Deluge: The Conqueror Worms II

CHAPTER 7

“Kevin!”

His head smacked against the floor as he crumpled. The sound made Sarah cringe. She ran to him. Her wet shoes squeaked on the linoleum. Kevin was sprawled crookedly, arms and legs akimbo, head tilted, eyes closed. She knelt beside him, calling his name.

“Kevin? Hey, Kevin, wake up!”

His eyes remained shut, but she saw them rolling behind his lids, as if Kevin were dreaming. She checked his breathing, and sighed in relief. It was shallow, but at least he was alive.

What the hell had happened? One moment they’d been talking. The next, he’d collapsed. Had he tripped, and knocked himself out? No, she was fairly certain he was unconscious before he’d struck the floor. He’d been complaining of dehydration—ironic, given their situation. Had that been the cause of this? Was he epileptic or prone to seizures? She didn’t know, and the lack of knowledge shocked her. After all they’d been through—surviving Baltimore and the cult on Cass Mountain near Greenbank and the helicopter crash and all of the events at Teddy’s house—she should know Kevin better than she did. They’d gone through a lot together, relied on each other for survival. In some ways, he’d become her best friend. Her partner. And yet, other than the fact that he’d been a video store clerk in Cockeysville, and had been in love with Lori, and that his best friend, Jimmy, was killed by either the Satanists or that squid-thing they’d worshiped, she didn’t really know him at all. She knew he could handle a gun, could think quick on his feet and be relied on to step up when shit hit the fan, but what was his medical history? What had he been like growing up? Who were his parents? What were his hobbies?

Sarah ran her hands through her wet hair and debated what to do next. She knew she shouldn’t move him, but she couldn’t just let him lie on the floor, either. Gingerly, she prodded his arms and legs with her index finger. When Kevin didn’t twitch, she ran her hands over his limbs, checking for broken bones. Then she very carefully lifted his head. He moaned, but remained unconscious. She peered into his mouth. There was no blood—he hadn’t bitten his tongue or knocked any teeth loose. He seemed uninjured, except for a bright red blotch on the back of his hand. She assumed he must have bruised it when he fell.

Grunting, Sarah got her hands under Kevin’s arms, and interlocked her fingers around his chest. Then she dragged him across the room and propped him up in a sitting position against one of the bunk beds. She removed his sodden clothing and found a forest ranger’s uniform that looked like it would fit him. After she’d dressed him, Sarah hefted Kevin into the bottom bunk and pulled the blankets up over him. She checked his breathing once more, and then brushed his wet bangs out of his eyes.

“It’ll be okay,” she whispered. “Just rest for a while. We’re safe now.”

Sarah changed out of her own wet clothes and put on another ranger’s uniform. The pants and shirt were both snug, but their dryness felt luxuriant against her bare skin. She stretched their wet gear out on the floor to dry, and then explored the station. In the entertainment center, she ran her hand over the television, DVD player, stereo, and video game consoles. Once upon a time, she’d have been overjoyed to discover these things. But not now. How archaic and useless they seemed, with no electricity to run them. She thought of the utility shed and the small power station below, at the base of the tower, and wondered if there was a generator, too. She made a mental note to check later, after she’d had a chance to rest up.

Also among the various home electronics, almost hidden behind a stack of movies on the bookshelf, was a battery-operated radio. Sarah pulled it down and studied it. It was an impressive piece of equipment, offering not just AM and FM bands, but shortwave, emergency, and citizens’ band channels, as well. It even had a small television screen built into it. She thumbed the power switch, but nothing happened. Then she popped open the battery compartment and saw why. There were no batteries inside. She wondered briefly why it was stored in this section of the room, rather than with the rest of the communications equipment, and decided that it must either be a back-up or a personal item one of the rangers had left behind. The radios in the communications section were much more sophisticated than this.

She poked around the room some more until she found a drawer full of batteries. She selected six ‘D’ batteries and put them in the radio. Then, holding her breath, she tried it again.

Sarah was rewarded with a burst of static. She jumped at the sudden sound. She hadn’t realized how quiet it was inside the tower—just her breathing and the muffled sound of the rain drumming down on the roof. Her pulse throbbed in her throat. Sarah fumbled with the volume knob and turned the radio down to a more tolerable level. Then she experimented with the tuner. She went through the FM dial first, and then the AM dial. Both offered nothing but more static. She switched over to the other channels, but they were silent. Sarah turned it back to the FM dial and sat down, listening to the static. The sound was somehow comforting—new white noise to drown out the rain’s familiar white noise. She turned the dial aimlessly, not expecting to hear anything else.

But then she did.

The voice was faint. Male. The speaker had a Boston accent. Sarah leaned forward, straining to hear and wondering if she was imagining the whole thing.

“My name… coming to you… alive… of the Pru Building… downto…”

The radio squawked with feedback. Cursing, Sarah slowly turned the knob, trying to find the signal again.

“… thing I want… Lisa and Alex, I love…”

The voice faded again.

“Damn it!” Sarah leaped to her feet, still holding the radio. She thrust it up over her head, pointing it towards the ceiling.

On his bunk, Kevin moaned.

“Anyway,” the voice returned, stronger and clearer now, “here I am. Hope somebody is listening. I always figured that when I died, I’d go out with a fight, getting back up to attack one more time, like Boramir in Lord of the Rings or Willem Defoe in Platoon. I’m a sucker for those great last stands. But lately, I’ve been wondering. A friend of mine just told me about the First Principle. Maybe we should talk about that.”

Sarah trembled with emotion. She wanted to shout, to tell the broadcaster that she could hear him, that yes, there was somebody else still left alive, somebody else still listening. She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the tears running down her chin.

“Damn,” said the man on the radio. “I’m really thirsty.”

Kevin moaned again. Sarah lowered the radio and turned to him. He was facing away from her, but she heard him smacking his lips.

“Thirsty,” he croaked. “Need water.”

She sat the radio down and hurried towards him.

“Kevin, there’s a man on the radio. I think he might be from Boston or something. The signal is weak, but he—”

Kevin turned towards her. His eyes were rolled up into his head, and all Sarah could see were the whites. Kevin smacked his lips again. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. He didn’t sound like himself.

“Soft…”

Sarah paused. “What?”

Kevin’s closed his eyes again.

Outside, thunder boomed across the mountaintop.