John Saul - Creature

His breathing was coming in strange rasps.

"My God," Chuckbreamed. "What's happening to him?"

"His bones are growing again," Ames said. "Only this time it seems to be out of control. It's starting with his extremities-his fingers and toes, and his jaw. If we can't get it under control, it will spread to the rest of his body."

ChuckLaConner stared at the doctor, fear naked in his eyes. "And then what will happen to him?" he asked.

Ames fell silent for a moment, then decided there was no point in keeping the truth from Jeff's father. When he spoke, his voice was clinically cool.

"And then he'll die."

A silence fell in the room, disturbed only by the dank rasping of Jeff's labored breath. As Chuck stared hopelessly down at his son's distorted face, Jeff's eyes suddenly opened.

They were wild eyes, the eyes of an animal.

And they glinted with a rage ChuckLaConner had never seen before. His face ashen, his whole body suddenly seized by an icy chill, ChuckLaConner shrank away from his own son.

Mark Tanner's eyes flickered, then came open. For a moment he wasn't certain where he was. Sunlight was pouring in a window, and he instinctively raised his right hand to shield his eyes from the glare.

A spasm of pain wracked his body, and he dropped his hand back to the bed, closing his eyes once more. Slowly, his mind began to clear, and in bits and pieces the events of the previous night came back to him.

He was in the hospital. He remembered it now-remembered the fight with Jeff that really hadn't been a fight at all. Remembered the ride in the ambulance with his mother crouched on the floor next to him, acting like he was going to die or something.

Remembered the doctor-what was his name? Mac…MacSomething, working on his face. He winced at the memory of the sharp pain when the needle pierced his skin. Then they'd X-rayed him, and finally, mercifully, he'd been put to bed and allowed to go to sleep.

His eyes still closed against the brilliance of the sun, he began experimentally moving his limbs. It wasn't too bad, really. His chest hurt whenever he moved his arms, but not too badly, and if he was careful not to take really deep breaths, he could hardly feel his cracked ribs at all.

His jaw was sore, and he touched it gingerly, then moved it. That, too, wasn't so bad. Just sort of like a toothache. Finally, steeling himself against the pain in his ribcage, he raised his hand once more and brushed his fingers over the bandage on his forehead. Then, at last, he opened his eyes again.

Or, anyway, he opened his left eye. His right eye would hardly open at all, and when he saw nothing but a red haze through it, he let it close again. Finally he turned his head and looked around.

His mother, her head nodding on her chest, was slumped in a chair next to his bed, but even in her sleep she seemed to feel his eyes on her. Abruptly, she came awake and quickly straightened up.

"You're awake," she declared in a surprised voice that made Mark wonder if she hadn't expected him ever to wake up at all.

"I guess I am," he admitted. "You been here all night?"

She nodded. "I didn't want you to wake up and be frightened."

Mark groaned inwardly. Did she think he was still a baby? He tried to raise himself up, but fell back as a sharp pain shot through his chest.

"Try this," Sharon said, handing him the controls for the bed.

Mark experimented for a moment, then the head of the bed rose slowly until he was half sitting up. The pain in his chest eased and he managed a weak grin. "I guess I didn't come off very well last night, did I?"

"Don't you worry about that," she told him. "And if JeffLaConner thinks he's going to get away with this-" She broke off her sentence as the door opened. MacMacCallum strode in, picked up the chart suspended from the end of Mark's bed, scanned it quickly, then shifted his attention to the boy himself.

"How are you doing this morning?" he asked as he picked up Mark's wrist and took his pulse. "Sleep okay?"

"Never woke up at all," Mark replied. "How long do I have to stay here?"

MacCallum'sbrows arched. "Already got a taste of the food here, did you?" he inquired dryly. When Mark only looked faintly confused, his tone turned more serious. "I'd say until tomorrow, just offhand. It doesn't look like anything's seriously the matter with you, but it won't hurt to keep you around for a day, just so I can keep an eye on you." He nodded toward the television suspended from the wall opposite Mark's bed. "How's a day off from school with TV thrown in for nothing extra sound?"

Mark shrugged. "Okay, I guess. What happened to me? I mean, what's wrong with me?"

Briefly,MacCallum summarized the list of injuries. "From what I understand," he finished, "you got off lucky. JeffLaConner's a big fellow, but he seems to have messed up your looks more than your innards." He turned to face Sharon. "I've already gone over his X rays and other tests, and unless something shows up today, there's no reason why he shouldn't go home tomorrow. Maybe even this evening."

"What sort of something could show up today?" Sharon immediately asked.

"Nothing terribly serious,"MacCallum assured her. "But if there happens to be kidney damage-which I don't think there is-blood could show up in his urine. Frankly, I'm not expecting anything. And if I were you," he added, "I'd be thinking about going home and getting some sleep myself. Mark's going to be dozing on and off until noon, and there's no use your sitting here any longer."

"I want to be here," Sharon insisted.

"Go home , Mom," Mark said. "All I'mgonna do is lie here."

Sharon was about to protest, then realized thatMacCallum was right. She could feel her exhaustion in almost every fiber of her body, and her back was stiff from sitting up in the hard chair all night. She stood up. "Okay," she agreed. "But if you need anything, or want anything, call me. All right?"

"Sure," Mark replied, then flushed as she bent over to kiss his cheek.

As she followedMacCallum out of the room, she heard the television go on. Smiling ruefully to herself, she walked with Dr.MacCallum into the waiting room, thanked him once more for all he'd done for Mark, and called Elaine Harris to come and pick her up. Then, while waiting for Elaine, she recalled her conversation with CharlotteLaConner. Her brow creasing into a deep frown, she hurried afterMacCallum, catching up with him just as he was going into his office.

"Dr.MacCallum," she said, "did you ever have a patient named Randy Stevens?"

MacCallumglanced at her sharply. "Randy Stevens? What did you hear about him?"

Quickly, she told him about CharlotteLaConner's visit to the hospital the night before. "The way she was talking," Sharon said, "it sounded like something was wrong with Randy."

MacCallumnodded. "I remember him, of course. He was the biggest star the football team had a year or so ago. Almost another JeffLaConner. And I guess he could be just as mean, too. But then theStevenses moved away. I think his father got transferred to New York or something."

Sharon hesitated, puzzled. "But you never treated him?"

MacCallum'slips tightened. "No one ever asked me to." He seemed about to say something more, but the intercom buzzed loudly and a disembodied voice demandedMacCallum's response to a phone call. Feeling vaguely dissatisfied by what the doctor had told her, and somewhat distracted by the interruption, she thanked him for his time, then hurried out of the hospital. She didn't notice the twin station wagons with rocky mountain high emblazoned on their sides pull into the hospital driveway as she got into Elaine's car.

Dr. Martin Ames, his eyes rimmed with red, emerged from the first of the two wagons. Waving to the occupants of the other car to stay where they were, he strode into the waiting room of County Hospital. He paused near the receptionist's window, inclining his head toward the hall that led toMacCallum's office. "He in?" The nurse glanced up from her work, recognized him, and nodded.