The Remedy (11 page)

And charged.

Alex didn’t make it a single foot before she tangled her ankle in the gnarly grasp of a tree root and was yanked to the ground. Her scream died as the solid ground knocked all of the air from her lungs. Dazed, she lifted her head to see a ball of mangled fur just inches from her face. She raised her arm to guard her head and neck, knowing this pathetic attempt would offer little protection.

She squeezed her eyelids shut and braced for the pain.

But instead of feeling her flesh break beneath puncturing teeth, she heard the raccoon give a furious, startled screech.

Alex opened her eyes to see a long metal chain wrapped around the animal’s throat like the leash of a common house pet. Her eyes followed its steel links to the hand of a man stepping out from behind the thick trunk of a nearby oak tree.

“Don’t worry, little lady!” The skinny stranger in dirty mechanic’s overalls parted his lips to reveal brown rotting teeth. He licked them.

“No need to be afraid of Cooney here. I got him under control.”

Alex pushed herself up into a sitting position, freezing again when the movement caused the raccoon to thrash and flail on its chain. Her eyes darted back and forth between the beast and its gaunt, filthy owner. She couldn’t decide who looked more threatening.

Another disturbing smile crossed the man’s face as he loosened his grip on his pet’s metal chain. The raccoon surged forward another inch, prompting a shriek from Alex’s mouth, before being yanked back.

“Whoops!” The stranger bellowed, laughing. “Sorry about that, ma’am. I’m all thumbs today.”

Alex’s body quaked, tears now pouring from her eyes as she struggled to speak. “Please…”

The man threw up a hand to his ear. “What’s that?”

“Please. Leave me alone.”

“Ha!”

Alex winced as her captor coughed up a ball of viscous phlegm and spat it in her direction, the disgusting wad just barely missing her arm. He scratched his crotch and said, “Come on now. Don’t be like that. Cooney here is
real
nice once he gets to know you.”

He eased the chain a little more.

“Stop!” Alex wailed, wiping away the salty tears that were clouding her vision. The raccoon continued to hiss and gnash its teeth so closely that she could actually smell its rancid breath. “Please! Go away!”

“Go away?” The man’s scratched his neck. “But we haven’t even been formally introduced.” Dirty fingers gripped the rim of his brown baseball cap and tugged it downward. “They call me Bugger, and it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, miss… What might your name be?”

Alex didn’t hear the question. She was too distracted by the snarling raccoon’s yellow fangs. It hissed at her again and she scurried back, trying to distance herself from its snapping jaws. But when she felt her back brush the rough bark of a tree trunk, she knew she could go no further. The trunk stretched from shoulder to shoulder, an obstacle far too wide to get around before the man and his best friend would be upon her. She began to sob even harder, and an awful wet warmth began to spread across her groin.

The man who called himself Bugger shook his head. “Ah, now don’t cry. You’re too pretty to cry.” His right eye twitched. “So pretty…”

He released the chain.

Alex, so overcome with fear and adrenaline, wasn’t even aware that her hand clutched a short, thick tree branch until she was swinging it at the charging raccoon with all the strength left in her shaking body. Luckily, the makeshift weapon found its mark, slamming into the charging beast’s skull with a sickening crunch. The raccoon released a short yelp before slumping to the ground, limp as an old teddy bear.

For a solitary second, both Alex and Bugger stared at the creature’s still body.

And then Alex was on her feet, sprinting through the forest’s tangle of bushes and branches, taking advantage of her captor’s state of shock. But the distraction didn’t last long. Alex could hear the booming voice of the raccoon’s enraged owner as if he was speaking right into her ear.

“Hey! You killed Cooney! You fucking
bitch
!”

The scream was followed by accompanied by something even more terrifying: the pounding of Bugger’s approaching footsteps. Alex, teary eyed and wailing, ran as fast as her boots would allow. Branches whipped at her face, cutting her cheeks and whipping past her eyes. She had no idea which direction she was heading. All she cared about was getting away from the psychopath chasing her. He was closing the distance, expertly making his way through the thick underbrush with a native’s knowledge of the terrain. Alex knew she wouldn’t be able to keep up this game of cat-and-mouse for much longer.

