Hell Patrol

by R. D. Tarver

  He was particularly alarmed at the mention of a “Community Cleansing” that was to be held in the church parking lot over the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday break. The pastor encouraged the students to join members of the church in bringing records, tapes, and clothing deemed to possess satanic influence to be publicly destroyed.

  Between classes, Jesse noted the appearance of several posters detailing the church-sponsored call to action that had been placed throughout the school.

  He found Kara poring over one of the Community Cleansing flyers that had been stuffed into each students’ lockers.

  “You believe this shit?” she asked, handing him the flyer. “The whole town has gone batshit fucking crazy.”

  Jesse nodded as he stared blankly at the flyer.

  “Hey.” Kara’s voice lowered as she put her hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “How are you holding up, Jess?”

  He shied away from her change in tone and the obligation of making direct eye contact. Sleep had not come easy in the two days since Mal had disappeared, and he knew he must look the part.

  “Actually, I could use a favor.” Jesse pulled out Mal’s camera from his backpack. “Can you develop what’s on here?”

  Kara’s smile faded.

  “Oh Jess, whatever is going on with her, it’s not about you, I promise. Like I already told you—this is total Mal, like to a tee.” The arc of her smile lined up with the corners of the cat-eye glasses she wore. Jesse felt almost convinced by her words the more she spoke. She shooed away the camera, taking a step back. “Not to mention she would murder me if I ever touched her baby.”

  “I know we’ve already gone over it, but were you able to think of anything else she said that night that seemed out of the ordinary? Anything at all?”

  Kara shook her head sympathetically. “Like I told you, she seemed fine when she dropped me off after the show, but that can change really quickly with her. Especially lately.”

  “Look. I’m not trying to freak out, I promise.” Jesse’s voice began to falter despite himself. “It’s just getting a little hard to ignore all the fucked-up shit happening around here.”

  “It’s not the first time she’s ditched. She’ll be back. She probably just needed to blow off some steam.” Kara slammed her locker. “If that asshole was my dad, I’d have checked out a long time ago.”

  “I know—I get it. But leaving the way she did doesn’t make any sense. Not like this.” He held up the camera once more for emphasis. “You and I both know she wouldn’t leave it behind. What if something happened? Something out of her control?”

  “Jesse…”

  “Just humor me, will you? I’m losing my fucking mind, here.” He handed Kara the camera. “Maybe something on there can give us a clue.”

  Kara hesitated, then finally relented. “Okay. But just because I’m helping you get some peace of mind doesn’t mean anything bad has happened to her, all right? I’m not ready to go there yet.” She held the camera with reverence before gently tucking it into her backpack. “I have darkroom time during fourth period. Meet me in the studio during lunch.”

  “Thank you.”

  Kara tugged on his sleeve as she was about to part ways. “You need to know that she is totally into you. I’ve never seen her so happy. Like genuinely happy for the first time in, like, forever.”

  The ring of the class bell emptied the crowded hall.

  Jesse felt an incredible weight pushing him down with each step he took towards his next class. He decided under the circumstances that it was better for his sanity to skip the next two class periods. Kara ought to be done developing the film in Mal’s camera by then.

  8

  A lone security guard patrolled the edge of the school property bordering on the surrounding forest. Jesse watched from the edge of the student parking lot until the coast was clear.

  Unsure of his destination, he found himself walking through the woods towards the Old Townsite, recalling the treasure trove of private moments he and Mal had shared as they searched for an escape from the outside world.

  Everywhere, a ghost of her memory.

  When he reached the gravel drive that overlooked the mine, he stopped to pack an unopened soft pack of Camel Lights before making his way down to the Hell Hole.

  He was relieved to hear Rust and Alex’s voices as he approached. Alex was running his hands over the short bristles that lined his scalp. His long, shoulder-length hair had disappeared overnight. A stiff cardigan sweater and brown corduroy pants completed the ensemble.

  “Holy shit,” said Jesse. He tossed down his backpack as he stared at Alex in disbelief.

  “You believe this shit?” Rust threw his hands up at Jesse. “Fuckin’ square-cut here is gonna make us look like a bunch of dopes at our next show.”

  “I told you, man! There’s not going to be a next show.” Alex nervously bit his bottom lip with his large front teeth as he spoke. “My parents flipped out and threatened to kick me out of the house if I don’t straighten up.”

  Jesse felt crushed beneath the weight of his crumbling universe; it seemed hell-bent on collapsing further on top of him with each passing moment.

  “Dude, you make straight As,” Rust said.

  “I just have to put up with their shit until graduation. Then I’ll be out of here.”

  “What about the band? What are we gonna do without a guitar player, or a van? We’re supposed to hit the road with P.O.F. in like three weeks.”

