Chapter Six: Parasite - 3.2
Billy entered camp at a run, legs pumping and breath ragged, and made it maybe ten steps into the clearing before tripping face first over a loose tent pole. He fell hard, pole snapping beneath him.
The nearest sentry half snorted a laugh, but then he saw Billy's face. Bandana gone, scratched like he'd been dragged through a bush or two backwards, and expression nothing short of absolute terror.
"Holy shit!"
Billy stumbled to his feet, giving the forest behind one last wild eyed look. He took a step forward, empty hands shaking, then another despite his legs wobbling in protest.
From patchwork tents and dwindling cooking fires, those folks that were awake watched warily.
"That's Billy, right?"
"Is he okay?"
"Weren't he and Ted on watch?"
His eyes jerked from face to familiar face, each labored breath coming a little easier than the last. One foot placed shakily in front of the other, he continued into the clearing.
Then a cool hand grabbed his shoulder, and Billy nearly jumped out of his skin.
"You're alright, Billy," said its owner, voice gentle but grip firm. "It's just me. I need you to turn around."
Billy stopped, and he turned.
It was another sentry. The lead sentry. Michael gave him a quick look up and down, dark eyes noting the small rips and tears that spotted his uniform.
"You hurt?"
Billy shook his head.
"And Ted? Where's he?"
"Ted? He's … they …" /-a knife's edge grin-/-empty pits in its face bubbled forth a heaving mass-/-dark oil oozed sluggishly even from dead eyes-/ Billy blinked back tears. "They got him. Those things got him. I was away for just a minute and … and they …"
"Fuck." Michael dropped his hand. "And this was up by the road?"
Billy nodded weakly.
"Alright. As soon as the Captain's back-"
"No!"
Michael froze. Billy shivered, hand latched above his wrist like a brand.
/-should have been back days ago, and no one even cares! I don't give a shit what Mike says, we can't just sit around hoping! If Cap's not back by dawn we should go looking for him ourselves-/
"No," he repeated, "The Captain's not here, and there's no time to wait. It was Oozers, so Ted could still be alive. You need to go now, get him back before … before they …"
Billy's voice faltered.
Michael caught Billy's free hand with his own, giving a reassuring squeeze.
"You're right. We need to act fast." Michael nodded to another sentry, who took off at a run towards the center of camp. He released Billy's hand, then turned to the crowd.
There were the remaining sentries, soldiers wielding similarly ancient firearms, but they were outnumbered by the others. More than a dozen of the folks watching had risen, and while they weren't as well armed it didn't look like that would slow them down much. The white knuckled grip one woman had on an old wood cutting axe was so tight she had to be giving herself splinters.
They all knew what Oozers did.
"I'm going to need some volunteers."
The crowd roared.
Above their voices the old school bell began its warning toll.
"Eric, I want you to start organizing search teams. No less than two in each, no one should go alone. Beth, make sure everyone's properly armed. I know there aren't enough guns but everyone should have a torch. Paul-"
As Michael barked orders the crowd packed close, clustered tight around the pair of them. Billy held Michael's arm, grip like iron, and shook.
He recognized the faces around them, every one familiar, but the one he was really looking for simply wasn't there.
/-what? Of course we're with you, Billy, don't be an idiot. If you think this is important we'll back you up. Friends stick together-/
Jerry wasn't here, but this worked too. The soldiers were so close, and Alex wouldn't get a better chance than this.
He shook, not in fear but in spasms. Muscles moved to make room, split into hardened tendrils that grew and curled and coiled into sharp spirals beneath his stolen skin. Teeth clenched as he concentrated, Alex closed his eyes.
It hurt, but the building pressure of the devastator was a familiar pain. The release would be worse, the whole coiled mass ripping outwards just as easily through his own skin as every soldier fortunate enough to be in range.
It would hurt, and Alex could hardly wait. He'd been made for this.
"-can't all go at once. We need to keep the camp safe, so some of you will have to stay behind. Remember what the Captain says. We are the last line of defense-"
Something small hit his side hard, glancing off and away. Alex startled, almost hitting back on reflex.
Almost. Instead he opened his eyes.
There was a kid, too big to be a toddler but still so very small, clinging to Michael's side and sobbing her eyes out.
Fuck.
Alex let go of Michael's arm.
The sentry gave him an absent nod before picking up his crying daughter.
"Shhh, it's alright sweetheart, I'm here." With one arm Michael held her close to his chest. The other handed off his rifle, and it was easier for Alex to focus on that.
The rifle passed to the hands of another sentry, and Alex dazedly noted it was different than what Ted and Billy had been armed with. Still an obvious antique, but well maintained and not quite as ancient in design.
/-do you think he stole it?"
"Shut up, Ted."
"Yeah, shut up. You may not have noticed but Mike's the one that actually writes the schedules, and I don't want to get stuck on a shit patrol because you had to be an ass-/
Michael's uniform wasn't the same either, still blue but styled differently. Alex didn't know it on sight, but some of the voices were more than willing to tell him the details. He honestly wasn't surprised at this point to learn Michael looked like he'd stepped right out of the Civil War, but he could appreciate the distraction as the voices started new tangents about dye availability and reloading mechanisms.
Those voices were easy to deal with. The ones flipping their shit about the kid were trickier to ignore.
"-and when I woke up you were gone, it was so loud and you said you wouldn't leave, not ever, but you were gone and I thought-"
"Shhh," Michael soothed, using his now empty hand to rub soft circles in his daughter's back. "I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere." He glanced back at Billy. "The bell must have woken her up."
