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cer-ta-inly de-eper than the ori-gi-nal pit I'd dug. So-met-hing had
tun-ne-led up be-ne-ath the out-ho-use, and de-ca-des worth of fo-ul-ness had
dra-ined down in-to the trench and va-nis-hed from sight.
"Well, I'll be," I whis-pe-red.
"What is it?" Carl as-ked. "What do you see?"
"I'm not su-re. Re-mem-ber the ho-les from yes-ter-day?
Out by the wo-od-pi-le and in the fi-eld?"
"Yeah."
"We've got anot-her one." I step-ped back out-si-de. "So-met-hing dug a
ho-le un-der-ne-ath the out-ho-use and to-ok a re-al-ly nasty bath."
"Where do-es the ho-le go?"
"I don't know, but I'm su-re not gon-na crawl down in-si-de and see. No
thank you, sir."
We sta-red at each ot-her whi-le the ra-in so-aked thro-ugh our clot-hes.
"Teddy, what the hell is go-ing on? What kind of a crit-ter ma-kes a ho-le
li-ke that?"
"I don't-"
A blast of thun-der cut me off, and we both jum-ped.
A se-cond la-ter, anot-her blast fol-lo-wed. The-re was no light-ning in
the sky.
That's not thun-der, I tho-ught. So-me-body was sho-oting. He-avy
ca-li-ber, by the so-und. Anot-her blast rol-led ac-ross the hills.
"Did you he-ar that?" Carl as-ked me, still a mas-ter of as-king the
ob-vi-o-us.
I put my fin-ger to my lips. "Lis-ten."
There was so-met-hing el-se, over the guns-hots-a thrum-ming so-und,
gro-wing lo-uder and clo-ser.
Carl stif-fe-ned. "It so-unds li-ke-"
A he-li-cop-ter exp-lo-ded thro-ugh the tre-etops, se-esa-wing wildly as
it ro-ared over-he-ad of us and swo-oped to-wards the empty fi-eld.
"Maybe it's the Na-ti-onal Gu-ard!" Carl sho-uted abo-ve the no-ise. "They
fi-nal-ly ca-me to get us!"
My spi-rits lif-ted. It lo-oked li-ke we we-re sa-ved.
We wa-ved our arms and sho-uted at the top of our lungs, but the
he-li-cop-ter con-ti-nu-ed away from us. It lo-oked li-ke it was in tro-ub-le.
Black smo-ke bil-lo-wed from its en-gi-ne.
Another guns-hot rang out, and then a fi-gu-re emer-ged from the fo-rest.
It was Earl Har-per, still dres-sed in his com-bat fa-ti-gu-es and lo-oking
li-ke a crazy, drow-ned rat. Just as me-an, too.
He hol-le-red so-met-hing unin-tel-li-gib-le, ra-ised the rif-le, sigh-ted
thro-ugh the sco-pe, and squ-e-ezed the trig-ger. The-re was a flash of light
and smo-ke, fol-lo-wed by anot-her blast. Then he lo-we-red the gun and ran
to-wards us.
"Good Lord," Carl grun-ted. "What's he go-ne and do-ne now?"
I co-uldn't ans-wer him. I felt numb, and my fe-et we-re ro-oted in the
mud.
Carl pic-ked up a length of de-ad wo-od-a thick fal-len tree branch-and
held it at his si-de li-ke a club. I just watc-hed the he-li-cop-ter in
stun-ned dis-be-li-ef.
It ve-ered to the left and then to the right, as if the pi-lot we-re
flying drunk. It pitc-hed back to-ward a gro-ve of pi-ne tre-es and away from
the fi-eld, then shot up-ward aga-in. The en-gi-ne whi-ned.
"I hit it," Earl cack-led as he ran up to us. "I got the bas-tards! Didn't
I tell you? A black fuc-king he-li-cop-ter! It's just li-ke they tal-ked
abo-ut on the Co-ast-to-Co-ast AM show. I war-ned you all. God dam-ned U.N.
in-va-si-on tro-ops!"
The he-li-cop-ter swer-ved back over the fi-eld aga-in. Smo-ke now po-ured
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from the en-gi-ne in a thick clo-ud. Earl sigh-ted thro-ugh the sco-pe aga-in
and squ-e-ezed off anot-her shot. The gun buc-ked aga-inst his sho-ul-der.
Visibility was po-or be-ca-use of the ra-in and I won-de-red how he co-uld
hit anyt-hing, but he did. The fle-e-ing chop-per plum-me-ted from the sky
li-ke a sto-ne. The-re was no exp-lo-si-on or big oran-ge fi-re-ball li-ke in
the mo-vi-es.
