Desolate: The Complete Trilogy Part 7

25.

It seemed as if the entire shed instantly filled with fire. The creature was engulfed in flames as it frantically writhed and twisted in pain. It ran around the room and bounced off the walls as it tried to escape the fire. Liz reached Howard and dragged him from the flames. His legs and feet smoldered. He cried out in pain.

The fire spread at an alarming rate and Liz was just barely able to drag Howard out the door before the entire building went up. She dragged him as far as she could and collapsed in the snow trying to catch her breath.

Howard was still conscious, but just barely. Liz lifted his blood soaked s.h.i.+rt and saw the gaping wound in his abdomen. He tried to say something.

"What?" Liz put her ear closer to his mouth.

"I'm. Sorry."

"You killed it, Howard. You saved us."

"Farm."

"What?"

"Stay. Away."

He lost consciousness.

26.

Liz stared out the window of the Bell 412 and looked at the endless water a thousand feet below. She felt a tug at her s.h.i.+rt sleeve and was surprised to see Lisa sitting next to her.

"How are you doing, kiddo?" Lisa's voice crackled in the headset Liz was wearing.

"I'm feeling pretty lousy actually," Liz responded. "I must be coming down with something."

"That's all you need now is to get a cold." Lisa patted Liz on the knee and gave her a sympathetic look.

"It doesn't seem right, leaving him back there. He's just lying there on the floor."

"I know, but let's face it. The entire station is one big crime scene. We had to leave everything the way it was. Don't worry about Phillip. He'll get a proper funeral when all this mess it sorted out."

"You believe me about the alien, don't you?" asked Liz. "You don't think I'm crazy?"

"Right now, all I care about is getting you to a hospital. We need to make sure you're okay."

"Oh, I'm fine. Just a little under the weather."

"If you're so fine, then why are you leaking?" Lisa pointed at Liz's nose. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and it came away b.l.o.o.d.y.

"Sure, b.l.o.o.d.y nose," Liz said. "What else can go wrong?"

"Face it kiddo, this ain't your day." Lisa handed her a handkerchief.

"Thirty minutes ladies," Ron announced over their headsets. "I radioed ahead and they've got two ambulances waiting at the airport."

"An ambulance for me too Ron?" Liz asked. "A little overkill don't you think? I'm fine."

"Have you ever been in a cab in Rio Grande? Trust me, you're banged up enough as it is. Worst drivers in Argentina."

Liz looked over at Howard. He was strapped to a stretcher on the helicopter floor. Before Ron and Lisa returned, she was able to stop the bleeding and clean the wound the best she could, but he hadn't regained full consciousness. She gave him as much pain meds as she dared without cras.h.i.+ng his blood pressure and kept a steady stream of plasma flowing through an IV. If he could get to the hospital within the hour he might make it.

"I'm going to head back up front," said Lisa. "He's on no sleep and is bound to crash and kill us all if I don't keep an eye on him."

Liz smiled and looked back out the window. She dabbed her nose again and sat back. She really did feel terrible and was a little glad she was taking an ambulance to the hospital. At least it would feel good to get back to civilization again.

Part Two - Exposure.

1.

Forgive me if I do a poor job of describing the first moments after I gained consciousness. It's not for lack of trying, but all I can remember is floating in a hazy state of semi awareness. Think of all the times you've hit the snooze bar and fallen back to sleep seconds later. Sometimes you don't even remember doing it, do you?

Sounds and smells crept into my dreams as I struggled to waken. When I finally opened my eyes for the first time, I shut them immediately, squinting due to the brilliant sun beating down on me.

It's amazing all the little things that go on with our bodies without us ever giving them a second thought, isn't it? As the pupils in my eyes automatically adjusted to allow the appropriate amount of daylight in, my heart continued to pump, my lungs expanded and contracted, and the pores on my skin excreted perspiration to help regulate my body temperature. I mention the perspiration only because I was warm. Uncomfortably so.

