The Remedy Page 19

  Clementine nodded. “That’s right, Robbie. We’ve always put our family first, for as long as we’ve lived in these woods. Even the fuzz of the forest couldn’t break what we have. Right after the outbreak, every other single person living in this whole damn forest moved away. But not this family. This family sticks together. This is where we belong.”

  “But we’ve seen this fungus,” Sam said. “It kills. Quickly. Why the fuck aren’t you all dead?”

  A second slap met Sam’s mouth, but this time Leigh didn’t gasp. She was too heavily focused on Rob—the betrayer.

  Clementine brought her hand back into her lap and sighed. “You don’t listen very good, do ya, boy?”

  When Sam didn’t respond, she continued.

  “Now, like I was about to say until you interrupted me with that dirty mouth of yours…like any family, we’ve got secrets. Not from each other, mind you, but things only this family knows. And one of those things just happens to be the remedy for this hell-spawned disease.”

  She then pulled back on her wheels, away from the two prisoners. Pulling one wheel to pivot and face her family, she asked, “How’s it going, boys?”

  Bugger cleared his throat. “Rabbit’s a good meal…”

  “…Squirrel’s a good snack,” Rob said, taking the second line before handing it back to Bugger.

  “But a belly full of man…”

  Clementine turned back around to face Leigh, an awful grin splitting her chapped lips. “…And the fuzz don’t grow back.” Her smiled dropped slightly. “Well, at least for a while it don’t. You see, unfortunately the remedy ain’t permanent. So we try to always stock up the best we can so we can nip it in the bud whenever our skin starts to turn green. That’s where my dear nephew comes in.”

  Rob straightened, a look of pride washing over his face as he crossed his arms like a superhero posing for a movie poster. “Happy to do it, Auntie.”

  Clementine reached a hand out for her nephew, which Rob tenderly accepted. She stared at him as she addressed Leigh. “Isn’t he a sweetheart? I don’t know what we’d do without him. We used to keep fresh stock in the cellar at all times and that was working well for quite a while. But then—”

  For the first time since entering the room, Leigh saw the strength adorning the woman’s features fall to weakness. Clementine exhaled noisily, doing nothing to hide an obvious sadness.

  “Then that bastard Murray Dobson managed to make a run for it. I’ll never know how he managed to do it, but he somehow got the jump on my dear, sweet Seymour. With my husband gone, I knew we couldn’t risk keeping any live ones here anymore. I mean, what if that were to happen to me? My children would have no one left. And the thought of that is…”

  Clementine trailed off, the last sentence lost. Rapidly blinking, she brought herself back to the present. “But as the saying goes, there’s more than one way to skin a cat, and that’s where Robbie came in handy. He transfers to a new school every year and brings us a fresh batch of meat.”

  She playfully slapped Rob’s backside. “Just about has it down to a science, don’t ya, boy?”

  Rob practically blushed at his aunt’s compliment. “It’s really simple,” he said. “All I have to do is make some new friends, drive ’em up to Montreal for spring break, get a flat on the way back, and then let Bugger and Grizzly do the rest.”

  Rob came out from behind Clementine’s chair and walked in front of Sam where Leigh couldn’t see him. She could still hear his voice, though, as he looked at Sam and said, “Of course, you made things a little more interesting than usual. But as it turns out, you were nothing but the perfect patsy.”

  Although Leigh would’ve never thought there could be any emotion strong enough to overpower the primal fear overtaking her mind and body, that evaporated at Rob’s latest words. In its place was something far worse.

  Guilt.

  No, worse.

  Shame.

  The true enemy had been alongside her the entire time, leading her into this trap. But as Rob just pointed out, she had not only doubted Sam’s character, but accused him of treachery. She’d questioned his motives, kept a gun trained on his back, and even believed he’d murdered her best friend. But the only crime Sam was guilty of was hitching a ride with the wrong people. Leigh was as much to blame for Sam’s fate as Rob himself.

  Her voice came out as a whisper. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

  And Sam—the decent, kind-hearted person he’d been all along—said graciously, “It’s not your fault. How were you supposed to know your friend was related to a family of cannibals?”

