Edward Lee - Slither

Loren's brow shot up. "What other guys?"

"There's military people on this island, too. I think they put those worms here to see what they'd do to humans. They've got these little cameras all over the place-they're monitoring us, for God's sake. It's like we're part of some scientific test."

Now, here was some news. Military, Loren thought. Cameras… one of the things Nora found… "And you've seen these military men yourself?"

"Yes, a couple of times," she murmured. "They never confronted any of us-they just kept back in the woods. We'd catch glimpses of them. I even saw one of them taking pictures of one of the bodies-after it had been infected by the worms. They're in gas masks and black suits with hoods."

"Well, how did they get on the island themselves? Do they have a boat too?"

"I don't know," she said. Her shoulders drooped. "And I don't care." She began to choke back sobs. "I just want to go home."

"Don't worry, we'll get you home…" Then Loren looked down at the boat, and blinked at the incongruence of what she'd just said. "How come you're still here? If you knew your friends were all dead, why didn't you just take the boat out of here yourself?"

"No keys. Alan's got them, and he's long gone."

A hope glimmered. "Where's his body? We can still get the keys."

"He's out rotting in the woods somewhere!" she whined. "I don't know! You want to go digging through a dead man's pockets when he's full of those things?"

She's right about that, he realized. "We don't even need the keys. We can push the boat out of the cove if we have to, let the current take us-one way or another, we're getting out of here. Come on, I'll take you to where my friends are."

Leona stiffened. "I-I don't think I want to do that. I'd rather stay here."

"You'll be perfectly safe," Loren assured her.

"How do you know your friends aren't infected by now?"

"They're not, trust me. I just saw them a little while ago-

She was shaking her head. "You don't understand. Those little yellow things are all over the place. They'll fall on you from the trees if you're not careful. And some of the worms are really big. I'm not going back into those woods; I'm lucky enough to have made it this far without one getting me." She paused, eyeing him. "Why don't you and I leave right now?"

"That's impossible," Loren told her. "My friends aren't infected. I guarantee it. But I can't just leave without them."

"I think you should," she said, fingering the gun.

Oh no. This is going to be a problem, Loren realized. Should he go for the gun? Loren knew his karma didn't work that way. I'd get my skull parted… "Okay, look. You stay here and wait for me to get back with the others. Will that work?"

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 back to the camp.

Just as Trent turned to abandon his search-

whap-

Something landed on his head. He flinched away, aghast, swatting about his head. What the fuck was that! Did one of those worms just land on me?

He flung something long and stringy off his neck.

"I thought that might get your attention," a sultry voice said from somewhere. Trent's shock faded when he saw what had hit him in the head…

Not a worm. A white G-string.

Annabelle grinned coyly at him. She leaned against a tree, stark naked, her tan lines raving at him.

"Where the hell have you been?" he almost yelled.

"Just wandering around. Where have you been?"

"Looking for you!"

Her eyes narrowed a little, she pouted at him. "You sound mad."

"I am mad! We've been looking for you for almost two hours! Nora and Loren think these worms might be dangerous to humans. We all need to stick together and think of a way to leave the island."

"Oh, let's not leave yet." Her voice remained singsongy, flirtatious. Trent noticed her beach bag at her feet, and the uncapped and obviously empty flask. Just as I thought. "Come on, you're drunk. Something serious might be going on, and you're out here getting loaded."