  “What do you want me to do? I can’t just drop out of school like you.”

  Rust lit a cigarette and paced around the archway. “That’s a fucked-up thing to say, man.”

  “Maybe they’ll chill out when all this blows over,” Jesse said.

  “This ain’t gonna blow over, man. There’s already a half-dozen people in town that are either missing or dead, not to mention two of them used to go to our school.” Alex grimaced as the words left his mouth. He looked up at Jesse. “I’m sorry, man, I didn’t mean —”

  “It’s okay,” finished Jesse.

  The three lingered in silence for a time.

  “It’s not the first time she’s run away,” said Rust.

  “That’s what everyone keeps telling me.”

  Rust offered Jesse a nod of solidarity before turning his attention back to Alex.

  “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to hit the road with those guys.” Rust knelt directly in front of Alex and forced him to meet his eyes. “Are you gonna be able to look back when you’re on your deathbed, years from now, and be cool with the fact that you bailed on us because you were worried about what your fuckin’ parents think? You think you can live with that shit?”

  Jesse felt cast off from the shore, slowly circling in a massive whirlpool that threatened to drown all that he held dear.

  “I love playing music with you guys, but this shit is getting out of hand.” He wiped his runny nose on the sleeve of the cardigan sweater. “Besides, maybe I’ve got other shit I want to do with my life.”

  “So—what? The band is over? We’re calling it quits? You’re not even eighteen years old! What’s the rush? Don’t buy into the bullshit, man. Like Rick always says, it’s just hysteria whipped up by these Jesus freaks to bring more people into the church so they can fill their coffers.”

  “Then why are all these people missing? Why the fuck don’t we know where Mal is?” Alex asked. He stood up and threw his boombox against the iron gate. Shards from the unit’s grey plastic body splintered into the air. Alex pointed through the gate as he looked to the others. “And what the fuck happened to us down there?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” Jesse said. He grabbed his backpack and set off to make the trek back to the school.

  9

  Jesse made his way back to Macomb Springs High just before lunch. As he approached the photography lab, the red warning light above the door was turned on.

  Kara’s voice answered back as he knocked on the door.


  “Just a minute,” she said.

  Just as the door to the photo lab cracked open, he was pulled inside by his jacket collar. He heard the door lock behind him.

  “This way,” Kara’s voice called out from the dark.

  Once his eyes adjusted, he followed her to the back of the room as she guided him through the heavy plastic partitions.

  As Jesse stepped into the safe light, he could see that Kara had been hard at work. Several prints were line-drying above a row of trays filled with chemical solutions. Even in the faint red light, he could clearly make out the images from the night of Hell Patrol’s Beggar’s Banquet Hall show.

  Kara reached to stop a buzzing timer while she passed a developing print from one tray to another with a pair of tongs.

  The acrid smell of the chemicals hung heavy in Jesse’s nostrils.

  “Okay, so I just finished developing the photos from your show—which, turns out, was most of the roll.” She hesitated. “There are still a few frames left, but I couldn’t make anything out from the contact print, so I’m not holding out much hope.”

  “Thanks for doing this. I had to be sure.”

  “I’m developing the last of the prints now.” She spoke while trying to force the usual lilt in her voice. “We’ll be able to see them in just a sec.”

  They watched together as the image slowly materialized on the pristine white photographic paper.

  At first, Jesse had difficulty orienting the frame in his mind.

  “Wait a minute,” Kara said. “This looks like the inside of the mine. At least what I can remember of it. Drunkest Halloween, ever.”

  “That’s the control room,” said Jesse as he pored over the image.

  Mal had taken the time to document the room she had made up for them—the place where they were supposed to be together after the show. It meant something to her. So much so that she had taken a picture of it, to preserve the moment. Why didn’t I just leave with you? Just please be okay, and I promise I’ll never do anything that fucking stupid or selfish again.

  “That’s weird,” Kara said. “What time did you say it was when you go there?”

  “Probably around one in the morning.” Jesse shrugged. “Why?”

  “She dropped me off just after eleven p.m. I’m sure of it because my parents are Nazis about getting home an hour before curfew.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Look at the candles.”

  The candles that comprised the pentagram were recently lit, having not melted down at the time the photo was taken.

  “When I got there they were still lit—melted down at least a few inches. I remember lighting a candle off one of them so I could go look for her.”

  “So we know that she must have stayed up there for at least a little while before you showed up. It’s not like her to leave a bunch of lit candles lying around. She spends a fortune on those things.”

  “Good catch.”

  Kara left Jesse to inspect the print as she moved it from the second tray labeled stop bath to the third and final tray labeled fixer.

  “How many frames are left on the roll?”

