THEM (Season 1): Episode 4 (2 page)

When I awoke it was still dark. I still felt feverish, and my chances for getting out of this mess alive didn’t look good. The longer I waited, the weaker I got, so I needed to get up and push on if I was going to evade recapture by the militia. I pulled myself up to a sitting position against the rough bark of the juniper tree, and that’s when I realized I wasn’t alone; I could see the outline of a large figure crouching just a few feet away from me.

I reached back and pulled the makeshift spear from my belt, only to hear whoever it was call out to me in a whisper. “Now Scratch, there’s no need to get up on my part.” I recognized the voice; it was Donnie Sims, or what was left of him. Just like back at the winery, his voice was overlaid with another, deeper voice. Maybe it was the fever, but it almost sounded like several voices spoke to me all at once in some sort of hellish cacophony of jumbled syllables.

“I must say, I do believe thanks are in order.” I heard a slurping sound, and could barely see Donnie’s hand come up to his mouth; whatever creature was inhabiting Donnie’s body now was licking something wet and viscous from its fingers. “Those guards were delicious. Such fear.” Another slurp. Then it leaned toward me, whispering conspiratorially.
“Such terror.”

Despite knowing I couldn’t fight off a dead raccoon in my current condition, I pulled myself into a sitting position and held my makeshift spear across my body. I doubted I’d get as lucky as I had back at Kara’s with that ’thrope, but it was worth a shot.

Donnie leaned away again and tsked at me from where he crouched. “Scratch, you don’t look so good. No, no, no, not good at all. I daresay, in your current condition, I’d not bother to make even a snack out of you.” I heard it inhale in a long, staccato sniff, as if it were a sommelier about to sample a fine wine. He continued. “That is, if I were so inclined. But even if I were, in your condition I’d simply be committing cannibalism, of a sort.”

I decided to try to get some intel, because on the odd chance that this thing didn’t kill me, and that I didn’t die of infection, I’d eventually have to hunt it down and destroy it. “So, what are you anyway? I know you’re not Donnie anymore, and I’ve never seen something like you, not in eight years of hunting occult creatures. You move like a nos’, and smell like a deader, but you’re not either.”

The thing that was once Donnie Sims scratched its head and chuckled. “Well, how very observant of you… Yes, quite the intrepid hunter you are, yes indeed.” In the dark it appeared as if it cocked its head to the side. “What’s that? Should we enlighten the dear man?” He paused, as if listening to a far off voice. “Well, that’s true, he doesn’t have much longer, not in his condition. Soon, he’ll know
empirically
what
we
are.”

He turned his head back in my direction, or at least I thought he did, and chuckled. “As for your question, I am known by many names.
Flesh-eater. Soul-render. Mantequero. Witiko. Jikininki. Ithaqua.
But for now, you can just call me Donnie, or Mr. Sims if you like.” He chuckled briefly, apparently amused at some private joke.

“You’re not Donnie Sims—not anymore. You might wear his flesh, but I know that Donnie’s gone.”

The thing covered the short distance between us in an instant, and I raised the spear in a feeble attempt to defend myself. It was batted out of my hands before I could make contact. Donnie froze in the dark, and then he lit a match, illuminating the space between us for a few moments. As my eyes adjusted, I could see that Donnie’s eyes were pitch black, and that he had new blood dripping down his jaw, over old blood that had crusted there from previous kills. He was also quite a bit thinner in the face and jowls than I remembered, and he had a lean and hungry look that he’d never had in his previous life.

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong. Donnie is still here, inside me. In fact, he wants to tell you something.” He gestured with the match and spoke, but this time it wasn’t the calliope-like voice; it was Donnie’s voice and his alone speaking. “Pull up your sleeve, Scratch. There’s something you should see.”

Surprised at this, I complied. I pulled up my right sleeve, which was the one the creature had indicated, and underneath the cloth I saw a familiar sight. It looked a lot like gangrene, but instead of the bluish-green creep of gangrenous tissue necrosis, these lines were darker and much more defined, almost like a tattoo.

“Ah hell. So that’s why you haven’t killed me. I’m already dead.”

