by Stephen Laws
“We can’t stay on the roof,” coughed Barbara, still winded from Jimmy’s rugby tackle. “It’s too dangerous. Just by moving around, we’re drawing it to us. I can sense it.” She sat upright at last, pulling a hand through her tousled hair. Jimmy suddenly felt her stiffen.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Something else . . .” she said in a small voice. “Something else is happening.”
Cardiff and Jimmy scanned the rooftop, looking back to the Exit door, expecting to see it broken down or smashed open and the horde of monstrosities pouring out over the roof towards them. But the door was still holding, the aerial quivering in its hasp like the antennae of some strange insect.
“There,” said Barbara quietly, and pointed to the ragged aperture where the Darkfall bolt had hit. Another section of steel-ribbed concrete fell inwards under its own weight, and they heard its crashing disintegration as it fell into the office-block interior. But something else was happening over there.
Blue light was flickering, wisping and dancing along the rim of that aperture, like sparks of dying neon. Threads of that neon were now quickly racing along the rim of the office block, along the contours and outline of the aerial-mast structures on the roof; a will-o’-the-wisp electric blue identical to the power which was surging over their heads. Power from the Darkfall bolt had been poured into the building again, and the residue of that power was sparking and dancing across the roof now in a gridwork pattern of blue force. The neon sputtered and flashed and dashed fizzling around the outline of the Exit door. Within, something squealed and the pounding on the door stopped.
The power skittered and danced around them, but did not touch them. And now it seemed that the power of that explosion had done something to the raging, flashing walls of force all around the office block. The blue electricity force along the rim of the office block was sending small, wavering bursts like miniature thunderbolts, back into the walls of force from which it had come. Mad spiderwebs of blue leapt back greedily into heretofore invisible blue veins in the air, which seemed to have been marbled into the very essence of the force barrier. The power of the Darkfall was pulsing and throbbing in those blue-white skeins; varicose fractures of power pulsing and swelling all around them. And now they could see that the roof of the office block was surging with that residual power. The building itself seemed to have acquired veins and arteries in a criss-cross network clearly visible in the fabric of the building. There was no heat from that throbbing, pulsating power despite the brilliance of the Darkfall energy.
But now the things behind the exit door were active again. The rooftop door juddered once more and this time something on the other side screamed in rage and frustration and began to tear strips of wood from the door with mutated talons and teeth. It was a bestial, terrifying sound; a bellow of insane rage. Jimmy turned away from the door and the pulsating throbbing blue on all sides.
Barbara was gone.
Jimmy jumped to his feet.
She was walking towards the ragged gap in the roof where the bolt had hit. Her shadow spread gigantically behind her and for an instant, it seemed that huge, black wings had sprouted from her shoulders. But it was only shadow writhing in that blue light, and now Jimmy was shouting . . .
“No!”
. . . and running towards her, when he saw that she had raised one hand and was reaching forwards in wonder to touch a sizzling blue line of power as it danced and pulsed on the rim of the aperture like a fallen power cable.
“Barbara!” shouted Jimmy. “Don’t touch it!”
“I can feel it, Jimmy.” She turned her head to look back at him, but her hand was still reaching for that power line. “I’ve been lost in there somehow. Joyriding with my brother. But it let me go. Maybe I can find out something to help us. Maybe I can . . .”
“Don’t touch it!”
Barbara touched the spluttering blue neon.
“No, Barbara!”
Thunder crashed in the sky as Barbara was enveloped in a brilliant white light. Her hair flew around her head and shoulders as if in a raging wind. The jade pendant around her neck danced wildly, glittering like a piece of frozen fire on a chain. She seized that pendant with her free hand as Jimmy staggered backwards, shielding his eyes from the brilliance of the glowing power which surrounded her. Her face was incredibly beautiful.
“It doesn’t want me,” said Barbara in a voice that echoed as if she was standing in the middle of some huge cathedral, not on an office block under this raging Hell Storm. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t want me.”
“Of course it doesn’t want you!” shouted Rohmer, staggering towards her. “It’s rejected you before, why should it want you now?”
