The Cleansing

by Shane Staley

  Audra looked at me and giggled.

  “What?” I asked, smiling back.

  “Nothing,” she replied and giggled again.

  “What?” I asked a second time.

  “Nothing. I’m just smiling at you, that’s all.”

  “All right. I’ll take your word for it,” I said, then glanced down, trying to conceal my own smile.

  We walked to a playground, and Audra sat on a swing. We talked about growing up and the world and music and art. We talked about everything, it seemed. And when the light began to slowly creep over the clouded horizon, we talked about how dawn was our favorite time of the day.

  On the way back, the mood of our conversation shifted.

  “I know my father’s dying,” Audra said. “He doesn’t know that I know, and I’m not going to tell him that I do. He always wants me to be happy, never sad. I don’t think he can look me in the eye and tell me that he’s dying. It would hurt him too much.”

  I hung my head, trying to conjure up some magical word to comfort her.

  As I pondered, she took my hand in hers. I glanced up and noticed that tears were running down her face.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  She tried to smile that bright, beautiful smile, but couldn’t quite pull it off.

  “I can’t imagine life without him.”

  “I know what it’s like,” I commented. “I knew my father was dying for months and I tried to prepare myself for it. I kept rehearsing what I was going to tell him when I visited. But when the time came, there was just this big lump in my throat, but no words. I spent time with him just to let him know that I loved him. Every time I tried to tell him how I felt about him, he would wave his hand, shake his head, like he knew what I was trying to do. And I always felt like if I told him that I loved him and would miss him, then that would be it. His death would be finalized. Instead I just kept it inside and hoped that I had one more day.” I felt tears welling in the corners of my eyes. My voice quivered. “Then eventually that one day never came. He was gone. And, even after, I felt myself still going through that speech in my head about him dying and me loving him and thanking him for all that he had done for me, for being such a great father—”

  My voice cut out and I sighed. When I looked at Audra again, she was crying harder. And I felt instantly drawn to her. I knew she was no longer feeling for herself, but feeling for me. And I realized what a beautiful person she was—that rare kind of person who sincerely cares about others, even someone like myself who was still, more or less, a stranger to her.

  We embraced then, both holding onto one another as if the world would end if we let go. And the feeling seemed so strange: a feeling of such a strong connection between two complete strangers, like we were never strangers in the beginning, but old friends.

  The birds began to chirp louder in the trees and the morning dawned to another dark and cloudy day, one that seemed, once again, on the brink of a terrible storm.

  Chapter 15

  “Uh oh. Busted!” Mason yelled from the edge of my father’s deck.

  Gary poked his head around the burly man, pushed his glasses back onto his nose and shook his head. “Oh, thank God! I was beginning to worry about you. Thanks for leaving me a note! I woke up and you were gone.”

  Audra held her arms up as if she were being arrested. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think we’d be out that long.”

  “That’s what they all say,” Mason commented with a giant smirk on his face.

  Audra punched him in the shoulder and laughed; her face was now flushed.

  I approached the deck and Mason stopped me. “You know he has a rifle back in the trailer,” he explained, nodding to Gary who still looked miffed. “Uses it to chase off all the guys.”

  Audra punched his other shoulder. “Very funny. We were just walking.”

  Gary shook his head, finally relaxed and laughed along.

  “Well now that you’re finally here,” Mason said, “we’ve got some business to attend to.”

  I nodded.

  “You guys have fun,” Audra said. She blew a kiss to her father and turned to walk away. “I’m going to take a little nap.”

  Mason slapped my back. “Man, you must have wore her out!”

  Gary shot a stern look at Mason, one that seemed more like a warning issued than real displeasure.

  Audra turned on the road and stuck her tongue out at Mason. Mason laughed, deep and loud, as Audra stalked off.

  “OK, back to business,” Mason said.

  I looked around the yard, noticing that they had taken the skirting back off the trailer. I also noticed several cans of gasoline in the yard as well as a pair of green rubber gloves.

