Stones: Experiment (Stones #3) Page 21

  Why won’t you answer me?

  “Afraid so. He’s not picking up his c’link.”

  A warm glow appears in the darkness. Opening her eyes, Jessica is lying in a fetal position at the foot of an immense tree, resting comfortably between two exposed roots. Vines covered with green leaves hang from its branches within a few feet from her face. She reaches up and strokes a leaf and the silky white fuzz on its surface. The chatter of birds plays above her, their sweet voices piercing the pristine silence.

  The fragrance of fresh raspberries wafts past her.

  Don’t leave me, Jessica. Please.

  Raising herself up on her elbows, her gaze sweeps in a circle, searching for the source of the familiar voice.

  “I’m here, Matt.” Jessica reaches for a vine and pulls herself up, leaning against the tree for support. “Where are you?”

  They’re coming closer. Don’t let them kill me.

  Jessica steps away from the tree and walks through the maze of vines engulfing her, emerging into bright sunlight.

  She stares in amazement.

  The great green tree with its hanging leaves stands alone on an endless desert, an oasis of life in a sea of undulating sand dunes the color of deep rusty red. Climbing to the top of the nearest rise, she scans the surroundings from horizon to horizon, looking for Matt.

  Come now, before it’s too late.

  Her pulse quickens.

  Cupping both hands to her mouth, she shouts. “Matt! I can hear you!” Her voice spreads out across the wide expanse until it dissipates into silence.

  No answer.

  She tries again. “Tell me where you are.”

  The still air of the desert stirs, lifting Jessica’s brown locks from her shoulders. A drop of water splashes on her face. Thunder rolls in the distance, far away across the dunes. She looks up at a clear blue sky. An advancing front of dark clouds boils above her head, the leading edge broad and deep as it swallows the sky above her, plunging her into shadow.

  The shifting air turns to wind, and the isolated drops of rain become a driving storm. Thunder rings again, this time much closer. A long vein of lightning breaks from the clouds overhead, splitting into multiple fingers as it touches the sand only a few meters away.

  Jessica, I love you. Never forget.

  Another bolt of lightning strikes on the other side, sending a shockwave through the air and causing a tingle to run the length of her spine. Panic surges through her chest, tightening muscles and making it difficult to breathe. Rain beats on her head and into her eyes. It’s hard to see.

  Breaking into a run, Jessica traverses the ridge of the dune and descends its slope on the other side, stumbling, falling, rolling and rising to her feet. At the bottom, she keeps running in a straight line up the side of another wave of sand.

  “Matt! Where are you?”

  No answer.

  When she crests the top of the dune, she sees him.

  Below her, Matt stands in a small depression between two high ridges of sand. Loose clothing on his body flows and ripples like the movement of water.

  Jessica lunges, falling again and rolling down the steep sandy slope until she comes to a rest at the bottom only a few feet from Matt. Thunder shoots out of the clouds overhead, striking the top of a dune a dozen meters away. She claps her hands over her ears and looks up at Matt.

  He doesn’t notice. His arms reach up to the sky, eyes wide with fear, a look of horror spreading across his face. His mouth drops open.

  She hears him clearly now, his voice inside her head.

  Goodbye.

  “I’m here, Matt.” Staggering to her feet, she wraps her arms him like a mother protecting her child from imaginary monsters.

  But he’s not there. Her arms are empty. He’s nothing but a holo image.

  In the pounding rain and raging wind, her hands move back and forth through Matt’s body.

  “Matt, where are you? Please tell me.” She brings her face close to his and looks into his eyes.

  The same eyes drop for a moment and look up, staring straight ahead, almost as if he can see her. His lips move.

  I love you. Always.

  Tears stream down Jessica’s face. “Matt, what are they doing to you? Try to listen. Talk to me.”

  Matt stares ahead, eyes growing larger, some horror approaching.

  In the pounding rain, Jessica’s long brown hair is soaked and dripping, her chest heaving in and out with great sobs. She reaches a trembling hand up and moves her fingers in the air past his forehead, along the bridge of his nose, over his lips. Her hand traces a line on his chest, stopping at his sternum.