Jimmy seized Rohmer by the lapels.
“What the hell do you mean? What do you know, Rohmer? WHAT?”
Rohmer laughed, not resisting Jimmy’s grip, even though he stood taller than him. “I tried to tell Gilbert that the Darkfall is spiritual in essence, not physical. But the stupid fool wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t . . .”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jimmy shook him by the lapels.
“Look,” said Rohmer. “Look at her . . .”
Cardiff was beside them both now, and they turned to look at her, Jimmy still retaining his grip. Barbara was still in the centre of that glowing light, her eyes screwed shut as if concentrating hard.
“She’s trying to help you. But it won’t matter. She was rejected once, untouched by the Truth. And you’re both going to die soon.”
Jimmy shook Rohmer again, smelling the nauseating stench of burnt flesh.
“Black Alchemy, not Science!” shouted Rohmer, snatching himself out of Jimmy’s grip. “Can’t you see what she’s wearing? The jade pendant?” Rohmer spread his hands wide as if the answer was obvious, then laughed at their stupidity. “Jade! JADE! Don’t you know anything? Jade was the stone the mystics wore to protect them from electricity and the force that is contained within it. Don’t you see? She was Absorbed and Returned, just like her brother. But the jade protected her from the Effect.”
“You mean she’s . . . normal?” asked Jimmy, turning back to her with a strange expression on his face.
“Normal?” laughed Rohmer. “Just what do you consider to be normal? What do you consider . . . ?”
Barbara’s eyes flew open.
“I can see, Jimmy!” she shouted. “I can see!”
She spread her hands wide as thunder racked the skies again. A fizzling blue crepitation of electricity was dancing around the edges of the glow that surrounded her.
“Down not Up! Down not Up! Down not . .
The glowing aura expanded, the light now suddenly too brilliant for the eye. Jimmy, Cardiff and Rohmer covered their faces as it reached its supernaturally brilliant peak, the very air alive and crackling with its power. Thunder crashed overhead again in the swirling chaos of the Darkfall storm.
And now the light was gone, and Jimmy looked back through blurred vision to see Barbara suddenly slump over into collapse. He ran to her as the rooftop juddered beneath them again.
Don’t be dead, Barbara. Please don’t be dead . . .
He held her close, turning her face to him.
She opened her eyes.
“Thank God . . .” said Jimmy.
Her eyes reflected the roiling, sparkling blue of the ice/firestorm thundering in the sky above them. They were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. She turned those eyes to him. And somehow there was another aura around them both now; a shimmering blue aura. Jimmy looked around him in wonder. They were glowing . . . and when he looked back across the rooftop he could see that Cardiff was also somehow surrounded by his own shimmering blue aura, like St Elmo’s fire. He was looking at his hands and then around him, with a mixture of disbelief, concern and awe on his face.
Rohmer too had been affected. But his aura was different. He was swathed in a red glow of light . . . and something about the difference of that light revolte
d Jimmy.
He turned back to Barbara. She was smiling at him now and he felt as if his heart was going to burst. He wanted to say something to her, anything that could express the way he was feeling about her now . . . but her expression showed him that no words were necessary. No response was required. The great blue aura bound them together.
But the sound of a juddering crack was somehow cutting through their heightened emotions; an ugly, immediate and threatening sound that went against everything that had just been shown them. It had come from the rooftop Exit door. Even as they looked, something had smashed a hole through the woodwork of that door . . . and a black, squirming, taloned arm was tearing feverishly at the splintered aperture, trying to make it larger. Another sharp cracking of splintering wood, and a jagged shard was pulled inwards. Now, that hideous black arm was scrabbling through the widened hole—reaching for the quivering aerial mast which had been jammed into the hasp. And they were aware now of the shuddering office block beneath them, collapsing piece by piece beneath the savagery of the Darkfall.
They watched as Cardiff, glowing blue, clambered to his feet, moving backwards in their direction. Rohmer was still standing, arms apart, glowing red, and staring at the sky.