  “Whoa,” I said. “You guys aren’t planning to burn down the trailer too, are you?”

  “No,” Gary said, “the well is about twenty feet deep. We’re going to have to push the top off together. It’s a cement slab and it’s heavy. We’re only going to push it so far, just to see inside. Once we see them, we’re going to pour in the gasoline, cover it back up and cook ‘em.”

  Mason cut in. “It’s a dry well, so the gasoline should burn off by itself and stay in the well.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  Mason looked at Gary. Gary looked back and shrugged. “No, but that’s the plan.”

  I shook my head and attempted to laugh. “OK, let’s get this over with.”

  * * *

  “Damn,” I grunted, as we all pushed on the cement slab. With only four feet of clearance under the trailer, it was hard to get any kind of leverage. Mason was breathing hard and Gary’s glasses fell off his face.

  “Hot as fuck down here,” Mason said, wiping sweat from his eyes.

  Finally the slab inched forward. Mason grabbed the flashlight, shining it in the opening.

  “Can’t see shit,” he whispered.

  “Not too much,” I instructed. “We don’t need one of those things shooting out at us.”

  Gary suddenly laughed out loud. Startled by the loud eruption, Mason reacted, knocking his head on the low ceiling underneath the trailer.

  Mason recovered, rubbing the top of his balding head. He looked at me, clearly frustrated, then glared at Gary. We both waited to find out what was so funny.

  Gary’s laughter quickly faded and he said, “Sorry, just reminded me of an old gag gift I got years ago. A fake peanut butter jar, one of those where you unscrew the cap and snakes shoot out at you.”

  “Nice!” Mason said. “Not the image we’re looking for right now, Gary.”

  “Audra used to hate that thing,” Gary continued, as if talking to himself.

  After refocusing, we pushed some more and the slab moved farther.

  Again, Mason shone the flashlight into the clearance. “I’ll be damned,” he said.

  “What?” Gary asked, sounding more than a little on edge.

  “They ain’t down there,” Mason said bluntly.

  “Bull shit, they have to be,” Gary countered. “Give me the flashlight and move over.”

  Mason did as he was asked and Gary peered into the well. “Shit!”

  “Let’s move this damn slab off. See what the hell is going on down there,” Mason instructed. “And go get me some rope.”

  “What for?” I inquired.

  “I’ll either use it to go down in the well or I’ll hang myself,” Mason said, looking around. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  I climbed out from beneath the trailer and headed to the shed. The wind was now gusting. Thunder echoed in the distance. As I looked around, trees were swaying and dust was spiraling off the gravel roads.

  I located the rope and returned to the well.

  Gary tied one end of the rope to a deck post and tossed the other end to Mason.

  “What the fuck?” Mason muttered. “How in the hell—”

  Gary shone the flashlight around the perimeter of the well. Nothing appeared.

  “Be car
eful,” I said to Mason. “Get back up here fast. I think we’re finally going to get that storm.”

  As if on cue, the first drops of a heavy rain echoed off the deck’s metal awning. The wind howled through the gaps in the skirting surrounding us.

  Mason looked up, and, for the first time, I saw fear in his eyes. Without wasting another minute, he slid into the well, feet first, and descended.

  Once he reached bottom, he turned on the flashlight and scanned the rocky walls. “Where the hell would they go?”

  As if answering his own question, he looked down at his feet, froze for a second, then bent to his knees. He shoveled dirt, stopped, and suddenly jumped up, as if he had hit a gas line.

  “Found them!” was all that he said.

  He kneeled once again, and displaced more dirt from where he had shoveled moments earlier.

  From the top of the well, it sounded as if Mason was talking to himself, although his voice wasn’t loud enough to interpret what he was saying.

  Gary grew impatient. “What’s going on, man?”

  Mason glanced up, squinted his eyes at the flashlight Gary had pointed at him.

