Page 29 of Stranger


  I braced myself for an explosion or flood of poison gas.

  Instead the lights went out. As simple as that. And without windows the darkness was total. I mean it was just like being sealed into a coffin ten feet underground.

  Behind me, Michaela whispered, “Oh, Christ . . . I can’t see a thing. Greg?”

  “Hold out your hand. There . . . got it.”

  “He’s switched off the power.”

  “Never mind that now. Just follow me. Walk forward. That’s it. Feel those?”

  “Yes.”

  “Those are the rungs of a ladder.”

  “Jesus Christ . . . what’s he going to do next?”

  “He can’t do a thing. He’s over there in his hidey-hole.”

  “But—”

  “But what we’re going to do, Michaela, is climb. I’ll go first, you follow.”

  “But what if the hatch is locked?”

  “There’s a steel wheel like the door we came through. It must be a manual lock. Phoenix can’t do anything to that.” I began to climb. “That’s why he hid the doorway in the first place, to stop others he trapped here from escaping. Are you behind me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go slowly. Don’t rush.”

  Hell, the mental image of falling and breaking a leg came only too sharply. If we did that we might as well be dead and buried. So . . . nice and slow . . . one rung at a time. I climbed the ladder up the shaft in total darkness. God, what a darkness. It coiled ’round you like black smoke. You opened your eyes so wide they hurt, just to see a glimmer of light. But there was no light. And your eyes played tricks on you until purple death’s heads blossomed out of thin air right in front of you.

  Now Phoenix had stopped ranting like a mad old god of yore. He was pissed, I knew that much. But he kept quiet. Maybe there weren’t any of those night vision cameras in this shaft. Maybe he was listening hard through those concealed microphones, trying to hear our hands and feet whispering on the rungs. Or maybe for a sudden yell if one of us slipped back down into the black void to smash our bones on the concrete floor below.

  “Nearly there,” I whispered. Yeah, nearly there. How the hell could I know that, but I wanted to encourage Michaela. She was somewhere below me. Sometimes I felt her hands brush my ankles in the dark as she felt for the next rung. Once I put my foot down on her fingers, but she didn’t cry out.

  I guessed also that every second that went by she expected a hand to close ’round her own ankle to yank her downward. My heart beat louder and louder. The silence made me edgy now. Phoenix had something else planned. Maybe he could lock that hatchway above my head. Then we would be stuck here, waiting to suffocate or freeze at his leisure. But that didn’t add up. No, he wanted us full of blood and healthy for his big pink vampire across the way. Maybe he could flood the place with some kind of narcotic gas that would knock us out. The next time we woke we could be kissing that pink gel, feeling tubes burrowing into our skin as a prelude to it sucking us goddam dry. Jesus, would this ladder ever end?

  I kept climbing. One rung at a time. Nice and easy does it. One rung at a time. Don’t hurry. Don’t rush. One slip and you’ll break your bones at the bottom. You’ll bring Michaela down, too.

  Then the voice came roaring back up the shaft like an erupting volcano. “HEY, GET THIS: THERE’S A TV SCREEN NEAR THE BATHROOM DOOR. LATELY I’VE BEEN SHOWING WHAT YOU CALL THE HIVE FOOTAGE OF YOU, AND GUESS WHAT?” Phoenix’s voice rose with excitement.

  I didn’t reply. Just concentrated on climbing that ladder through the darkness.

  “THE MOMENT SHE SAW YOU, VALDIVA, YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN HER REACTION.”

  My head bumped against the hatch. “Don’t move, Michaela. We’re at the top.”

  “DON’T YOU WANT TO KNOW HOW SHE REACTED, THAT BEAUTIFUL BABY OF MINE?”

  “OK, Phoenix.” I braced myself, feet against the rung, shoulder pressed up hard against the hatch so I could turn the steel wheel with both hands. “Tell me what you saw.”

  “I’VE NEVER SEEN HER DO THAT BEFORE. YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN THE EXPRESSION ON HER FACE. SHE WAS PLEASED—REALLY PLEASED, YOU KNOW?”

  Turn, baby, turn. The steel wheel screeched. “Why was she pleased, Phoenix?”

  “BECAUSE YOU’VE BEEN KEEPING A LITTLE SECRET ALL YOUR OWN, HAVEN’T YOU, VALDIVA?”

  “What little secret’s that?”