The sight of that scrabbling arm was quickly dispelling the overwhelming surge of emotions they were experiencing as Cardiff joined them.
“There must be something . . . something!” said Jimmy, looking around for some kind of way out, knowing that it was hopeless in any event. That hideous horde of monstrosities would be bursting through the door at any moment. Nothing could save them. Cardiff checked his gun again, hoping somehow that there would be more shells in there than before. There were not. Jimmy helped Barbara to stand. She was trying to speak, trying to tell him something; but unable to find her voice yet as he pulled her with him towards the others.
They backed off—watching the rapidly disintegrating Exit door.
They had reached the edge of the building, only a foot-high mini-parapet between them and the swirling black-blue chaos of the shimmering Darkfall. Jimmy looked over the edge . . . and could see no bottom. It was as if the office block vanished forever downwards into its surrounding ice-storm.
The gnarled claw of whatever lay beyond the door had found the aerial and was yanking it free. Cardiff followed Jimmy’s gaze into the bottomless chasm. Then they were exchanging glances—and both knew what the only options available to them would be.
There were two.
They would rather jump into that Darkfall nothingness than stay on the roof and be torn apart by the monstrosities behind the door. Or Cardiff could use the shells in that gun for another purpose.
“Down . . .” Barbara struggled to speak. “Down . . . not Up . . .”
“Rohmer!” exclaimed Jimmy. And the other two looked quickly around to see that Rohmer, his shimmering red aura now subdued and somehow mottled, was walking towards the door. “Rohmer! What the hell are you . . . ?”
“I know what I’m doing.” Rohmer’s voice echoed back to them across the roof as he strode purposefully to the door. He grabbed the aerial from the grasp of the thing on the other side . . . and began to wrest it free, not only from the thing’s grasp but also—deliberately—out of the hasp itself.
“You bloody fool!” Cardiff started forward. But was brought to a halt when Rohmer yanked the aerial clear and the Exit door flew open with a crash.
Something large, black and contorted, yet still somehow indeterminable, collapsed out of the doorway and on to the rooftop at Rohmer’s feet. Its immense and gnarled arm was still fastened in the shattered door. Cardiff saw the thing’s eyes; yellow and feral; saw a glimpse of ragged teeth. And behind it, a jumbled mass of contorted and heaving bodies—even now ready to burst out on to the roof in a hideous mutated nightmare. But in that instant, Rohmer had stepped forward into the doorway; his mottled-red aura filling the doorframe and blotting out from their vision the nightmare shapes beyond. And the screaming, howling, gibbering things were now somehow quietened as Rohmer took another step forward, over the thing that was lying at his feet. The effect was instantaneous. The thing beneath him jerked hissing away back into the doorway, dragging its gnarled arm clear of the shattered door and away, as if in alarm or pain. Beyond the red haze in which Rohmer was now so clearly silhouetted, the invisible things beyond the haze were retreating from Rohmer and his strange aura.
“What’s happening, Cardiff?” asked Jimmy.
“I don’t . . . don’t know. Yes . . . yes, dammit. They’re afraid of him.”
“No, it won’t last. It can’t last. They can sense its Darkfall power, but it’s wearing off. They’ll tear him to pieces.” Even as Jimmy spoke, their own blue aura faded to nothingness.
Rohmer was back in the stairwell now, beyond the Exit door. His red aura was fading as he moved slowly and purposefully within. They saw the aura begin to diminish as Rohmer reached the first flight of stairs inside and began to descend, the hideous shapes still retreating before him. They could see his hand on the rail and now they could hear that Rohmer was talking to them, although they could not hear the words above the juddering and roaring of the disintegrating staircases. The red aura vanished. Rohmer had moved down out of sight . . . and the stairwell was filled once more with the mad fluttering light and shadow from the reflected Darkfall.
“What’s he doing? What’s he saying?” said Jimmy.
“Never mind why or how,” replied Cardiff. “Let’s just get back to that door and fix it so they can’t come back.”