Never is. The-re was just a sic-ke-ning crunch as me-tal col-lap-sed and
shred-ded and the whir-ring bla-des to-re in-to the earth. The en-gi-ne
sput-te-red.
Then the-re was si-len-ce, fol-lo-wed se-conds la-ter by the so-und of
pe-op-le scre-aming.
Then si-len-ce aga-in, ex-cept for my harsh bre-at-hing, Carl's
asth-ma-tic whe-ezing, and the qu-i-et click of Earl re-lo-ading the gun.
And the ra-in in the backg-ro-und, of co-ur-se. Al-ways the ra-in.
None of us mo-ved. We just sta-red at each ot-her. Earl pul-led mo-re
am-mo from his poc-ket and slid them in-to the gun.
Carl grip-ped his club tightly. "What the hell is go-ing on, Earl?"
"I got them," Earl whis-pe-red, a grin split-ting his griz-zled fa-ce
wi-de open. He wor-ked the rif-le bolt and trud-ged to-ward the twis-ted,
smo-king wrec-ka-ge. So in-tent was his ap-pro-ach that he didn't see Carl
sne-ak up be-hind him with the length of wo-od. Earl didn't sus-pect a thing
un-til Carl crac-ked him in the back of the he-ad.
Earl drop-ped to the gro-und with a gro-an, his fa-ce sin-king in-to the
soggy mud.
Carl lo-oked up at me, his fa-ce shoc-ked. "You don't sup-po-se I kil-led
him, do you?"
"Not with that hard he-ad of his. But pull his fa-ce out of the mud so he
do-esn't drown."
While Carl did that and chec-ked Earl's pul-se, I grab-bed the rif-le from
whe-re it fell. Then we lo-ped to-ward the crash si-te. I clutc-hed the gun so
hard that my knuck-les tur-ned whi-te. Carl pic-ked up anot-her fal-len branch
and held it out in front of him li-ke a sword.
"Oh, tho-se po-or pe-op-le," he mur-mu-red. "You rec-kon any-body is
ali-ve in the-re?"
"I don't know. Let's find out."
The stench of scorc-hed me-tal hung thick in the air.
Carl bent over, co-ug-hing. "Go-od Lord& "
"You gon-na be okay?" I as-ked him. "Be-ca-use I ne-ed you he-re with me
right now."
"I'm all right. Just be-en a whi-le sin-ce I saw so-met-hing li-ke this.
Sin-ce the war. I'd for-got-ten how the ad-re-na-li-ne rush can ma-ke a man
sick. I'm figh-ting it off."
"Me too," I sa-id, even as the bi-le ro-se in my thro-at.
Black, oily smo-ke twis-ted from the crash si-te, but the-re was no fi-re.
The we-at-her had ta-ken ca-re of that. It cer-ta-inly didn't lo-ok li-ke
a he-li-cop-ter any-mo-re. Bits of wrec-ka-ge lay scat-te-red ac-ross the
fi-eld. The cock-pit res-ted at the end of a de-ep trench go-uged in-to the
mud. It was this pi-ece we ap-pro-ac-hed. It had split in half. One sec-ti-on
con-ta-ined so-met-hing un-re-cog-ni-zab-le-wet and red, with ste-am ri-sing
off of it. It wasn't un-til Carl be-gan to retch be-hind me that I re-ali-zed
what it was.
The pi-lot. Or what was left of him. I'd se-en the worst acts of hu-man
butc-hery du-ring the war; se-en li-ving, bre-at-hing men re-du-ced to
not-hing mo-re than pi-les of shred-ded, smo-king me-at, se-en the black stuff
bub-ble out from de-ep in-si-de the-ir bo-di-es-but it had be-en a long ti-me.
This bro-ught it all back. Carl knelt on the gro-und, mud squ-ir-ting
thro-ugh his clenc-hed fists, and threw up his bre-ak-fast.
The pi-lot must ha-ve be-en we-aring his se-at-belt, and that was what
kil-led him. He was cut in-to sec-ti-ons, ho-ri-zon-tal-ly from his left
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sho-ul-der and down ac-ross his chest to his right hip, and then se-ve-red in
half aga-in at the wa-ist. His legs and gro-in re-ma-ined in a sit-ting
po-si-ti-on on the gory se-at, along with a ste-aming lo-op of gray
in-tes-ti-nes and splat-te-red fe-ces. His ot-her two pi-eces had fal-len to
eit-her si-de. His in-nards we-re spre-ad ac-ross everyt-hing. As we watc-hed,
one length of in-tes-ti-ne slit-he-red off the se-at li-ke a sna-ke, and
plop-ped in-to the mud.
It re-min-ded me of a worm.
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