He was moving. Floating in the darkness. Breathing. He was able to breathe again. There was something hard under his back. Sudden lurch, and he hit the back of his head, sitting up gagging and gasping for air.
“Wow… She was right…”
He was at the back of the truck, side by side with Vasquez who looked already much better than the last time he had seen her. Woman reached with her hand and it fell limply on his thigh, fingers squeezing weakly.
“Hands off… I think I’m going to be sick…” He pulled his knees against his chest and hid his face against them, forcing back the bile that had risen to his mouth.
“Were you really dead, commander?” He could hear Vasquez asking. She was rubbing his lower back.
“Watch it… I need to lay down…” He flopped on his back, shivering and panting from the effort it had taken to simply sit up for few seconds. Nausea escalated. Something was sliding and churning inside of him, slithering around, pushing and poking delicate organs.
“Marie…”
“She’s driving. You’ve been out for two whole days. I wanted to bring you back, but she said you’d come around on your own,” Vasquez gave him the update.
“Tell her to stop the truck… I feel like shit…” He curled on his side and felt immediately better, as if heavy weight had been lifted from top of him. He could hear Vasquez shouting something, then the truck shuddered and he could feel it slowing down, then stopping completely.
“There’s something wrong with me… Inside of me… What happened to that sticky fucker?” He asked, sitting hunched on the edge of the lorry, stinky evidence of his bout of nausea drying in the sun on the sand beneath his dangling feet. Marie was sitting beside him, keeping him upright. Her hands were stroking his stomach.
“It just died. Died off after couple of hours. I threw it out and kept on driving. Figured you’d be okay when you started breathing.”
“I’m not fucking okay… Oh, God… I think I’m going to…” He managed to lean forward just in time to avoid soiling his clothes with acidic mixture of bile and blood his body expelled.
“Better?” Marie asked when he leaned backwards, wiping his mouth.
“Little…” He huffed hoarsely and accepted a bottle of water Vasquez pushed in his hands, taking a careful sip and rinsing his mouth. He couldn’t bring himself to actually swallow the water, but it felt good on his tongue.
“What’s this?” Marie asked. Her hand had slipped under his shirt and he could feel her fingers poking and prodding his upper stomach, just under his ribcage. He spat out the water.
“What’s what?” He asked. She took his hand and brought it on his stomach.
There was a bulge. Approximately the size of his fist. Hard, and skin was stretched over it taut.
“I have no fucking idea of what it is.”
“You haven’t pulled a muscle lately?” Marie asked.
“Pulled a muscle? You mean it’s some sort of hernia? I kind of doubt that…” Logan uttered grimacing.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah… I’m no doctor but I’m quite sure that hernias aren’t supposed to grow a pair of hands when you poke at them…”
“Grow a pair of hands… Logan, are you hallucinating? … Oh, my God!”
Logan had unbuttoned his shirt. As she watched the bulge disappeared momentarily, and then something, as a pair of very small hands with three fingers each pushed against Logan’s skin from the inside of him.
“It isn’t dead. It’s inside of me… And I think it wants out…”
“Out?” Vasquez asked. He grimaced and screwed his eyes shut. He could hear the creature inside of his mind, screaming and screeching. It was already preparing for the birth. He didn’t know why he could understand it, but it was plain as a day. One way or the other it was going to come out.
He grasped blindly the hand that had landed on his shoulder, fleeting wish that it was Marie’s instead of Vasquez’s flickering through his mind. He’d crush the delicate bones he felt in his grip. Marie would heal, but Vasquez would be crippled for life. Then there was only pain, and he could hear somebody screaming. He was tearing open. Warm, eager blood was gushing over his stomach and pooling over his lap.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I guess Logie got finally enough of foof and butterflies.