I gave the patch a prod with my index finger. It was cold, soft, and clammy and caved at my touch. A shudder ran through my body, echoed by a soft roll that seemed to travel through the ground beneath our feet. I realized then why it reminded me of the flesh of a drowned person. It was human skin.

And unlike a floater, it was alive.

23

I kicked the dirt at my feet and revealed another fleshy white patch. We were so busy trying to get to the end of the tunnel that it never dawned on us that the thing we sought was the tunnel itself. At some point we had entered it and never knew.

It was time to make a move before whatever Cain had become tried to get in our heads again. The surrounding blubbery wall gave me an idea. It was time to get drastic. I shot a look at Mo’Lock.

“Let’s fuck this thing up.”

I tried not to think about the clammy flesh surrounding us. The idea that we might be inside some gigantic monstrosity was too disgusting to consider. I pushed the thought out of my mind by retrieving the pouch from my sock. I pulled out the needle, spoon, syringe, and last, but hardly least, the packet of chunky white power.

I created a little torch out of some debris, stuck it into the dirt, and lit it. Then I put the chunk into the spoon and spit on it several times. The drugs and saliva cooked over the candle flame until they melted. I filled the needle, pushing the plunger to clear out the air bubbles. A major overdose was on the way.

Mo’Lock knelt down beside me. “Cal, are you sure you want to do this? Aren’t the pills working?”

I grinned and gave the needle a little squirt. “Who said it was for me? Let me have the heart. I’m gonna try a little voodoo magic myself . . . with a twist of smack.”

I pinned the heart to the dirt with my left hand. The muscle began beating harder, fighting me. The walls and floor began to shudder and rumble. The thing was getting jumpy.

I wasted no more time. I raised the needle in my right hand and jabbed it into the center of the heart, emptying all but a single hit of heroin into the pulsing muscle. Instantly the heart fluttered and beat hard, then settled down to a slow, steady pace.

A low moan echoed through the tunnel like a powerful generator grinding to a slow halt. The sound came from all sides, even from inside my head for a flash.

I took what was left of the smack, enough to overdose an elephant, and stabbed the fleshy patch on the wall. I didn’t know how big the thing was, so I couldn’t guess how long the drugs would last, but I definitely wanted to err on the side of safety. The bellowing moan sounded again, louder this time. When the floor rumbled violently, I left the needle dangling from the wall, grabbed the heart and Mo’Lock, and ran for the end of the tunnel.