The Invasive 2: Remnants Page 12

  Dr. Avery bent down to tend to Yutu, who was whimpering pretty good.

  “It will pass,” Angela said as she caressed Bishop’s forehead. “You’ll be sore, but that’s expected.”

  Bishop moved his head to the right, and was elated to see Yutu up and standing. The pooch was a heck of a lot tougher than he was.

  Bishop looked to his left. The two frequency seals lay slumped on the roadway, their weird blood trickling from numerous bullet holes.

  “Holy moly,” Dr. Avery said. “They almost got you.”

  Angela helped Bishop up, then wrapped his shoulder around her. “Come on, soldier,” she said. “We’re going home.”

  For the briefest of moments, Bishop wondered where exactly that was.

  Big J Ranch (150 BPM)

  Angela unfolded a national forest map, and pointed at the alpine area where they’d last seen Colbrick. “Right there,” she said, pointing at a bunched-up area of elevation contours.

  “Do you really think he’s still up there?” Bishop asked, feeling much better after the frequency seal attack. “He’s probably whistling some Disney song and walking down the mountain right now.”

  Angela furrowed her brow. “Really, Bishop? Wouldn’t he have been here by now?”

  Angela opened the refrigerator, and then handed Bishop and Dr. Avery a Red Bull. “Man up,” she said. “Because we’re headed out to search. You’re going to need the Vitamin B and caffeine in those.”

  Bishop took a sip. The Red Bulls were Angela’s thing. But he was happy to go along for now.

  “Did you encounter invasives on your way down?” Dr. Avery asked, his eyes, for the first time, like flint.

  “I did,” Bishop said. “The seals you guys took out, a few of the marsupial style, and one of the birds.”

  Angela frowned. “Did you infect any with your portion of ER18?”

  A twinge of embarrassment caught Bishop off guard. “I gave it a whirl,” Bishop said.

  “A whirl?” Dr. Avery said.

  Angela looked concerned.

  “I couldn’t do it,” Bishop said. “I was right next to the bird. It even let me pet it.”

  Angela relaxed, and hugged him. A chill (the good kind) spidered down his arms, and he squeezed her back.

  “I get it,” she said. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

  Dr. Avery slammed his Red Bull onto the kitchen island, causing Yutu to perk up. This was the first visible sign of anger Bishop had ever seen from the guy.

  “You must set aside your emotions,” Dr. Avery said. “We have an extremely important task. In order to restore the ecosystem, we can’t pick and choose.”

  Bishop drained his Red Bull and tossed it into the garbage a little too hard. “We’re doing the best we can, Dr. Avery. None of this is easy. Last year, those birds saved our asses. You had to be there.”

  “Be glad you weren’t,” Angela said. “Very glad.”

  Dr. Avery stared at them, his eyes more commanding and serious than before. “If we don’t complete this task, my employer will be implementing more heavy-handed tactics. And I don’t think any of us wants to see what that might entail.”

  “Is that a threat?” Bishop asked.

  “Of course not,” Dr. Avery said. “I consider you friends, and I’m very grateful for you welcoming me into your home. But I’m not going to waste your time with lies: what’s going on in the Apex Valley has national, and global, implications. My employer simply won’t tolerate an expansion of this new ecosystem as it currently exists.”

  Angela kissed Bishop on the cheek. “We’ll figure something out. Now let’s go looking for a grumpy old man in the woods.”

  The Search for Colbrick (155 BPM)

  At midnight, the group pulled into their original trailhead. After slinging into their gear, they followed the trail up-mountain. Bishop felt a little speedy as the Red Bull kept him alert, maybe too alert.

  An hour into the wilderness, a huge animal powered across the trail, startling them. But their headlamps revealed only a bull elk, followed closely by a few cows. The bull’s rack was impressive in a tasteful, earthly way. Soon, the ungulates disappeared into thick forest, allowing the Bishop and the group to carry forward.

  “You never get used to how big they are,” Angela said.

  Bishop’s lungs burned as the air thinned. Synop Creek roared through the trees to their left, intermingling with the calls of night birds and insects.

  But in the mirage of peace, Bishop felt uneasy. “Stop hiking,” he said to the others.