Her only chance was to somehow double-back and try to make it to the road. She had a snowball’s chance in hell that a car would drive by at that exact moment, but would the man be daring enough to continue his pursuit outside the cover of the woods? She prayed he wouldn’t risk acquiring a witness to his sadistic mission and sink back into the trees, in search of another outsider to torment.

Where the fuck is the road?

The frantic question was ripped from Alex’s mind when her boot slammed into a large, pointy rock jutting from the earth. Her stubbed toe sent her into a headfirst tumble, her face crashing to the dirt below. Teeth rattling and knees scraping the forest floor, she was already planting her hands to push herself up—

And that’s when she saw it:

The hollow, rotten trunk of a fallen tree.

Remaining in her prone position, Alex crawled to the hollow log like a commando sneaking up on an enemy base. She just barely made it inside the rotten wood when Bugger sprinted into view. To her panic, he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Oh, little
laaaady
!” he called in a singsong manner, his hands cupped around his mouth. “Where are
yoooouu
?”

He sniffed the air.

“I can smell your insides.”

From within the fallen timber, Alex’s entire body quivered so badly she feared she might quake the rotten wood to pieces. She clamped her mouth from screaming, her sweaty palm squeezing all the blood from her lips.

Something with many legs crawled across her bare calves.

Oh God…

A snap in the distance brought Bugger’s eyes to the trees beyond her hiding place. In an instant he was gone, chasing after whatever had miraculously acted as bait just when she needed it.

Alex counted thirty seconds. And then ran.

Although she couldn’t hear him, it didn’t mean he wasn’t right on her heels, quietly toying with her before striking her down with a razor-sharp machete or something equally terrifying. But Alex didn’t dare turn and look as she sprinted into the endless forest, not even feeling the sting of the pricker bushes that stuck to her legs. She did, however, feel a growing pressure in her exhausted lungs, her legs turning to jelly, and cramps jabbing into her sides.

The world was beginning to spin. The ground and sky were coming together in a dizzy dance. She was going into shock.

But then, through her blurred vision, Alex saw that the trees up ahead grew further apart. She had almost made it to the clearing, and the thought of what that meant gave her a boost of strength and numbed her incapacitating pain. The road would be just past the clearing, and with it, her best chance at escape.

A burst of optimism fueled her pumping legs.

But all hope vanished with her next step.

Her left leg snapped as it left the ground, taking the rest of her body with it. Disorientation swallowed her world as Alex flew above the forest floor, dangling upside down from the branch of a towering pine tree. When was done bouncing her up and down like a rag doll, Alex achingly lifted her head to discover the loop of a snare trap tightly wrapped around her ankle. Abdominals cramping as she attempted an impossible crunch, she groaned in an effort to grab the out-of-reach knot.

A pain as sharp as a dagger ripped through her lower back, and she could do nothing to stop her core muscles from releasing their tension. Her body unbent itself with a pathetic whimper of defeat, and her arms flew beneath her.

She just did not possess the strength.

The tears began to flow.

Alex cried in silence, not even possessing the strength of spirit to bawl with vigor. She swayed back and forth in the air, listening to her weight make the overhead branch creak and the birds sing a cruel celebration of the lessening rainfall.

Then she heard a sound.

Bugger stood below, chuckling with delight.

“Well, what do we have here?”

He rubbed his hands together in childish delight.

“Fresh meat.”

It’s starting to clear up
.

Weirdly, that was Marshall’s first thought as his eyes slowly opened to the thinning clouds above. The black had lightened to a soft gray, and the sky was beginning to peek through in brilliant blue strips.

This observation on the weather was immediately followed by a second thought:

My fucking head!

The back of Marshall’s cranium throbbed in a slow, excruciating rhythm. Using two fingers of his right hand, he gingerly prodded at his hair, which was crusty with dried blood. By gritting his teeth and taking long, difficult breaths through his nostrils, Marshall examined the wound. It felt roughly the size of a quarter, but not deep enough to reach the bone. He knew he needed to seek medical attention as soon as possible, but the bleeding had stopped and he was starting to regain his bearings. As long as he didn’t trip and knock his noggin a second time, Marshall was hopeful he’d be able to reach help before passing out again.

