Will the Sun Ever Come Out Again?

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Will the Sun Ever Come Out Again? Page 12

by Nate Southard


  Jimmy’s face had turned from white to a color resembling old cheese. Or maybe old Cheetos.

  “What’s coming?”

  “Let me ask you something, Jimmy. What’s the weirdest shit you’ve ever seen?”

  The man answered without thinking. “The time Deena Simms gave birth to a cat. That was pretty fucked up.”

  “Well, she was five at the time. That’s the strangest thing, though?”

  “Yeah.”

  Charlie looked down at the water-filled street. The giant catfish had started moving again, its tail swinging back and forth like a club. Water moved out of its way as if it were scared of the big fish. The cat charged away with surprising speed, its body disappearing beneath the muck after only a second or two.

  “Gotta tell ya, Jimmy . . . ”

  “What?”

  “We could be in for a rough couple of days.”

  She moved with the grace of a goddess, knifing clean and crisp through the water. The rippling sounds of her body in the Ohio filled the valley. Even the summer crickets fell silent to listen to her symphony.

  Charlie leaned back on his elbows and watched her through the swaying grass. The moon had risen into the sky, and its light cast silver daggers over the water. Tammie’s skin became a gliding ray of light, beautiful and awe-inspiring.

  He chuckled. He wasn’t used to such thoughts, and they struck him as more than a little ridiculous. They were true, though. Every idea that floated through his mind did so honestly. There was no irony, none of his usual sarcasm. There was just pure love and desire for a woman who made him feel good about a world gone sour.

  “You laughing at me?” she called from the river. Her words carried a smile.

  Charlie climbed to his feet. She had stopped swimming. Instead, she waded about thirty feet out, her head bobbing up and down on top of the river.

  He grinned as he called out to her. “Far from it!”

  “My ass!”

  That did kick a guffaw out of him.

  “I knew it!” Her voice remained playful.

  “You know no such thing! Can’t you tell when a man’s laughin’ at himself?”

  Her own giggles cut through the air. “Not when I’m busy laughing at him!”

  “Oh, that’s just mean! You’re gonna get yours when you come outta that river!”

  “Charlie Crawford! You gonna make me wait?”

  He stepped forward, and grass scraped across his naked thighs. “You don’t want me coming in there after ya!”

  “Why’s that? You such a bad swimmer you don’t want me saving ya?”

  “Oh, that is it!” He started down the bank faster. He heard Tammie laugh good and loud. The sound echoed along the river. He picked up speed and broke through the clinging grass, ignored the rocks and bottle caps that cut at his feet. All he cared about was Tammie. Nothing else mattered but the woman in the river.

  “Hope you’re ready!” he said as water splashed over his feet. “This is gonna hurt you a lot more than it hurts me!”

  He expected a taunt in reply. Instead, Tammie screamed.

  Charlie sat at the lunch counter again, screwing a Marlboro into his lips and offering one to Jimmy. Mills took one with shaking fingers and failed to light the fucker on the first four tries.

  Charlie shook his head and blew a plume at the ceiling.

  “What do you know about the big flood, Jimmy?”

  “You mean like the biblical one?”

  “No. I mean like the one in 1913. The one that happened here.”

  “I think I’ve heard of it.”

  “And what did you hear?”

  “Water. Lots of it.”

  “Shit, that barely scratches the surface. Everything was covered up to Fourth Street. I don’t mean just a little bit of water, either. I mean a full story, at least. Not as bad as this, though.”

  “We’re at a full story now, Charlie.”

  “Nope. We’re at two.” Charlie took another puff and watched the other half of his conversation through a screen of smoke.

  Jimmy didn’t respond. Big shocker, that.

  “How many basements you got, Jimmy? One or two?”

  “One,” Mills said in a tone that sounded pissed off and stupid at the same time.

  “Then you’re sitting on a grave, buddy.”

  “What?”

  “You love the shit out of that word, don’t ya?”

  “Fuck you.”

  Charlie stubbed out his smoke on the countertop and lit a new one.