The match went out, and Donnie Sims shuffled back a few feet to squat again in the dark. It was silent for a few more moments, and then it spoke, once more in the calliope voice. “Actually, I don’t want to eat you, no, not at all. That would be a singular waste, yes, yes indeed. And this—well, this just won’t do. The both of us, Scratch, we’re both pawns in something far greater than this current…” he paused, as if searching for the right word, “…quest, you’re on. And I, for one, have an interest in keeping you alive.”

“I’ll be dead within the day. Looks like you failed.” I was infected, and I knew it. Once the infection took hold, it spread and nothing could stop it. No amount of antibiotics or medicines could halt the spread of deader venom, once it got in your system. I figured I must’ve been bit when I took that thing under the water back at the pit. Hadn’t even noticed it in the struggle.

“On the contrary, I believe I’ve succeeded.” The thing perked up, cocking his head sideways again. “Yes, yes indeed. Help should be arriving shortly.” Donnie Sims turned and paused, and I thought I saw it looking back over its shoulder. “My advice to you is to say yes.” It scrambled off into the night.

I sat there, propped up against the tree, and considered my fate. I’d killed almost a hundred of the greater occult species, only to get offed by a deader. I laughed softly at my predicament and closed my eyes. I’d be no use to Gabby and Doc now.

Then, I heard a familiar voice. “Scratch, is that you?” It was Bobby, and I could hear him crawling through the brush toward me.

“Yeah, it’s me. What’s left of me, anyway.”

“You look like hell, boss.”

I smirked at that, knowing he could see my face despite the lack of light. “How’d you find me?”

Bobby chuckled. “When you didn’t show up, I tracked you back to the compound and to that pit. It took me a while, because there were militia all over the place and it confused the scent.” He stopped for a moment, as if searching for an apology. “Anyway, by the time I figured out where they’d taken you, it was already dark. I sniffed around and noticed that the soldiers had gone in that house, but when I went in, it was a slaughterhouse in there. I’ve never seen anything like it. Whatever killed them, it didn’t look like it did it for food—it looked like it did it for fun. I followed the blood trail here, and found you.”

I barked a short laugh, realizing that the thing that called itself Donnie Sims had purposely led Bobby here. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re about a dollar short and a day late. I’m infected. Happened down in that pit with the deaders.”

Bobby plopped down under the tree and let out a long breath. “Shit. Shit! No way man, no way I’m lettin’ you go deadhead on us. Uh-uh, no freaking way.” I heard him duck-walk over to me. “Show me the bite.”

“Bobby, there’s nothing you can do. I’ve seen a million of these bites, and it always ends the same. I’m done for, and there’s nothing that can be done for it, so don’t go blaming yourself for my screw-up.”

Bobby growled, and I swear his eyes glowed in the dark. “Show it to me!” The kid could be scary when he wanted, that was for sure. Not wanting to spend my last moments getting pummeled by a ’thrope, I pulled up my sleeve and exposed the bite for him.

I could see, or maybe sense him nod in the dark. “This is gonna’ hurt.” Then, before I could react he grabbed my wrist and laid the bite open with a single swipe of one of his razor sharp claws. I won’t lie, it hurt like hell, but all I could do was just sit there; I had no fight left in me. Then I heard him tear open the flesh of his own arm with his teeth, and soon I felt hot wet fluid dripping into the gash he’d created over the deader bite.

As Bobby’s blood hit the open wound, it felt like someone had driven a red-hot poker into the flesh of my arm. I gasped, and then it felt like that fire was moving slowly up my arm, spreading throughout my body. I started convulsing, my arm and back muscles and jaw clenching as I arched against the tree.

I fought between jagged breaths to mouth out a question. “What…did you…just do?”

Bobby pulled me away from the tree, and cradled my head in his lap, turning me on my side slightly in case I vomited. “If we’re lucky, my blood will fight off the Z venom. If so, you just might live. I’ve seen this done once, but it was done by my alpha. So, I have no idea whether or not it’ll work with my blood.”

The spasms began to subside, and I started shivering uncontrollably. “If you turned me into a ’thrope, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Bobby laughed. “Hah! This is nowhere near what you have to go through to become a pack member. For that, you have to die—I mean, your heart has to literally stop in order for the ’thrope blood to take over. No, you’ll just have a bad hangover in the morning. If it works.”