But I digress. Listen to me rattle on about nonsense when you're no doubt wondering where I was and what happened to me. That would make two of us.

The sky above me was a brilliant shade of blue and a few clouds were scattered about. In the periphery of my vision, I could see leaves and branches. Judging by the density of the foliage on almost all sides, it appeared I might have been in a clearing of a wooded area. Jungle, maybe?

I apologize. By now I'm sure you're screaming at me to sit up and look around, but I neglected to tell you, I suppose I should have opened with it, that I couldn't sit up. I was flat on my back and it felt like I was strapped down to something. I could feel the restraints on each of my forearms and another across my chest. My legs were also trapped.

I could turn my head from side to side but, unfortunately, some sort of foam barrier obstructed my view. Probably to protect my head, I'm guessing. I tried to lift my head but that just gave me a slightly better view of the trees beyond my feet.

Lifting my head also increased the pain, so I only did it once. I didn't mention the pain yet, did I? Again, I apologize. So much to tell; I'm having a problem getting it all out in an order that makes sense. There was a deep throbbing around my stomach. A little lower, I guess, in the abdomen, off to the side. If I could touch it, I would have been able to see if I had some sort of wound down there.

I was also dealing with some major discomfort a little farther south. I felt like I had to pee but when I finally allowed myself to try, I couldn't tell if anything was coming out or not. Ladies, you're probably already aware of how much we gentlemen are always grabbing at our crotch. Believe me when I say it was driving me crazy not to be able to use my hands to give Mr. w.i.l.l.y a once over and see what was happening down there.

I tried to make sense of my surroundings but couldn't remember what had happened to me. Besides a few bugs flying overhead from time to time and typical birdcalls you would hear in the jungle, I didn't hear anything else.

I finally called out, my own voice sounding strange and scared. I don't recall exactly what I said but "h.e.l.lo" seems like a pretty logical guess. There was no response, so I yelled out a few more times. No answer.

Other than the foulness coming from my armpits (I had a feeling they hadn't seen soap in a while), I kept catching a whiff of a burning odor. Heavy and toxic, it smelled like fuel mixed with burning plastic or some other synthetic material. Mingling with that was just a touch of wood smoke.

Another stench filled my nose as well. It was probably more significant than the burning odors and concerned me. It's probably why I procrastinated and didn't mention it to you sooner.

The smell of something dead. You know the smell. We've all sniffed that trace of road kill on a hot summer afternoon. That deer or racc.o.o.n festering on the pavement and feeding the flies. It spoils the air in your car for just a moment; you grimace before it fades and continue on your journey, already forgetting it.

Unfortunately, I couldn't leave this smell. I couldn't be sure, but it was pretty close whatever it was. I got a little relief, depending on what direction the breeze flowed, but only for a moment. The buzzing of flies was getting louder. It sounded like it was coming from behind me, slightly to the left.

The smell of death. The last time I smelled it wasn't because of road kill. I came from a place full of death. It slowly came back to me now. I remembered Carl, Reg, Liz, and her dead husband (thanks to Carl). I thought of all my fellow inmates who got sick and died in the most awful way imaginable.

Well, that's not entirely true. When I saw Carl get ripped in half by that...alien... Yes, it must have been an alien. I can admit that now. If something could survive all those years in that s.h.i.+p and make everybody sick from a s.p.a.ce germ or whatever, why not an organ-eating monster as well? Getting ripped in half was a pretty terrible way to die. Poor Reg knew it as well.

Not that I didn't deal a little death myself. But that was a long time ago, and I'm done thinking about that.

Liz. What happened to Liz? I strained to pinpoint my last memory before waking up in this strange place. I remembered finally lighting the kerosene and the insane squeals of that monster as it burned. Liz pulled me out of the shed and then...

Nothing. That's all I could remember.

