The Arklay Outbreak

Chapter Twenty-Two

“We should have found the train by now,” Richard said, shaking his head.

“Quiet,” Enrico ordered, turning around suddenly. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Enrico paused, tilting his head to listen to the silence surrounding them. “It sounded like a gun shot.”

Richard’s eyebrows went up questioningly. “Do you think we should ...?”

“Let’s go,” Enrico said, taking off back in the direction they came from. Richard followed right after him.

Suddenly, their walkie-talkies began shouting at them in Ken’s voice. “Enrico! Anybody! You’ve got to get here right away!”

Enrico snatched his walkie-talkie off his belt. “Ken! What’s going on?”

“This mansion! Something crazy is going on here, man! Me and Forest found this guy and he attacked us! We had to shoot him but he just kept coming!”

“Ken, what are you saying? Are you talking about Coen?”

“No, man! He wasn’t alive! We shot him ten times and he didn’t go down!” Ken screeched. “We’re in trouble here! You’ve got to get over here right away! The people here, they’re ... they’re like monsters or something!”

Enrico looked up at Richard. In the light from his flashlight, Richard’s face was a mass of bright shadows, but the look in his eye was unmistakable. He was scared.

“I’m telling you they ain’t human!” Ken cried out. “We shot the guy ten times and it didn’t even slow him down! And there’s these dogs, only they ain’t dogs, and all their skin was melted off, and –” His voice cut out; he had let go of the talk button.

Enrico shook his head, a bewildered expression on his face. “What’s he talking about? I’ve never heard him talk like that before.”

“I don’t know,” Richard said uncertainly. “It makes no sense.”

“Dogs with their skin melted off? Is he crazy or something?”

“We should check it out, Rico. If Ken’s freaked out like that, we should go after him.”

Enrico spoke into the walkie-talkie. “Ken, we’re coming right now, okay? It’s going to take us some time to get there.”

“Just hurry, man,” Ken begged. “They’re everywhere in here, and I can’t find my way out. I don’t even know where Forest went. You’ve got get here fast. I can’t hold them off.”

“We’re coming right now. Just hold on, okay?”

Another voice came from the walkie-talkie. “This is Ed. I heard the shots and I’m coming that way now. Hold on, Ken. I’ll be there in just a minute.”

“Be careful, man,” Ken said, his voice choking up. “Look out for the dogs. And if you shoot someone, keep your eye on him to make sure he doesn’t get back up.”

“We’ll all be there soon, Ken. Just keep safe,” Enrico said.

“What about Rebecca?” Richard asked.

“I know,” Enrico said. “Rebecca, meet me and Rich at the helicopter and we’ll go to the mansion from there, okay? Do you copy?”

There was nothing from the walkie-talkie. Enrico tried again and got the same thing. He stuck the walkie-talkie on his belt and swore loudly. “Rich,” he ordered, “Go find her and meet me back at the chopper. We have to find out what the hell is going on.”

“Right,” Richard said, heading off down the tracks. Enrico headed into the woods and back in the direction of the downed helicopter.

Richard pulled his gun from its holster as he ran. As a member of the S.T.A.R.S. unit for ten years, he had carefully developed police instincts. Right now, those instincts screamed at him that he was headed for danger. With Ken going crazy and Rebecca not responding, they were in serious trouble. And they still had not located the train.

When he realized there was someone on the tracks, he stopped so fast he almost fell over. Less than thirty feet away was a man standing right along the tracks, dressed in a long white shirt, with long black hair covering his face. He stood motionless, his arms hanging limply at his sides. There was nobody else in the woods. It was William Coen, it had to be.

“Freeze,” Richard said, pointing his gun at him. “This is the police. Move and you’re a dead man.”

The man lifted his head, but Richard could not make out his face in the darkness. He could hear something moving around him, hissing and slithering like a bed of snakes. He glanced around him nervously but saw nothing.

The man held out his arm. Richard opened his mouth to say something, but it never came out. In a flash, he was under attack from all sides. The gun flew out of his grasp and he fell to the ground, flailing wildly as a million sparks of pain erupted all across his body. He did not have time to scream.

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