  A smile crept on Mason’s bearded face. “Looks like Mother Nature has beat us to the punch,” he stated. Then he picked something from the ground, like a small root, and held it above his head.

  It looked like a piece of bone-white tubing, severed at one end. Gary centered the flashlight beam and the dried-up remains of a leech came into focus.

  “Put it down and get up here,” Gary said.

  The wind gusted. Thunder crackled, followed by a sub-sonic boom that shook the foundation.

  “This is all wrong,” Gary said softly. “This was meant to happen.”

  Before I could question him, I heard a creaking sound above.

  The warm darkness was suddenly replaced by cold light.

  The skirting began to peel away from the sides of the trailer. The wind gusted, blowing in a torrent of rain and yard debris.

  “What’s going on?” Mason yelled.

  I took the flashlight and shined it down on Mason who was still holding the severed worm-like creature above his head like some kind of sick trophy.

  “Oh my god,” Gary yelled beside me. “Put it down! Get up here. NOW!”

  Mason looked confused as a fine mist fell before his flashlight. He took one hand off the leech, wiped moisture from his face, and then grabbed the leech again. But before he could drop it, the thing twitched.

  “Shit!” Mason yelled.

  “Get the fuck up here!” Gary yelled again. “It’s not dead. It’s just dormant. The water is rejuvenating it!”

  Even from the top of the well I could see all color draining from Mason’s face.

  He brought his hands down, almost as if he was cradling the thing. But, instead, he inspected it, like some kind of hideous infant he had been lulling to sleep.

  The thing was gaining color, turning black.

  Another twitch and Mason let go.

  But the giant leech stuck there, its jaws now working, attaching to Mason’s arm.

  He tried to shake it off like it was bubblegum stuck to his hand.

  The thing undulated once, then twice. Blood now trickled from Mason’s palm. “Help!” he yelled, like a scared child, wide-eyed and pleading.

  Gary pushed me aside and scooted towards the mouth of the well.

  I grabbed his shirt and pulled him back. “Don’t do it!” I pleaded.

  “I’ve got to help him,” Gary replied.

  It was too late. As I refocused the flashlight, the vile black thing had split open Mason’s hand. His chest heaved as he pulled at the end of the leech. Some of its body was torn away as Mason threw it against the side of the well. He again pulled frantically at the mass, blood now spurting. He ripped more of the parasite free and tossed it aside.

  The pieces began to move around him.

  Mason raked his hand against the wall. Blood streaked the stone.

  “Oh God!” he yelled, digging deeply into his palm. He inspected his wrist and forearm and screamed. At the distance we were at, we couldn’t see, but could only imagine the horror of what Mason saw and felt.

  The parasite had found a new home.

  Mason stumbled around like he was drunk. His face contracted in pain, his eyes rolling back in his head. The flashlight clattered to the dirt floor.

  Gary drew back from the well, put his hands on his head, and panicked.

  The wind blew more skirting from the trailer.

  A flash of lightning cast an eerie glow into the well and there was more movement.

  I counted to three and then the thunder vibrated the deck above us.

  Mason’s wound was not clotting; his blood was literally pouring from his hand. He would surely bleed to death soon if the wound wasn’t treated.

  The movement drew my attention back into the well. The severed remains of the parasite were closing in on Mason. He scrambled up the wall, trying to hoist himself up, but he could not grip the rope with his injured hand. He fell back to the ground.

  Blood pooled around him.

  The mass converged.

  The blood seeped into the ground and then the entire soil beneath him began to move.

  Suddenly, something broke the surface. The light cast by the flashlight sent a flurry of shadows whipping throughout the well. The only image my mind could conjure of the thing that had surface was a severed deep sea tentacle maneuvering blindly for prey.

  The thing found what it was looking for. It coiled around Mason’s legs.

  Shocked, Mason lay beside it, looking around desperately. He tore off his shirt that was now covered with hundreds of little ravenous leeches. Others were already at neck level and climbing, each segment working its way towards his mouth, nose or ears.