  “SHE RECOGNIZED HER OWN KIND. YOU’RE THE PRODUCT OF THIS THING YOU CALL A HIVE, VALDIVA.”

  “Well, I’ll be, Phoenix.”

  “YOU’RE NOT EVEN HUMAN, ARE YOU?”

  “You don’t say?” I humored the madman as I gave the wheel an extra quarter turn. There was a click. “So what do you expect me to do about it?”

  “COME OVER HERE AND SAY HELLO TO YOUR SISTER.”

  “I’ve got other places to go, Phoenix.”

  “VALDIVA, YOU MUST STAY. DON’T YOU REALIZE? SOMETHING WONDERFUL HAS HAPPENED TO YOU.”

  “Yeah, right, Phoenix.” I pushed up against the hatch. Like you open a can of soda, it hissed. Air swirled up ’round us as the pressure between inside the bunker and the outside equalized. “As if we’d believe anything you say.”

  “LISTEN TO ME, VALDIVA, YOU ARE THE FIRST OF A NEW BREED.”

  “Good-bye, Phoenix.”

  “DON’T TAKE MY WORD FOR IT. REMEMBER? IT’S YOU WHO CAN SENSE WHO IS UNDERGOING THE TRANSFORMATION.”

  I pushed upward, opening the hatch until it swung back to crash back against the concrete roof. Moonlight flooded the shaft. Fresh, cool night air swirled ’round my face, chilling the perspiration on my forehead. In triumph I hissed down to Michaela, “We’re out!” I scrambled onto the roof.

  “YOU ARE HIVE, VALDIVA. YOU ARE HIVE!” Phoenix’s voice rose to a roar. “AND THE HIVE SHALL INHERIT THE EARTH!”

  “Give me your hand.” I reached out to Michaela. In the moonlight I could see her shrink back, clinging so tightly to the rungs that her knuckles turned white. “Michaela, hurry.”

  “Greg. What if he’s right? What if you are one of those things?”

  “Listen to him, he’s crazy.”

  “WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH YOUR KINGDOM, VALDIVA? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH MICHAELA? SHE’S ONE OF THE OLD SPECIES, YOU KNOW? THE ONE THAT’S DIVING DOWN TOWARD EXTINCTION.”

  “He’s lying,” I panted. “He’s trying to trick us into staying. Come on, take my hand.”

  “VALDIVA, YOU KNOW AS WELL AS I DO YOU’LL KILL MICHAELA ONE DAY.”

  She looked at me for a moment, her eyes gleaming like black diamonds. Doubt twinned with fear flitted across her face. She couldn’t go back into the bunker. But did she want to leave with me?

  At last she made up her mind. She reached up. I caught her hand in mine and helped her up.

  “YOU’LL BE BACK, VALDIVA. YOU’VE GOT FAMILY HERE NOW. YOU’LL NEED TO SEE YOUR BLOOD RELATIVE HERE, WON’T YOU? YOU SHOULD SEE HER. SHE’S OPENING HER MOUTH. SHE’S CALLING YOU. CAN YOU HEAR HER?”

  Distorted by the concrete shaft. Echoing. Muffled. I heard it. A long, wordless cry, like a child pleading not to be left alone. The eerie sound raised the hair on my scalp. As I stood there on the bunker roof listening, a shiver started in the root of my spine to creep up over my back like a million insects had burst out of my back from a—

  HIVE.

  The word snuck into my head before I could stop it. Hive. I looked at my hands. Man hands? Or monster hands?

  My body began to shake in a series of tremors as I heard that mournful, pleading cry come swirling in a rush from the shaft.

  “Greg.” Michaela took my hand. In a suddenly gentle voice she said, “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”

  I crossed the flat concrete roof to the edge. The drop to the ground was perhaps fifteen feet. In the moonlight the area ’round the bunker looked peaceful. Astroturf gleamed an unnatural green. The place looked deserted. There were no hornets. Even the remains of hornet dead had been cleared by bears and wild dogs.

&n
bsp; After a moment’s search I saw a way down. The branches of a tree had grown close to the bunker. They seemed sturdy enough. I glanced at Michaela. She shot me a smile, her white teeth catching the moonlight.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I can do it.” With that she launched herself from the top of the bunker to land on the branch with the agility of a cat. In seconds she’d reached the trunk and climbed down to the ground. I followed. The branch creaked under my weight but held. Soon I dropped down to stand beside Michaela.