  “Here’s the deal. You can look it up at the library when the town dries out, if you don’t believe me.

  “Sulfer used to be ten feet lower than it is now. Back in 1913, the Ohio spilled her guts all over the town and sat there, ten feet high and pissed to the goddamn gills, for close to two weeks. Town had never seen anything like it. Worst part is that not a soul saw it coming, either. Word says Tommy Baker’s grandfather did it trying to summon something out of the river. Succeeded, too. Lot of folks lost their lives, though, so ruined furniture wasn’t the only thing left behind to clean up once the water went back down. Lotta bodies to pack up, too.

  “So the folks left behind--and there was more than a few, not like the flood took everybody--were stuck with one bitch of a job. They had to clean up a town that had basically lost the lower ten feet of everything, and they had a whole fuck-ton of corpses to get rid of on top of it all. So, they got to work. They piled bodies in as many basements as they could and sealed them shut. They used a few cantrips and whatnot to preserve the bodies, make sure they didn’t start smelling. All the garbage they threw out in the street as fill. Once they were ready, they paved over everything and rebuilt the storefronts. Boom. Whole new town of Sulfer.”

  “You’re shittin’ me,” Jimmy managed to say after half a minute of dumb silence.

  “I look like I’m shittin’ you?”

  “You wanna know the truth, Charlie? I can’t even tell.”

  “Then I guess you’ll have to wait and see, Jimmy. Don’t know how plain I can make it to ya.”

  Mills shook his head. “You’re fuckin’ with me, Charlie. Don’t try to tell me different. I get it, okay? You got me stuck in here, and there ain’t a place I can go. Great time to pick on Jimmy Mills, right? See how scared you can get me, then tell everybody down at Hilljack’s about it on dollar draft night.”

  Charlie pulled a drag off his Marlboro, letting Jimmy finish his thought.

  “Well, fuck you, Charlie Crawford. I’m paying your ass to help keep my place of business in pristine working order, so you don’t get to pull shit on me. You’re here until I decide you can piss off, and then what are you gonna do? Huh? You think you can swim your miserable ass all the way to dry land?”

  “You want to end our partnership, Mr. Mills?”

  “Maybe I do!”

  Charlie ran the fingers of one hand through his hair before fixing his eyes on Jimmy again. “You want me to go, I’ll go. Let me grab my shit.”

  “You didn’t bring anything.”

  “Then I guess I won’t have much to carry.” He got up from the lunch counter and stepped past Jimmy, not even bothering to give the bastard a glance. He moved toward the kitchen, stepping with purpose.

  “How you even gonna get out of here?” Jimmy asked.

  “Got my ways. You oughta know me better than that.”

  “But there’s giant catfish out there!”

  “And if I was a pussy like you, that might mean half a fuck to me. Have fun, Jimmy. Try not to piss yourself while I’m gone.”

  He counted his ringing footsteps against the linoleum as he pushed through the swinging doors into the kitchen. He reached the five before Jimmy stopped him.

  “Wait up, Charlie.”

  Crawdad gave himself another one of those winning smiles. “Yeah?”

  “Look, man. I’m sorry, okay? Just a little freaked out. Stick around, and let’s ride this out.”

  He turned to face Jimmy. “Gon
na cost you two hundred more.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t like being insulted. You can agree to it, or I can go.”

  “Fine. Shit on me.”

  “I don’t think there’ll be call for that.”

  Charlie dashed into the river like a madman, a desperate buffoon. Water flew in every direction as his feet kicked. Even as he fell waist-deep into the muddy current, when he should have known to dive and swim, he kept trying to run. His panicked brain refused to deliver any other commands. Run. Save her. Everything else was white noise and Tammie’s screams.

  She’d gone under several times. She hadn’t sunk, but been jerked violently beneath the surface. She’d managed to claw her way back, but it took longer each time, and her screaming had to be stealing far too much of her strength.

  “Tammie!” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. The short circuits in his mind hissed curses at him, refusing to think of any spells or tricks that might help his lover. His thoughts cleared just enough to let him dive forward. His body knifed though the water, and he came up kicking, paddling, swimming with everything he could muster.