  Mason stopped thrashing. He fell back against the wall. His struggles faded to silence. He just stared up at us without blinking. I wondered if his body had gone into shock, or if he had possibly died from a sudden heart attack or blood loss.

  The large entity lurched forward. It wrapped around Mason’s neck. He didn’t fight it; his dead stare showed me he had no fight left. The head of the thing crawled to the edge of his mouth, parted his lips and—

  I looked away.

  At least t hoped he was no longer suffering.

  I blocked the sickening thought from my mind.

  “Help me get this covered,” I said.

  Gary looked back at me with glossy eyes, appearing in shock himself. “I can’t leave him behind,” he said.

  “We don’t have a choice!” I yelled. “Now help me!”

  I pulled at the slab, but it was too heavy. Gary finally joined in the effort, but it still wouldn’t budge. Mason had been the strongest of all three of us and we had barely managed the slab before. Now it was impossible.

  I shined the flashlight into the well.

  There were leeches crawling closer.

  Farther below, Mason opened his eyes. He stood and cocked his head upward. Air hissed from his engorged mouth. And the movements he made were animal-like as he clawed at the wall, trying to ascend. He scrambled half way up the wall. I knew from watching him that he was no longer in control of his own movement. His emotions had suddenly changed. From frantic and scared to calm and focused. His eyes failed to blink even once as he attempted to scale the wall.

  The smaller leeches now avoided him.

  They were crawling towards us.

  “Get the gas!” I said as calmly as possible, hoping the tone would settle Gary enough to follow my orders. In one instant, our roles had somehow reversed, as now it seemed like I was the dominant one, in charge. And this seemed odd, even in this strangest of situations, because never in my life had I been a take-charge kind of guy. Especially when every rational thought led back to me running from this terrible scene unfolding, screaming madly into the raging storm.

  Gary didn’t move. He stared, transfixed by the surreal scene unfolding.

/>   “Don’t forget about Audra,” I said. “We need to take care of this before it’s too late.”

  Gary blinked. He took off his hat, ran his hand through his hair and pushed his glasses back onto his nose. Then he simply turned and crawled towards the perimeter. I was hoping he was going for the gas and not fleeing, but couldn’t be sure, knowing his current state of mind.

  I refocused on the scene in the well. The leech fragments were at the top now and I quickly mashed several with the end of the flashlight. They fell back into the well.

  One segment lurched forward, connected with the back of my hand. I felt tiny teeth shredding my flesh around a suctioned mouth. I pried it off, shook my fist back and forth until it, too, fell.

  I watched it descend, falling upon Mason’s shoulder. That’s when I noticed that the big burly man had stopped his movements and was just staring at me. His malformed head was cocked, as if he was looking right back at me. He seemed to be calculating a plan, as he reached down and grabbed the flashlight in one calm swipe. His bloody hand twisted one end until the light flickered to black.

  I centered my own flashlight beam on him. And I swear that grotesquely distorted face smiled.

  More earth moved below him as the bigger leeches appeared.

  A low guttural sound erupted from inside Mason, followed by a gurgling belch. Black vomit spewed from his mouth. The discharged mass slithered into a thousand maggot-sized chunks, each taking on a life of its own.

  The well was now swarming with the creatures.

  Gary returned with the gas can.

  “Douse it!” I yelled.

  “No,” he yelled back. “I’m not burning him alive!”

  “He’s already dead!”

  “He’s moving, for Christ’s sake,” Gary said, calming down. “We can get the leech out of him and save him.”

  Mason was climbing the wall, stone by stone, pulling himself up by the rope. Gary extended his hand into the well.

  I pulled him back. “Look at all the blood! Look at the way he has changed,” I tried to reason. “If you reach your hand down there, you’ll never see your daughter again. He’ll pull you down. You’ll be a host to whatever the hell those things are and I’ll fucking burn you both alive if I have to.”