I shivered and curled into a ball, partially because I was suddenly freezing, and partly because my stomach was clenching up like I’d just been punched in the diaphragm. “Great,” I managed to choke out.

Bobby chuckled again and picked me up in his arms, crouching as he left the cover of the juniper thicket. “Yeah, well, you’re not out of the woods yet. Probably best to haul ass back to where the Doc and Gabby are waiting on us and let her check you out.” Mercifully, I passed out as he took off at a dead run toward the Facility.

I awoke in a hospital bed, in a concrete room that was illuminated with fluorescent lights. The walls were painted a light green color, which was a dead giveaway that I was in what once had been a military facility. My eyes were gummed shut and I felt weak and hungry. I must’ve been out for a few days, at least.

I looked over and saw Gabby crashed out in an office chair by the bed. I was hooked up to a machine that was monitoring my vitals, and had an IV running into each arm. I looked under the sheets and noted that I was wearing a hospital gown and not much else.
Great.
At least I was still alive and in full control of my faculties.

My shuffling around must’ve roused the kid, because she sat up and looked at me like I’d just returned from the dead. Then she gave me the sort of sweet smile that only a kid can muster in the worst of times. “Well, I guess we won’t have to shoot you.”

I chuckled, but it came out more like a wheeze. My mouth and throat felt like I’d been on a three-week bender in Cabo, after drinking the water. “Thanks for the sentiment, kid,” I croaked out. “Where are my clothes?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, we had to burn them. Captain Perez said there was no salvaging them.”

I tried to sit up, managed to get up on one elbow, and then flopped back down on the bed in defeat. I sighed. “Please tell me that you at least saved my moccasins.”

Gabby laughed and winked at me, whispering behind her hand. “I snuck them out of the trash pile and cleaned them up for you.”

I dropped my head back on the pillow. “Thanks, kid. Where’s Doc?”

She shrugged. “Probably yelling at Bobby again. They don’t get along so well.”

“Any food around here? I’m starved.”

“Yeah, but I’d better go get Captain Perez. She asked me to let her know as soon as you woke up.”

The kid left the room and I drifted off again. When I next awoke, Captain Perez was checking my vital signs. She smirked at me. “So, you decided to rejoin the land of the living. About time.”

I started pulling out tubes and removing wires. “Food. Clothes. Weapons. Not necessarily in that order.”

The Doc stomped over to the bedside and placed her hand on my chest, easily forcing me back down on the bed. “Whoa there, ranger. You’re a few days away from being well enough to leave this facility, and it’ll be another day or so before you’re strong enough to get out of bed. Let’s start with food, and see how you do from there, alright?” She started fussing around with the I.V. tubes, fixing the damage that I’d done and resecuring the lines with medical tape.

I grimaced and laid my head back down. Fact was, even that small bit of activity had made me feel weak. “I suppose I have little choice in the matter. Fine.”

She turned to the kid. “Gabby, can you bring our patient here something to eat from the mess?”

She came to attention and snapped off a salute. “Aye, aye, sir!”

We both shouted after her in unison, “Only Marines say that!”

I chuckled and shut my eyes for a moment. “What saved me? Bobby’s blood, or your hoodoo?”

“Thus far, Bobby’s blood and some I.V. antibiotics seem to be doing the trick. From what I can guess, whatever factors are present in lycanthrope blood that allow for their tremendous healing abilities are what’re responsible for your recovery. I decided to administer the antibiotics as well, just in case.”

I nodded and sighed. “Kid saved my life.”

She smiled, a rare sight in the short time I’d known her. “Well, you saved his first, so I believe he sees it as a fair trade.” She tilted her head, as if unsure whether to continue. “He fairly worships you, you know. I think you’ve taken the place of his alpha, in the absence of his pack.”

I harrumphed. “Some alpha I turned out to be. Walked right into that ambush.”

The Doc shrugged. “So did I, and I’m not without certain skills myself.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Was that a Liam Neeson reference?”

She nodded. “We have a DVD library here in the Facility. Gabby has been catching up on 21st and 20th century culture, in fact. She seems to particularly enjoy
Firefly
. I think she has a crush on Mal.”

I shook my head. “Well, I can’t say I’m against her having a chance to be a kid for once. Speaking of which, we need to talk about your super-serum.”

She tilted her head in response. “I’m listening.”