  And then she remembers.

  Drawing close to his face, she begins to whisper.

  “Listen to me, Matt. Use your armor. Press on your chest. Right here.” She pushes in the open air on his chest at the sternum, looking into his eyes, hoping for some sign of recognition. “Matt. Try to hear me.”

  But there’s no response.

  Unable to hold back the emotion any longer, her head falls back. Staring at the sky into the beating rain, she lets her mouth drop open. A long wail erupts from her throat, lost in the sound of the wind whipping across empty dunes.

  Matt begins to fade, as if slowly dissolved by the wind and rain. When all trace of him is gone, Jessica drops to her knees and stares at the empty spot in the sand where he had stood.

  Bending, she cups the wet sand in her hands. Water runs down her cheeks and drips off her lips.

  Please don’t let him die.

  CHAPTER 52

  Matt beats on the side of the glass sphere with his fists, keeping an eye on the two blurry forms standing on the other side. He reaches out to them with his whole being, yearning for a sign that they see him. Calling them closer.

  The larger one lifts her hand with the palm facing toward him.

  They see me!

  His heart leaps, and he spurs himself on to make even more noise.

  Within seconds, his hands are heavy and weak. They drop, unable to move, turning hard and lifeless. With his last remaining strength, he pushes back, trying to stay alert. A tidal wave of sleep and fatigue crashes down, forcing his eyelids to close. His arms and legs are no longer part of him, and they float away from his torso. His body and spirit go limp, stripped away layer by layer until they melt into the viscous liquid.

  For a time, he slips into a void of nothing, not even blackness.

  Vague images appear in his mind.

  Slowly, it comes into focus. A single brown circle with a black dot in the middle, beautiful beyond words. Then another identical circle appears next to it, each of them enclosed by a sea of white.

  The image pulls on Matt. He yearns to touch it, to become one with it. When he tries, the image vanishes.

  In time, it reappears, faintly at first, and then brighter and clearer than before. The brown circles float in a sea of white and move in folds of pink with a black fringe. A ridge appears between the circles, and a fuzzy dark line above each one.

  A vague memory stirs. With effort, his fingers go up to his face and run along the bridge of his nose, spreading out to the left and right, touching the structures. It is the same.

  Eyes.

  He is looking at eyes. Beautiful and serene.

  Fighting back the urge to touch them, he concentrates on seeing as much as he can, waiting until the rest of the face comes into view.

  And then he sees her, a woman standing only a few feet away. The face triggers the faint memory of a name.

  Jessica.

  As if on their own, his lips begin to move.

  “Jessica, where are you?”

  The words leave his mouth without thought or effort. He doesn’t know where they come from, but they sound comfortable and right, like honey on his lips. As he listens to himself speak, recognition and memories flood through his mind.

  “Can you hear me?” Matt pleads, waiting for an answer.

  But Jessica is silent.


  She walks toward him, her eyes focused on something behind him. She moves by, ignoring his frantic efforts to get her attention. He reaches out to her in desperation and panic, but she passes through his arms like he isn’t there, a look of total disinterest on her face.

  He turns as she goes by. “Why won’t you answer me?”

  Matt stares at her back, hoping against hope that she will see him and realize how close they are. But Jessica continues to move away.

  Perhaps she saw him and didn’t care.

  Impossible. He throws the thought away as soon as it crosses his mind.

  “Don’t leave me Jessica. Please.”

  She stops and turns her face slowly toward him. Hope rises up in his chest, and he waits for any indication, no matter how slight, that she sees him. As he catches a glimpse of her brown eyes, she fades into blackness, replaced by another image.

  It isn’t Jessica this time, but it has a roughly humanoid shape with arms, legs, drooping belly and an oversized head. Fangs protrude through the leathery hide of its eyeless face, marking the location of a lopsided mouth. A foul-smelling ooze drips from open sores splashed across its grotesque body. The huge mouth opens like a bottomless black pit, and the nightmare takes a step toward Matt, its arms lifting up to show long claws growing from the tips of its fingers.

