Primal - By D.A. Serra Page 0,36
because of the pooling blood. She continues to aim at his dead body and uses her feet to push away on her back. She sits. She is covered in blood and sweat. Her right cheek is turning deep purple and her eye swells. She struggles to her feet.
Ben slides up next to the front door and yells out, “Gravel?” “Kent?” No response. Wild-eyed, he walks to the hostages. “Who is out there?” No response from the terrified group. Ben grabs Bruce, jerks him to his feet, and shoots him dead. Agonizing screams from the hostages! “Again, who is out there?”
Alison hears the gunshot from inside the lodge. She grabs Gravel’s gun from his dead wet hand. Suddenly, she feels so oddly calm; the lights have been turned off inside of her and she is at peace in the dark. She is not confused. She is not scared. Everything that hurt has stopped hurting.
* * *
Chapter Sixteen
On the floor of the forest, approaching the lodge, hands are digging into the mud, a pair of strong hands, pulling through the dirt, grabbing the exposed tree roots and using them to propel his body. Moving at a powerful speed. Closing the distance. Released from a nihilistic void, Curtis crawls into violence.
Alison kneels down, gets some leverage, and wrenches her knife from Gravel’s back. She meticulously wipes it on his jacket and slips it back into her pants. Abruptly, a blast of static and then, loudly over the camp P.A. system, Ben’s voice.
“Listen carefully,” Ben’s voice fills the air.
Alison slinks from the tin shack and drops to the ground behind a rock between the shed and the lodge.
In the lodge over by the bookcase, Ben holds the microphone for the P.A. system. His tone carries the sureness that comes naturally from being the smartest one in the room. His chilling authority is implicit in every word. “I’m going to kill one hostage every five minutes until you come on in here so we can chat. And for everyone’s sake, my brothers had better not be hurt. You have four minutes.”
Alison considers her options. She could rush the main room shooting. But Jimmy or Hank could be easily killed that way. Think.
Meanwhile, those arms, muscular and gnarled, pull, pull, over the ground and approach the lodge because Curtis is no longer numb. He feels it. He can’t help but feel it. His breathing is thick and labored but he is not slowing down. He is almost there. To do what? He doesn’t know. He knows only that doing nothing is no longer his life.
Alison analyzes in eerie stillness. She scans the area around the lodge, the path, the shed - all areas she knows thoroughly now. She sees with different eyes. The connections in her mind have been rearranged. What is left of her grip on humanity is screaming at her not to allow another hostage death. Rationally, she knows giving up kills everyone. She knots her fingers in her hair and it looks like she might yank it out by the roots and not even notice.
Over the P.A., “Three minutes.”
And she lets loose! Alison utters a long loud wail, a wail that has been waiting, that has been gathering inside of her since that very first moment. It is an aberrant sound: not recognizably human yet not resembling any animal. The plaintiff yowl echoes through the camp with a searing rawness. Ben hears it and finds it exciting. It stirs the ugly stew at the core of him. He doesn’t know what he’s dealing with, but if it sent his brothers into hiding, it must be powerful and cunning. The possibility that someone could have killed both his brothers is unthinkable. He considers what tools are at his disposal. He knows he is missing something. Something has been bothering him. And then, what he can only attribute to divine intervention, as a gift from God it comes to him. A small grin crawls across his face. He locks eyes with Hank. Hank holds his stare defiantly, but he sees it: the shift, the twinkle of delight from a puzzle solved. Ben begins talking directly to Hank and walking over, “I think the lady wants to be left alone. That’s what you said to my brother. I think the lady wants to be left alone. Like you didn’t know her. Odd words for a husband.” Hank does not give in to the force of Ben’s gaze. He holds his eyes with strength and says nothing.