Genesis Echo (Deathlands 25) by James Axler

“The stitches?” Ryan queried. “I’ve had some in my days, but he looks like a map of the Everglades.”

“Two or three hundred, easy.” Mildred stopped and peered at them more closely. “Some are recent. Some look months old. But it’s like the other factors. There’s no illness known to man that would need so many stitches, all over the place.”

“Not knife wounds?” Jak asked.

“No, definitely not. Look, they relate to different major organs.” She touched him gently as she spoke. “Lungs. Liver. Kidney. Large intestine. Several around the urine-genital system. Joints have been opened. Knee, elbow and shoulder. Looks like a human guinea pig.”

“What’s killing him?” Ryan asked.

“Too much surgery. That’s the simple, facile answer. But what he’s doing way out in the wilds of Acadia National Park defeats me. Lost a mess of blood. I think he must have some serious disease, as well. Streaks around his thighs show he lost control of himself, way back. Maybe it’s cholera or typhoid.”

“Contagious?” Krysty asked, taking a few steps back from the dying man.

“Could be. Doubt we need to worry. He’s so weak that a kitten fart could sweep him away.”

Trader’s curiosity had overcome his brief anger, and he had rejoined the group. “Looks to me like he escaped from some kind of baron’s torture.”

“If that’s the case, then we should keep well clear of the baron who did this.” Mildred turned away.

Dean knelt. “He’s trying to speak.”

“Doubt it,” Mildred said. “So far gone I reckon but his lips are moving all right. See if you can hear, Dean.”

The boy laid his head close to the man’s face. The blue eyes had started to open, gazing blankly at the lightening sky that was heralding the coming dawn.

Ryan was staring down into the eyes, and he actually saw the precise moment that life became extinct, the fraction of a second when life departed and eternity flooded in.

“Gone,” he said quietly, touching his son on the shoulder. “It’s over, Dean.” The boy straightened, standing up, looking puzzled. “What did he say? Anything?”

“Not too sure, Dad.”

Ryan held his son by the arm. “Doesn’t matter if it sounds stupe, or if you aren’t sure. Could be important. What did it sound like?”

“Thought he said ‘twins.’ Then another word that sounded like ‘coning.’ Didn’t make sense.”

“Coning?” Mildred probed. “Not ‘coming’?”

“No. Might’ve been ‘moaning,’ I guess.”

“Doesn’t much matter, does it?” J.B. said. “We’ll probably never know what happened to the poor man. What do we do with the corpse?”

“Leave it,” Trader responded instantly. “We move on in another couple of hours. Let it lie.”

Jak had stiffened, head to one side, eyes narrowed as though he were concentrating. “Hear dogs and men.”

Everyone froze.

Krysty made a small gesture with her right hand. “Yeah, I can hear them.”

Ryan shook his head. “Fireblast! Wish I had your hearing! How far? Coming this way?”

The albino turned to Krysty. “Could be little as mile? Water noise makes difficult be sure. This way?”

She nodded. “Agree on all that, Jak.” Krysty glanced at the pale body by her feet, saying to Ryan, “After him?”

“Mebbe. They’ll almost certainly have spotted our fire. Must stand out like a bunch of stickies at a baron’s wedding. If they’re looking for the chill, then it’s probably better they don’t find him here.”

“I fail to see why having found the doomed wretch should bring us into difficulty,” Doc said. “We are totally innocent, if they be his friends.”

“What if they don’t beif they aren’t his friends? What if the men coming are the ones that did this to him? Might not want witnesses.”

“Might not even get around to asking any questions,” Trader added.

“In the woods?” Dean looked behind them into the circle of blackness that surrounded the fire.

“They got dogs.” Abe sniffed. “Be light soon.”

“Put him in the pool.” Ryan rubbed the side of his nose, considering his own suggestion. “Don’t know how deep it is.”

“Be a floater. Just chilled.” Trader drew his own knife. “Unless we open him up and fill his guts with stones.”