A fly landed on my forehead. I quickly moved my head to the side; it flew off and landed right back on. Something stung my arm, and I could feel another critter crawling up my leg. I tried to shake my leg to discourage whatever was heading north, but that just made my stomach hurt worse. For the time being, I accepted the fact I was going to be dealing with bugs while I was trapped on the jungle floor. I hoped nothing poisonous was creeping about.

My mouth was bone dry. Let's not forget that. Although I was a glad to be off that rock in the Antarctic, the thought of s.h.i.+vering in the snow seemed heavenly as I baked in the sun and dreamt of a simple gla.s.s of water.

I think I sort of blacked out at that point. When I woke up, the sun was low in the sky and I wasn't so d.a.m.n hot anymore.

The incessant buzzing of the flies behind me continued unabated, and the stench from the rotting thing was worse than ever.

I cried out again, more desperate this time, and did so until I went hoa.r.s.e. I'm not ashamed to admit I cried for a while. Not the best strategy, since I was already dehydrated, but I'd like to think most of us would cry in that situation. Most of us.

Sleep again. This time, I woke in total darkness. It took me a few seconds to realize where I was, but I could make out the outline of the trees against the dark sky, and I remembered. I stared at the stars and appreciated the fact that the buzzing flies had retired for the evening.

The jungle was loud at night. There was a constant chirping of what I a.s.sumed were tree frogs or crickets. I could still feel the occasional bug crawl over me, and I did the best I could, with my limited movement, at shooing them away.

I must have dozed for a while because I suddenly became very alert as I heard movement among the trees. Something or someone was walking through the woods, disturbing leaves and breaking twigs. I was tempted to call out again but decided to keep my mouth shut.

It came closer and seemed to be moving toward the dead thing behind me. I heard shuffling footsteps, breathing, and snorting. It came closer to me now. Just inches away. There was a rapid fire of quick inhales and then one large exhaling snort that blew hot breath on my face. It had an earthy and slightly sour odor to it. I held my breath and was perfectly still.

Whatever it was lost interest in me quickly and sauntered away. I sighed in relief just as I felt the first raindrop hit my face.

Within a couple of minutes the sky opened up and I was pelted with a vicious downpour. I was soaked to the bone and s.h.i.+vering, but I kept my mouth open and gulped down the precious drops from above. They were sweeter than anything I'd ever tasted before.

2.

It didn't rain very long, but the misery it caused me lasted the rest of the night. I was grateful for the little bit of water I was able to catch in my mouth and swallow, but it also left me cold and s.h.i.+vering until dawn. Had I been stranded in a little less tropical climate, I probably would have succ.u.mbed to hypothermia.

I was glad to see the sky lighten and sun's rays start to peek through the trees. At the same time, it filled me with dread and washed depression over me like a lead blanket. The thought of lying there for another day had me crying again.

After spending a few minutes feeling sorry for myself, I came to the conclusion that it wasn't going to get me anywhere. I needed to free myself, or at least sit up, so I wouldn't go insane on top of everything else.

I felt weaker than the day before, and I knew if I wasn't able to get free in the next couple of hours, I was toast. I had drunk the equivalent of a few sips of water last night, and soon the sun would be on me full bore for an entire day again. There was no way I could survive that.

Ignoring the pain in my gut, I started wiggling my arms and legs, trying to find some slack in the straps. They were on pretty d.a.m.n tight, but I kept at it. I ignored the discomfort as my skin rubbed raw against the restraints.

I have no idea how long this went on. To tell you the truth, I was a little out of it by then. Looking back on it now, I'm glad I didn't give up. It would have been easy to do, but I guess there was a little voice inside, nagging me not to give up.

Sometimes, I wonder if I would have been better off giving up back then, considering my current situation. Listen to me, dropping a little hint like that. That's what writers call foreshadowing. I'm tempted to just cut to the chase and fill you in on what's happening to me right now. But where's the fun in that? Besides, I'm proud of myself for getting free and I want to share it with somebody.