  ’Round us the forest stretched away into the moonlight. A vast and silent place. Not even a breath of wind disturbed the trees. We didn’t have to speak. Michaela inclined her head toward the forest. I nodded.

  Side by side we ran.

  Forty-two

  Moonlight speared the branches, shooting down thin beams of silver to the ground. All ’round us tree trunks formed eerie, Gothic columns. Beside me, Michaela ran, the white rubber sandals flicking soundlessly across the moss. We ran fast. And for some reason we didn’t become breathless. The exhilaration of leaving that concrete tomb where dwelt the madman and the monster gave us wings. For half an hour we raced through the forest, picking up the path, then following it to the road. A little later we found the garage where the Jeep that I’d cursed over all those days before stood there as if waiting for us.

  “Crazy.” Smiling, Michaela shook her head. “Crazy. Did I dream all that? Were we really trapped in the bunker?”

  “We were.” I took a deep breath. “And my God, it’s good to breathe fresh air again.”

  She leaned back against the hood of the Jeep, fanning her face. “Hell, this sweatshirt’s hot. . . .” She lifted a sleeve to her nose. “It smells of that damn place, too.”

  In one smooth movement she pulled the sweatshirt up over her head and hurled it to the corner of the garage. Then she stood there looking at me. Moonlight caressed her bare shoulders. She flicked back her hair and I saw her bare breasts. The tips darkened as cool air stroked them.

  Her eyes locked on mine. “Greg. Prove to me you’re human.” She reached out to gently touch my jaw. “Can you do that?”

  I pulled off my sweatshirt. “There’s my heart. That’s a human heart.” I took her hand and pressed the palm to my chest. “Feel the rhythm?”

  “Prove you’re human.”

  I slid my hands over her shoulders until they met behind her back. That’s when I pulled her in against my chest. Her cool breasts pressed against my skin, which burned like hot metal. I pressed my mouth against hers. Her lips came back at mine doubling the pressure, her tongue working against my tongue.

  The whole world, the whole universe imploded into that kiss. She caressed the muscles of my back while I crushed her tight against my body. The air from her lungs rushed into my ear. “Greg, Greg,” she whispered, breathless. “Prove it. Go on, prove it to me.”

  My fingers slid down her back to reach her pants. My thumbs hooked the waistband and drew them down. Panting, she pulled down mine. Then went down, kissing my chest and stomach.

  It came roaring down at me, spitting flame, hurling out sparks. A great volcanic eruption of passion that was a burning fire inside me. It was some cousin of the instinct that drove me to kill. Now that instinct exploded inside me, driving me to do what I did next. And I could no more have stopped myself than stop myself busting skulls with the ax.

  I lifted her bodily from the floor; her cool hair tumbling down over my naked arms. She gave a surprised gasp as I swung her ’round so her feet were clear of the floor. Then I sat her on the hood of the Jeep. In the moonlight I saw the crazy veil of hair across her face. I saw the hungry glint of her eyes. The flash of teeth as her mouth opened with a sudden spasm. Her naked legs lifted until her feet hooked behind me into the small of my back. Her arms wrapped tightly ’round me, as if she braced herself for some sudden stab of pain. Even her eyes closed tightly as she anticipated what would happen next.

  Pushing my hips forward, I slid into her. Her gasp came in a rush in my ear. Her body enfolded me tightly. She whispered words breathlessly. Not that I understood them. Not that I needed to. Instinctively I knew what she wanted. Gripping her waist as she sat there on the car’s hood I buried myself deep into her.

  “Oh!” Her sudden gasping cry echoed back from the walls. “Don’t stop now, please don’t stop now,” she panted.

  I couldn’t if I wanted to. As my body moved in rhythm with hers I found myself watching her mouth. Her lips pressed together hard with the effort of pushing her hips forward. Then the lips slid back revealing those beautiful white teeth as she smiled. Then they as quickly pursed together to kiss me. There was something fascinating about watching her mouth up close. It moved constantly. The lips reddened and grew enlarged as her breathing came harder. Her tongue ran across them. Then as I pounded into her, shuddering the car from axle to axle, her lips fluttered as a cry started in her throat, growing louder and louder. Her teeth bit her lip as if she couldn’t stand that tidal wave of sensation anymore.

  “Harder . . . please harder . . . yes!”

  That’s when the wave of sensation overwhelmed her, submerged her; she thrashed her head from side to side, her dark hair whipping the hood of the car then whipping back across my shoulder. Her cries filled my ears. Her body arched up to mine, pushing my whole body upright as I bore down hard against her. That’s when even the atoms in my bones seemed to explode all at once.

