get there any sooner than the team already on its way. She'd have to treat Mac herself.
Remembering the medical supplies they'd found inside the building, Lanie made up her mind. He was too big for her to use a fireman's carry, so stooping behind him, she squatted until she could leverage Mac into a sitting position and slipped her arms underneath his armpits. Locking her hands together across his chest, she stood and began the strenuous task of dragging him into the building, keeping up a constant dialogue. "Hang in there, Mac." "You're going to be okay." "Stay with me."
It felt like it took forever, and Lanie was sure that every second cost Mac a little more of his life. Finally, she managed to drag him through the halls to the lab, and there, her strength ran out. Unable to lift him onto the gurney, she left him on the floor and set to work gathering the supplies she needed, giving a silent prayer of thanks when she found the collection of bagged blood in the refrigerator.
She didn't know Mac's blood type, but knew if she found type "O," the universal donor, then it wouldn't matter. For a change, luck was with her. Mixed in with an assortment of animal blood, she found several units of human blood, types "AB" and "O."
She crossed to the sink and filled it with hot water. Then she placed the bags of "O" into the basin to warm while she searched the drawers and cabinets for the rest of the supplies she'd need. She was about to execute a very crude blood transfusion that under different circumstances she would never have considered attempting without a physician's guidance, but she knew Mac would be long dead by the time other help arrived. She was his only chance.
Praying she wasn't about to speed his way to death, she removed the warmed blood from the sink and set to work finding a vein. Working carefully, she inserted the large TV needle, secured it in place with tape, and then opened the clamp on the tubing. Almost immediately, the blood began to flow into his body.
Lanie bit her lip, knowing there were so many things that could go wrong and he might still die. As she waited for the first bag to empty, she cleaned away the blood on his neck and saw there wasn't a gaping wound as she'd feared, only two very large punctures.
Just like the other bodies
, she thought, except these holes were bigger and spaced farther apart.
She treated the wounds with antibiotic ointment, covered them with gauze, and taped it all in place.
When the first bag was empty, she clamped off the IV, hooked up a second bag, and started over again.
All through the night she watched over him, bathing his head, replacing each spent bag of blood with a fresh one. By early morning, it seemed that his breathing was steadier and the color was returning to his complexion.
Sitting on the floor next to him, Lanie finally allowed herself to relax. Placing both the guard's loaded gun and Mac's empty gun on the floor beside her, she leaned back against the wall and let her eyes close.
"Miss Weber? Wake up, ma'am."
Lanie's eyes snapped open at the sound, her hand reaching automatically for a gun that was no longer there. Alarmed, she blinked several times to bring the face of the man bending over her into focus. "Who are… ?" Her voice cracked, and she had to clear her throat before trying again. "Who are you?"
"Captain Sanchez, United States Navy, ma'am. I'm a physician." He made a show of setting her missing guns off to the side. "I'm here to help. Admiral Winslow sent us."
As the cogwheels of her mind finally started to turn, she nodded and relaxed.
"Are you injured? Hurt in any way?" Dr. Sanchez asked, turning to the black bag open at his side and pulling out a stethoscope to slip around his neck.
"No, I'm fine."
"Good. Maybe you need some more sleep, though?" He didn't wait for her answer, but knelt and began running his hands along Mac's arms and legs, feeling gingerly for broken bones.
"This is Captain Knight?" He glanced at her and when she nodded, he slipped the earpieces of the scope into his ears and listened to Mac's heart and lungs.
"Did you say
Captain
Knight?"
"Yes, ma'am. Captain Michael Knight. Retired, I believe."
His comment was followed by a moment of silence as he continued to listen. Next, he pulled the stethoscope from his ears and checked Mac's pulse while keeping track of the time on his wristwatch. From the outer room came the faint sounds of men shouting orders.
Seemingly satisfied, Dr. Sanchez lowered the wrist he'd been holding. Shifting his position, he peeled the bandages off Mac's neck. "Are these the only injuries?"
Lanie nodded. "He was attacked by a…" She hesitated. How could she tell him that the statue had come to life? "I don't know what kind of animal it was. It pierced his jugular vein, I think. Anyway, he lost a lot of blood."
"What happened to the creature?"
"I shot it."
He raised an eyebrow and gave her an appreciative look before turning his attention to the empty bags of blood and discarded tubing on the floor. "You gave him a transfusion?"
She nodded. "I didn't know what else to do. I thought he was going to die."