Kenn Crawford - Dead Hunt

When the last of the men left the room, Heslin pulled the tiny locket from his vest pocket once again and lovingly stroked the picture.

“Soon,” he whispered to the picture. “Soon.”

The clouds that cluttered Heslin’s mind dissolved and a new spirit took hold. He remembered the mess he’d made in the lab, so he promptly returned his father’s old fiddle to its case, grabbed his scotch and headed back to the lab. He stopped at the microscope to dispose of the ruined culture dish when, like a young boy who finds his father’s Playboy Magazine, he just had to look. He leaned over the eyepiece and instantly bolted up straight, dropping his glass of scotch. It bounced on the floor, throwing the scotch at Heslin’s feet, but the heavy glass did not break.

It rolled to a stop as Heslin, wide eyed, fumbled with the sleeve of his lab coat and stared at his watch. 6:49 A.M…

The corners of his mouth turned up in a tiny smile.

Heslin dared another look. This time he stared more intently into the eyepiece. Again he stood up straight. His tiny smile now replaced with a wide, foolish-looking grin.

“We did it, Robin!” he announced proudly. “We did it! The formula works!”

Heslin danced around his lab in joyful hysteria, completely oblivious of the translucent, green liquid oozing out the open window. Tracks of green ran down the outside of the lodge, pooling into a little, green puddle. But gravity wasn’t quite finished with Heslin’s green liquid. Not yet.

It pulled the liquid out of the little pool and down the sloped landscape, swerving around tiny rocks, following the path of least resistance. At the head of the green trail, a tiny drop of Heslin’s creation was poised over the edge of the small creek, threatening to jump. It just sat there, like a nervous diver too scared to take the final plunge. Another bubble of green raced down the last incline and slammed into the timid diver, pushing it over the edge. It hit the creek with the tiniest of splashes, barely creating a ripple, and began its long journey to the valley below.

Heslin danced around his lab in triumphant victory, but his dance was cut short by a sharp pain in his stomach that doubled him over. A few seconds later, the pain subsided. As he stood up he finally noticed the open window and the green stain above it.

Heslin raced to the window. He looked out at the little, green trail leading towards the creek.

“Robin, run an analysis on formula 25-41 and it’s interaction with water.”

Robin did not respond.

“Robin,” he said again. “I need you to run an analysis on…”

Heslin scratched at his bandaged hand, remembering that he had shut Robin down. He banged frantically at the keyboard but the system did not respond.

“I need to reboot the system. I need Robin to…”

Another crippling pain dropped him to his knees. He screamed in agony as the pain came in waves. When it ceased, he pulled himself back to his feet.

“I have to reboot the system,” he said to no one as he started to unwrap the gauze, his hand burned with a powerful itch.

Another intense pain struck him down. When that wave of pain subsided, Heslin crawled towards the back door, a trail of gauze following him.

“I need some air,” he panted as he staggered outside, deeply inhaling the fresh air.

Heslin gritted his teeth as he finished unwrapping his hand. His entire hand was a gray and purple color, and it smelled of sour cheese and baby vomit. The finger he had cut was blackened as if some type of advanced gangrene had set in. He tried to wiggle his fingers but they did not move. He thought about the tracks of the formula leading to the creek.

“My God, what have I done?”

The van pulled to a stop at the Irving station at the Inverness turnoff.

“Why are we stopping?” Michael asked.

“We need petrol,” Wade answered. “You pump in twenty bucks worth. I’ll go pay.” He looked at the price. “A buck forty-five a liter! Christ,” Wade said sarcastically. “That’s highway robbery. How do these cockies afford to live up here?”

Wade walked inside the station. “Oy?”

No one answered.

“Paying customer here, Mate?”

Still no answer.

“For what you are charging for petrol, Mate, you should be out pumping that crap yourself!” His voice echoed off the concrete walls.

“I’ll leave some moolah on the counter, all right?” Wade yelled as he slipped the twenty back into his pocket. “Stupid nongs,” he laughed as he walked back to the van, jumped in and drove away.

A neon “Open” sign on the local co-op grocery store caught Lucy’s eye.

“Stop here,” Lucy ordered.

“For what?” Wade asked.

“Duh, for some food. There won’t be anything to eat at the cabin.”

“Food is good,” Emma agreed. “I’m hungry.”

Wade spotted the Nova Scotia Liquor Commission sign on the side of the Co-op building and slammed on the brakes, jolting the teens forward. “Good idea, grab some grog too.”

“Some what?” Lucy asked

“Some beer,” he answered.

“Like they’re gonna sell me beer,” Lucy replied.

Wade reached into his wallet and pulled out his fake I. D. “No worries.”

“How in the hell did you get a fake I.D.?” Paul asked.

“Connections, Mate. I know everyone.”

The group of teens walked into the store. It was empty. Not a single customer was there, not even staff.

“Hello?” Lucy yelled. “Is anyone here?”

“Christ,” Wade said. “Is this some holiday out here in the back of beyond?”

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked.

“Same thing back at the servo. Nobody around,” Wade answered.

“Hello?” Lucy yelled again. They heard a noise.

“See,” Lucy told him, “they’re out back, probably having a meeting or something.”

“A meeting. Yeah, that’s it,” Paul laughed. “A meeting as to why shit keeps getting stolen.” Paul yelled in the direction of the store-room door, “It’s because you leave everything unattended for people to steal, you dumb hicks.”

“Knock it off,” Lucy said elbowing him in the ribs. “Let’s go see what’s going on. Maybe somebody’s hurt.”

“What are you, a doctor?” Paul asked sarcastically. “Let’s just leave the money on the counter and get the hell out of here. This place creeps me out.”

“I’m with you, Mate,” Wade agreed, pulling out some money. “Screw it!” he said with a grin, putting it back in his pocket. “Let’s just go.”

Paul and Wade headed for the door.

“Assholes,” Lucy shook her head in chagrin as Wade and Paul left with the beer.

“I’ll go with you, Lucy,” Michael offered, following Lucy to the back of the store.

Lauren watched the scene without saying a word as her friends scattered in different directions, leaving her standing alone in the unnaturally quiet store. Emma walked around the corner from one of the isles holding a couple bags of potato chips.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Lauren answered. “Let’s go.”

“What about these?” Emma asked, holding up the chips.

“The hell with the chips. Let’s go.” She grabbed Emma by the arm and started to lead her out the door.

“But I’m hungry,” Emma pleaded.

Lauren threw a five dollar bill on the counter. “Take the damn things. Now c’mon. Let’s go.”

Lucy and Michael approached the door to the back of the store cautiously, a product of watching too many horror flicks. They slowly eased the door open and thought they heard something that sounded like gnawing sounds. They opened the door a little more. The back room was dimly lit but they could just make out the back of what looked like an employee kneeling over something on the floor.