  Rob returned to his prideful position behind his aunt’s wheelchair like a soldier supporting his general. “Ooh,” he said, grimacing. “You see, Auntie doesn’t really care for that term.”

  “Oh, really?” The fiery tenor in Sam’s voice seemed to come out of nowhere. Perhaps it was the multiple smacks upside his head that had brought back his fighting spirit. “Well, how about this? You’re all a bunch of fucking freaks.”

  Leigh braced herself for the sound of the blow that was sure to follow that outburst, but instead the old woman remained where she was. With the righteousness of a pastor leading a sermon, she simply stated, “We only do what we have to do.”

  Sam scoffed and Leigh could feel him shaking his head. “You only do what you have to do? Really? Sounds like there’s more bullshit being served around here than human flesh. C’mon, be honest: you people just do what you like. You only have to take one look at this little prick over here to know he takes far too much pleasure in eating other human beings.”

  It took Bugger a second to realize Sam was speaking about him. He jumped off the windowsill he’d been perched on and advanced toward Sam. “You saying there’s something wrong with taking pride in your work?”

  Sam sneered. “ ‘Work,’ he says. Did it ever occur to you that if you people actually did work, maybe this town would’ve had a better chance to stay afloat? Or were you too busy killing innocent people to stop and think about that?”

  “Sam,” Leigh said, stopping him before he could speak another insult. “You need to calm down.” Though their chance of survival had been small since the moment she woke up tied to this chair, Sam’s outburst was bringing that chance down to zero.

  Clementine removed her chin from its resting place in her hands and broke the silence she’d been keeping throughout the entirety of Sam’s tirade.

  “No, it’s okay, missy,” she said, an eerie somberness to her voice. “Though he could stand to learn some manners, your friend has every right to question our ways. I may be old, but I’m not so far gone that I can’t appreciate how difficult this all must be for both of you to take in. And with all honesty, I can’t downright say that I would believe myself if I were you. After all, talk is cheap. Isn’t that what they say?”

  She looked to Bugger and nodded a signal that the two of them seemed to understand. She turned to the giant known as Grizzly and did the same. The two siblings immediately marched out of the room, Bugger going outside and Grizzly heading down the staircase back to the cellar.

  Clementine watched as her children exited. Once gone, her gaze returned to her two captives. What she said next were the last two words Leigh ever expected to come from her mouth.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Leigh could only stare at her, speechless. The woman kept talking.

  “I know how strange that might sound, all things considered. But you two should know that all of this—it’s nothing personal.”

  “Nothing personal?” The disbelief in Sam’s voice mirrored her own. “You’re about to eat us, lady. You can’t get much more personal than that.”

  Clementine sighed and folded her hands in her lap. “I think you’d find me a whole different person if my children weren’t always around. The truth is, I never wanted to do any of this. And when my Seymour was still alive, I never had to. He took care of everything. Always told me that this wasn’t women’s work. All I had to
do was the cooking. By time the meat made it to my kitchen, it was just that. Meat. Could’ve come from anywhere. That made things so much easier.”

  Leigh searched Clementine’s wrinkled face for deceit. This had to be a trick, just another mind game. But Leigh could not find any evidence of trickery or amusement in the old woman’s eyes.

  “Seymour explained to me time and time again that what we were doing was absolutely necessary, but I never could shake that guilt monkey from my back. It had just about consumed me when Seymour left us to fend for ourselves. And that’s when I made my decision.”

  Leigh swallowed, her dry mouth making the action far more difficult than usual. “What decision?”

  Clementine leaned forward, staring her right in the eyes. “I decided that my children were never going to know the guilt I carried with me every day. They were going to have to continue my husband’s work, there was no way around that. In my old age, I lacked the strength and speed that a hunter needs. So it was up to them. But I was damned if I was going to raise those two believing there was anything wrong with what we do. No, my children were going to be happy.”

  From behind her, Leigh could feel Sam shrug. “Ignorance is bliss, right?”

  “As God is my witness,” Clementine replied, straightening in her chair.

