The thing on Seti’s back was driving him crazy. It hurt worse than his bullet wound, which, fortunately, had turned out less severe that he’d originally thought. The bullet had passed right through him, and had miraculously missed any vital organs. Monique, who had been a nurse before she and her twin sister joined him, had been able to patch him up and stop the bleeding. But she couldn’t do anything about the monstrous growth that had appeared on the back of his neck.
The thing itched constantly with a stabbing pain that was worse than knives being driven into his flesh.
“It’s your own fault,” the thing had informed him. “Since you took the girl away too quick, I have to feed on your suffering.”
Seti vowed that he’d find a new victim immediately to placate the demon. If it didn’t drive him insane first. He’d also need to replace Tony to make up the twelve he needed to follow him. Tony’s death had been fortunate, he thought. He’d wanted to get rid of him anyway, so it couldn’t have worked out better. The demon had instructed him what to do; they’d carefully moved the big man’s body and left it beside the road on Route 102 where an early morning commuter would be sure to find it.
“The bullets will match those in the Indian’s gun,” the demon had said. “And he’ll be arrested and out of our way. Until we want him, that is.”
Seti had to admit, it couldn’t have worked out better. Now, if only he could get something decent to eat. Rhonda, the pregnant one, was supposed to be bringing him food. Where the hell was she?
He got up and looked out the window of his small camper. There she was, talking with Ryan. It looked as if they were up to no good. He didn’t trust Ryan anyway.
The pain in his neck flared up like a volcano, burning and hot and sharp all at the same time. He tried to rub the thing with his hand, but it was hot to the touch. The pain only made him angry. That bitch! Why isn’t she here with my food!
The pain died down just enough to fuel his fit of rage further. He stormed out the door and over toward her. Both Rhonda and Ryan looked suddenly very guilty, as if they’d been caught stealing from the cookie jar.
“Damn you!” Seti fumed. “Where’s my food? I’m hungry, damn it!”
“I…I have some soup here for you,” she said, nervously, holding up a small pot.
“Soup! It’s July and hotter than hell. I don’t want soup! I want real food.”
He lashed out and sent the pot flying. The hot liquid scalded Rhonda’s bare arms, causing her to scream. This only infuriated him further.
“Stop whining, you ugly bitch!” he screamed. Then in a moment of pure hatred, he forgot everything: who he was, where he was, and what he was supposed to do. He rolled his fist into a ball, wound up and punched the woman so hard in the stomach that he dislocated his wrist. The pain shot up his arm and into his shoulder blade.
Too late, he realized that he’d hit something else, too. He felt something pop inside the woman, felt her hard, pregnant belly suddenly go flaccid. She staggered backwards, holding herself and gasping for breath. Then her water broke, unleashing a putrid stream down her legs, a stream of blood-soaked liquid that suddenly reminded him of the child, and the reason he was here.
“No!” he heard himself scream, and then realized it wasn’t him screaming at all, but the thing inside him, the thing that was living in the growth on his neck.
He had killed the unborn child, all right. He’d felt it and known it as soon as it had happened. And the thing living inside him was not pleased. It had had plans for that baby. And for the second time in one night, its plans had been spoiled.