  “Just two more. Shouldn’t take long.”

  Jesse examined the prints that were drying on the line while he waited. He felt envious of the young man that bore his likeness. The fleeting moments enjoyed by his former self stood frozen in time, mocking him from the safe harbor of the past.

  Being able to chart the passage of time made life seem so delicate. So unpredictable. He had moved to this new place with no aspirations, simply adrift on the cosmic winds that propelled him forward. And now he had everything to lose.

  Images of the past projected onto the surrounding canvas of darkness—an overflow of despair that tumbled forth from his shattered mind. The first time he saw her in the shadows of the derelict ranch house; the first kiss; the endearing, but bullshit séances that he didn’t quite buy into; the first time they made love. All the missing pieces that made the uncertainty of life tolerable, and without that anchor, the ballast that kept him on course within a churning sea of chaos, there was only shivering, cold madness.

  “Here’s another one from inside the mine,” Kara reported. She transferred the print to the sink to rinse off the chemicals.

  In the image Jesse could make out the mine cart in the foreground and the portion of the rail cart track beyond that led deeper towards the descending vertical shaft.

  “Looks like she was using the flash on this one,” she said as she positioned the safe light a little closer.

  In the upper half of the frame Jesse could make out little pinpoints of light that stood out against the surrounding darkness.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “I dunno. Could be some kind of overexposure caused by the flash, or a lens flare,” Kara said. She fished out the print once it was processed, shook it dry, and handed it to Jesse.

  He rotated the image, desperate to make sense of the anomaly. Once fully inverted, the image revealed three distinct shapes that emerged from the visual noise of the dimly lit photograph.

  As his mind ordered the information, Jesse could see that the pinpoints of light were actually several pairs of eyes reflecting back the camera flash like the eyeshine of a cat, or a skunk, or some other nocturnal creature caught in the headlights during a nighttime drive.

  “Stray dog, my ass.”

  “What is it?”

  “You tell me.” He held the photo up to the safe light, pointing out the distinct outlines of three impish, simian-looking creatures, climbing upside down on the tunnel ceiling above the rail cart track.

  “Oh my God.”

  “Quick. What’s on the last frame?”

  Kara set up the enlarger for another print. After a brief exposure of light through the mounted negative, she placed another piece of photo paper into the first tray and began developing the last image Mal had taken with her camera.

  Again they watched with bated breath as an image began to form from the layer of emulsion that lined the paper as it soaked in the tray.

  Kara huddled over the image as she ran it through the succession of chemicals and water bath.

  “I can’t see shit,” she said, holding the image up to the red safe light. “Let’s take a look at this one under the glass.” She turned on a nearby light box and ran a magnifying loupe over the image.

  “Something did happen to us down there,” Jesse said as he paced back and forth. “I fucking knew it.”

  Kara furrowed her brow as she examined the image. “Oh Jesus Christ, Jesse,” she muttered, visibly shaken. She pushed away the loupe as though it burned her skin, and turned to Jesse with a look of disbelief.

  Jesse jumped to take her place, scrambling to line up the loupe on top of the photograph.

  From the dark abyss, a discernible shape had materialized within the void of the mine shaft. An almost imperceptible shadow exhibited the grotesque profile of a great horned beast that emerged from the surrounding darkness. The light from the flash reflected off the tip of what appeared to be an ornate crown that rested atop the figure’s skull.

  “What the fuck do we do?” sobbed Kara.

  He gathered up the photographs and put them in his backpack. Before leaving the darkroom, he placed both hands on Kara’s shoulders and looked her dead in the eyes. “You can’t tell anyone about this,” he pleaded. “Not until you hear back from me, okay?”

  Kara nodded, dazedly. “Where are you going?”

  Jesse turned on his heels as he passed through the doorway. “I’m late for an appointment with my guidance counselor.”

  10

  Jesse left the darkroom and waded into the bustling corridor that had filled with students returning from lunch hour.

  “Mr. Lynn.” Principal Anderson’s voice stopped him in his tracks. “I think it’s about time we had a little chat.”

  He turned to see the principal flanked by two police officers. He recognized Officer Jenkins and Offi
cer Warren from the night he took a shell of birdshot from Frank’s shotgun.

  A throng of onlookers had gathered to watch as Jesse was escorted to the principal’s office. The procession cut through the crowded hall amid a wash of whispers and slack-jawed stares.

  As Jesse entered the school’s administrative suite, Grace Johnson stood from her seat behind the front counter and made the sign of the cross as he passed.

  Principal Anderson ushered the escort into her office and closed the door behind them. Officer Jenkins stood with his back against the door; Officer Warren hovered over Jesse as he took a seat in front of Principal Anderson’s desk.