Part 6 (1/2)

20.

Liz Clark sat at her workstation chewing on the end of a pencil and stared blankly at the wall. Phillip had gone to bed and she insisted she would join him after catching up on some paperwork. Now that she sat alone at her desk, she found it hard to concentrate. It didn't help to know just down the hall two strangers slept.

Something was odd about the two men and the tall loud one with the long hair gave her the w.i.l.l.i.e.s. She didn't like the way he looked at her all the time. He sure didn't look like a prison guard to her, but then again, when had she ever seen one except for in the movies? Still, he gave her the creeps and she felt uneasy being alone with those two. Liz loved Phillip dearly but he was an intellectual, not somebody who was likely to fight to defend the honor of his lady. Even if he was, the tall guard looked like he was perfectly capable of pummeling her Phillip.

She clicked off her desk light and accepted the fact that no paperwork would get done that night. She was just being paranoid. When Ron and Lisa got back, those two guards would be on their way, and things would get back to normal. Liz heard a creak in the floor behind her and she spun around her chair to see what made the noise.

Once Carl heard the steady breathing coming from Howard's bed he relaxed a little. Howard was a skinny little know-it-all p.u.s.s.y, but Carl had to admit, he liked the guy. They made a pretty good team. But he had a feeling old Howie would probably get in the way of what he had planned tonight.

He quietly slipped out of bed and stuck his head out the doorway of their room. The coast was clear and he walked down the hall as softly as possible.

The door to the Clark's room was open a crack and Carl could make out the form of Phillip in bed. He saw the steady rise and fall of his chest and Carl smiled to himself. This was going to be easier than he thought.

He slowly walked down the hall to the lab area, the steady hum of the ventilation system drowning out the sound of his footsteps, and he reached the open door. Liz sat at desk with her back to him. She was leaning back in her chair and looked like she was chewing on the end of a pencil. Carl could smell the shampoo scent from her hair and his pulse quickened. His grip on the doorframe tightened and he considered maybe, just maybe, she'd be down for it. There was no way that scrawny little p.r.i.c.k of a husband knew how to handle her. Maybe alone in this tube in the middle of nowhere she was aching for it. Asking for it. Wanting it. He couldn't decide which was hotter a begging him to stop or begging for it harder. Maybe he'd get lucky and have it both ways.

He put his hand on the comforting bulge created by the Glock tucked in his pants and s.h.i.+fted his weight to the other foot. The floor creaked and Liz turned around.

21.

The most challenging thing about the cold climate was how it slowed it down and made it stiff. It didn't find the cold uncomfortable as much as it found it annoying. The cold dulled its senses. Made it groggy and sluggish.

Of course, the prey made it simple enough to follow them. It could smell them for what seemed like miles and it was easy enough to track them by their odor trail alone.

It was actually somewhat pleased they fled from the place that reeked of death and decay. This pair was the last of their kind in that place. Perhaps they would lead it to a place far less rank and with greater opportunities for hunting.

After it made the slow and steady journey of following the prey it was pleased to discover such a place did indeed exist. Once inside the structure, it could clearly smell and hear two more of them. In addition to that, it could smell faint signatures of others recently present. Excellent.

The structure was warm and it decided to hide and wait for full strength to return as the warmth slowly thinned its blood and eased the ache in its bones. These creatures seemed to prefer the structure interiors as well and it saw no other buildings in the area. The prey would remain close. It would wait for the proper time to strike and savor the final moments of the hunt. The final moments before the kill.

22.

”Carl, you startled me,” said Liz. ”I didn't hear you come in.”

”What are you still doing up? I figured you'd be tucked in with your husband.”

”Oh, just finis.h.i.+ng up some work. I was actually just heading off to bed now.” She got up from her chair and offered Carl a forced smile. He stared back at her blankly and didn't move from the doorway. ”I suppose I could ask you the same thing. Aren't you just exhausted?”

”I'm okay,” he replied quietly. ”I'm still a bit keyed up, I guess it must be the coffee. I was hoping the two of us could have a little chat.”

Liz took a step back and leaned against the desk. ”I'd love to talk, but let's do it over breakfast if you wouldn't mind. I'm pretty beat.”

