“She liked you a lot.” I didn’t know what else to say. Silence hung in the air. Martha released me and I breathed air back into my lungs.
“Trent,” Oscar called. “Can you tell me what you said back at your house?”
I tried to think but nothing came to me.
“What’s so important about Alton?” he asked.
“Mr. Sleibach?” Martha interrupted.
“The one and only,” Oscar said.
“Why you gotta go find that crazy man, Trent?”
“I think he might have some knowledge of what’s going on. If anyone does, it’s Alton.”
“Hell, I sure don’t,” Martha said.
“What makes you say that, Trent?” Oscar asked.
“Have you seen the telescopes he’s got out on his back porch? Have you ever heard him at the coffee shop talking about this star system and him wanting to go Mars when it becomes available for civilians? He has plenty knowledge about those things, just no one ever took him serious.” I gave Oscar a long look. “This might be the time we do take him seriously, Oscar.”
Oscar rubbed his stubbled chin with a huge hand. “Well, as long as it helps us in some way I guess it wouldn’t hurt to listen to what he has to say.”
“If he’ll even see us,” I said.
“If he’s still alive, that is,” Martha added.
I looked at Oscar. “She’s right; he may not even be alive after what we just saw.”
Oscar nodded. “That’s true, Trent. Let’s hope he’s okay and holed up in his house like always.”
“So, when do we head over there?” I asked.
“No better time than the present, I guess,” Oscar said. “You coming, Martha?”
Martha didn’t say a word. I could see the fear in her eyes. She didn’t want to go outside and face whatever new monsters called our world their new home. Hell, I didn’t even want to go outside or go traipsing down the road to a would-be crazy person’s house, to meet a man I knew nothing about except from small-town rumors. I didn’t want to say anything, but I was sure we would be seeing more new life as we journeyed there. What forms they would take I dared not fathom. I kept the thought to myself, like a dirty secret.
“What are we going to do once we go over there?” Martha asked.
“Do?” Oscar said. “What do you mean ‘do?’ We first have to figure out what has happened.”
“Well then, you will be coming back here, won’t you?”
“Of course, Martha,” I replied. I didn’t want an argument or even hear one. My head hurt too much; anything to ease the pain the better.
“I haven’t even tried the TV. I can do that while you two go over there. I really don’t want to go outside.” Martha headed towards the living room.
“She’s scared,” Oscar said. I nodded. “Guess we best get moving. You ready?”
I shrugged. “Like you said: no better time than the present.”
Before we stepped outside, Martha ran up to Oscar and hugged him tight. “You coming back, aren’t you Papa Bear?”
“Sure am, Momma Bear. That’s the plan.”
I heard Martha’s sigh of relief. Moments passed but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want Oscar to miss the opportunity to give his wife one last embrace, to say one last goodbye, if things went wrong while en-route to Alton’s. I was becoming more fearful of what else we would encounter: our little trip would usually only take maybe twenty minutes tops. With the state of things now it might take hours.
Oscar made his wife let him go. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and smiled as I moved in front of them and made my way towards his detached garage.
There, his ATV sat ready for an impulsive ride to wherever.
“You watch out for him now, Trent,” Martha called.
I waved back and said a little softer than a yell, “I will.” I said it to ease her mind. The trick to staying alive was to watch out for each other. I hoped Oscar realized the same thing.
Oscar’s garage sat silent and dark. That’s when I noticed it.
“Oscar.”
“Yeah, what is it Trent?”
“Hear that?”
Oscar tilted his head, trying to get a better angle on the sound. After a few seconds he looked at me, puzzled. “Hear what?”
“Exactly, Oscar.” He didn’t know what I meant at first but then he realised. He straightened and walked outside, beckoning me to join him. We exited the garage and looked around, not hearing anything but our breathing and the crunch of the gravel beneath our feet.
“Not even a damn squirrel fussin’,” Oscar said.
“Nothing. Not even a cricket or cicada.”
