Adermoor Cove: Dissolved Girl - 5. Chapter 5

Moira could no longer be sure how much time had passed. The three of them had probably been standing there for only a minute or two but it felt more like ten. Her legs were shaking so bad it was difficult to stand, but she didn't dare step away from the huddled protection of Lane and Ted.

For those few excruciating minutes, Ramona had given no further hints of where in the house she might be. Everyone was looking so intently at the door leading into the dining room they didn't think to look anywhere else.

By the time Moira noticed movement from the top of her vision it was too late. She looked up. Ramona was scuttling across the top of the ceiling like a fucking insect. Moira heard herself scream something but she wasn't sure what it was. It was enough to alert Lane and Ted. Ted lifted his Winchester and fired just as Ramona dropped from the ceiling, onto Ted.

Moira was deafened by the report of the Winchester. Somewhere, through the concussive alarm ringing inside her head, she could hear Ted's distressed shrieks. She went forward to hell but again Lane and she were already too late. Ramona was vomiting a thick, black ichor into his face.

Simultaneously, multiple things seemed to happen at the same time; it was as if some omnipresent force was playing with a universal remote, slowing things down and fast forwarding things to their own desire. Lane reacted faster than Moira ever could. With the butt of the gun, he pistol whipped Ramona across the face. As this was happening, Carlos and Jack Nichols came bursting into the dining room, just as Ramona was vomiting all over Ted Magyers.

His face motion captured in an almost comical expression of disgust and terror, Nichols pulled his gun free from his holster. He pointed it at Ramona, about to fire, but before he could, Carlos motioned for him not to.

Lane whipped Ramona again, this time hard enough to knock her unconscious. She went limp and fell over onto her side. Ted was making a terrible choking sound Moira was sure would haunt her for the rest of her life. The black fluid was seeping into his eyes, nose, and mouth like something alive. His eyes bugged out of his head; his face was a deep, dark red; his tongue hung out of his mouth as he retched.

Without really thinking, Moira stepped forward to try and help him - she had to do something, she couldn’t just stand around like Carlos and Nichols were. Before she could reach the old man, Lane shook his head at her. The expression on his face, eyes glimmering with tears but fighting to stay composed, frightened her more than anything else that had happened on this long, nightmarish night. “Get back. There’s nothing you can do for him.”

“What the fuck?” Nichols was saying now, and he kept repeating it. “What the fuck? What the fuck?”

Yes, Moira thought, good question.

When Ted stood, she knew the kindly lawyer was gone. An animal growl was emitting through his clenched teeth. It was a starved sound, but there was also anger and the intent to maim in it. Ted look at them with the same coal black eyes Ramona had. Those eyes zeroed in on Lane. Whatever creature Ted had become, it could clearly sense Lane Hardy was the one who posed the biggest threat to it. It lunged at him quicker than the body it possessed should have been able to do, as quick and graceful as a cat.

Lane was quicker.

He raised the little Wesson .36 he held in his hands and pulled the trigger.

Moira both heard and felt the cacophonic POP of the gun in her chest; she could literally feel vibrations somehow reverberating through her body. The smell of gunpowder assaulted her sense of smell. The moment she saw Ted’s body drop to the floor, as lifeless and hollow as a wooden dummy, Moira realized she hated guns. She had always disliked them in the back of her mind but now she abhorred them. They take lives far too easily, she thought.

Ted was dead.

Lane looked like he wanted to be. His eyes had gone glassy as if his mind and soul had left him. The gun dropped from his limp fingers, clattering as it hit the floor. Moira instinctively took a step back, wanting to distance herself from it.

I hope I never have to hold a gun again, she thought.

She watched Lane. She wanted to go to him but couldn’t make herself move. His face for a moment was as flat as a glacier, but she watched as the ice began to crack, then to break so she could see the water underneath. She knew he was going to break over what he’d done; not only had he killed another human being but that human being had been a friend. She felt her heart breaking for him.

She was glad when Carlos went to him, and took the younger man into his arms. Lane melted into Carlos’s arms, burying his face into his jacket to muffle the sobs. For the first time Moira realized just how truly vulnerable Lane Hardy was. He tries so hard to act like he doesn’t need anyone or anything, she thought, but really he needs us a lot more than we need him.

She felt more sorry for him than she had anyone else in her life. Even more than herself. Even more than Ramona.

For a minute - maybe longer; there was still the disorienting sense time had been disconnected and didn’t run at the same measurements human beings were used to - Moira had forgotten all about Nichols. Now he was peering cautiously over Ramona’s naked, unconscious body. “That’s Ramona Sterling!” he looked up almost accusingly at Moira. “I thought she was dead. We had a funeral for her and you were there. Hell, the whole town was.”

“She’s not,” was all Moira could bring herself to say.

Nichols swept a hand over his face. “The town will be talking about this for God knows how long.”

The town doesn’t know about it. Moira thought. The town doesn’t know about anything.

                            …

Lane didn’t know how long he stayed in Carlos’s arms before he was able to remove himself. Now is not the time to lose your shit, he told himself. There’s still too much that has to be done. There’s still the matter of Ramona.

Ramona was still lying on the floor, unconscious. There was no telling how long she would stay that way. Nichols was still examining and exclaiming of her like she was a form of insect he had never seen before. In one night Nichols’ illusion of his perfect town had been shattered. Lane thought he wouldn’t be the only one. Whether it was being psychic or just guessing, he suspected a whole lot of people were going to realize there was a whole lot more to Adermoor Cove than just a scenic view.

