by Matt Snee
“Really?” Captain was glad. That meant that there was time still, time between himself and her, possibly meaning, something, something of some sort. Don't get ahead of yourself, he told himself. She lives in India for God's sake. Nevertheless, he was struck by a flash of wonderment as he considered what it would be like to touch her skin, or to feel a wisp of her hair. “I could show you around the town, if you like. I mean tonight … or tomorrow.”
“I'd like that,” Jennifer said, sadness pulsing in her bones. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Okay,” said Captain, elated.
His mother came back out with the cream, sugar, and her own coffee. She set all of this down at the table and sat. Captain reached and poured cream into his coffee but did not stir it, letting it rise and cloud in the dark liquid, untouched. Finally he brought the cup to his lips and drank.
But something was wrong. His nose twitched. What is that? he wondered. The coffee? Does it taste bad? No. He placed the cup down on the table and took a deep breath.
It was that odor again, the one he had noticed in the morning and at the book store. Now it was stronger, high in the air, thick and putrid. He turned to his mother, wondering if she could smell it. He almost asked but hesitated, not wanting anything to ruin this moment.
Jennifer, nose filled with cigarette smoke, seemed to smell nothing.
There was a rustling in the trees at the back of their property where a forest lay, and Captain imagined a rabbit or bird jumping about. The odor got worse. He brushed at his nose and shook his head.
“What is it, darling?” his mother asked him. Jennifer looked up at him as well.
“I don't know,” he told them. “There's this smell…”
“A smell?” his mother repeated.
“A smell?” Jennifer asked. She turned to the back of the property, throwing her cigarette down to the ground and reaching for her backpack.
The bushes continued to move, something stirring in them, and Captain tilted his head and watched, half-expecting something to jump out.
Something did.
A figure of some sort, human. At first just shadows despite the bright sun, and then details began to form upon it, and to his horror, he recognized who it was.
His father. His dead father.
4. The Cardboard Spaceship
Fortresses of fear must be laid siege to.
Alexander Trotman, “Dread Squad” issue 178
Somehow, Lewis Senior had come back to life, and he now stood in their backyard, grinning. He had been dead for years, but seemed as fresh as anyone else, dressed in his usual jeans and flannel shirt, brown boots on his feet, his curled hair combed back, and his skin pink.
Even Jennifer was caught off guard. She knew of the monster, but she didn't recognize Captain's father, and did not know this person standing there was supposed to be dead. This way, the monster got the jump on them. She was aware of its powers, but she had not considered their totality.
“Dad?” asked Captain.
“Lewis?” breathed his mother.
They were both aghast. The figure did not speak, just shuffled towards them. And then Jennifer realized what was happening, and even though she had been told what would happen, she was still too late.
Captain's mother stood and ran toward the figure, brushing her hair out of her eyes, barefoot, an impossible hope like lightning in her skin.
“No!” Jennifer cried. She reached into her bag.
“Dad?” Captain asked again.
When she was close enough, his dad reached out and clutched Captain's mother by the neck. A laughter rose into the air, but one that seemed to emanate from nowhere.
“Mom!” Captain shouted, getting up. Jennifer tugged at his arm, pulling him back. He looked over to her and saw she was now holding some sort of strange gun, which she pointed at the creature.
“Stop!” Jennifer commanded. She pulled the trigger of the laser gun and a hot pink shaft of light shot out of it, striking Lewis Senior in the chest. What would have lit a normal human to flame had no effect here however. Instead, the monster shivered, groaned, and changed into its true form.
First it grew from six feet tall to twelve, doubling in size and girth. Its skin turned green, its clothes became leafy, and its arms became long and clawed. It no longer carried Lewis Darby's face, but instead brandished a crazed plant-like visage with yellow bulbs for eyes and a gaping hole for a mouth.
Still it held Captain's mother in its grip and lifted her up into the air by her neck. She gasped loudly, and then the monster visibly squeezed with might. Captain's mother convulsed and then went limp.
The monster threw Athra Darby to the ground at Captain's feet.
“Mom!” he screamed, falling to her side as Jennifer pulled again on the trigger of her laser gun, pushing the abomination back, but otherwise doing nothing but harmlessly tickling it.
Captain took his mother into his arms and cupped her face with one hand. Blood trickled out of her nose. Still, she opened her eyes and looked at him.
“Lewis…” she wheezed.
“Mom!” He clutched her tightly.
Her eyes were glassy. “You need to trust her now. I've done all I could do.”
“Don't speak,” he told her, afraid to look up at the monster again, hoping it was all a terrible dream. “You'll be okay, I'll call an ambulance …”
“No,” Athra said. “You must go. I can't stay. And neither can you.”
“Are you hurt?” he asked her. No doubt she was. Her skin was pale and her breath was labored.
“Go!” she managed to say with all of her will. “I know the stars await you now, like you always waited for them. Go …”
And she died.
Everything is oblation.
