“Dark night!” he muttered in disgust as he hurriedly pulled off the jacket as well as he could, first freeing one arm and then the other. He began to twist the sleeves tighter and tighter, finally managing to crush part of the bloodsucker inside the coat. A brackish red fluid started to pour from under the leather, and a horrific smell of decay flooded J.B.’s nostrils, making him gag even as he continued to crush the mutated leech with his bare hands.
When Ryan reached Doc, the old man had fallen over in the water, his legs kicking up as he struggled to breathe. The panga bit deep into the pulpy surface of the leech, releasing a pulsing stream of red blood. More and more of the thick fluid came rushing out as Ryan pulled the blade downward in a vertical slash along the leech’s body.
Ryan pulled Doc upright, trying to get him to stand on his own two feet, while J.B. staggered over and wrapped an arm around Doc’s waist. The old man’s body continued to thrash and contort as he struggled for survival. “He hasn’t gone limp yet, and that’s a good sign,” Ryan said as he gripped the edges of the dying bloodsucker’s anterior end that still clung to Doc’s face.
He hesitated, not knowing just how tightly the leech had attached itself. The creature had dozens upon dozens of tiny, needle-sharp teeth, and all of them were buried in Doc’s flesh. Ripping the leech away might save Doc’s life but disfigure him permanently.
“Do it,” J.B. said, sharing Ryan’s thoughts. “Better alive and ugly than dead and pretty.”
Ryan begin to tug, hoping he wasn’t going to pull away most of the old man’s face. Unfortunately the leech proved to be annoyingly true to its name. Even after the beast’s death throes, the now slack creature refused to let go.
“No good. I’m going to pull his eyes right out of his head like this,” Ryan said. “I’ll have to cut it off.”
He peered intently at the join where the bloodsucker’s skin met Doc’s and gave himself a quarter-inch margin for error. The tip of the honed blade of the panga slid into the bloodsucker, and Ryan pulled the blade down. More of the creature’s red life’s fluid poured out, coating his hands and upper arms. The coppery smell of fresh blood hung in the air like a sodden blanket. Ryan knew the new color was Doc’s blood, sucked out by the parasitic beast.
He had cut away half of the leech’s head when it finally let go, the evil teeth releasing their hold. The one-eyed man peeled the rest of the sagging mess of grue back from Doc’s pale white face like a gory death mask.
“Thank you!” Doc gasped, sucking in a chestful of air. The dead-fish pallor of his skin was offset by an almost perfect red ring from chin to forehead where the attaching teeth of the bloodsucker had bit. He coughed in between gulps of air.
“Can you walk?” Ryan asked, glancing at the river water. “We’ve got to get out of here before more of these bastard leeches show up.”
Doc didn’t say anything, but his body did the talking for him as he stepped forward and headed for shore. J.B. spied the lost boot half floating, half submerged behind Doc. He snatched it up, pouring out the water that had collected inside as he and Ryan followed the old man as quickly as they dared.
“THERE IS NO SAFE HAVEN,” Doc whispered, all of the fight sucked out of him along with what Mildred guessed to be over two pints of blood.
“Not true. Safe haven was at the riverbank. You’re the one who left it to go splashing around the water, and look what it got you,” Mildred replied as she cleaned the deep wound on the upper part of his left foot. “This will take a little longer to heal than your average abrasion, and this rain isn’t going to help. Bloodsucking leeches produce a chemical called hirudin. It prevents the blood from thickening and makes it easier for the leech to—”
“I get the picture, Dr. Wyeth,” Doc said weakly. “Your words and terminology paint a most disturbing portrait.”