by Amy Cross
Sixty-Three
Sheriff James Kopperud
“Get back!” I shout, grabbing Lewis's arm and hauling him away from the creature.
“What the hell is that thing?” he gasps, clutching his left hand as if he's in pain. “It doesn't look -”
Before he can finish, the creature lunges at us and I fire twice, hitting it square in the chest and sending it thudding back toward the center of the chamber. With my gun still raised, I watch as thick, black-red blood runs down the creature's torso, but a moment later I realize it's already starting to get up again. Whatever this thing is, it's not ready to stay down.
“Stop!” I yell. “Whatever you -”
Suddenly it lets out a loud scream, revealing a row of yellow, stubby teeth. At the same time, it lunges at me and I fire again, this time hitting it twice in the face. It falls back and slumps to the floor, leaving spattered blood on the ground, but it's still moving and after a moment it turns and looks up at me.
I watch in horror as an entire plate of bone starts slipping from one side of its skull, leaving blood dribbling onto his shoulder. Part of the bone has detached from the creature's eye socket, but it doesn't seem to be in pain at all. Instead, it starts struggling back to its feet as if it's going to come at me again.
“Kill it!” Lewis screams, his voice filled with panic. “For God's sake, what the hell is it?”
“Look at the layers of skin!” I whisper, startled by the sight of pale flesh hanging from the creature's wounds to reveal brighter, pinker skin beneath. “It's almost as if -”
Suddenly Lewis grabs my gun and fires at the creature, blowing an entire side of its head away and sending it crumpling to the floor. Tossing my gun aside, he hurries past the creature and grabs his own weapon, which he dropped earlier, and then he turns and empties every remaining shot into the creature's head, blasting its skull apart until all that's left is the stump of its neck.
“It's dead,” I say finally, as Lewis slumps breathlessly against the wall.
“It's going now,” he continues, wincing with pain. “You felt it, right? When that thing was alive, it's almost like the air was singing with fear. I know that sounds insane, but come on, you must have felt it. And now it's fading away.”
“You might be right,” I reply, stepping closer to the creature while watching for any hint that it might still be dangerous. “I think the only thing that kept me from losing my mind was you.” I glance at Lewis. “It was almost as if, the more you panicked, the more I realized I had to take control. Maybe the effect only works properly on one person at a time.”
Getting to his feet, he limps toward me, and for a moment all we can do is stare down at the bloodied, headless corpse before us. Its flesh is pale white, with patches of bloody pink breaking through, and I have to admit that I've never seen anything that looks quite so inhuman. I'm sure that we'll be able to figure out what caused this thing to exist, but right now I feel like I'm looking at something that came from another world. The more I stare at the creature, however, the more I realize that the pale, almost gelatinous flesh seems to have formed around a darker, deeper body hidden within. There are scraps of clothing that seem almost twisted into the white skin.
“Pants,” I whisper.
“Huh?”
“It's wearing boxers.”
I step closer and lean down to take a closer look. Sure enough, some of the clothing buried in the flesh looks to be part of a set of boxers, with a very faint airplane pattern.
“Careful!” Lewis hisses.
Taking hold of a section of the boxers, I tilt the cloth back and see that there's small cream-colored patch sewn into the inside of the waist section. The lettering is slightly faded, but I squint and finally make out enough of the letters.
“Thomas Hague,” I whisper.
“What's that?” Lewis asks.
“I just identified a monster,” I continue, “by reading the name in its underwear. This is Tommy Hague, the kid who went missing a few years ago.”
“No way,” Lewis replies. “Absolutely not. I saw pictures of him, he was a sweet little kid, not a...”
His voice trails off.
“Not a pale, bloodthirsty monster?” I mutter, feeling a shudder pass through my chest. “Something must have brought him down here and changed him somehow.”
