Monster Nation(10)

Mrs. Skye banged a half-full bucket of water down on an old, scarred table and started washing her face and her gnarled hands. The water came away dark with grit and dirt and dried flecks of blood. She shook as she rubbed at her eyes and her ears. 'You're too f*cking late, Walters, but I won't hold that against you. You help me slaughter them and we'll call it even, yeah?'

Dick sat down in a hand-made chair and tried not to look at her. 'Mrs. Skye, I'm sorry we took so long to get back to you after your call. You have to admit though that you're kind of secluded here. It took me six hours to drive here from my office and then I had to climb over a hill to find you. How many sheep are we talking about?'

'Sheep,' the old woman said. She peeled off her jacket and threw it on the floor. She had a bad cut on her arm that looked infected. With a dishrag she started cleaning out the injury. 'You're here about the sheep. Ain't that a shit sandwich.' She took a bottle from a dusty shelf and poured clear liquid down her arm. She winced visibly'it must have been rubbing alcohol or something. 'The sheep are all dead. I just slaughtered them myself so that they wouldn't... so they wouldn't... Next you're going to tell me you came up here unarmed.' The look on his face must have convinced her that this was, in fact, the case. 'I called this morning, I called your office and then came right back here. You didn't get my message? Fuck!'

'Maybe,' Dick said, holding his hands up for calm, 'we should just start over. You reported a case of scrapie a couple of weeks ago''

'Yes, I did. Goddamnit! I make two phone calls in three years and you don't even bother to listen to the important one!' She stomped to a window and stared out at the trees. 'Well that's as it is,' she said, running her nails across her scalp. 'I can't do this alone, I'm tired'I haven't slept in two days, I haven't eaten today. We're just going to have to'' She stiffened visibly. 'What's that? Come here and look at this, Walters.'

Dick rose from his chair and started over to the window. Before he got there he jumped back at the sound of broken glass and screaming. A human hand covered in blisters had come in through the shattered window and grabbed Mrs. Skye by the bottom lip, broken finger nails sinking deep into her skin, tearing her flesh.

Instead of panicking she got her teeth around the fingers and bit down hard enough to snap them off. She reeled backwards, knocking Dick to the floor in the process, and spat the fingertips into the corner of the room.

'Uh gud,' Mrs. Skye wheezed, her mouth covered in blood. 'Thur utt!' Dick had no idea what she meant but she could only seem to repeat over and over, 'thur utt! Thur utt!'

He heard a thud on the side of the cabin, the sound of bone hitting wood very hard. It came again a moment later and then he heard boards creak as someone stepped up onto the porch.

'Shut thuh dur!' Mrs. Skye screamed but it was too late. Dick laid her down gently on the floor (he'd been clutching her ever since they fell together) and stood up, wiping his sweaty palms on the backs of his pants. By the time he reached the door the assailant was already there.

He looked like a mountain climber'the purple ballistic nylon jacket, the rock boots, the ice axe hanging from his belt gave that away. He also looked like a sculpture of a human being made out of butter and left out in the rain. The flesh of his face had dripped away from the bone, revealing bare yellow skull in some places. One eye was completely obscured by collapsed skin. The other had the white cast of glaucoma. A few long black hairs dangled from the climber's face but none were left on top of his head.

The climber moved slowly, so slowly Dick thought he must be running on adrenaline himself as he dodged the climber's clumsy advances. He ducked under an outstretched arm and tried to knock the climber's legs out from under him, amazed at how quickly he was reacting, at how instinct just took over.

The climber grabbed his belt and clambered up onto Dick's back, forcing Dick down to the floor with his weight. Dick could hear his own explosive breathing but the climber made no sound at all. The weight on him shifted a little and he tried to get out from under but then he felt teeth digging into the roll of fat at his waist. The pain was bright and intense: a vibrant horror splashed across his desperate senses. Dick heaved and the climber rolled off of his back.

Blood seeped into his pants as he roared for breath, sucking down the rarefied mountain air to sustain his panic. Dick saw the ice axe hanging from the downed climber's belt and he wanted it, wanted it like a sixteen year old wants a new car.