  In the mix of whitewater and night birds, Bishop heard a man mumbling to himself.

  “Oh shit,” Bishop said, as he darted off-trail and towards Synop Creek. When he reached the bank, Colbrick was sitting against a boulder and smoking a cigar. At first, all seemed normal, until Bishop realized Colbrick’s pant legs were all torn up, and he was bleeding pretty good.

  Colbrick exhaled a puff of cigar smoke. “Just scratches,” he said.

  Angela, Dr. Avery, and Yutu caught up with Bishop. Angela gasped when she saw Colbrick’s legs.

  “You poor thing,” she said, rushing over to him with a first aid kit. “They got me once on the hand,” she said. “So painful. It’s hard to describe.”

  Bishop was used to seeing carnage, but he didn’t care for how bloody and possibly infected Colbrick’s shins and calves were. Already the skin was blotchy-red, and green puss oozed from the wounds, mixing with secapod slime.

  “I dunked my legs in the river,” Colbrick said. “To help heal ‘em, get the gunk off.”

  Bishop shook his head. “It’s always something with your legs, man.”

  Colbrick laughed, and his laugh morphed into a wince as Angela dabbed the wounds with alcohol pads.

  “I’ve had worse,” he said. “And it could’ve been worse. But I held my own.”

  “Knew you would,” Angela said as she wrapped gauze around his lower leg. “Never a doubt in my mind.”

  Yutu trotted over to Colbrick, and tried to lick him on the face. “No, thank you,” Colbrick said. “I got enough animal slobber up in this joint.”

  “Always the smart ass,” Angela said.

  Colbrick puffed on his cigar again, and regarded Angela for a moment. “I cut down half of ‘em,” he said. “I let the other half get away. Crawled up into the cliffs, waited ‘em out. They left eventually.”

  Dr. Avery checked his watch, then thumbed on his smart phone. “According to the file from Natural Corrections, there are potential side effects to administering RN18.”

  Colbrick chuckled. “Administering? Hell, Doc, we shot a slingshot of that crap down their throats. Not the word I’d use.”

  Dr. Avery turned back to his phone. “We don’t have time to debate semantics,” he said.

  A red flag popped up in Bishop’s mind. “What side effects?”

  Dr. Avery swallowed, as if he had a cotton ball stuck in his throat. “Mild delirium. Potential hallucinations. Increased agitation.”

  “Oh, that’s brilliant,” Colbrick said. “Let’s rile ‘em up, make ‘em super critters.”

  Dr. Avery flipped his phone off, and pocketed it. “Any invasive that came into RN18 are expired,” he said. “The side effects will only last for as long as they’re alive. So an hour, give or take a few seconds.”

  Angela and Bishop helped Colbrick to his feet, as the old timer tried to conceal a groan or two.

  “Can you put weight on your legs?” Angela asked.

  They let go of Colbrick, and the poor guy winced and listed to the right.

  A fist of guilt hit Bishop in the stomach. He wished he hadn’t left him behind. But it was certain they had to split the secapods, or no one would’ve survived. More than anything, he wished to stop doubting himself, and his decisions.

  Bishop ducked, and wrapped Colbrick’s arm around his. Angela did the same. Yutu led the way back down the mountain, occasionally glancing back at his friends, perhaps wondering why everyone was moving s
o darn slow.

  Whatever guilt Bishop had felt for Colbrick changed into guilt over his own actions, and guilt for wiping out a species that had done nothing wrong. In the dark, their headlamp cones dissecting the Rocky Mountain forest, he wondered how many invasives were dying. And he wondered if the agitation side effects of those dying invasive infected with ER18 had been taken out on the native ecosystem.

  This was new to all of them, even Dr. Avery. Bishop and his people were not only performing cutting-edge experiments, they were in fact a part of the experiment…at least in the long run. And maybe when that realization was contrasted with the sharp, deadly moments of the last year, it made everything a bit more comfortable. A man accepting fate, and his place in the world.

  He was going to die someday. So was Angela, even sweet Yutu. All people, including dogs and bears. Even invasives. Nobody lives forever.

  Nobody.