Yes, that's right. I did free myself, eventually. I was finally able to work enough slack into my left wrist strap to allow me to wiggle my hand free. What a liberating feeling it was to finally be able to move my left arm again.

The chest strap was easy. I could feel a simple clasp right in the middle of my chest, and I released it.

It wasn't easy to sit up, but I managed after a few tries. The wound in my abdomen, along with most of the muscles in my back and b.u.t.t, sang together in a chorus of pain. I released the restraint on my right hand and both of my legs. I was finally free.

3.

I slowly sat up and took in my surroundings. The scene in front of me was pretty much as I expected. All I could see earlier were treetops, so naturally now all I saw were tree bottoms. Um, tree trunks. Lots of trees. I was definitely in the jungle.

Oh, and the thing I was strapped to? You probably guessed by now it was just a stretcher. I'm sure I was strapped to it for my own safety, not out of any malicious intent, but when you're alone in the jungle it's hard not to feel resentment for the thing that kept you prisoner for over a day.

To my right was the wreckage of an airplane and things slowly started to come into focus. Although it looked like I was in a natural clearing in the forest, the plane had plowed through plenty of small trees and vegetation when it hit the ground and skidded to a stop. It was about thirty feet away and I was currently sitting in the path it made before it stopped and partially burst into flames, from the look of it.

The dead thing. I turned to my left and immediately regretted it. It was a woman, was being the proper tense, even in the present tense, because she was quite dead. She was sprawled on her back, eyes open, staring at the sky. Her chest was covered with dried blood. A c.o.c.kroach or some other kind of nasty jungle bug crawled out of her mouth and I gagged.

She was wearing a bright yellow all-in-one outfit. A HAZMAT suit, I would hazard (ha!) a guess. She wasn't wearing anything on her head, so I questioned the effectiveness of the outfit. She must have taken off a face mask and the hood at some point.

My outfit? I was decked out in light blue hospital scrubs and a pair of those socks with built-in rubber strips on the bottom. Not a bad footwear choice for slick hospital floors, but really s.h.i.+tty for my current location.

Taped to my left hand was an IV line, but it wasn't connected to anything. The back of my hand was covered in dried blood; the line must have gotten pulled out of the IV bag at some point. I slowly pulled out the needle.

The pain from my crotch was still kicking so I knew that needed my attention next. I panicked for a second, thinking of the bug crawling out of the woman's mouth. I pulled the front of my pants away from my body and checked out everything downstairs. It wasn't a bug, it was a catheter. I gathered my courage and slowly pulled it out. Not the most pleasant feeling I've had down there. It actually hurt like h.e.l.l and I was convinced I was about to be showered with b.l.o.o.d.y urine once the tube was free, but it was far less dramatic. Once it was out, I fell immediately better. Certain I was free of all medical contraptions, I decided it was time to get off the stretcher.

I got to my feet and stretched my muscles a little, once again angering the stomach-wound G.o.ds and making me grimace with pain. I lifted my s.h.i.+rt and found a bandage. It looked pretty old and nasty, and I decided it was doing more harm than good at this point, so I carefully peeled it off. There was an angry wound with fresh st.i.tches where I had been impaled by that thing back at the research station. Somebody with an MD after his or her name must have patched me up. I was grateful for that, but I had a feeling I would still have a prescription for painkillers if I was anywhere other than the jungle. It was still sore as h.e.l.l.

I just stood there for a while, making sure I wasn't about to go lightheaded and bang my head on a rock or something. I was curious about the dead woman and wondered what she was doing so close to me. I noticed slight indentations in the ground that led away from the stretcher toward the plane wreckage, and I realized what happened. This woman had dragged me from the plane as far as she could before she died. I had no idea who she was, but the thought of it touched me and I started to tear up again.

Man, I'm doing a lot of crying in this story, aren't I? Gimme a break. Let's see how well you'd do in this situation, tough guy.