Slither - Edward Lee [58]
"Yes, sir. Should we clean the room for another host?" the sergeant asked.
"Not necessary. With a success rate like this? We'll be leaving very soon."
"What about the one in the next room, sir? The female from the first group."
"Oh yes, the in vitro. Leave her to hang awhile, we'll take readings on her till the very last minute."
"Yes, sir."
"As you were," the major said and left the room.
"He's so happy, you'd think he just got laid," the corporal said when it was safe.
"That's an officer for you." The sergeant took a last look through the glass. Now the worms were massing over the host, to eat.
The sergeant pulled a lever and then the specimen room filled with orange-hued gas, a combination dehydrant-bacticide aerosol. "All in a day's work," he said.
Whatever you say, Sarge, the corporal thought.
cm
"Christ, I feel like I just got run down by a semi rig," Jonas groaned. He dragged himself to the deck, a hand to his head. He squinted past the bow in disbelief. "You're shitting me! It's almost dark."
"No, shit, Sherlock," Slydes remarked from the captain's chair. "We both slept the whole day away."
Jonas scratched his straggly head. "Ain't that the damnedest thing ... You sick?"
Slydes made a face. The old cabin cruiser creaked as it pitched slightly in the water. "I feel sicker than a shit- eatin' dog. Don't know what it could be."
"Me neither." Jonas steadied himself on a stanchion cable. His face was pale as cream. "I thought maybe the dope was too strong ... but you didn't smoke none. And I've never been seasick in my life. Shit, man."
"How's Ruth? Is she sick, too?"
Jonas mouthed Ruth's name, then jerked his gaze around the deck. "Ain't she up here?"
"Hell no. I thought she been belowdecks with you all day."
.We ... fuck! I can't remember! We smoked some of my weed last night at that old shack and got pretty fucked up. Then ..." Jonas worked what little brainpower he had. "I came back to the boat but she passed out in the shack."
Slydes grimaced when he leaned up and looked at his watch. "Well, go find her and bring her back 'cause the tide's gonna start coming in soon."
Jonas looked to the darkening island and moaned. "Aw, man, I don't want to go lookin' for her. I feel like shit. Let's just say if she don't show up by high tide, we leave her."
Slydes spat over the side, grimacing at a taste in his mouth like when he was ten and his daddy made him eat some dirty cat litter for talking back to him. "You must've passed those college smarts out your ass the last time you took a shit, Jonas. If we leave her here, she'll get really pissed and turn our whole pot operation over to the cops once she finds her way back to the mainland. We can't leave her, you moron."
Jonas waved a bored hand. "No, but we can kill her. Maybe I'm just getting old, brother, but chicks are just too much hassle. She'll come back on her own before long. Then we'll take off, and when we're out to deep water,-we'll-just toss her over the side."
Slydes felt too lousy to do much calculating. "If we kill her, who's gonna clean the bathroom back at the house?"
Jonas rubbed his face, nodding. "Good point."
"So get off your skinny, pot-smokin' butt and go bring her back."
Jonas wearily climbed off the boat and staggered into the woods.
Slydes knew they would undoubtedly kill Ruth one of these days-probably on a gator troll: no evidencebut not just yet. Not till I tag her a few more times, he resolved. As the sky darkened, the island's noises rose. Slydes felt like throwing up again-the boat was rocking more now as the tide began to draw in-but he knew there was nothing left to upchuck. Don't even feel like drinkin' beer, he realized, and that meant he was really sick.
What'd I come down with?
Then he thought of those things.
Those squishy yellow bugs he'd found on himself last night. Slydes ground his teeth at the image. Had one of them bitten him, and passed him some germs?
Well, shit, goddamn ...
A mild fever seemed to be seeping into him now; he was just