Oscar’s face grew grim. “I don’t like it, Trent.”
“Neither do I.”
“Let’s get a move on before I decide not to go.”
I almost wanted to chuckle, seeing this burly man scared to traverse the very woods he lived and grew up in, but I kept my mouth shut.
Within minutes we were on our way to Alton Sleighbach’s house, but neither of us could fathom what we would see while we ventured there.
4
Oscar’s six-wheeled vehicle was not a traditional ATV; it was more of a mini-car type thing, topless and able to seat three comfortably along its one narrow long seat. It could go in the water and on land. Oscar called it his ‘gator’. If you looked at it from the side you would think it was a boat with wheels. Later, we thanked whatever was still listening to our prayers that we didn’t try to traverse the water or go anywhere near it.
The gator jerked and shook as Oscar pushed it to its limits. The wind, hot and heavy, rolled across my face. It felt good, refreshing, until I looked at the sky and saw lime-colored clouds forming. Oscar saw them too. He stomped the gator’s gas pedal hard to the floor.
“That don’t look good,” he said above the roar of the engine.
I shook my head. “No, it doesn’t.”
The woods raced by and the clouds began to fall to earth like water poured from a pitcher. Seeing became difficult and we almost missed the turn down Potters road to get to Alton’s. We traveled on and Oscar had to slow the gator down to a crawl.
About a mile before Alton’s house a large swath of woods lay in ruin. Something huge had come through and left a trail of devastation in its wake. I looked at the downed trees and saw a new type of vegetation spreading across the ground. Long, prickled vines grew at an alarming rate, and even as we passed I saw the vines getting bigger and spreading across the trampled foliage. Flowers the color of rotten plums blossomed in octagonal shapes and within each bloom a long proboscis jutted, searching the air. What it sought I didn’t care to know. We drove on and I didn’t mention it to Oscar.
We were almost at Alton’s house when a loud ripping sound off to our left drew our attention. I saw trees snapping and being slammed to ground. The mist was everywhere now and visibility was almost non-existent. A form I can’t even imagine began to coalesce within the cloud-like fog.
Tendrils of mist clung to it and only hinted at the thing’s true form. Its size was beyond dispute, however; it reached the tops of the trees, and as it walked it snapped the trunks like matchsticks. A roar akin to the flying thing we encountered at my house deafened our ears.
Oscar screamed and jerked the steering wheel. The gator tilted and I feared it would roll, but at the last minute the gator righted itself.
When I plucked up the courage to open my eyes the shape before us blocked our path. Oscar slammed on the brakes. A flushed deer leaped from our right. The shapeless thing grabbed it with an unseen limb and pulled the terrified animal towards it. I stared in horror as the deer gave a high pitched scream before disappearing. The thing roared again.
“Trent, you see that?”
“Yeah, I do. Oscar, don’t move.”
We both sat still; Oscar decided my request was a good one, as the thing’s shape became clearer. It bent over and swayed from side to side. Long, rope-like tentacles moved purposeful
ly in the air, ready to strike and grab at whatever moved. Shapes unimaginable protruded along its body outline, things I dare not imagine or attempt to describe. It was searching for us, I think; the deer was not enough to satisfy its hunger.
In the distance a roar tore through the woods, possibly from its kin. The thing stopped and bellowed an answer. Its long, sinewy feelers still searched the air.
Are there more of them? I remember thinking. Was it the cloud-like mist that brought these things to Earth? In seconds the thing vanished and the mist began to clear, but we could still hear its movement through the forest. Nothing in its way survived.
Oscar started the gator again. I wondered if he could drive, his hands were shaking so bad. The low hum of the gator’s motor filled the air. Oscar cringed but we heard no sound of the thing’s return.
We slowly moved on towards Alton’s house.