  The back of Sam’s head rubbed back and forth against Leigh’s skull, his hair brushing across her neck as he shook his head.

  “Ma’am, may I be the first to congratulate you on a mission well accomplished. A little murder seems to make that sicko son of yours happier than a pig in shit.”

  Clementine frowned, but when she spoke, her voice did not rise in anger.

  “I’ll admit,” she said, “Bugger can get a little out of control. And the fact that he can take things a little too far is entirely my fault. But it’s far better than what he could’ve become. It’s better than living with the guilt.”

  A soft thumping noise emanated from underneath their feet and began to grow louder. Grizzly was beginning his ascent back up the cellar stairs. Upon hearing the noise, Clementine sprang forward in her chair, a sudden urgency entering her words.

  “I just wanted to clear that up before my babies got back. So don’t waste your breath telling me ‘this is wrong’ or ‘you can’t do this.’ I know the price of what we do. I’ve known it most of my life. But I can do this. And once my children return, I will.”

  She turned toward the opening cellar door.

  “For their sake.”

  With Clementine’s final word, Grizzly emerged at the cellar door’s threshold. Leigh inhaled a sharp breath when he she saw what the lumbering giant carried in his arms.

  A man dressed in a forest ranger uniform.

  Clementine returned her gaze toward Leigh and Sam. In the presence of her children, the callous, soulless look had returned to her eyes as if her confession had come from an entirely different woman.

  “It’d do no good for you two to hear me jaw on anymore about our remedy, would it? Because seein’ is believin’, right? No, what you two need is a demonstration.”

  The ranger was young, perhaps no older than Leigh herself. His ankles had been tied together, and his wrists were bound behind him. A slab of duct tape covered his mouth. However, the most unsettling part of this sight was his eyes, bulging with fear. This man was alive, awake, and totally aware of everything happening, and about to happen, to him.

  Grizzly slammed the man down on the table in front of Leigh, the same one that Rob and Bugger had just fought so viciously over. A loud “umph!” came from the man’s nostrils as his head connected harshly with the solid wood. From this close, Leigh could read the man’s nametag.

  DOUGLAS GRAHAM.

  “What are you doing?” Leigh screamed, turning toward Clementine. “Answer me, you bitch!” Leigh knew the crass insult would greatly offend the old woman—and that was exactly what she wanted. Pulling Clementine’s attention away from the young ranger was all she could think to do to help the man.

  But Clementine just smiled as if she hadn’t even heard the foul language. “Patience, child,” she said. “You’ll see.”

  Rob sauntered over to the table. “So…” He leaned closer to the man to read his nametag. “Douglas. It appears you found the note I left for you at the outpost.”

  “You left?” Sam spoke from behind Leigh, his words much calmer than before. “I wrote that note. It said to come to the hunting camp.”

  In three long paces, Rob walked over to Sam, digging for something in his pants pocket. He retrieved a wrinkled scrap of paper with scribbled handwriting, pinched between his two fingers.

  “You mean this note?” Rob brushed the paper against Sam’s cheek. “If you recall, I was the last one out of the station. Before I left, I switched notes, which led Ranger Rick here right to us. It’s too bad you guys were still asleep when he showed up. Grizzly clubbed him right off his four-wheeler.”

  “But he works for the Forest Service,” Sam said. “Authorities will know if anything happens to him.”

  The lantern light reflected off Clementine’s glasses, hiding her eyes behind a flickering glare. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” she said without a trace of anxiety. “Robbie isn’t the only one on the outside with our interests in mind. We’ve got someone who’ll be able to sort this out.”

  The cabin’s front door suddenly swung open. Sweat pouring from his brow and his breath coming in heavy gasps, Bugger grunted as he plodded into the room, a long, bulky burlap sack resting on his shoulder.

  “Grizzly!” His voice shook with exhaustion. “Get me a chair.”

  The larger sibling retrieved a nearby seat and placed it front of the kitchen table. With heavy steps that shook the entire floor, Bugger trudged over to the chair and threw the sack off his shoulder. Now that it sat upright at the table, Leigh noticed that the bag’s shape closely resembled that of a human body.

