Run - Blake Crouch [87]
The men stopped several feet away.
One of them came forward and Jack felt hands running up and down his sides, his legs.
“Clean.”
“Go check the other guy. You, sit up.”
Jack sat up.
“Where’s Benny?”
One of the guards produced a blindfolded rail of a man, naked, beaten to within an inch of his life, bruises covering his body and face, his hands cuffed and a chain linking his ankles above his bare feet.
The tall, bearded man pointed a large revolver at Jack’s face and asked him his name.
“Jack.”
“Is there a bomb in your van?”
“No.”
The one who’d frisked Jack peered over the front passenger door, said, “This one’s completely checked out.”
The bearded man stared at Jack. “Jack, I want to introduce you to Benny.” Benny’s handler gave a hard tug on the leash, dragging him within a foot of Jack. “Here’s the deal. If Benny likes you, I’m going to blow your brains out all over the road. If he doesn’t, we’ll talk.” He looked at Benny. “Ready, boy? Ready to do some work?”
Benny nodded. He was salivating.
“Benny, I’m going to take your blindfold off and show you our new friend.”
Benny urinated on the pavement.
“If you do good, I’ll give you some water and a treat. Are you going to do a good job?”
Benny made a sound that wasn’t human, and then the bearded man nodded to his handler, who pulled off the blindfold. The wildman crouched in front of Jack. Eyes ringed with black and yellow bruises but still a deep clarity and intensity in them. He was inches from Jack’s face. Smelled terrible, like he’d been bedding down in his own shit, and he seemed to be staring at something on the back of Jack’s skull.
Jack looked up at the man holding the revolver. “What the fuck is—”
Never saw the thing move, but Benny was suddenly on top of him and trying to tear Jack’s throat out with his teeth. Took three men to drag it away and several jolts from the cattle prod before it finally collapsed in the road and curled up moaning in the fetal position.
Jack scrambled back toward the van, trying to catch his breath, the man with the revolver moving toward him, saying, “It’s all right. This is good news. If Benny had crawled into your lap and started cooing, you wouldn’t be with us anymore.”
“What is that thing?”
“Benny’s our pet. Our affected pet. He checks out everyone who tries to come into the city. I’m Brian, by the way.” He offered a hand, helped Jack onto his feet.
“Is the city safe?” Jack asked.
“Yeah. We figure there’s ten, fifteen thousand people here. Many have left, gone north toward the border, but that’s a rough trip. It’s heavily guarded up there. We’ve got all the roads into town protected.”
“No affected in the city?”
“Nope.”
“How’s that possible?”
“It was cloudy the night of the event over this part of Montana.”
“You haven’t been attacked?”
“Not by any force that stood a chance. We’ve got five thousand armed men ready to fuck shit up on a moment’s notice.”
Jack looked around, the RPMs of his heart falling back toward baseline.
“Has a woman with two children passed through in the last week?”
“I don’t think so. You have a picture?”
“No.”
“Your wife and kids?”
Jack nodded.
“You’re the first person to even come up this road in three days. Are they coming here to meet you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know where they are. We were separated in Wyoming.” He looked at the rest of the crew. “Any of you seen them?”
Nothing but headshakes and replies of “sorry.”
“My boy is affected,” Jack said. “He isn’t symptomatic or violent, but he saw the lights. He’s seven years old. Would you let him in?”
“How’s it possible he isn’t like the others?”
“I don’t know, but he isn’t. His name is Cole.”
“We’ll keep an eye out for them,” Brian said. “If he isn’t hostile, we’ll let your family through.”
“You swear to me?”
“We don’t kill kids.” Brian pointed through the windshield at Donald. “Friend of yours?”
“I picked him up this morning outside of White Sulphur Springs, just walking down the middle of the road. He needs medical attention.”
“Well, there’s shelters