Then he heard a howl in the distance.
It wasn’t like anything in the movies or nature shows he’d seen on TV. It was powerful and pained at the same time. It could have drifted through the air from miles away or it could have originated from the closest row of trees.
Cole laughed to himself and shook his head. “I gotta be out of my damned mind.”
Turning toward the cabin, he took another few steps and heard the howl again. It came from that direction.
He didn’t know if there were survivors, where they would have gone or how long ago they’d started running. What he did know for certain was that the only thing he could do if he found that creature was make it sick by clogging its stomach with his own body.
Hefting the bag over his shoulder, Cole turned from the cabin and ran.
Chapter 5
Cole ran until his legs could no longer carry him. Surrounded by tall trees and with the cabin nowhere in sight, he felt safe. Then he realized the creature was probably more at home in those trees than it had been inside the cabin. Dropping Gerald’s bag, he leaned against the nearest tree and slid down the trunk until he was seated with his legs splayed out in front of him.
“What the hell do I do now, Gerald?” he asked aloud as he laughed and leaned his head back against the tree. “Come on! You wanna guide me? Show up and guide me! What’s the matter? There are monsters, but no ghosts? Of course there aren’t any ghosts! A ghost would be too fucking helpful right now, so heaven forbid one might actually show up to make my life easier!”
Cole was suddenly very conscious of the fact that sweat was freezing onto his forehead. When he tried to touch his brow, he cracked the handle of Brad’s knife against his head. Having forgotten he was even carrying the knife, he set it down so he could open the bag and sift through it. Some of Gerald’s clothes were in there, along with a shaving kit, books, a pair of glasses, and then all the way at the bottom he came upon an object that made him smile.
Recognizing the brand of the satellite phone in his hand, Cole fought the urge to kiss it. “Screw it,” he muttered as he placed his lips upon the plastic cover and gave it some love. He almost gave it some more when he flipped open the cover and saw one bar of signal strength showing up on the display. Sure enough, the phone was connected to a satellite service that had always been too expensive for him to use. He took Gerald’s laminated card from his pocket and read it over so he could be sure to dial the correct number. The last thing he wanted to do was waste battery life on stupid mistakes. After checking the number once more, he pressed the Send button and held the phone up to his ear.
There were a few clicks, followed by a series of beeps. Then, like a song from an angel, there came a ring tone. Finally, someone answered.
“Hello, this is MEG Branch 40,” said the voice on the other end of the connection. It wasn’t an angel and it sure as hell didn’t sound like someone who would be named Meg.
“Uh, hello?” Cole replied.
“This is MEG Branch 40. How can I help you?” The voice on the other end sounded like a man at least ten years his junior, and more than a little perturbed. After sighing heavily, the man asked, “Are you looking for anyone in particular or do you have an instance to report?”
“An instance?” Cole chuckled to himself and let out a breath. “I sure do have an instance, but I don’t think you’d believe it enough to write it down in a report.”
“Try me.”
Using a cell phone and speaking to an annoyed operator had given Cole a small dose of normality. He’d also settled down enough to remember why he’d dialed the number in the first place.
“I need to speak to Paige,” he said.
“Paige who?”
And, with that one simple question, Cole realized an important question he’d forgotten to ask Gerald. “Uhhh, the one in Chicago.”
“Look, I understand you may be a bit confused right now,” the operator said in a surprisingly calm and supportive tone. “If you have someone you need to speak to, I can try to get you in touch with them. We don’t have a Paige who works here, though. You said you had an incident to report. Why don’t you start with that?”
Lowering his voice as if he was afraid a nearby beaver might be eavesdropping, Cole said, “I’m a friend of Gerald’s and he had this phone on him.”
“Gerald, huh? Is this a prank?”
“No. You’ve got to listen.”
The annoyance was back in force within the young man’s tone. When he spoke again, Cole had no trouble picturing one of the skinny little code crunchers from Digital Dreamers rolling his eyes and doodling on whatever paper was in front of him.
“You got some story you want to tell?” the young operator asked. “Then go ahead and tell it. Just make it real funny or real dirty, otherwise I’m sure I’ve heard better from some of the other comedians that call us.”
“There’s a man named Gerald—” Cole started.
“Cool. I’ve never had someone call with a limerick before.”
“Just shut up and let me finish.” Sensing he’d just bought himself no more than a few seconds of the operator’s attention, Cole went for the jugular. “Gerald’s dead.”
Without much of a pause, the operator said, “All right. Have you been seeing this Gerald person or do you just hear his voice? Are you certain the man you’re talking about is Gerald and not some other manifestation?”
Cole stared down at the snow and then at the phone in his hand. Although he wasn’t convinced he was insane just yet, he was getting awfully close. “What in the hell are you talking about? Who are you?”
“This is MEG Branch 40, sir. You dialed us, remember?”
Looking at the same words as they were printed upon Gerald’s card, Cole asked, “Does MEG stand for something?”
“Of course. We’re the Midwestern Ectological Group. Branch 40. Did you need another branch?”
“An ecological group?”
“Ectological,” the operator clarified. “As in spirits and other nonphysical entities.”
“Is ‘ectological’ even a word?” Cole asked.
“If you want to report a manifestation, get to it. The only reason I haven’t hung up on you is because you’re calling from one of our satellite lines. Come to think of it, whose phone is this? Did Walter put you up to this? Goddamn it, he did, didn’t he? Or did you steal this phone? Oh man, you’d be wise to drop it and run right now.”
Still looking at the card, Cole said, “I have a number to give you.”
“Go ahead.”
He rattled off the digits that were printed on the card beneath the phone number. At first he could hear the operator grumbling something about sending Walter a scathing e-mail. But before Cole was halfway through the numbers, the operator was scrambling frantically enough to knock something over on his end of the connection.
“Holy crap,” he said. “That’s a…you’re…”
Hearing the panic and frustration in his voice did Cole a bit of good. It seemed misery truly did love company. “Do you need me to repeat that number?” he asked.
“Hold on a second.”
A series of clicks was followed by a few short bursts of static. Meanwhile, Cole felt his stomach flop again as he thought he’d been disconnected. When the operator’s voice came back, it wasn’t as clear as it had been before, but there was more than enough intensity in it to make up the difference.
“I’m really sorry about all of that before,” he said. “I had to secure the line. Could you give me that number one more time?”
Cole repeated the digits. This time he even included the dashes that were written between a few of them. When he was done, he could hear the unmistakable clacking of fingers on a keyboard.
“Are you still there?” Cole asked.
“Yeah, yeah. Just looking up your ident code.”