Pausing, I realize that none of this makes sense. I've been telling myself that we'll figure out a rational explanation later, but finally I have to accept that rational explanations might be a reach too far. This thing, whatever it is and whatever it did to Tommy Hague's body, is real.
“I don't think this kind of creature should exist,” Lewis says after a moment. “It's not right. It's not natural.”
I'm about to reply, and tell him I agree, when I spot a glow in the distance. Stepping past him, I look through the gap in the wall and see that flames are spreading through the forest.
“There's a fire,” I whisper, edging closer to the gap and peering out to see that the flames have spread over a vast distance. I can hear a distant roaring sound, too, along with sirens in the distance. “It's massive. It's heading toward town.”
“The weather's been so dry lately,” Lewis says as he comes over to join me. “We've been warning people for weeks not to light fires out in the forest.”
“This is spreading so fast, though,” I point out. “It's on both sides of the river, like it didn't just start in one spot. We have to get back to town and help figure out what to do.”
“What about this thing?”
I turn and look for a moment at the dead creature.
“We'll leave it and come back for it,” I tell him. “The priority right now has to be getting to town and dealing with the fire.”
Heading across the chamber, I'm about to go into the tunnel when I realize that once again I subconsciously avoided a particular spot at the chamber's center. I turn just in time to see Lewis limping after me, and he does exactly the same thing. For no obvious reason at all, he very carefully makes his way around the edge of the room, as if he's avoiding the center. I look down again at our footprints in the dirt, and I see that even when we were panicking and trying to keep away from the creature, neither of us crossed the center of the chamber at all, almost as if we were avoiding something.
I stare at the spot we missed, and for a moment I feel as if something is definitely watching me.
“Boss?” Lewis says as he reaches me. “Are you okay?”
“Do you see something there?” I ask.
“Like what?”
“Just look for a moment.”
Staring at the center of the chamber, I swear I feel as if I'm going to see a figure at any moment. Something seems to be flickering at the very edge of my perception, but somehow it won't quite break through.
“I don't see anything,” Lewis says finally. “You're freaking me out a little. Can we get out of here?”
“Let's move,” I tell him, figuring that we can come back later. Whatever's going on down here, it's going to have to wait until we know Deal is safe from the fire.
For the next few minutes, we make our way quickly along the tunnels, heading back toward the entrance we used earlier. We still have flashlights, and it's not too difficult to retrace our steps, but finally we reach the chimney I climbed up earlier, and when I look toward the opening I see that flames are filling the air.
“What if we're trapped?” Lewis asks. “What if -”
“Let's just move as fast as we can,” I reply, trying not to panic as I lead him further along the tunnel.
“But if -”
“Don't waste your breath!” I say firmly. “I need you to keep a clear head!”
Fortunately, he keeps quiet for the next couple of minutes, until we reach the tunnel that leads directly to the exit. My mind is already racing as I try to figure out how we're going to get back to town if the fire is blocking some of the roads, but suddenly I stop as I see the entrance ahead and realize that flames are roari
ng right outside. Our vehicle is out there somewhere, but it looks as if the fire has already reached us.
“Okay, now what?” Lewis asks. “Where's the next way out?”
“I don't know,” I reply, stepping forward but already feeling the heat against my face. After just a couple more steps, I have to stop again as I realize that going out this way is going to be impossible.
“Cellphones aren't working,” he mutters. “Maybe it's the fire, or maybe it's because we're down here.”
“There has to be another way out.”
“Don't you think the air's getting thin?” he continues, and I turn to see that he's loosening his collar. “The fire's so strong, it's drawing the air from the tunnels. We're going to suffocate!”
“We're not going to suffocate,” I tell him, although for a moment I'm not entirely sure how we're going to get away. I look back the way we just came, but if we don't find a way to get out through the nearest exit, our only option is to go deeper into the tunnel system and hope we somehow manage to find another escape route. And right now, the idea of wandering blindly around in this place isn't exactly appealing.
“We're gonna die down here,” Lewis stammers, taking a couple of steps back.
