And Soon Comes the Darkness

by Angelique Archer

  Best keep moving, buddy.

  Roger pulled out his cell phone. Maybe he would have reception here? He pushed a few buttons, but his reflection on the dark iPhone screen was the only thing that stared back at him.

  It wouldn’t have mattered if he was right next to a cell phone tower at the top of a mountain; the bitter cold had drained the phone’s battery.

  A light bulb went off in his head. Surely the owner of the bar would have a phone inside that actually worked. He could kill two birds with one stone, he thought to himself with a satisfied smile on his face.

  Roger walked across the street, making sure to look both ways as he always did in the big city, then shook his head when he remembered this place was starkly different from the hustle and bustle to which he was accustomed.

  The wind kicked up a bit, sending snow and ice swirling about him, and he broke into a brisk jog all the way to the tavern.

  A big wreath adorned with holly and a giant red and green plaid bow hung on the door. A full-sized plastic Santa stood outside the entrance, a rosy smile and permanent wave frozen into its design.

  Roger chuckled at Cherryton’s eccentrics.

  He reached for the handle and pulled. The door didn’t budge. He pulled again, the grin on his face scarcely fading. Then he tried the door on the other side, pulling it harder. The glass doors clattered against each other, but still did not give way.

  Roger’s face fell slightly, and he put his hands against the glass and peered in. All of the lights were on inside, everything festively decorated, clean mugs and glasses stacked and ready for use on the bar.

  “Hello?” he called out. He knocked against the glass, loudly, but not forcefully enough to break the door. “Hello!” he repeated, this time the frustration unmistakable in his voice.

  Roger stepped back and turned around. He would try a CVS instead, maybe pick up some snacks and beverages to bring back to Evangeline.

  He started off in the opposite direction from which he’d come, looking left and right.

  The snow was falling very quickly now. The road was covered in it, no tire tracks visible. Someone had to be plowing the streets soon. Roger internally chastised the town for not sending out a snow plow immediately.

  And then it hit him all at once, like an anvil falling onto him from the heavens. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to prickle and then stand up.

  He had already been in the town for fifteen minutes.

  Fifteen damned minutes.

  And yet this entire time, he had yet to run into another living, breathing human being.

  There wasn’t even a single car parked on the sides of the road.

  The town was alive in every sense of the word, lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve, but in reality, it was deader than a New Orleans cemetery.

  Roger shuddered, but not from the cold, and in spite of every instinct within him telling him not to go, he gathered himself together and went deeper into Cherryton. He was desperate, needing to see someone. Even a stranger’s face would have seemed oddly familiar and comforting.

  He just needed to know he wasn’t alone.

  He had ventured past the last block of the town center, and he spun around, a wild, anxious look in his eyes.

  This was crazy. Was he going mad? Was the altitude making him sick?

  Cherryton suddenly seemed like the most desolate place in the world, a ghost town long forgotten.

  Then he saw it, the brief and sudden flickering of light further ahead, past the dark pines, into the forest.

  Roger followed that light, his soggy socks and shoes ill-fitted for the weather, causing him to stumble like a drunkard.

  He looked down, ridiculously frustrated with his feet, and noticed that there were footsteps in the snow in front of him.

  Following them with a newfound determination, Roger rushed through the trees, toward the fading light, until he finally came upon a clearing.

  Before him was a cabin, small and shabbily constructed.

  It seemed isolated and out of place, not warmly decorated like everything else. And it had an unusual door, obscenely large and disproportionate to the rest of the cabin.

  He was about to run forward to it, something beckoning him closer, but he halted when he realized he would be beyond the protective covering of the thick pines.

  Candlelight emitted from the front windows, illuminating two figures rushing hurriedly about, their footsteps audible even from where he stood.

  Roger studied them, his unease growing with each passing second. There was something strange about their appearance, clothed in heavy black robes, their faces shrouded in the darkness of oversized hoods.

  He saw one of them lift a knife and then plunge it down into something out of view before holding up a furry, limp object and wringing it back and forth as a dark liquid drizzled down. It almost looked like a little animal, perhaps a squirrel or rabbit, but Roger couldn’t be sure.

  Moments later, the two strangers exited the cabin, each carrying metal bowls that glinted in the moonlight.

  Roger watched in nervous fascination as the two figures pulled ladles out of the bowls, then separated and started walking in opposite directions around the perimeter of the cabin.

  His eyes narrowed as they flung the ladles out to the side, chanting and mumbling something as they marched along. It was almost humorous from his vantage point, and he wanted to move out of the shadows and ask them precisely what they were doing.

  But again, that still, small voice in his head stopped him, and he didn’t know why, but he decided to trust it and remain hidden beneath the pine branches.

  After a couple minutes, the two strangers shuffled off into the forest and disappeared.

  Roger edged forward to investigate what they’d been doing and found himself on a cramped wrap-around porch. He looked into the window near the front door and waited for the moon to slither out from behind the clouds.

  A chair was at the center of the room, and rope lay on the floor beside it. Roger pressed himself closer to the glass to get a better look.

  A dark ring had been hastily painted around the chair.