  Big J (160 BPM)

  Colbrick sprawled across the couch, his clean white bandages contrasting with his dirty hiking pants that were pulled up over his knees.

  Dr. Avery paced the living room, seeming to admire the log beams and open design, but Bishop knew better. The doctor was plotting.

  “We need to infiltrate Quadrant 6,” Dr. Avery said.

  “Whoa, Doc,” Colbrick said. “At least give me some foreplay first.”

  Bishop wasn’t surprised. He knew everything had been funneling them back to Quadrant 6 since the initial visit.

  “That’s where most of the invasive are,” Dr. Avery said. The doctor checked his phone, and then a tablet. “We need to strike fast. We have three vials of ER18 remaining. We need to coordinate an infection strike within that facility. We’ve been sent the appropriate uniforms to blend in. We’ve seen some of the lab ourselves. And we have this.”

  Dr. Avery held up a metallic-looking credit card, and grinned. “Keycard.”

  Colbrick smiled. “Well damn, Doc. Looks like we got us some free backstage passes.”

  “You could say that,” Dr. Avery said.

  Bishop hated to admit it, but he was leaning towards Dr. Avery’s point of view. “Can you get your telemetry device working again?” he asked Dr. Avery. “ I think we need it.”

  “I do believe so,” Dr. Avery said. “If you have duct tape in the lodge, that is.”

  Angela hurried off into the other end of the lodge, then came back and tossed a roll of duct tape at Dr. Avery.

  Dr. Avery fumbled with it for a few moments, then stabilized.

  “Butterfingers,” Colbrick said.

  Bishop took a sip of the tea Angela had warmed up for him. The old feelings were starting to return…a spiritual connection to this magnificent place, to his father, to the lodge, and to great company. He gave Yutu a pat on the head, and it made him feel good, and strong.

  “If you can get your device working, Dr. Avery, I think we might be able to pull this off. How many uniforms and matching boots were sent?”

  “Three pairs,” Dr. Avery said.

  Bishop walked over to Colbrick and slapped him on the shoulder. “Looks like you’re out,” Bishop said. “How are your legs?”

  Colbrick stood, and winced at the pain. Yutu cocked his head and watched.

  “I’ll be fine by morning,” Colbrick said. “Don’t you all worry about me. Worry about your city-slicker selves.”

  “Cute,” Angela said.

  Dr. Avery tapped his finger to his forehead and paced the great room. “Bishop, you brought up the telemetry device. It is indeed fragile, but my employer designed it to do two things, not just one.”

  Bishop raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?” he said.

  “Yes,” Dr. Avery said. “It has a Relay Mode function.”

  Colbrick groaned. “Speak English, Doc.”

  “The device can also bounce back the signals it receives,” Dr. Avery said.

  “Oh shit,” Bishop said. He was feeling it now. They were about to get into a lot of trouble.

  A lot.

  “When we approach Quadrant 6,” Dr. Avery said, “one of us can park along a national forest road, and bounce back the tag signals from the captured invasive to the guards. It will look like invasive are occupying the nearby woods.”

  Colbrick went to high-five the doctor. “Come on, man, put her there, Doc.”

  Dr. Avery blushed and returned the high-five.

  Angela rolled her eyes and jostled her tea bag in the mug.

  “I love it,” Bishop said. “I bet half the camp gets drawn into the woods.”

  “That’s precisely what would happen,” Dr. Avery said. “We just need to find the right person for the job. A whole lot of military might is going to be coming down on him.”

  “Him?” Angela said.

  “We all know who I’m referencing,” Dr. Avery said.

  The room grew quiet as the four of them (Yutu included) stared at Colbrick in anticipation of a response.

  For a few moments, Colbrick didn’t say a word. He just stood there, staring blankly towards the kitchen.

  “I’m hungry,” he said as he limped towards the pantry. “Want Pop-Tarts.” Colbrick cracked open a box, and wolfed the tasty treats down.

  Angela threw her arms up in the air. “Well,” she said, “are you up for it or not?”

  Colbrick put half a Pop-Tart in his mouth, and spoke. “Oh that?” he said, his words barely comprehensible. “Yeah sure, whatever. I love it. Let’s do it. Bang bang hoorah hoorah.”