“And then what? We can’t stay up here forever. They’ll get through that door eventually after they’ve killed Rohmer. There’s no way we can stop them . . .” Jimmy’s last words had fallen on deaf ears. Cardiff was running back to the Exit door. They followed. Barbara was still trying to speak, but she was too weak.
Jimmy stepped aside and retrieved the bent aerial, holding it like a spear. It was a small comfort to have this as his only weapon, but it was a comfort none the less. Cardiff kicked the door wide open, holding his gun in front of him just in case there was something still inside there. But apart from the leaping contorted shadows, the doorwell at the top of the stairs was empty. Jimmy and Barbara joined him, just as Cardiff stepped into that stairwell and uttered a curse of revulsion. The floor was slick with a viscous slime; no doubt from the things that had attacked them. Beyond the stairwell, they could see below, the faint red tinge of Rohmer’s aura again. He was somewhere below them on the shuddering stairs and now they could hear his words as he descended, echoing back up the stairs to them, even above the sounds of destruction and the hideous slithering and rustling sounds of the things that still continued to retreat down the stairs from him.
“lt’s alright . . . alright . . . I’ve come . . . I’m here . . .”
“What on earth is he doing?” said Cardiff. He crept stealthily to the banister rail. Jimmy followed, still holding the aerial haft like a weapon. Down below, as the aura faded, they could make out shadows on the walls below; hideous, undulating shadows.
“I’ll take you back . . .” continued Rohmer. “. . . I’ve seen what’s there . . . I know where you’ve come from . . . I know what’s happened . . . I know your pain . . .”
Cardiff reached the rail and looked over and down. Concrete dust was swirling and billowing in the throat of the staircase shaft. Something exploded far below.
Rohmer was three flights below, standing on the stairs with his hands held out like some strange preacher delivering a sermon in Hades. His aura was flickering and fading. Soon it would be gone. And now Cardiff could see the monstrous forms which filled the staircase below Rohmer.
“My God . . .”
The shapes on the stairs were truly from some monstrous nightmare; so much so that Cardiff’s mind rejected the images that were trying to register there. If the thing that had been Barbara’s brother was from Hell, then this horde must surely come from some even lower substrata of Hades. Only impressions were r
egistering with Cardiff, as if too long a contemplation of what lay down there would send him mad.
Black and grey.
Tentacled and taloned.
Eyes and teeth.
Somewhere amidst that horde was another man in a business suit, somewhat akin to the thing that had been clinging to Barbara’s brother when the monstrosities had fallen into the staircase shaft. Standing, still and silent, like Best Man at some Hideous Wedding . . . except that this man had no face. No face at all, just a circular cavity in the front of his head, where the face should be; a cavity that was fringed with coiling worm-like extremities.
Something like a centipede with a human face was fumbling at the wall, trying to climb.
Something naked, with skin patterned like wallpaper and with long flowing black hair, hung over the banister looking down into the swirling plaster and concrete-dust clouds.
Something like a machine; with twisting, undulating coils of electrical circuitry which buzzed and snapped. Compacted glass and valves; crumbling white asbestos powder. Squatting like some monstrous inside-out machine, leaking oil and slime . . . but somehow alive.
And just below Rohmer, sitting on the steps and staring up with an expression of reverence and wonder on its hideously recognisable face . . . was Gilbert.
He was naked, but his skin was somehow the colour and the texture of the carpet on the second floor; a mottled green and black. There were cigarette burns on that ‘skin’, where party revellers had dropped their cigarettes on to the carpet and stubbed them out. Gilbert’s chubby pink face was somehow stretched . . . as if the moulding of his new face had gone wrong, and his face had melted in the Oven. The jaw hung long and low to his chest. Drool curled from his monstrous upper jaw and lip. His arms, monkey-like, were crossed on his chest. His spectacles, one lens broken, had been completely imprinted into his monstrous face, giving him a racoon-like mask.
“I know your pain . . . I’ve come to heal you . . .” Rohmer began to laugh; a hideous, gleeful sound that echoed and bounced in the stairwells.