  And then there was the furry object now sprawled out on the floor. It was so misshapen that he hardly recognized that it was a rabbit, a very dead one at that. Blood matted its light brown fur, and he felt sad for the animal, wondering why someone would mutilate it.

  Roger’s stomach flopped, but again, he couldn’t figure out why, and that unknown was going to be his undoing if he didn’t get some answers soon.

  Nothing added up.

  He turned around and began to walk off of the porch when he noticed a dark substance splattered against the snow. He stepped over it and backed up until he had a full view of the cabin, observing that whatever was on the snow had encircled it.

  His eyes grew wide, and he had to know.

  He reached down, his fingers shaking, and touched the dark fluid, watching it ooze between his fingers. Raising his hand toward the moonlight, he gasped.

  Crimson.

  The picture in his mind was starting to form, the puzzle pieces he had been longing to put together beginning to find their matches, and it was an ugly, nightmarish image.

  The hooded figures were preparing for something… something that required a ritual of blood to be scattered about this particular structure in a near-perfect circle.

  Something was wrong with this town, so very wrong.

  The blood.

  The cabin.

  The abandoned town.

  The flat tire.

  The flat tire.

  Roger felt his heart stop in his chest.

  Eve.

  Chapter IV

  THE TOWN IN THE MOUNTAIN

  E vangeline sipped on the Cabernet Sauvignon, swishing it around in her mouth as she stared out the window of their car.

  Roger had been gone for more than an hour, and she was starting to feel the effects of the wine, light and dizzy, warm and pleasant. S
he let the jagged edge of the foil covering of the mouth of the bottle run against the softness of her lips before tilting the bottle back one last time. Droplets of wine lingered on her bottom lip, and she pursed her lips together, savoring the flavor. Placing the bottle down on the floor near her feet, she looked around, boredom coupling with the buzz from the alcohol.

  Evangeline impatiently held up her cell phone again, as though five inches to the left or right would make any difference in the reception.

  Roger probably wouldn’t answer anyways. Maybe she could talk to their kids.

  She dialed her mother’s number and listened for the telltale ring indicating that the call had gone through. When it didn’t come, she sighed and leaned back in the seat.

  Maybe I should just open one of these while I wait, she thought as she fixated on the gifts in the back.

  Deciding to be responsible—as usual—she resisted the urge and tried turning the knob on the radio instead, but the music cut out every few seconds, garbled and choppy.

  The snow was coming down so hard. Evangeline couldn’t see anything in front of the car. The heater was running at full blast, but it was also draining precious fuel. She took the key out of the ignition, but only a handful of minutes passed before the bitter cold seeped into the vehicle.

  She rubbed her hands together, fumbling around in her purse for her mittens.

  A thump on the roof made her jump.

  She edged her way to the windshield and squinted through the fluffy white coating on the glass. It was impossible to see anything. Roger had probably parked under an evergreen, snow weighing down its boughs until they snapped, sending snow plummeting onto the Honda.

  She groaned and turned on the car once more. The last thing they needed on this trip was for a giant branch to break off and damage their vehicle. Roger would be livid if he knew she was planning to drive the car with a flat tire, but surely moving it just a couple feet out from beneath what had to be an evergreen wouldn’t hurt it.

  Sliding over to the driver’s seat, Evangeline shifted the gears. Her booted foot pressed the gas pedal, gently at first, then harder. Her brows furrowed as she heard the tires spinning uselessly.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.

  She pushed the pedal hard, but snow splattered against the rear window, and she knew that she was wasting her time.

  Evangeline buttoned her jacket, pulling the collar up to her ears, and unlocked the door. She would have to dig the tires out in order for them to get anywhere once Roger returned. Sleeping in the car if they got stuck was simply out of the question.

  Carefully stepping out onto the ground, she quickly shut the door and exhaled sharply, the cold easily biting through her warm down jacket. Crouching to inspect the rear tires, her gaze wandered from the heavy snow drifts that surrounded the vehicle.

  Something black stretched across the road, bits of it protruding from the blanket of white. She stood and moved toward the unknown object, then used the toe of her boot to dig out the rest.

  At first, Evangeline thought it was a snake, and she jumped back frightfully. When nothing moved, she went to it and prodded it once more, ready to leap away at a moment’s notice and hide within the safe confines of their car.

  But the “snake” was only a thick strip of leather.

  She frowned. There was something else.

  She nudged the leather once more and inhaled shakily.

  Spikes. Sharp metal spikes.

  Perfect for damaging tires. Intentionally.

  “Damn it, Roger, where are you?” Evangeline asked aloud, no trace of annoyance left in her tone. Only alarm. Although she had consumed an entire bottle of wine, she was sober now.

  Somehow she knew it.

  It was like a sixth sense, and her heart started thumping furiously.

  Something snapped behind her, and she whirled around, her eyes wide and terrified. In her periphery, there had been the swiftest of glimpses of dark flitting between the trees, standing out so starkly against her snow-covered wonderland.

  She knew she wasn’t alone. She could feel eyes on her.

  Evangeline turned and ran to the car, stumbling unceremoniously as she rushed back.

  She jumped into the driver’s seat and slammed her hand down on the locks, one by one, front to back, panicked.