To Liz's relief, Carl moved from the doorway and walked over to the bulletin board on the wall. He looked at the a.s.sortment of snapshots, mostly of her and Phillip on their adventures. ”Oh, I won't keep you but a few minutes,” he said. ”It's been a while since I talked to a pretty lady. You understand, right? Cooped up with all those men, a fellow can feel pretty lonely, you know?”

Liz took a step towards the door and Carl matched her, once again blocking the door. ”You must feel a little cooped up yourself, I imagine.”

”No, I'm fine,” she snapped. ”Good night, Carl.” She lowered her head and walked forward, praying that he would step aside and let her pa.s.s. He didn't budge and she stopped abruptly before b.u.mping into him. He reached to grab her arm and Liz flinched, trying to pull it away. She wasn't quite fast enough and he clamped onto her forearm with his ma.s.sive hand.

”What are you doing? Let go of me!”

He pushed her back into the wall and tried to put his other hand over her mouth as she struggled. She could smell his sour breath and dirty hair.

She screamed out her husband's name before he clamped his hand over her mouth and nose, m.u.f.fling her screaming. Liz opened her mouth and found the fleshy part of Carl's hand. She bit down hard and tasted blood.

”Motherf.u.c.king b.i.t.c.h!” Carl threw her to the floor. Liz called for her husband again. ”Shut the f.u.c.k up.” He kicked her in the stomach.

Phillip appeared in the doorway, a look of panic and confusion on his face, as he attempted to finish putting on his robe. He saw Liz on the floor and went for her.

Carl pulled the gun from his belt and jammed the muzzle into Philip's chest before he could reach Liz. ”Not so fast, little man.” Carl gave him a push backwards. Phillip stumbled and fell back onto the desktop behind him.

Carl kept the Glock trained on his face. ”My buddy and I will be out of your hair soon enough, but first me and the little lady here are going to have some fun. Now get the f.u.c.k out of here unless you want to be a widower in about five seconds.”

”Don't hurt her,” Phillip stammered. ”Please. Money! We have some cash. Credit cards. Take whatever you want, just don't...”

”I ain't interested in your money! Now I'm not going to tell you again. Get out.”

Liz let out an ear-piercing scream and jumped from the floor. She attempted to smash the gun out of Carl's hand by bringing both fists down on his arm. Phillip took the opportunity and also lunged at Carl. He lost his balance and all three of them crashed to the floor. Carl tried to block Liz's frantic blows with one hand while trying to hold onto the gun with his other hand as Phillip tried to wrestle it away.

Carl's grip on the gun loosened as Phillip desperately tried to pry it from his fingers. Liz clawed at his face and his vision was blurred from blood and sweat that ran into his eyes. Just as Carl feared that he might let go, his index finger found the trigger and he yanked it. The Glock recoiled. He felt Phillip let go of the gun and Liz stopped hitting him.

23.

Howard sat up in his bunk, confused and startled. Did he get woken up by a loud noise or was that part of his dream? In his dreams, a woman was crying and screaming, but he couldn't remember the details. He looked over at Carl's empty bed and then heard the same woman's voice crying once again from down the hall. It was Liz. He shot out of bed and headed for the commotion.

He reached the lab and it took a moment for his mind to comprehend the scene before him. Liz was kneeling on the floor cradling Phillip's head in her arms. His eyes were open, his chest covered in blood. Liz, also covered in blood, rocked back and forth and sobbed.

Carl stood in the corner of the room holding the gun and wiping his face off with a paper towel. He noticed Howard and started to chuckle. ”Hey man, sorry to wake you.” He hawked a wad of phlegm and blood into the paper towel and tossed it to the floor. ”I gotta hand it to this little girl, she's a firecracker. Got in a few good licks.” He inspected the deep gash in his palm where Liz had bitten.

”b.a.s.t.a.r.d!” Liz screamed. Howard jumped at the noise.

”All right now,” Carl said to Howard. ”Before you get your panties in a bunch, let me explain.”

”He tried to rape me and then he murdered Phillip,” Liz cried.

”Yeah well, I guess that does pretty much sum it up,” Carl chuckled. ”Come on Missy,” he placed the muzzle of the Glock on Liz's temple and pulled her up by her hair. Liz cried out and Phillip's head fell to the floor with a sick thump. ”We ain't done yet. You'll have plenty of time to cry over your dead hubby later if you're a good girl.”