“Don't be stupid,” I mutter. “Just stay calm and we'll think of something!”
“You can't think of anything!” he hisses. “There's nothing to think of! We're trapped, and the fire's gonna suck out all the air, and we're gonna die and there's no way out!”
“Lewis -”
“We have to find another way! Maybe someone's up there, maybe they can hear us.”
Turning, he starts running back along the tunnel.
“Stop!” I yell, watching as he gets further and further away. “Don't be an idiot!”
“Help us!” he screams, already disappearing around the far corner. “Somebody get us out of here!”
“Lewis, come back!” I shout, shocked that he's falling apart so quickly. “Lewis, I'm ordering you to get back here right now!”
I wait, but I hear his panicked cries receding into the distance until they're lost to the noise of the crackling forest fire.
“Well, that's great!” I hiss, making my way along the tunnel until I reach the next junction. Listening for a moment, I realize I can hear Lewis yelling and shouting far away, his voice echoing through the darkness. He sounds absolutely insane. “Get back here!” I shout, even though I doubt he'll pay any attention. “Lewis, I'm ordering you to get your ass back here right now!”
“What the hell was that?” he shouts suddenly, his voice sounding so far away that I can barely hear him at all. “Was that you?”
“Lewis! Back here! Now!”
I wait for him to pull himself together, but instead I think I can hear him shouting at someone in the distance. I swear, he actually seems to be losing his mind.
“Lewis!” I yell. “What -”
Suddenly he screams, and I freeze as I realize he seems to be in pain. I try telling myself that he's just panicking, but after a moment the scream twists until it sounds as if he's being choked. The man might have begun to imagine things in the dark, but I swear he seems to be under attack.
Raising my gun, even though I'm out of bullets, I make my way along the tunnel, trying to follow the sound of Lewis's voice as he continues to cry out.
“Where are you?” I shout. “I'm coming! Just hold still!”
By the time I get to the end of this particular stretch of tunnel, Lewis's voice sounds a little closer, but he still seems to be in pain. A moment later, I hear frantic, hurrying footsteps in one of the nearby tunnels, followed by a heavy thud and then his voice screaming again.
“Lewis!” I yell. “What's wrong?”
He calls out again, but suddenly his voice is cut off and I'm left standing alone in silence.
I wait.
Nothing.
And then, slowly, I become aware of a distant shuffling sound, as if someone is walking – not running, just calmly walking – along one of the adjacent tunnels. Whoever's out there, they sound injured, but I'm worried that another of those pale creatures might have shown up.
“This is James Kopperud of Deal Sheriff's Department!” I yell, aiming both my gun and my flashlight along the tunnel, toward the darkness ahead. “I want you to make yourself known immediately! Identify yourself and step this way with your hands in the air!”
The footsteps continue, coming ever closer, but the flashlight's beam still picks out nothing more than the rocky tunnel ahead.
“This is your last warning!” I shout. “Whoever you are, I need you to identify yourself! Lewis, if it's you, for God's sake open your mouth and say something!”
I wait.
Silence.
“Lewis! Where are you?”
A fraction of a second, the shuffling footsteps come to an end, and I'm once again left in silence. Feeling a little breathless, I watch the tunnel cautiously, before taking a couple of steps forward with my gun still raised. I might be out of bullets, but anyone else who's down here might not necessarily know that. I'm also starting to feel increasingly breathless, and I'm worried that Lewis might have been right about the fire drawing oxygen up from the tunnel system, leaving the air thinner down here. I'm no scientist, but the idea kind of makes sense to me as I edge a little further along the tunnel, watching for any sign of movement.
And then I see him.
Lewis is on the ground, crumpled in a heap and not moving.
“Lewis!” I shout, waiting in case anyone or anything makes a lunge for me from the darkness. “Say something! Can you hear me?”
