Ben Dover's Arc

Chapter 12 of 150

They left Barb's gully with two boxes in Ben's coat and one problem the tears hadn't fixed. The barking animal pulled at its rope, loud as ever. Barb had told Ben not to bring it back. That meant the next jar of tears had to come from somewhere else, and the sound that hid them on the road would have to end before then. Anita said it plain on the trail. "We can't keep the animal and go back to her. Pick one." "We need her box," Ben said. "We need the animal too. The creature's still on us." Justin looked at the pines behind them. "It's closer than yesterday. I can feel the boxes buzz when it's near." They argued down the slope until the trees thinned. A low stone shape sat in the clearing, half swallowed by moss. A squat door, cracked lintel, no path leading to it. Easy to walk past. Ben almost did. A figure stood in the doorway. Small, wrapped in gray cloth from jaw to wrist, hood pulled low. Two yellow points where eyes should be. She held a rag over the mouth of a clay pot and did not look up when they stopped. "Stay back six paces," she said. "The pot's still hot." Anita stopped. "You're the plague doctor. From the border towns." "Dr. Payne." She set the pot on the step. "You have a sick animal." Ben looked at the pup on Justin's rope, the one from yesterday's clearing. Its ribs pushed harder against the fur now. Its eyes had gone glassy. "It was fine an hour ago," Justin said. "It wasn't." Dr. Payne came down one step. "It has what the road has. I've called it beaten three times in one man. He's dead now." "Can you fix it," Ben said. "No. I can end it clean, or you can carry it until it ends dirty." She looked at the barking animal on the other rope. "That one's next. Close quarters, shared water. A day, maybe two." Ben felt the two boxes press against his ribs. The barking animal was their cover. Without it, every step north was a hum the creature could hear. "Do it," he said. "Both." Justin opened his mouth and shut it. Dr. Payne took the ropes. She led both animals behind the stone hut. Ben heard nothing for a long minute. Then she came back with the ropes coiled and empty. "Burn your gloves," she said. "Wash in running water before you touch the boxes again." They walked north in a silence Ben had not carried before. No barking. No cover. Every footstep on the pine mat sounded like a bell. Somewhere behind them, something that tracked hum and scent lifted its head and turned. Ben kept walking. Two boxes. One relic to find. And nothing left between them and the thing on their trail.