The security guard’s footsteps echoed in the damp sub-basement. “Something tried to grab me!” The guard shouted.
Beside Cambell, a ripple in the water. An eyeball. The size of a whale’s.
It blinked slowly, like it was thinking. Then an arm reached past Cambell for the rent-a-cop. Slowly. “Love you,” the recording whispered, louder now. Echoing in the room.
“Get out! Run!” Cambell yelled at the guard. He wanted to run too, but he wasn’t going to leave Ginny. If he could find her.
The security guard laughed. “You think I’m that stupid, kid?”
But then tentacles emerged black and slick from the fetid water. Torn movie tickets stuck to them. They looked, Cambell realized, like power cables, thick ones. And the eye had been one of the big, elaborate letters from the building’s marquee.
He watched in horror as the guard was pulled under.
But then the eye closed and another hole in the wall opened, above the floodline. He heard the closing music of The Wind.
I’m coming, Ginny. Hold on.
* * *
11/1/19 5:05 pm—OKAY Cambell Hurry. It’s still dark, even though the movie’s ended.
Then he heard her yelling his name. Following the sound, Cambell ran back through the sub-basement, and beneath the Underhill Theater. He felt as if he was running through the building’s guts, until he found the auditorium again. But this one had all its chairs intact, and there was a movie showing. A real one. And there sat Ginny, in a seat that had curled neatly around her, as if keeping her warm.
She looked up at him, drowsy. “Did you get the shot,” she asked.
Cambell realized she was pointing at the drone, still perched on his shoulder. “I’m pretty sure I did.”
He pulled her from the chair, which didn’t resist, and dragged her out the far exit.
“How did you know I loved The Wind? I never mentioned that to you.”
Cambell held her tighter. He nearly carried her down the hallway, her long dress dragging behind them on the carpet. When he heard the recording begin again—love you back, love you back—he moved faster.
“And all those things you said, about wanting me to stay, about rebuilding the cinema, together,” Ginny’s voice trailed off. She looked around her as if for the first time in a while when Cambell pushed the emergency exit and they nearly fell out onto the sidewalk. They crawled beneath the chain link, onto the street. “Did you say those?”
When they emerged, it was raining, and the marquee for the Underhill was lit up bright as day, still biting into the concrete. The O for the word movie was missing. Cambell shivered. “I didn’t say those, Ginny.”
“How did that—Cambell, you’re soaking wet. And that tux!” Ginny said. She frowned and shook her head. Her voice shook. “If that wasn’t you? What happened?”
“We got out,” Cambell said. He put his hand against the building’s side. He checked the drone. It played back only a few moments of tape, the bit in the under-basement, where the eye rolled at him, the guard chasing him, the shot of Ginny on the screen, getting sucked into the building’s belly. The shot hadn’t uploaded. He erased it. “What happened is that we got out.”
In Cambell’s bag was the ring he’d wanted to use to surprise Ginny. Back in that other time, before the cinema.
Now, thinking about her expression as the chairs grabbed her, Cambell thought he’d wait a bit, to see whether she’d even want to be surprised. “I don’t know what we do from here, though, Ginny,” he finally said.
They found a diner near the theater and tried to clean up from their escape through the building. Ginny somehow emerged from the restroom with her hair tucked back into place. Her dress brushed clean of cobwebs and dust. She looked beautiful.
Cambell’s tuxedo was ruined. He couldn’t get the smell of the Cinema out of his hair.
They ordered coffee and Ginny grinned, a little shaky still. “I was going to ask you something tonight, before everything.”
Cambell held his breath.
Ginny leaned on him. “Want to go Hollywood with me and be there for the start of something amazing? It would mean leaving GTC for a while.”
Cambell thought for thirty seconds, then he was grinning too. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
“There’s a rental car around the corner,” Ginny pointed down the road. “That someone needs to take back to Portland. Then there’s a train that goes all the way to California. Want to ride together?”
“All the way to California? You bet I do.”
On their way out of town, Cambell stared at the Underhill, daring it to follow them.
He swore the letters on the marquee blinked at him as they left.
Fran Wilde’s novels and short fiction have won the Nebula, Compton Crook, and Eugie Foster awards, and have been finalists for six Nebulas, three Hugos, two Locii, a Dragon, and a World Fantasy Award. She writes for several publications, including The Washington Post, The New York Times, Asimov’s, Nature Magazine, Uncanny Magazine, Tor.com, GeekMom, and io9. Fran is Director of the Genre MFA concentration at Western Colorado University. FranWilde.net.
Additional Copyright Information
Gavin Funke's Monster Movie Marathon (Bring the Whole Family!) © 2020
by Jonathan Maberry
Flickering Dusk of the Video God © 2020 by Luciano Marano
Michael Thinks the House is Haunted © 2020
by David Gerrold
Atropos Green © 2020 by Jesse Sprague
Last Sunset Home © 2020 by C.H. Hung
Love Your Mother © 2020 by Kevin Pettway
Progress as Grown Out of Motion © 2020
by David Boop
When the Shift Hits the Fan © 2020 by Julie Frost
Hyde Park © 2020 by Shannon Fox
Make Me a Star © 2020 by Brendan Mallory
Alien Pizza © 2020 by Linda Maye Adams
Whoever Writes Monsters © 2020 by Sam Knight
Toad Man, Toad Man © 2020 by Hailey Piper
False Bay © 2020 by Rick Wilber
Z Is for Zombie © 2020 by Steve Rasnic Tem
Vinegar Syndrome © 2020 by Ben Monroe
Beer with Friends © 2020 by Charles Maclay
Motivating a Monster © 2020 by Irene Radford
Tunnel Visions © 2020 by James A. Hearn
Our Lady of Celluloid © 2020 by Ryan F. Healey
Josie's Last Straw © 2020 by Karina Fabian
Last Drive-in Movie © 2020 by B.D. Prince
Welcome to the Underhill Cinema © 2020 by Fran Wilde
About the Editor
Kevin J. Anderson is the author of more than 160 books, 56 of which have been national or international bestsellers, best known for his work in the Dune, Star Wars, and X-Files universes, as well as his original series The Saga of Seven Suns, Terra Incognita, and Spine of the Dragon. He has edited numerous anthologies, including the Blood Lite series, the Five by Five series, and the Star Wars: Tales series, which are the three best-selling science fiction anthologies of all time, He and his wife Rebecca Moesta are the publishers of WordFire Press. Anderson is the Director of the Publishing MA program in the Graduate Program in Creative Writing at Western Colorado University. This anthology was compiled by his grad students as part of their thesis work.
* * *
For more information on the Western Colorado GPCW Publishing MA program western.edu/mfa
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This book was produced as part of the Publishing MA program for Western Colorado University’s Graduate Program in Creative Writin
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Our list of other WordFire Press authors and titles is always growing. To find out more and to see our selection of titles, visit us at:
wordfirepress.com
Monsters, Movies & Mayhem Page 35