  After that was done, she frantically began searching for something in the car to use as protection. The best thing she saw was the empty wine bottle, and even with that, she felt foolish and helpless.

  Roger had a shoebox full of tools in the trunk that he kept for emergencies. But that meant opening the door, going outside, and undoubtedly coming face to face with whomever was out there hunting her.

  Taking a deep breath, Evangeline tried to focus. Roger would be back any second. Should she just wait for him? It wasn’t like she was going anywhere with the tires stuck in the snow.

  It was getting colder and colder as total darkness began to fall across the landscape. Her jacket was warm, but she was dressed ridiculously. Heeled boots and thin leggings. She wouldn’t last long out there if she went for help.

  And help? Where would there be any help? She debated turning on the heat for warmth, but she didn’t want to waste it when she might need it later after the temperatures would become unbearable.

  Evangeline leaned across to the passenger seat and pulled on the lever to the glove box, tossing items aside and ignoring them as they rolled around the floor. There had to be something, anything, that could be used as a weapon.

  She leaned over a bit further just as the window beside her spewed forward, tiny jagged bits of glass peppering her hair.

  Evangeline turned around in time to see a hooded man reach in, only the bottom part of his face visible, gums and teeth exposed from a gap in his upper lip. He raised his arm and swung it into the open window.

  She saw something long and dark flying toward her, a baton maybe, before everything went black.

  Chapter V

  THE TOWN IN THE MOUNTAIN

  T houghts came rushing through Roger’s head.

  Who are these people?

  What the hell are they doing?

  Is Eve okay?

  Why did I leave her all alone?!

  I am such an idiot.

  He gathered himself quickly, focusing on the most important question: What do I do now?

  The answer was simple; he had to get back to Evangeline and make sure she was alright.

  Compounding snow on his shoulders sprinkled to the ground as he stood up straight and backed away from the window. He turned from the cabin and headed back toward the town at a brisk jog.

  Cresting the hill, he could see the same lights from the town, only now they emanated a different glow, a haunting one. Given the context of what he had just seen, the eerie illusion of the lights made perfect sense; all of the excitement he’d felt when he first entered the town was now gone. He had long forgotten that his feet were soaked or that his body temperature was dropping. None of that mattered because he had to get back to Evangeline.

  He’d taken a different way through Cherryton this time, crossing through what was most likely its residential area. He wanted to go knock on the doors and get help, but something kept his feet firmly planted where he stood.

  The houses were dark and barren; no one appeared to be home. He wondered if Cherryton was some sort of staged town, and people didn’t actually live here, but then he saw shovels and snow plows and bags of salt in the driveways.

  He passed by a tiny grocery store, then a church, an all-white structure with a tall steeple. It was then that he could hear a faint rumble in the distance, a misplaced sound against the almost imperceptible backdrop of snowflakes landing on the ground and the electric hum of thousands of busy Christmas lights.

  Roger moved closer toward the heart of the town to investigate the noise and changed his pace to a cautious walk.

  The rumbling continued to grow from the same direction, luring Roge
r in like prey to the light of an Anglerfish.

  Roger suddenly saw a giant silhouette slowly moving toward him in the middle of the road, and he quickly darted behind a tree. He peered around the trunk and noticed it was a truck.

  A tow truck, he thought to himself. It brought him a small measure of comfort to know that the town wasn’t completely abandoned. However, when he considered the last people he’d come across, the hooded figures scattering blood in a ritualistic manner, any comfort he had felt from the truck’s impending presence vanished.

  The truck seemed to be a newer model and except for the grill and what looked like aftermarket flood lights, was entirely white.

  Best camouflage I have seen in a while.

  “What the…” he uttered.

  He could recognize that blue Honda Accord anywhere, along with the duct-taped front bumper from when Evangeline accidentally hit the mailbox earlier that year, and he had yet to get around to fixing it.

  “Eve, you genius! I don’t know how you did it, but you got a tow!”

  The feeling of comfort at the sight of something familiar came back to Roger. He sighed in relief.

  Maybe he had been overreacting about what he had seen. Maybe people weren’t in the streets because they were visiting their families outside of Cherryton for the holidays. Maybe the hooded figures encircling the cabin in blood had been partaking in some kind of harmless mountain ritual he knew nothing about as a city slicker.

  Roger began to wave his hands in the air. “Hey! I’m here, right here!” he yelled.

  But it was to no avail; his shouting didn’t garner the attention of the truck in the slightest. No brake lights, no slowing of speed. He buried his frustration. He was far enough away from the truck that he was more than likely visually obstructed by the snow.

  The truck took a right-hand turn, away from Roger. Moving at a slow enough speed for him to follow, Roger jogged to catch up with it, figuring that he would be greeted by Evangeline in the passenger seat, and they would wave to one another and laugh about the whole episode later over dinner.

  He couldn’t wait to see her. He didn’t want to be out in the cold anymore. Suddenly more than ever, Roger wanted to be far away from this ice town. He wanted to be toasty warm under the sun, sipping strawberry daiquiris with little umbrellas while the curtains of the cabana behind them fluttered gently in the breeze coming off the ocean.