* * *
“No!” Captain whispered. He held his mother tighter. Looking up, he saw the monster taking slow steps toward them, laughing with its insane voice which seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
Jennifer shot the creature once more, but knew it had no effect. It would take more than she had to kill such a thing, if such a thing could be killed. She looked down at Captain and did not envy him. Worse, it reminded her of her own parents' deaths.
We're in this together now. Together and alone, she thought.
* * *
“Come!” Jennifer grabbed his hand and pulled, lifting him from the ground with astonishing strength. They fell back, the two of them, as the monster stepped forward. The body of his mother slipped from Captain's arms.
Jennifer pulled him up the stairs into the house, where the radio still played music softly and the usually peaceful light of the kitchen took on a new, terrible glow.
“What?” Captain heard himself saying, completely confused, in shock over what his eyes told him and his heart knew. His mother …was she dead? That thing …how could they stop it? Where could such a monster come from?
* * *
“It's okay,” Jennifer told him, hoping to convince herself as well. With the laser gun in her hand, she pulled him further, beads of sweat glistening on her temples. She watched as the monster slowly, uncertainly, walked toward the house, leaving Captain's mother where she was. The afternoon light poured across its foul form like unholy water. There was no time; it was slow, but it would catch up. Space was different for this creature, this she knew. She knew that they were in terrible danger and if they didn't get out of there quick, they, too, would be dead.
It was exactly like she had been told it would be, but that didn't make it any easier. Nowfor the real trick …
“Go!” she yelled at Captain, pushing him toward the cellar stairs. He was resistant. Some part of him still wanted to stand and fight, but she knew that was impossible. If the laser gun didn't hurt it, what could?
Jennifer looked out the back window and saw the monster taking its long steps toward the house. She raised her laser again and blasted it, hoping that would slow it down. The monster flinched, stopped, and then started again.
>
“What is it?” Captain asked her.
“It's a Fangler!” she answered, using the ancient name.
“Who the hell are you?” he yelled.
“It's okay,” she said. “I'm a friend.”
* * *
With that she tossed open the cellar door and shoved him towards the stairs. He resisted a moment, but instinct—plus his mother—said he could trust Jennifer, and so he descended, his feet thundering against the old, wooden planks into the dark basement. She followed, taking one last look at the Fangler as it reached the door to the kitchen.
Down in the basement it was dark with gray light coming in through the cloudy windows. It almost seemed calm down there, with the dust and old crates, the pile of laundry and Captain's father's tools. There was an old broken TV, his mother's bicycle (also in disrepair), an old refrigerator, and stacks of Captain's books: ones he had written and those written by others.
“What are we doing?” Captain asked Jennifer. “We can't hide down here! There's no escape! We have to stand and fight!”
“We can't fight it!” she shouted back. “We're going to get out, just trust me. Now …give me your arm!”
“What?”
“Your arm! Give it to me!” She reached and took his arm, sticking her laser gun into her pants. Then she reached into her bag and pulled out a glowing syringe.
“What is that?” Captain asked, too astounded to even feel afraid.
“This is going to feel a little funny,” Jennifer told him, jabbing him in the arm with it. She injected him with the serum.
“Ow!” he said, pulling back and rubbing the wound. Then he sighed. The basement spun around him and it seemed as though all the molecules in the air were hardening. “What was in that!?”
“That's Owltech! It will boost your psionic power! Now take this!” Swearing silently, Jennifer pulled her necklace off and placed it over his head. It shined gloriously, supernaturally.
“What is this?” he asked her, taking the necklace into his hand, seemingly hypnotized.
“Leave it!” she commanded. “It's a ranaadamtrix. A wish jewel. It's the only way off this planet.”
“A randomwhatix? But … how?”
Then an acrid stench crowded the air, and they both turned to see that the Fangler had just taken its first step into the basement, awkwardly bending itself so it would fit through the door. The wooden stairs creaked beneath its powerful legs.
Jennifer pointed at Captain's cardboard box, the one he pretended was a space ship—in his weaker moments. “With that!” she exclaimed.
* * *
To understand Captain's box, and the power it contained, you have to understand the awesome power of his imagination—the blessing of it, the curse of it, the wealth of dreams, the dearth of rationality. Since he had been a child, he had been lured into the awesome depths of fancy, and he had forged and tempered the false worlds around him like one would a suit of armor. Sadness had been the world's gift to him; he fought it with his imagination. His heart had spread, his mind had bent, and new things were born.
The world he had was not enough. He had dreamed further. The skies of his mind had opened, and plump worlds and stars had emerged—new worlds that he had fashioned and then translated into ink and paper. But it had never been enough. There was always something missing: the true touch of reality. These were only myths of strange civilizations, of wild adventure, of beguiling but caring women, of a father's love.
In a way, he had never grown up. Instead, his mind had created a stream of alternate realities where he could be free, a new place between present and future, a good place—beyond. The constructions in his mind had been safer than reality, less sharp, less prone to bite and betray. And like that …
They had grown to incredible power.