  The next thing I remember we were holding each other so tightly I thought we’d fuse into a single being. And that’s how we stayed for a long time, holding each other, not moving but listening to the sound of each other’s breathing gradually slowing. Allowing the world to slip back into focus once more.

  Forty-three

  Birds called in the forest. Their cries ran through the trees to die out there in the wilderness. Still tingling from making love to Michaela, I sat on the fence to gaze dreamily into the morning mist. Images of her beautiful body seemed to overlay the view of the surrounding trees and the meadow that ran down from the garage.

  My bag had still been where I’d left it in the garage. I’d dressed using the spare clothes I’d brought with me from Sullivan, only they didn’t amount to more than a pair of jeans and a shirt. My boots and leather jacket remained beyond reach in Phoenix’s bunker. Michaela still lay dead to the world in the sleeping bag. And for the first time I began to wonder about the future. Had the lovemaking been a spur of the moment thing after our escape? Or would something longer lasting come from it?

  I hoped so. Believe me, I didn’t want to face the future alone.

  Sunlight burned through the mist. Soon I felt its heat on my hands and face, and, boy, was it good to see real daylight after being locked away in Phoenix’s concrete fun house. No sooner had I felt sheer relief at being in the open air again then I remembered what Phoenix had said. He claimed I was the product of a hive. That the monstrosity he was harboring had somehow recognized me.

  No way, Phoenix, you insane son of a bitch. You invented that to keep us in the bunker. Your only motive was to feed us to the hive. If we’d stayed, we’d have wound up as sacks of dry skin and bone, sucked dry of blood, then left to hang there like clothes on a line.

  You’re a murdering fuck, too, Phoenix. Anger burned under my skin. He’d lured people in there, given them food and shelter, then fed them to the monster. If I could find enough dynamite I’d stack it against the building and blow it all to hell.

  “I guess we’re going to have to find our own break-fast this morning.”

  I looked back to see Michaela standing by the garage door. Without any spare clothes she’d chosen one of my T-shirts. The hem reached the top of her thighs like a miniskirt. Arms folded, her dark hair tumbling down over her shoulders, she walked up to me.

  Suddenly we both seemed lost for words. I found myself thinking: Is this where we pretend nothing happened last night? Yeah, we’re just good friends, a kiss on the cheek, a slap on the back . . . that’s as fa
r as it goes, OK?

  But I didn’t want that. I realized we were good for one another. We connected. Not just physically either.

  “Greg . . .” she began, as if to say something significant. Then she glanced down at my bare feet. “No shoes?”

  “No. But I’m not wearing those rubber sandals again.”

  “Me neither. I wouldn’t be seen dead in them.” She gave a tight smile. “Bad choice of words. We saw people who were.”

  “Last night . . .” I began.

  “Yes?”

  “Well, I liked what happened. It seemed as if it was . . .” I struggled for the right word, then chose the wrong one. “Natural.”

  She shook her head, smiling. “It was natural, Greg. Very natural.”

  “Sorry, I’m not good at this, but . . . hell . . . run away screaming if you want . . . but, dammit, I liked what— no, not liked: loved. I loved what we did, and I don’t want it to be just a one-off . . . a one-night stand, I think—”

  She lightly touched my lips. “Shh. I loved it, too.” She smiled, her eyes glinting. “I’ve been waiting to find someone special for a long time.”

  I began to speak.

  She touched my lips again. “You run away screaming if you want, but I think I’ve found him.”

  Sliding her hands deliciously ’round my neck, she pulled me down to kiss her lips. Her breath tickled my ear as she spoke. “Come back inside. Prove to me last night wasn’t a fluke.”

  After we made love we fell asleep. I woke to see the shadows of two figures thrown against the wall. I scrambled up from the sleeping bag, shielding my eyes against the sunlight streaming through the open door. Two men stood in the entrance, and one held what seemed to be a club.

  “Jesus, I beg your pardon, Greg. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were—well, you know?”

  “Ben? Zak? Didn’t anyone teach you guys to knock before you walk in?” Despite their sudden appearance I found myself grinning so much my cheeks ached.

  Ben’s hands fluttered as he raised his hands in apology. “Jeez. We didn’t expect to find anyone here. And we thought—huh, Michaela? Oh, man, sorry, I didn’t realize you two were—”