  He’d last seen her no more than thirty feet from the shore. Still, it felt like miles before he saw her fingertips clawing at the river’s surface. The tiny splashes they made terrified him. How long had it been since she last came up?

  He reached for Tammie’s hand, and something jerked it away. Her fingertips disappeared into the depths, leaving behind rippling blackness. He stared in horror for a split second and then his brain finally kicked in, telling him what to do.

  The words to the protection spell crossed his lips in the instant before he dove underwater. It wasn’t a powerful spell, but Tammie could die in the length of time it would take him to perform something better.

  He hoped he had enough breath left in his lungs. He’d need every last bit of it.

  He searched the water with his hands, his eyes useless. He felt currents thick with terror. He followed them, kicking madly, reaching, and his fingers brushed flesh he recognized as Tammie’s.

  He shot forward and grabbed her fully. He clenched his fingers around her wrists and held on with everything he had. Something pulled them both down, something strong. He kicked against it, but it provided no resistance. A scream of frustration raced up from his lungs, but he bit it back. He needed that air.

  How long had it been since Tammie’s last breath? How long before she was gone?

  Squeezing his eyes shut against the Ohio’s polluted waters, he swung his legs down and wrapped them tight around Tammie’s waist. He felt her stop fighting. She knew it was him. He almost smiled. She’d recognized his touch.

  He had one shot, and he knew it. He mustered all of his concentration, ignoring the water that rushed past as they were dragged down. Instead, he found the words he needed, and he spoke them.

  They came out as a garbled, bubbling mess, but their intent was clear. His magic worked.

  His energy shoved through the water around him, blasting everything that wasn’t him, wasn’t Tammie. He felt the river shudder, and suddenly they weren’t sinking anymore. They floated slowly upward. He started kicking, holding on to his lover with his hands. He felt weak, spent from the magic, but he fought the water for every inch. He didn’t know if Tammie helped, but he hoped. Without her aid, the thing that had grabbed her might catch them once more.

  They broke the surface just as his lungs threatened to give in. Cold night air slapped his face, and he fully realized he was still alive.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She coughed, sputtering water past her lips. Her eyes were wide and frightened, and he took that as a sign she was still among the living.

  He paddled toward shore, dragging Tammie alongside him.

  “You’re not shittin’ me, right? You wouldn’t do that, would ya? Not now.”

  Charlie shook his head. He’d sat in silence, looking down at the flooded street, for almost an hour. Jimmy had paced behind him the entire time, feet clip-clopping on the wooden floor and hands wringing so hard they sounded like stretching rubber bands. Charlie did his best to stay focused through the long piece of time. Strong odds said they’d have to deal with some serious shit before all was said and done, and the fact of the matter was he didn’t know if he was ready for all of it just yet.

  He had a job to do, though. Sooner or later he’d have to swallow his fear and do it.

  Something broke the surface of the water below, then disappeared. Charlie watched the rippling spot left behind on the water’s surface, but he couldn’t find any clue that might tell him what had caused the disturbance. He wondered if Mills had seen it. The guy wasn’t screaming, so more likely he hadn’t.

  “Charlie?”

  “I’m gonna need salt.”

  A moment of silence, then, “Huh?”

  “Salt, Jimmy. Your customers put it on their fries. I need some. How much do you have?”

  “You want packets.”

  He sighed. “If that’s all you have. Can you do better than that?”

  “Gotta tin. Use it to fill up the shakers.”

  “That’ll do. Where’s it at?”

  “Dry storage. Next to the walk-in.”

  “Good.” He climbed to his feet. He used both hands to brush the dust off his ass, then looked to the sky and saw the first tinges of orange and gold that meant a sunset. “You better get some sleep, okay? It’s getting late.”

  “You serious?”

  “Yeah. I’m all kinds of serious. What? You don’t want to sleep?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then if I were you I’d shut my eyes and start sawing some logs, Jimmy.”

