Slither - Edward Lee [92]
The lost gaze searched his face. "Yeah, I guess. I'll be able to tell if any of them are infected."
Loren assessed her comment. Interesting. "How can you tell, by the way? You seem to know a lot about this. If a person's infected initially, how do you know?"
"By looking at him," she said. "My boyfriendHowie-he turned real fast. Had to have been less than an hour before the signs started showing."
"What are the signs?"
"Your skin turns to this mucky yellow-same color as the eggs. After a while you even develop red specks along with the yellow."
More information of interest. She's talking about the mutagenic element. Contagion would depend on the level of viral admission, and also antibody resistence of each infectee. And Loren also knew-based on his knowledge of the Trichinella order itself-that a positive infection could bring about much, much more than a change in skin pigmentation. No need to tell her that part, he considered. Then he remembered Annabelle. Hopefully Trent's already found her by now. I'll just go grab Nora, and then we can get the hell off this island. But-as- he was about to do so he thought he noticed ...
Wait a minute ...
Her dull gaze came alert. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Loren was looking at the crotch of her bikini bottoms. "What's ... what's that? Down there?" He pointed.
The girl slowly looked down at herself. An uneven crescent of skin emerged right at her bikini line.
The crescent was yellow, almost like a stain, or a rash.
Then dread seemed to bloom over her head like a halo. "Oh no, no, no!" she groaned.
She yanked up her T-shirt.
"No, she whispered.
Her abdomen had turned yellow, with bloodred specks. Her eyes welled with tears as, next, a dozen motile ova began to inch out of her bikini bottoms.
Loren didn't even have time to lunge for the gun-or even implore her not to do it-when she put the revolver's barrel to her head and-
Bam!
Leona's horror was gone, along with the side of her head. Loren could do little more than stare through the shock. The woods froze around the lagoon, the silence now somehow more deafening than the discharge of the bullet.
Shit, was all he could think.
He quickly pushed her body overboard, then picked up the gun and made a swift exit off the boat ...
(III)
Darkness was beginning to sift into the woods when Trent heard the shot.
He froze in place, eyes snapped open.
Yes, it sounded like a single, distant gunshot.
No. It couldn't be. He patted his gun belt, felt the butt of his army-issue 9mm strapped snugly into the holster. There's only one person on this island who's armed, he reminded himself. Me.
The mainland was only a mile or two away; sounds could carry in strange ways, especially over water. Probably a truck backfiring, he considered. Or maybe a sonic boom from a jet flying back to the air force base.
Yes. Maybe.
He stomped through most of the island's western end, but still no sign of Annabelle. This shit is getting old, he thought with a gripe. I don't care how goodlooking she is. I'm tired of bushwhacking through these woods ...
And in the back of his mind he remained all too aware of Nora's and Loren's concerns. Maybe this worm stuff really is serious, too. They seem to think so, and they're experts.
But during his annoying trek, he hadn't encountered any worms, nor their accommodating ova.
Trent began to feel like an idiot before long. A wildgoose chase, only the goose is a brick shit-house blonde. His watch told him it was almost time to be heading back. Nora would have more information about the dead body out in the water-If there really IS a dead body. The kid could've been mistaken. Annabelle was probably back at the campsite by now ...
Probably drunk, he added the thought, from that flask full of rum. And I'm running around out here looking for her ... More irritation bristled.
Yeah, he thought. I'll bet she's passed out drunk somewhere, so to hell with this. I'm going