The flashlight's beam picks out the tunnel ahead, but all I see are rocky walls. There's definitely no-one nearby, so I make my way over to Lewis and crouch next to him. I flash the beam of light in both directions, to make sure that nothing's about to come creeping up behind me, and then I look down and see to my horror that one side of Lewis's throat has been completely torn away, leaving a bloody, pulpy mess.
His eyes, meanwhile, are wide open, staring down toward the ground.
I check for a pulse, but he's dead.
Tilting his head slightly, I aim my flashlight toward his damaged neck and inspect the wound. A lot of flesh has been gouged away, leaving strips of meat hanging down. I'm no expert, but as I peer closer, I swear I can see not only patches of exposed bone, but also the side of his airway. Whoever or whatever did this to him, they definitely didn't use a knife. Instead, it's almost as if some kind of wild animal came at him and chewed halfway through his neck.
I glance both ways along the tunnel again, just to check that nothing's coming this way, and then I turn back to Lewis.
There don't seem to be any other injuries anywhere on his body. I've seen images of people who were killed by wolves in other parts of the state, and the damage has never been confined to just one spot like this. It's almost as if someone was very deliberately trying to kill him quickly, causing as much blood-loss as possible by tearing his neck open. His flashlight is still nearby, on the ground, so it seems as if his attacker wasn't trying to scavenge anything. In fact -
Suddenly I hear footsteps rushing up behind me.
I turn, just in time to see a human figure lunging at me. Startled, I fall back against Lewis's body and then I slam down hard on my back, as the figure crawls up onto my chest and lets out a loud, hissing gasp. For a fraction of a second, I see a girl's face staring down at me with wide, insane eyes, but I quickly switch into defensive mode and slam my right arm against her jaw, sending her crashing back against the wall.
She tries to throw herself at me, but I manage to kick her in the chest, slamming her into the wall again.
“Stop!” I gasp, struggling to my feet, only for her to attack me yet again. This time, I manage to grab her arm and force her against the opposite wall, but she turns and swipes a hand at me, as if she's trying to scratch my eyes.
I force her arms behind her back and hold her wrists together, keeping a tight
grip on her as she continues to struggle.
“You're under arrest!” I hiss, pulling her back. “I don't know what you -”
“The air's going!” she stammers, sounding hoarse and pained. “Can't you feel it? The air's being stolen from us! The witch needs air!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, still struggling to keep hold of her as she pulls and tries to twist away.
“Did he send you?” she continues. “Did he get her? Did he get her and then send you to finish it all?”
Before I can reply, she bursts into tears, sobbing violently and slumping forward until her head bumps hard against the wall. I keep hold of her wrists, in case she suddenly tries to attack me again, but now she seems completely distraught.
“Why did he lie to me?” she sobs, as I feel her knees start to buckle, leaving me struggling to hold her up. “He said I could go home! He promised I'd get to go back to them!”
“Who are you talking about?”
“He promised!” she wails, crying like a child even though she's clearly in her twenties or even thirties. “He lied!”
“Who are you?” I ask, before realizing that based on everything Ramsey told me earlier in the night, there's only one possibility. As the girl continues to sob, I try to think back to Ramsey's story, but I don't quite remember all the details. “Esther?” I continue finally. “Is your name Esther?”
“How do you know?” she gasps, suddenly trying to turn.
I keep a tight grip on her wrists, but she's managed to twist her head until her right eye is straight at me.
“How do you know my name?” she continues, with a hint of wonder in her voice. “Did you come looking for me?”
“My daughter mentioned you,” I reply. “Her name is Ramsey, she -”
“Where are my parents?” she shouts, suddenly pulling her wrists free and slamming me back against the wall of the tunnel. Shocked, I drop the flashlight. “Do you know them?” she stammers. “Please, tell me you know where they are! Tell me it wasn't them in the forest, tell me it wasn't their bones! Tell me I was wrong!”
“Do you mean...”
Staring at her, I start to realize that the dates just about match up.