  “Damn,” Bugger said as he gasped to catch his breath. “Why’d I have to be the one to go all the way to the shed? Just about busted my back.”

  His mother simply raised a hand. “Oh, hush. You’ll live.” She then motioned Grizzly toward the sack. “Now. It’s time to greet our newest guest.”

  “Actually,” Rob added, “I believe they’ve already met.”

  Grizzly untied the knots clinching the top of the bag closed and pulled it down. When the bag was down halfway, Grizzly stepped to the side so Leigh could see who it was.

  She could not find the breath to scream.

  Somewhere underneath inches of thick, damp fungus sat Dale Preston, looking worse than ever. Buried beneath so much invasive fungal growth, any doctor would’ve assumed that he had long expired. But then again, they would’ve had to notice the slight, rhythmic movement of his chest. And they wouldn’t have missed the way the grassy hairs around Dale’s nostrils shivered every few seconds.

  Dale was more plant than human, but he was still alive.

  Bugger leaned over so he could look at Dale at eye level—or rather, where his eyes would’ve been.

  “Now what did I tell you, buddy?” As Bugger spoke, he made sure to keep his distance from the contagious hunter. “Didn’t I tell you not to take a dip in the lake? And just look at you now.” With a vigorous tug, he reached over to free the rusty cleaver with its blade buried in a cutting board. Bugger lifted it in front of Dale’s face, as if Dale could see anything.

  “I bet you’re just begging for this, aren’t you? Just one quick chop and all the pain goes away.”

  Leigh couldn’t believe her ears when a hissing noise came from Dale’s mossy lips like air escaping a flat tire. He was actually trying to speak.

  “Oh, save your breath, fungus face.” Bugger flipped the cleaver into the air, the blade doing a full rotation before the handle landed back in his hand. “This isn’t for you. No, you’re a lucky one. You have something far better in store. Something that’ll make you feel all better.”

  Bugger turned to his mother. “
Now, Ma?”

  Clementine returned a slow nod. “Go right ahead, son. It’s about time these two see the truth with their own eyes.” She tapped Grizzly’s arm. “Turn them so they can both see.”

  Leigh felt her feet leave the ground as Grizzly effortlessly lifted the two chairs and spun them counterclockwise. She now had to crane her neck to the right to see Douglas Graham pinned down by Grizzly’s massive arms. Sam, now twisting his neck to the left, was seeing the third prisoner for the first time.

  “Leigh,” he whispered, “close your eyes.”

  Mother Cedar slammed the armrest of her wheelchair. “You do that and I’ll cut them right outta your skull.”

  Knowing Clementine could be counted on to keep that promise, Leigh dared not even blink.

  They started with his ear. The cleaver’s blade must have been dull because it took three big whacks to sever the cartilage. The forest ranger screamed through the duct tape sealing his mouth shut and trembled as if he were lying on a wire frame bed connected to a car battery. But even with the slick blood rushing over Grizzly’s hands, the giant held him securely in place as Bugger pinched his ear lobe and tore away the remaining strands of tissue.

  Leigh kept telling herself it was just a movie, like that Quentin Tarantino flick that Marshall made her and Alex watch. But in the film, the camera had mercifully panned away when the psycho cut off the cop’s ear, and Leigh had only imagined what the amputation must have looked like, just like Tarantino intended.

  She had pictured something gruesome, bloody and nasty—but in a million years she hadn’t been able to imagine this look of absolute pain on the victim’s face as the tissue of his fibers snapped like rubber bands.

  Bugger, who’d been straddling Douglas as he performed his ghastly operation, swung his legs over his patient’s body and hopped off the table. He approached Dale, holding out the ear like a biscuit for an obedient dog.

  “For Christ’s sake,” Clementine suddenly hollered. “Wear a glove, you fool.”

  Sheepishly, Bugger marched over to a dust-covered cabinet and retrieved a pair of worn-out leather work gloves. Returning to Dale, he dangled the ear in front of his fuzz-covered lips.