She wasn't the only one. All across camp Billy could see people emerging from their tents, pulled to the growing crowd by the ringing of the bell.
That had been the plan, lure all the soldiers to one place at one time and exterminate the lot of them. It was one of Alex's favorite plans, so he hadn't even needed to stop and think about it. A bunch of time displaced deserters could hardly pose more of a threat than a modern military base.
/-we lose them?"
"I think so. Haven't heard gunshots since we crossed the stream, but ... Billy, why'd you stop? Do you hear something-/
Alex was starting to regret not thinking about it.
There were too many kids.
They emerged in twos and threes mostly, huddled with each other and the very tired looking adults watching them. They came from the center of camp, where the broad side of the schoolhouse and outer layer of tents provided shelter from the dark forest, and joined seamlessly with the gathered crowd.
Billy knew every one of them. He'd always been good with kids, practically raised his younger siblings, and volunteered to babysit when he wasn't on sentry duty. He knew their names, their faces, their favorite foods and colors and games.
He knew which to keep a closer eye on, the ones that hadn't been lucky enough to join the camp with a sibling or parent in tow. He knew that was a lot of them, but tried his best to give them a little more attention regardless.
Billy knew all of this, but Alex hadn't bothered to look. He was looking now.
He shivered, and the coiled mass of the devastator crouched seething in his chest faded back to flesh.
A soldier had killed Peters, of that he was certain. Most of these people weren't soldiers.
He'd stick to what he knew.
"Michael," Billy began, "Did Jerry come back yet? From his mission?"
Michael raised an eyebrow. "Billy, you were literally just watching the road. You know he hasn't."
Ted would have blinked in surprise, objected that he actually had just seen Jerry. The camp road only led to the camp, so he couldn't really have gone anywhere else. Not with the stolen cart, anyway.
Ted was dead though, so instead Billy nodded weakly.
"He knew the risk he was taking," Michael said gently, "Choosing to go looking for the Captain alone."
/-bullshit we can't all go, Cap needs us! There hasn't even been anything weird on the road all week! Security is fine, and Oozers are too dumb to notice if we're missing a man or three. I'm going whether you like it or not-/
"I know," said Billy, "But the three of us grew up together. He needs to know about Ted. I need to know if he's … if you find anything."
Michael nodded. "You'll be the first to know."
Soothed by her father's soft voice and encircling arms, the kid was quiet now. She stared at Billy, dark eyes wide.
Alex looked down.
"I can't … I need to go lie down," Billy said. "If you don't need me here."
Michael gave him a sympathetic look. "Of course. I'm honestly a little amazed you're still standing, kid, with the night you've had. Go rest."
"Not a kid," he muttered.
"Actually, how about you take Allie here with you? Just get her settled while I finish up-"
"No!" yelped Alex. "No," Billy repeated. "My hands are still so shaky I could drop her. I couldn't."
But Allie was already wriggling out of her father's arms. Michael let her down, and she reached for Billy's hand.
Billy reached back.
Alex jerked away.
"No," he repeated, "I can't."
Allie lowered her arm, face scrunched in confusion. She glanced back at her father.
Michael ruffled her hair with a hand, brown fingers combing through tight black curls.
"Sorry sweetie, Uncle Billy said no." He eyed Billy's pale face, his still shaking hands. "Go on then, get your rest. Try not to worry too much about Ted. No assholes lurking in the woods are just gonna get away with taking our people. Even if we can't save him, they'll pay."
"Right," said Billy. "They'll pay."
Alex didn't run away. He was making a tactical retreat, a vital part of any long term strategy, and relocating to a secure location to better assess captured intelligence.
Practically speaking, that meant hiding in Billy's tent.
The camp wasn't large, so it didn't take long for Billy to pick his way through. He avoided the others, both the would-be rescue team and the caretakers wrangling their frightened wards. No one bothered poor, shaken Billy, and he made it to his tent without incident.
A small stream traced the clearing's edge and Billy's was one of many tents clustered upon its bank. It wasn't in good shape, just as threadbare and worn as its neighbors, but the blue patch in one corner made it difficult to miss.
Ted still remembered how pissed Jerry had been about cutting up his spare jacket to mend it.
It was empty, which he'd been counting on. Alex needed to stop, and he needed to think.
Once fully inside he took a slow deep breath, more out of Billy's habit than his own.
Alex froze.
There was a familiar scent. Gunsmoke, turkeys, and human fear.
And blood. There hadn't been blood before.
Alex turned slowly, taking in the tent around him in minute detail. It was still small, still empty of people. There were Ted and Billy's bedrolls, their few personal belongings. Jerry had taken his, of course, as well as that spare pair of boots he was always lugging around. There was nothing new.
No, there was something.
Ted's bedroll, lumpy and misshapen as always, was a little too lumpy. Not enough to fit a person, but enough there was clearly something inside.
Something breathing.
As he crouched down to get a better look, Alex noticed fresh red stains just barely visible at the base.
Something bleeding.
In one swift movement Alex pried open the bedroll.
Buried between stained blankets and splayed with all the grace of the freshly dead lay a large white bird. It blinked at the sudden change, hazy orange eyes struggling to focus. Eventually it found Billy's face.
It blinked again, gave him a quick look up and down, and burst into hysterical laughter. It sounded painful, and Billy winced sympathetically. He knew that voice, though he'd never before heard it like this.
"Finally," choked out the Captain, "Took you long enough."