  “What are you gonna do?”

  One last glance at the street below. It wasn’t quite time.

  “Whatever I can.”

  Her breath returned by the time they reached the shore. Charlie helped her out of the shallows, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. She looked okay. Terrified, but okay.

  “Tammie, are you still in there?”

  She nodded, and he’d never been so thankful for such a simple motion. He released a long, relieved breath.

  “What was it?” she asked.

  He began to speak and then his jaw snapped shut. He didn’t know. He hadn’t seen Tammie’s attacker, hadn’t felt it. He only knew it was strong. It could have been anything from the big river cats to a vampire using the muddy water to hide from the sun.

  “Charlie?”

  He shook his head clear. “Yeah.”

  “My ankle’s cold.”

  He tore his eyes from her face long enough to glance at her ankle. What he saw there held his gaze. Whatever had attacked Tammie had scratched her leg to hell and back. He counted five deep gouges in the skin and muscle beneath her calf.

  “Oh, hell.” The words escaped before he could stop them. He looked to Tammie’s eyes and saw new fear there.

  “What is it?”

  “A scratch. Don’t worry.” He hoped he sounded convincing, but he doubted his abilities.

  The cuts should have been bleeding heavily. They were deep enough to hit all kinds of blood vessels. Tammie’s leg was clean, though. Instead of blood, water seeped from the gouges. It traveled down her ankle and around to her heel, where it dripped into the grass of the riverbank.

  Charlie tried to keep his breathing steady as he inspected the cuts more closely. The torn skin surrounding each wound was a dark blue that blanched to pure white farther from the cut.

  He’d never seen anything like it, and that frightened him.

  “Charlie?” Her voice wavered, barely restrained horror pushing it up and down, left and right.

  “It’s fine,” he said. “Let’s get you dressed and home, okay? Enough fun for one night.”

  She laughed the slightest bit. “Yeah. Okay.”

  Slowly, he helped her to her feet.

  “That really gonna help?”

  Jimmy’s voice almost sound
ed bored, like he had convinced himself this was all some big prank and Charlie was just playing a part. There was still an edge to it, though. A little waver that said everything that needed saying.

  Charlie sighed as he grabbed another fistful of salt from the tin and extended his arm over the water. He let the mineral sift through his fingers, falling to the flooded street. “It should,” he said. “Current’s not too strong. Should settle pretty good. Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

  “Doesn’t salt dissolve in water?”

  Charlie blinked. “Not when I put it there.”

  “So what’s coming? We need to get weapons or something?” Good. Jimmy believed him.

  “Weapons? Like what?”

  Jimmy shrugged. “I got knives and shit down in the kitchen.”

  “Doesn’t hurt, I guess,” Charlie replied. “Don’t really think it’ll do a lot of good, though.”

  “Why not?”

  Charlie took a single step away from the window. He looked to the sky. The gold and orange were gone. The red had darkened, and a purple hue had crept around its edges. Night was coming on fast.

  “Because I don’t know what’s coming,” he answered. He sprinkled a thick line of salt along the window’s ledge, which was painfully close to the floor. Even worse, it was only about four feet up from the water line.

  “You don’t know?”

  “Not really. Could be something real bad. Hell, Jimmy, it might not be anything at all. I’m betting it’s a little worse than a giant catfish, though.”

  “But you don’t know? And you think it might come in here?”

  “I think it might try. I’m gonna shut the windows up tight just in case, and I’m hoping the salt will stop anything getting through, but there’s some terrible shit in that river. Sure as hell, there’s stuff I don’t want to look in the eye.”

  Jimmy stood at the edge of a long shadow. He shivered the slightest bit, his eyes fixed on Charlie. “Stuff like what?”

  “I don’t know, Jimmy. I thought I’d just got done tellin’ you that.” He swung the windows shut and locked them. Once they were good and tight, he placed a hand to each pane and muttered a simple charm. It might work; it might not. Time would tell. “And don’t give me that ‘the river’s part of me’ shit. It don’t add up to jack or shit at the end of the day.”

 

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