Jack Nichols was getting ready to poke Ramona experimentally with a finger. Moira was facing him but was too far gone into shock apparently to notice. Her face was slack, her eyes were wide and glassy. She had her hands clasped before her like a timid church mouse.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Lane shouted at Nichols. He jumped back, looking sheepishly in Lane and Carlos’s direction. Then he glared at Lane.

“I should have known you would have something to do with this,” he said. “Ever since you got here one bad things after another has happened. Now we got a dead man on our hands.”

To Lane’s surprise, Carlos took a step forward, putting himself between Nichols and Lane. “That’s enough, deputy,” he growled.

Jack looked away from Lane. Lane realized the deputy’s hands were shaking; sweat was dripping down from his forehead. Lane found himself wishing he hadn’t cussed at the deputy. “She’s infected,” he said in a gentler voice. “So is Ted. If you touch them you could get it too.”

“What do you mean infected?” Nichols demanded, Adam’s Apple bobbing. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You remember the bear that attacked Ramona and myself?” Moira’s voice was barely more than a whisper. She was still standing forlornly in front of Ramona; she looked lost. “It’s the same infection.”

“Why doesn’t anyone else know about this?” Nichols said.

“Because the mayor doesn’t want anyone to know about it,” Moira said angrily.

“Right, none of that matters,” Lane said impatiently. “We can explain everything to Nichols later. Right now we need to think about what we’re going to do with Ramona. The last thing we need is her waking up and infecting someone else. Carlos, do you have your handcuffs on you?”

Carlos nodded.

“Then handcuff her.”

He nodded, pulling the handcuffs from his belt. Nichols, to his credit, moved to Ramona’s side to restrain her should she wake up and try to move.

“Moira,” Lane instructed firmly, “why don’t you go upstairs and grab the blankets from my bed, anything we can find to cover her up with.”

Moira nodded and went off to complete the task he’d set her on. He let out a sigh of relief. At least we’re doing something now instead of just standing around like a bunch of idiots, he thought.

“Now what?” Nichols asked, once Ramona had been handcuffed and covered sufficiently in a blanket.

“How many people are at the Sheriff’s department?” Lane asked Carlos.

“Right now just Melvin the dispatcher. Everyone else has radios should he need to contact them.”

“Okay,” Lane said. “So there’s not going to be too many people around. Let’s secure her in one of the jail cells.”

“Are you crazy?” Moira said.

“Do you want me to help her or not?” Lane asked shortly. “We’d have a lot better chance of keeping her from harming anyone else there. Besides, I think it’s high time people start realizing what’s been going on here, don’t you think?”

I’m done playing by everyone else’s rules, he thought. This time we’re doing things my way.

                                                                    …

The two minutes it took to get the unconscious Ramona in the car was the longest two minutes of Lane’s life. Really it was quite simple. Seeing as the two cops were doing the lifting, all he had to do was stand by the door and hold it open for them. What made it so stressful was the fear that Ramona would wake up. Twice Nichols had to stop long enough to readjust his grip. But according to Carlos Ramona, who had always been petite, was quite light. Lane wondered what she had eaten the whole time she spent in the woods. He imagined her creeping around the woods, naked as the day she was born, feasting on rabbits and whatever else she could get her hands on.

Then there came the matter of Carlos and he sitting in the back with Ramona, while Nichols drove back into town with Moira sitting in the front with him. The silence of the car was thick. Lane did his best to ignore the smell of damp soil and unwash coming from Ramona.

Finally they reached the police station. Carlos and Nichols scrambled to get Ramona through the double doors. Melvin goggled comically at them from behind the glass window.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

“Melvin,” Carlos said, “I need you to not ask any questions at this exact second. Just help us by getting a cell door open.”

Melvin nodded and got up from his chair. He quickly unlocked the cell with a ring of keys. Carlos and Nichols gently set Ramona on one of the beds, making sure to cover her up. They got out of the cell. Carlos locked the cell. “Whooh,” he said, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm.

“Jesus Christ!” Melvin exclaimed. “It’s Ramona! I thought she was dead!”

No one bothered to tell him she obviously wasn’t. Carlos and Nichols took a minute to catch their breath.

“Do you think the bars will hold her?” Moira asked Carlos.

“They should,” he said. Then with less certainty, “I hope so.” He looked to Lane. “Since you’re the man in charge, what’s next? We still have to deal with Ted.”

Lane’s heart plummeted at the thought of Ted’s death. His body was still back at the lighthouse, exactly in the spot where he’d died. Lane could still feel the jerk of the gun when he had pulled the trigger. Another person dead at my hands, he thought. How many people have to die because of me before this nightmare ends?

He pushed the emotions threatening to engulf down; now was not the time to have another panic attack. “Carlos, will you let me into the cell with her?”

“What?” Carlos said. This obviously wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “No - that’s too dangerous.”

“I’m going to wake her up, try to see if I can get through to her and get it out of her.” Lane was speaking through clenched teeth. If another person says something stupid, I’m going to fucking explode.

Carlos sighed and unlocked the cell door again.

“Lock it right behind me,” Lane told him. “Okay, does anyone have hands steady enough to record this. We need evidence.”

Both Moira and Carlos shot him wide-eyed looks.

“Look, people!” Lane shouted, this time not giving a damn whether Ramona woke up or not. “We do not have time to fuck around! I’ve tried playing by the rules and it’s gotten people killed! Poor Ted is dead! So someone, pull out your fucking cell phone and get the camera rolling!”

He sat on the bed across from Ramona. Okay. Time to focus. He took a deep breath, let it out, took another one, let it out again. After a few breaths his racing heart began to slow. While the tension didn’t completely leave his body it eased a little. When he was sure he was relaxed, he focused on Ramona, and reached out to her through the tide. Gently, he nudged her with his mind.

Ramona, wake up.

And Ramona began to stir.