  Angela turned to Bishop, while pointing at Colbrick. “Do you believe this guy?”

  Big J (170 BPM)

  Angela woke Bishop in the darkness, sometime in the middle of the night. Her long hair brushed against his chest as she set her chin upon his shoulder and stared at him. Bishop had always loved how big her eyes were, almost alien in nature.

  “Hey you,” she said to him.

  “Everything good?” Bishop asked as he slowly emerged from his sleep state. The reality of their world, their valley hit him the way it did sometimes in that mystical way. Angela’s look, and her voice contrasted with the negativity and calmed him.

  “Remember that night on the porch at the rental cabin?” she said.

  “Yes, of course,” Bishop said. “It was horrible.”

  “No it wasn’t,” Angela said. “It was beautiful. The night, the cake, the candles. The occasion.”

  “You were almost killed,” Bishop said.

  “Almost,” Angela said. “Then science happened.”

  “You’ve been hanging with too many scientists,” Bishop said.

  “It’s all it was,” she said. “All this situation is. We were out, enjoying a beautiful night on our planet, and a species that is smarter than us unleashed a whole heck of a lot of science on our asses.”

  “And death,” Bishop said. “Try not to forget that part.”

  “I know,” Angela said. “But that night is seared into my mind. Perhaps brighter, and more defined than anything in my life.”

  Bishop wasn’t quite sure he liked the idea of that. “What about all our other memories?” he asked in the darkness. “The Wind Dancer, the day I asked you to marry me?”

  Angela ran her fingers through her hair. “That day will always burn bright for me,” she said.

  She hugged Bishop, and kissed his shoulder. “There’s something about the danger of that moment, juxtaposed with how romantic it was. And the lighting. It was perhaps the most beautiful summer night I had ever seen.”

  “We’ll have more,” Bishop said. “Once we get the valley back to normal.”

  Angela caressed his jawline, and ran her fingers down to his chest. “Silly boy,” she said. “The valley is never going to be normal.”

  Bishop sighed.

  “It’s okay,” Angela said. “Acceptance is how we grow. And I think maybe it’s time we accept what we’ve been given. It’s time to evolve, Bishop. Evolve or stagnate, or be killed by our stubbornness.”

  Bishop thought of their plans, and if they
’d be killed. They’d come close many times, and he was starting to realize that perhaps they fed off it, that the near-death situations made them high. Got them off. Did it for them. That kind of thing.

  “Do you think we’re addicted to the intensity?” Bishop asked his wife.

  Bishop could see Angela’s grin, even in the darkness. “Maybe,” she said. “That’s always been our forte. Hot and heavy, to this day. Crazy in bed. Open-minded. Pushing boundaries.”

  “True,” Bishop said. He sat up, and placed his hand on Angela’s jaw, then pulled her towards him. Their lips touched, and they kissed deeply, Bishop running his fingers through her long hair. He flipped her onto her back, then grasped both her wrists with one hand, and pinned them to the bed above her head.

  “Yes,” she moaned.

  Keeping her hands pinned down and together, Bishop kissed his wife’s neck. His entire body warmed, and his senses heightened.

  Angela writhed on the bed, still pinned. “Some things will never be the same,” she said. “Even the valley.”

  “The only constant is us,” Bishop said, kissing her lower. “We are stronger than creation.”

  “Fuck me like we’re going to die tomorrow,” she said.

  Bishop did.

  Highway 81, morning (175 BPM)

  Bishop drove, while Angela messed with her smart phone, and Dr. Avery and Colbrick sat in back. Yutu was curled up at Angela’s feet in the foot-well, ogling everyone and probably wondering what was going on.

  Bishop shifted the Toyota pickup into fourth gear, and then fifth.

  “We want Forest Road 312,” she said.

  “Pass it all the time,” Bishop said.

  “319 is the one that takes you to the gate before Quadrant 6,” Colbrick said. “We need to stay the hell away from that. Those guards know us.”

  “They do,” Bishop said. “Which is why we’re going up 312, giving you the pickup, and then the three of us are hoofing it towards the containment facilities. You still cool with using Dr. Avery’s device?”