5
I had known where Alton lived but had never been out to his house before. A simple one-story house sat high up on a hill, which was very unusual for the South. Yes, we have hills, but none of this height. The yard needed mowing; grass reached my waist at places along the driveway. Oscar parked next to a rundown Chevy Blazer. We listened for any sounds as we walked up to the porch. The boards creaked as Oscar took his first step. We both jumped at the loud sound.
Oscar let out a sigh of relief. I looked up and saw two black holes staring at me from a wide rectangle cut out of the door. Upon closer inspection I realized it was the barrel of an old shotgun. A weasely voice sounded from the other side.
“Get away! There’s no help here.”
I saw frustration on Oscar’s face. I motioned with a finger to my lips for him to be quiet.
“Alton, it’s me: Trent Lang, and Oscar Woodall is with me.”
“Who?”
I repeated myself and was cut off mid-sentence. I heard the double click of the gun being armed. “Stand up,”
“Alton, we don’t mean any -”
“Stand up, I said! Or I’ll shoot you both.”
I stood. A second later Oscar followed suit. Then a head appeared in the window.
The metal of Alton’s round-rimmed eyeglasses glared in the twilight. Through these foreboding barriers his eyes took in the sight of me and Oscar. Mumbling came from behind the door and his face disappeared. After a brief moment, filled with shuffling from within, the weasely voice spoke through the rectangular hole once more.
“I guess it’s okay. You two never made fun of me at the diner, and that’s the only reason I’m opening the door.”
“Thank you, Alton.” I gestured to Oscar to remain calm.
The door slowly swung inward to reveal a willowy fellow with a sullen face. A wry smile broke on his features. “Well, come on in don’t stand out there all day. Anyone follow you?”
I shook my head.
“Anything follow you?”
We both looked at Alton.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen things.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Cause if you say you haven’t, you can turn right around and go back to wherever you came from.”
“We’ve seen things all right, Alton.” Oscar sighed. He sounded like a dead weight had been lifted off him.
“We just want to know what has happened,” I added. “We figured if anyone around here knows it would be you.”
Alton tilted his head and ran a slender, long-fingered hand through his thinning blond hair. “Damn it. Get inside, I told you.”
We entered, and Alton gave me an appraising, and unnerving look. “I do know what’s going on, and if you want to know I’ll tell you. But if you laugh, make one tiny smirk, or if I see your eyes roll into the back of your head - you’re gone. I have old Lolita here to back me up.” He patted the double barrel shotgun.
“We won’t laugh,” Oscar said.
“Neither will I,” I promised.
“That’s comforting.” Alton moved between us and locked the door. “Follow me.”
To say that Alton’s house was in a state of disarray would be an understatement. Paper and folders littered the shelves, tables, and anything that could hold them. Printouts hung on the walls and full color photographs were tacked to the ceiling. Plates and silverware sat on the floor; some clean, some encrusted with uneaten food. There wasn’t a clean available spot for anything else, let alone a walkway, but Alton moved through the debris with a cat-like grace. We followed the best we could, hearing papers crunch beneath our feet, and the occasional ting of silverware hit by our passing feet. We reached the hallway and Alton stopped. I looked around, expecting a bloated rat to run across my feet or jump from the littered shelves and try to make a meal out of me. That didn’t happen.
Alton produced a key from his pocket and inserted it into the wall. He turned the key and with a loud click, the wall separated to reveal a dimly-lit stairwell. Alton hurried down the stairs. Oscar gave me a do-you-really-want-to-go-down-there look, and I motioned him forward.
We finally reached the bottom. Basements aren’t popular in the South; the water table is too high to make them useful, but Alton had done the impossible. The basements that people attempt to build are usually damp and full of mold, but Alton’s was neither. It was dry and exceptionally neat, a far cry from his upstairs. Cement walls at least nine feet high ran the length of the house. As upstairs, numerous printouts hung from them. I looked in awe at the gadgetry sprawled throughout his space. Computers whirred and large, flat-screen monitors hung from the ceilings.
