Slither - Edward Lee [81]
Imagination, he hoped. He'd felt so lousy the past day or so, but wishful thinking told him that maybe it was just the flu or something. Trekking back to the boat he quickly got lost-the island was a labyrinth of vegetation-but for the entire time he kept glancing at his arms ... to see if his skin was beginning to yellow.
Like Jonas.
Like a nightmare, he thought.
But he'd seen what had happened to his brotherthe most morbid infection-and he'd seen the worms himself. He hadn't stayed around long enough for a detailed look. The simple glimpses of the long, pink, hoselike things had been enough.
Ruth wasn't bullshitting .. .
The air was still, the heat beating down when he climbed back aboard. He swatted at mosquitoes, squinting through sweat.
Part of him still couldn't believe what he'd seen ...
Ruth lay sprawled across the dingy cot downstairs, either sleeping off the oppressive heat or ...
The thought seized Slydes.
She ain't dead, is she?
He had to jostle her a full minute before she came awake.
"Wake your ass up," he ordered. "It's time to leave."
Her face, arms, and legs looked tacky. Her eyes puffed up ... almost as bad as her lips. When she managed to reclaim some awareness, she said, "Did you bring Jonas back?"
"No. Jonas is ... sick. We're leaving without him-"
"What!"
"And we'll bring back a doctor," he told her. How could he tell he the truth? We're leaving without him 'cause he got infected by the worms, and he turned yellow-with red spots-and he'll try to pass that shit on to us.
Slydes wasn't prepared to say that.
Ruth didn't argue with the lie-her true face. She didn't care anymore, and neither did Slydes. "I just wanna go home," she half sobbed.
"We're gonna do that, right now." Slydes helped her up the steps. The long pink T-shirt was pasted to her flesh now, her blond hair darkened from so much sweat. When he grabbed her arm, the skin felt slippery, but ...
It don't look like she's turnin' yellow, he observed, and me neither. That's all Slydes could hope for.
Abovedecks, the hot air stood still, and the sun glared off the water so harshly he could barely see. "The tide ain't high enough, but we're going anyway."
"Good, good! Just start the motor and go!"
The shrill exclamation grated his nerves, only to be answered by a sound even more shrill when he turned the ignition key. The engine chugged as metal shimmied.
"What the fuck's wrong now?" Ruth wailed.
Slydes barked back-with more nervousness than authority: "Sounds like there's no oil in the damn crankcase!" and then he hauled open the engine compartment on the back deck.
Smoke rose.
When Slydes hunkered down and looked, his heart fell into his belly like someone dropping a stone off a high bridge.
"Whatever it is-fix it!" Ruth screamed.
But there'd be no fixing this.
"Someone fucked us good," he conceded to the sight. "The engine's grenaded."
Ruth crawled forward on bare, scraped knees, the dark circles under her eyes like charcoal smudges. "What? What?"
"Someone drilled holes right through the valve covers into the cams ..."
Ruth didn't want to believe it. "Who would do that? Why would someone do that?"
A relevant question, but the answer wouldn't do them any good.
The V -8s valve covers did indeed exhibit several holes, but the closer Slydes looked the more it occurred to him that they weren't drill marks. The tiny holes varied in diameter, their edges ... irregular.
Slydes put his face right up to a cover. "Looks more like something burned through the metal ...
"Fuck!" Ruth blurted. She began to sob again. "What-what's that down there?" A dirty finger pointed to the bottom of the engine compartment.
Slydes saw it at once.
Curled up in the oily bilge were several dead worms.
(II)
Annabelle threw her snorkeling gear down in the sand. "That was really gross. Did you see that?"
"Sure did," Trent said. He sat down to rest, trying very hard not to overtly stare at Annabelle's almost totally naked body. "Looks like those little pink parasites made mincemeat out of your bristleworm nest. Chalk