* * *
Jennifer would explain to him later that the psychic residue of his play in the box had collected and fermented into something strong, something they could use. Yes, she had known about the box ahead of time—it was something that they had gotten right—and it was their only way out. God's creations could be treacherous, but providence, when it became visible, had to be harnessed. Jennifer had known it would be possible because nothing else would be. In a universe made of rooms and doors, this exit's key had been found.
“Get in the box!” she shouted at him.
“Why?!?”
“Just do it!”
* * *
He was feeling strange, above and beyond the dreamlike quality of everything that was happening, which he guessed was because of the injection she had given him. The Fangler seemed suddenly inconsequential, and all things lay spread before him in sparkling possibility. So he did what she said, stepping into the box, and grabbed its edges with his hands. He could feel almost every atom of the cardboard. He could feel its thin, square form and the concrete sitting under it. A terrible power ached beneath his fingertips.
“Don't lose focus!” Jennifer told him as she stepped into the box herself. “You're the fuel! I need you to do this!”
“Do what?”
The Fangler was halfway down the stairs now. It groaned, still bending its long form to make it under the low ceiling. Jennifer turned and looked at it for a second and bit her lip.
“Just believe!” She turned back to Captain. “Just play!” She pulled her laser gun out of her pants, adjusted its settings, and aimed at the wall opposite the Fangler. “Now get down and cover your eyes! And get ready to fly!”
Captain did as he was told, kneeling down on the ground like he had a hundred times before while in the box. Jennifer pulled the trigger on her laser gun and a fat beam of pink light roared out of it, flashing across the basement with a loud, whistling hiss. The wall she aimed at exploded into a mess with a boom, debris splashing every which way. When the smoke cleared, a huge hole big enough for them to escape stood in the wall.
“Now!” Jennifer shouted, pushing at his side with her free hand. “Fly!”
Captain nodded, not believing a word of it. But as soon as he even considered the possibility, he could feel the box lifting off the ground, with them in it, floating an inch into the air. “My God,” he said to himself.
“Go!” Jennifer turned and fired a last shot at the Fangler, who was merely ten feet behind them.
“Okay!” Captain breathed.
The box hovered for a moment then took off, carrying them through the basement and out the hole in the wall, to the outside, where the last remnants of the sun glowed and the birds still fluttered in the trees. Captain didn't so much pilot the box as he just imagined where he wanted it to go, thinking beforehand where he wanted to be, and then the next second they would be gliding on their way.
Once they were out of the house, they flew over the neighbor's backyard, and Jennifer tugged his sleeve and pointed up. He imagined going up. The box raised higher, above the tree line, away from his house, away from the monster, away from his dead mother and everything he had ever known.
* * *
“Where are we going?” Captain asked Jennifer.
“Up.”
He looked down at the ground below them, which was farther away each second they climbed into the air. Vertigo scratched at his nerves, but true fear had left him. He realized they were safe now, or at least safer than they had been. They were out of the monster's reach, and they were—somehow—flying through the air in a cardboard box.
“What's happening to me?” Captain asked her. “What's going on? I …it's too much!”
She smiled, empathizing. “I'm sorry, Lewis. I really am. I didn't want to do this to you. I had no choice.”
“Who are you?”
“I don't think you will understand yet. We're still under the Shadows' psychic block. I barely believe it myself now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I'm sorry,” Jennifer told him. “It's not physically possible for you to understand, not while we're still in the lower atmosphere. But I promise ever
ything will make sense soon.”
“My mother…” he said to himself.
“It's okay,” Jennifer whispered. “There's nothing we could have done. It was fate.”
Captain had never believed in fate. “No,” he told her. “I don't believe it.”
“Believe it,” she said, sighing. “I am truly sorry. If there had been another way, I would have found it.”
“Another way to what?”
“To escape Earth. With you. Alive.”
He paused, and his science fiction expertise clicked on. “Are you an alien?” It was crazy, but also the only thing that made sense.
“No, no,” she answered. “I'm like you. Human. But I'm not from Earth. Not by a long shot…”
“But how?” he asked.
“Shhh.” Jennifer touched his hand, but he drew back, not trusting her. She frowned. “Just give it a few minutes,” she said. “I promise.”
Captain was aghast. What did a promise mean from this strange woman? What was happening to him? “This must be a dream.”
“It's no dream,” she told him.
“It's a nightmare,” he continued.
She was silent.
The box rose up into the sky. Wind burst upon them, and they reached the lower clouds. The ground disappeared from below them as they entered the mists. Jennifer pulled out her cigarettes and lit one, exhaling smoke loudly and wiping her brow. Then she reached into her bag, pulled out a folded paper, and handed it to Captain. “Here,” she said. “You can probably almost understand this now. We're high enough.”
Captain unfolded the paper. It was a pamphlet, in English and French:
If You Find Yourself in Space
(Si vous vous trouvez dans l'espace), Condensed Edition
1. Don't panic.
2. But remember, everything is out to get you.
3. You've been under a psychic block your whole life.
4. This was engineered by the Shadows, the true rulers of Earth.
5. They are evil.
6. You are in incredible danger.