  A belt of claw-shaped stones dangles from its waist.

  For an instant, Matt stares. The image is familiar. But the recognition slips away when the monster morphs into two, then four identical shapes, all pressing forward, coming closer.

  Matt senses movement behind him and turns.

  Jessica appears again, balancing a long rifle in her arms, hugging it tight against her shoulder. Matt waits for her to fire at the beasts, sure that she has come back to protect him. But she stands like a statue, looking straight ahead with a face devoid of emotion.

  He shouts to her in desperation. “They’re coming closer. Don’t let them kill me.”

  As if on cue, the four misshapen figures move closer, their mouths dropping open, as though ready to pounce on him and devour his flesh. He tries to run back to Jessica, but it’s as if he has no feet. Looking down, his legs are stuck in mud to the knees. Panic.

  “Come now, Jessica. Before it’s too late.”

  When he looks up again, the four monsters are eight. They encircle him, pressing close and reaching in with bony hands. One of them runs its claws across his arm, cutting it open like a razor and exposing white bone beneath layers of muscle. The others flail their arms at him from all sides, slashing, cutting, tearing, ripping. His knees begin to buckle. No longer able to see Jessica, he calls out to her one last time before death overtakes him.

  “Jessica, I love you. Never forget.”

  One of the beasts rises up, its mouth gaping open, coming down on his head.

  Only time for one more word.

  “Goodbye.”

  Then he looks up, preparing to receive the final blow. Equal parts of horror and fear surge through his body, causing his arms to shoot above his head in a futile effort to block the open jaws.

  Another one of the black shapes lunges, slamming into his belly and knocking him onto the ground. At the same time, the jaws of the beast above him close tight in the air where his head had been a nanosecond before. It slams into his thighs, shattering bone and pinning him against the rocks beneath.

  Jessica stands in the circle of demons, looking at him.

  A smile of perfect peace and serenity graces her lovely face.

  “I love you,” Matt said. “Always.”

  All of the beasts lunge at his bloody, broken body.

  Finally, Matt hears the voice of Jessica, clear and pristine, above the sound of the fury.

  Use your armor. Press on your chest. Right here.

  Her fingers touch him. With his remaining strength, he brings his hand down hard on the same spot where he felt her fingers.

  For a time, nothing happens.

  Then images of the feeding demons begin to fade, receding from view, replaced by a black void.

  Hours pass. When he opens his eyes, he’s floating inside the sphere, covered in blue skin.

  His mind is clear.

  CHAPTER 53

  “Jessica, wake up.”

  Her eyes flutter open. It’s dark, and she’s lying in three inches of water. People move like shadows on the deck of the submarine bridge. Intense white lights come on, blinding her eyes. She reaches her hands up to cover them until they grow accustomed to the brightness.

  Blue smoke drifts above her. The sharp odor of burnt plastic mixed with gasoline permeates the air.

  “I thought I lost you.” Eva’s black hair hangs from her head as she looks at Jessica.

  “How long was I out?”

  “A couple of minutes.”

  Jessica works herself up into a sitting position. “What happened? We got hit, right?” She scans the bridge.

  “A depth charge right up our a—”

  “Eva, can you move her to the side? We need room for our equipment. We’re bringing in new stuff. Everything in here’s fried from the blast.”

  Eva looks up. “Got it.” Her eyes drop back to Jessica. “Can you walk?”

  “I think so.”

  Eva stands up and pulls Jessica to her feet. “Follow me. Looks like we’re out of danger now. Let’s find a place to talk.”

  Jessica follows her through the open door at the back of the bridge, through the tubular corridor and past a corner to the right.

  “The mess hall is the only place open and undamaged.” Eva ducks through an opening and into a room on the left. “It’s tight, but it’ll do.”

  She’s right. There’s barely enough room for two people to sit, face to face, with a small table between them.