The depleted battery of his cellphone made it impossible to know how long he’d been unconscious. But judging by the drastically changed weather, it must have been a considerable length of time. He thought about checking the surrounding area for Alex in case she had come looking for him, but quickly changed his mind. She’d been beyond pissed when she sent him on this treacherous errand, and probably hadn’t even bothered waiting for him to return. She was most likely flirting with a border patrolman by now, while her boyfriend nearly killed himself to fulfill her wishes.

“Fuck it,” Marshall grumbled as he took his first shaky step forward. He’d go directly back to the road. If Alex wasn’t there, he’d jump off that bridge when he got to it. For now, he had his hands full trying to navigate the remainder of the hill without his blurred vision bringing him down. This trip was not going to be easy.

As if to prove that point, the slick carpet of wet leaves under Marshall’s right foot suddenly slid forward and sent his arms shooting out to both sides. Fortunately, an ash trunk to his left provided the handle he needed to keep himself afoot. He cursed at himself for his carelessness. He couldn’t afford to let another breaking branch or unearthed plant send him somersaulting to his second crash landing.

Marshall turned his head toward his hand pressed against the trunk—and opened his mouth in a silent scream.

His hand was gone.

At first, Marshall thought he’d somehow sunk his extremity into a mound of tree-hugging fungi without noticing. But when he tried to wiggle his fingers and the pile of green fungus moved, bile rose in his throat with a dreadful realization:

The horrendous growth was growing
on
his hand.

With his other hand, Marshall slowly reached out to gingerly touch the green, fuzzy mass. He brushed the edge of a mushroom that was growing from the knuckle of his index finger. His nerves tingled.

No…

The mushroom wasn’t growing on his skin,

It
was
his skin.

Marshall turned and vomited sour, white foam into a patch of drooping ferns at his feet. He stood there hunched over, dry heaving until he was able to take a deep breath without gagging.

Though his brain still felt as if it were swimming laps around the inside of his skull, Marshall took a deep breath through his nose and tried to settle his nerves. If his father’s meditation techniques were ever going to work, Marshall prayed they would now. At least his hand wasn’t burning like before. Through the dark murk of his hazy memory, Marshall could recall how it had felt as it were on fire seconds before he lost consciousness.

“Okay, man,” he whispered to himself, trying not to hyperventilate. “Keep it together and find some help.”

Trying to not even glance at his infected-beyond-recognition hand, Marshall started to jog down the last slope of the hill. He knew he was going faster than he probably should have in his condition, but the injury to his head had become the least of his concerns. As a surfer, he’d knocked his skull around plenty of times before, giant waves throwing him against both the ocean floor and his own board. A few stitches were nothing—a hand made of mold was something else.

The ground finally leveled out under his feet and Marshall breathed a sigh of relief. The clearing was just ahead and then, thank God, the road. Once his first foot hit the road’s gravel, Marshall would run as fast as his throbbing head would allow. Maybe he’d even send Alex ahead so she could reach help faster. That is, if Alex was even still there waiting for him. He now found himself hoping she’d gone ahead and already made it to the border. Pushing branches away with his good hand, Marshall fantasized about reaching the road and being greeted by a patrolman’s cruiser. But no matter how he did it, he had to find someone to help him—and fast. It might’ve been his own imagination, but he swore he could feel the fungus spreading upward to his forearm. Just past his shell bracelet his skin was beginning to itch.

Marshall, however, did not feel the burning irritation for long. When a final spruce branch swept past his eyes to reveal the clearing, all concerns for his own well-being vanished.

Alex dangled upside down by one leg from a gargantuan pine tree.

“Alex!”

It was only when he reached the area directly underneath her that Marshall realized he had no idea how he was going to get her down. Alex’s raspy snoring instantly reminded him of the time his buddy TJ was launched from his moped while not wearing a helmet. Marshall came upon his friend to find him taking long, gurgling breaths through his open mouth. Alex was making the exact same noise now.