got him upright, his arm over my shoulder, my arm around his back. The smells of institutional disinfectant and cheap soap filled my nose, and I could almost taste his sweat. We shambled back the way we came. The scabs on my hand tore open, and I felt sticky blood stain the back of his shirt.
I didn't dare look back. Was the Townie gaining on us? I couldn't imagine outrunning him, after the Townies overpowered the staff, but maybe he didn't care about us patients, or maybe his work shift was over, or maybe we looked too grotesque to bother.
The air blurred in front of me.
The Townie stood before us, only ten feet away. I hadn't seen him run around us. I hadn't seen one approach from the front. He just appeared, as if by magic.
From this close, he looked like a genetic experiment gone horribly wrong. His nose was the most obvious change, tri-lobed and black. The lobes shifted as he looked at us, almost prehensile like a cow or a rat. His fingers were too long and too jointed. He wore no clothes. His penis was incongruously human, more hairy than any I'd seen but shockingly familiar. If he'd been erect, I think I would have completely lost it.
Gasping, I pulled Richard to a stop. Richard pushed me back and shouted "Sherry! Run!"
I staggered backwards, windmilling my arms to catch my balance, twitching and shaking and just about collapsing. My feet left asphalt and went to grass.
Richard leaped at the Townie, driving forward with his good foot, arms outstretched, hands hooking for its face. They collided. The impact knocked the Townie back.
I wavered where I stood. Then the Townie seized Richard's shoulders.
I turned.
I ran.
I ran too fast, my feet unable to keep up, but somehow I held my balance through the involuntary tics and shivers. My hands oscillated out of control, nervous impulses running amok through my plaqued nerves, my brain's messages disappearing into ravaged nerves.
Richard screamed. His terror and panic bled through my skin, and while my heart begged me to go back I kept my feet staggering forward.
The screaming stopped like it had been severed with a knife.
I didn't have time to cry. I didn't have time to wipe away the water in the edges of my vision. I ran and scuttled and did everything I could to carry myself back towards the smoking ruins of the Portal building, towards the invaders who had destroyed what little life I still had.
Then Richard said "Sherry."
The timbre of his voice had changed. The childlike lilt had vanished. He sounded firm and commanding and capable, like I imagined he sounded back on Earth, before CJD ripped out the top of his brain. He sounded like a man I would have had to turn down a date with, because I would have wanted it to be serious and my genes wouldn't permit that.
"Sherry, stop. It's all right. You don't have to be like this."
The air quivered before me, and the Townie stood there. His hands were now upraised to protect his face. I saw scratches from Richard's jagged bitten nails.
I heard even footsteps behind me.
The Townie reached for me.
I kicked him in the crotch.
The Townie's eye's bugged out, and when his air blew out I smelled chlorine even more strongly. The impact threw me back, and I landed hard on my rump, toppling backwards, striking my head against the road. My vision turned gray, with a halo of black around the edges.
Richard said "We trespassed. But they're here to help us."
The gray wobbled like gelatin, and the spinning in my brain started to ebb. I tore my fingers scrabbling at the ground, trying to regain my balance, trying anything to just get to my feet, my legs thrashing to just find my feet.
Then the Townie walked over and plunged down at me.
His hands on my wrists were clammy and damp, and his breath stank of bleach with an undertone of fish. I screamed, thrashing. He didn't resist, content to just hold my wrists as I flung myself back and forth. My hand slapped against the side of his head. I'd like to say I tried to hit him. Blood from my injured hand smeared across the scratches Richard had left on the Townie's cheek. I screamed.
The Townie let me go, falling back to his knees.
Somewhere, Richard made a stuttering inhuman sound, like an engine belt catching on something each spin.
I scrabbled backwards, feet kicking, arms flailing, my wrists still damp where the Townie's clammy paws had seized me.
The Townie shuddered. His back arched. His head tilted back. I saw unfamiliar muscles ripple beneath taut skin and teeth clatter against each other. He let out an unearthly shriek that I imagined to be pain. Agony.
Sudden silence. He sagged forward. His chin dropped to his chest. His hands twitched on his thighs.
I rolled over, getting to my own knees, my hands fumbling at the ground to push me up. My breath shook in and out.
The Townie smiled at me. The first human expression I'd seen on that face. And I'd seen that particular smile before. On my little brother. The classic overstretched grin of Angelman's Syndrome. He gave a laugh, his voice thick, as if he hadn't practiced it before, and clapped his hands together joyfully.
Revulsion twisted my stomach at the sight. I knew Gary's smile was a symptom of his disease. I'd seen other Angels, and they all had that happy grin to one degree or another. But that precise smile belonged to my brother. To see it on this alien's face kindled the marrow in my bones. I let out a harsh snarl and steadied my feet, ready to walk forward and bludgeon his face until his broken teeth shredded his smile.
Richard said "Sherry." His voice had lost its new firm confidence, but he still had the timbre. "They're coming."
The Townie laughed again. I heard childish glee behind the alien tones.
I grabbed Richard's arm and tugged. He rocked on his feet, but didn't otherwise move.
I turned to stare at Richard's face. He shook his head, eyes sad. "I can't go with you. I can feel them. They can feel me, too. They know something happened to one of theirs." He pointed at the hideous, smiling Townie. "They're shocked. Horrified." He closed his eyes, putting his hands over his face. "I'll tell them I didn't see which way you went."
I shook my head. "No." The word came out almost recognizable.
"The human territory now begins about three miles east of here. Once you get through the border, you'll be safe. You've been a good friend. When I didn't have any. I think. I think. I think I loved you. But I think – no. I have new friends now." His voice caught. "I'm sorry."
I sobbed, whirled, and like broken clockwork, let my ratcheting twitching steps carry me away.