Alton led us to the center of the room where a small, simple desk seemed out of place among the techno stuff surrounding it. Alton pulled us up two chairs and told us to sit down. We did, and he walked to the back of the room to a small refrigerator and asked us if we wanted anything to drink.
“Ice cold water for me, if you have it,” Oscar said.
“I’ll take a Coke if you have one, Alton.” I needed something sweet to calm my stomach.
Alton handed us our drinks. Oscar downed his quickly and I sipped mine, enjoying the burn in my throat from the soda.
“Things have changed, haven’t they?” Alton said with a smile.
“Yeah,” Oscar sighed.
“Can you tell us what’s happened, Alton?” I asked, as sincerely as, I could.
“I can indeed.”
“But will you?” Oscar asked.
Alton was silent for a long moment. I began to think this was a wasted trip, then Alton began.
“I will.” He took his glasses off and looked at us. “To put it short and sweet, we’ve been snatched from our position in the universe and placed somewhere else.” He paused to observe our initial reaction. When he was satisfied we weren’t going to laugh at him, he continued. “It seems strange such a thing could happen, but it has. Needles to say, we are not the better for it.”
“I heard that,” me and Oscar said simultaneously.
Alton continued. “The great monoliths are the key to this extraordinary occurrence, but it started well before those things rose from the oceans. Do you remember the people walking into the oceans?”
I nodded. Oscar looked blankly at me and then to Alton.
“I don’t have time to go into specifics about it,” Alton said with an impatient tone. “Trent can fill you in on that later. It seems this happening was laid down ages ago and is only now coming to fruition. There are old cults in the world, some older than we care to imagine.”
“Cults?” Oscar said. “Like…black magic and stuff?”
Alton smiled. “Far worse than black magic…stuff, Oscar. Why they chose this particular time is beyond my knowledge, suffice to say the time was right. It happened, and we are caught up in it.”
“Do you know where we are?” I asked, hoping for an answer but not expecting to get one.
Alton shook his head. “No, Trent. I haven’t the slightest idea where the monoliths have taken us. Most of the satellites didn’t make the journey, doubtless been pulled from their orbits. It’s not just the i
nternet that’s down; all mass communication is out…its total pandemonium everywhere.”
I shook my head, feeling the weight of doom settle upon my mind and body.
“However, I made preparations for such an eventuality. I do believe the masses called us ‘Doomsdayers’, if that is the right word.”
Oscar gave me a wild, half-crazed look and then said to Alton, “You mean you have stockpiles of food and weapons stored down here?”
Alton smiled. “I have enough food to last myself almost five years. I’m not one for weapons, so no, I don’t have a ‘stockpile’ of guns and ammo down here. Just the…essential weaponry.”
Oscar sighed.
“But I do have access to operational internet and means to get news from all over the world if need be. The US military were caught unawares, but they’ve always had contingency plans for a mass brownout of communications satellites.” He gave a slow, knowing wink. “Best not let them know how I accessed their network. Information is as important as weaponry in a time like this, and food…well, food is food and we need it survive.”
I smiled at Alton. “How do you have all of this?”
A self-satisfied smile appeared. “While everyone else was spending their hard-earned money on junk I used mine to run a landline to one of the main military server hubs of the internet. Then I had the biggest gas generator ever made installed in the back room there.” Alton pointed to a door on the east back wall. “Even if I left all the lights on and kept the power fed to all the technology you see here I would be fine for over two years.”
Oscar’s eyes went wide.
“Yes, Oscar. I have quite a store of gas tanks in an adjacent room next to the generator.”
I smiled again and stifled a laugh. “That must have cost a fortune, Alton.”
“It did, Trent, but it’s proved to be a worthwhile investment. If I hadn’t planned ahead in this manner I would probably be roaming the land, lost as you two are, wondering what’s happened and why everything has gone totally insane.”
“Well, I’m glad you did Alton, and thanks for sharing this with us.”
Dreaming In Darkness Page 32