  Eva opens a cabinet above her. “Thirsty?”

  “Yes, incredibly.”

  “Diving and swimming do that to you. So do pressurized environments.” Eva sets a glass cylinder filled with pink liquid in front of Jessica. “It’s something Doc cooked up. You’ll be better after you have some. We all are.”

  “Doc?”

  Eva gets another one for herself. “The man in charge on the bridge.” She wraps her fingers on the glass, and the lid slides open. “Taste isn’t great, but it’ll work on that thirst and give you strength.”

  Jessica grabs the cylinder and gazes at it as the lid opens. Raising it to her lips, she looks at Eva one last time for confirmation and, seeing a nod, takes a sip of the warm liquid. A grimace crosses her face.

  “I know,” Eva says. “Tastes like reconstituted sweat.”

  Jessica shakes her head. “Reconstituted pee.” She takes another drink. The liquid drifts down her throat. Warmth and relaxation move out from the center of her body. “But it does the trick.”

  “It’s an old Inuit recipe.” Eva takes a big gulp. “Doc and I are from the same clan. We both grew up on this stuff.”

  Jessica’s eyes drift through the room past the drab gray walls. A thin film of moisture clings to every surface, and a large splotch of yellow mold infests the corner above Eva’s head where the ceiling and walls meet, moving outward like a tiny explosion.

  “You saw him, didn’t you?”

  Jessica’s gaze drops. Eva’s dark eyes stare at her.

  “Yes.” Jessica swirls the pink liquid in the glass. “I saw Matt. How did you know?”

  “You started talking after you blacked out. From the sound of it, it was quite a conversation.”

  Jessica’s eyes glisten with moisture. “Someone was hurting him. He was calling for me. He’s alive. I know it.”

  “Did you see where he was?”

  Jessica shakes her head. “I was in the middle of a thunderstorm in a vast desert. But I don’t think he was there.”

  Eva leans forward, her elbows on the table. “Did you notice anything about him, anything strange.”

  “There were ripples in his clothes, like he was floating in water. I saw him for les
s than a minute before he faded away.” Jessica’s eyes drift back up to the ceiling. “I tried to reach out to him. But he didn’t notice that I was there.” A teardrop escapes her eye, running down her cheek and onto the table.

  “You love him, don’t you?”

  Jessica nods, reaching and taking the pulse rifle off her shoulder, pointing the barrel at the floor between her feet.

  Eva’s hand moves forward, resting on Jessica’s knee. “He’s the only one you have ever loved. The only one you ever will. Am I right?”

  Jessica’s voice drops to a barely audible whisper. “The only one.”

  A long sigh bleeds out from Eva’s lips. “We have known about Matt, and you, for many years.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Eva’s eyelids drop, black eyelashes against brown skin. “Your beloved is the One that will lead us against Abomination.”

  “That’s what you said in the tunnel.” Jessica leans forward, grabs Eva’s hands and pulls her closer so their faces are only inches apart. “Tell me what you know. And how you know. I need to understand.”

  Eva leans back in her chair. “I talk better when I have food.” She stands, moves a couple of steps, bends and opens a low cabinet, peeking inside. “Good. They left me some.” She reaches in and takes out two cans, turning to put them on the table.

  The cans have no labels.

  “Now, where are those crackers?” Eva mutters to herself as she straightens and rummages through two cabinets above eye level. “Here they are.” Grabbing a small box, she sits across from Jessica. “OK, now we can talk while I fix you some dinner. You must be hungry.”

  “That depends,” Jessica says.

  “On what?”

  “On what’s in the cans.”

  Eva laughs, highlighting deep wrinkles that radiate out from the corners of her eyes. She pulls an eight inch hunting knife from somewhere in the vicinity of her ankle.

  “Just what we both need. High-protein food.” Eva licks her lips. “This stuff will last a hundred years. And it tastes good, too.” She punctures one of the cans with a quick thrust of the blade and works it around the top.

  The stench of fish fills Jessica’s nostrils. “Tuna?” she says.