by Glenn Rolfe
Eric awoke to the sound of thunder. He could still feel the power of the dream, the electrical current of the vision somehow following him into the real world. His sheets were soaked; strong with the scent of urine. He rose, dropping the wet sheet to the floor. The pitter-patter of rain tapped on the window before him. He walked over and split the heavy, green curtains. Lightning flashed beyond the sea of trees dressing the earth below. He spotted movement within the closest patch behind the back lot–the Rat. He was going to see what the little puke was up to. Maybe he’d put him into one of those holes he loved to dig so much. He wasn’t sure what his dream had meant, if anything, but he couldn’t feel her call for him at the moment. This temporary freedom carried with it a sense of abandonment–the hurt he’d felt as he tried to see her last night came around for a second swing, but this time, there was a budding rage there as well. He would take the anger with him down to the Rat’s little play land.
…..
The afternoon rain escalated from a soft hint to an unrelenting barrage without transition. Kenneth didn’t mind, he preferred the rain–it softened the dirt and made his task easier. He emerged through the swaying trees to the small clearing that served as his burial ground. The soil had already sunken in above the plot he’d made the other night. No matter. He wasn’t concerned with someone stumbling upon his bodies. They would never live to tell.
Stepping over the dead, he dropped to his knees twelve feet from his genesis grave and sunk his fingers into the earth feeling the already muddy particles packing beneath his fingernails. He hadn’t bothered wearing a jacket; it would have soaked through in seconds just like the rest of him. He piled clump upon clump of mud off to his right, his progress filling with the downpour as he went. He continued on, undaunted, getting lost in his directive.
…..
Eric moved through the trees, his presence hidden behind the powerful storm. Kenneth came into sight a few feet in. Eric watched from the tree cover as the scrawny geek clawed away at the ground. He wondered if the Ice Queen had already spoken to him. Had she sent the Rat on a mission and not him? Eric recalled his dream, the pain she had delivered, the mess he had made of himself. If she wasn’t going to use his talents because of this rain-drenched buffoon, he would just have to slim down her options.
Eric stepped from the shadows. Kenneth kept on digging. He walked right up behind the Rat as the drenched excuse for a man carried on playing in the mud. The thunder roared through the darkening sky as Eric reached down and wrapped his hands around the Rat’s neck.
…
Lee Buhl got up from the booth as Matt brought out the steaming hot pizza. “Sorry, can we get that boxed up?”
“Yeah, sorry, Matt. Something came up.” Jeff’s hands shook as he grabbed his sweatshirt.
“That’s fine,” Matt said. “You look a little pale, Jeff. You feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be all right. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I don’t know how you do those overnights, man. I’d be dead in a week. I’ll go grab a box and meet you at the register?”
“Sure,” Jeff said.
After Matt walked away, Lee could smell the lingering wave of cooked onions and green peppers. He looked over to Jeff. “Hey, I hate to do this to ya, but I left my wallet back in my car. Can you get this?” He watched Jeff’s brow furrow, if only for a second, then relax again as if he caught himself doing it.
“Yeah, I can pick it up,” Jeff said.
“Great. I need a smoke. Meet you outside?”
“Sure.”
Lee stepped out under the darkening sky; he thought the day looked infected like something had settled in and soiled it.
That would sound good in my next book.
No sooner than he got the cigarette lit, the rain began to fall. “Shit.”
Jeff came out holding the pizza box. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. We better get moving,” Lee said. The clouds let go all at once.
“Holy shit.” Jeff carried the large box over his head. He could already feel the warmth of the delicious pie trying to escape the bad weather. The rain came hard and fast.
“Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here,” Lee said. He pushed Jeff ahead of him.
“Where to?”
“Back to the bookstore. Back to my car. Go, go go.” He followed Jeff as they crossed the street and headed down another little road. Jeff stopped under the awning of a store with mannequins dressed in hippy garb in the window. “Go, go, and don’t stop,” Lee said, raising his voice above the rapid-fire deluge pelting everything beneath it.
They rounded the corner; Lee saw the Barnes and Noble across the street. He took the lead as they scooted between cars on Bell Street. His car was in the closest corner. He unlocked the doors and stopped. He watched Jeff surveying the soggy pizza box. “Ditch it. I don’t want that thing in my car,” he said. Jeff tossed the wilted cardboard to the ground and got in.
“Sorry I’m getting your seat wet,” Jeff said.
The thought of his leather seats cracking and looking like crap spilled over into his delivery. “Not much we can do about that now, is there?” He started the car, threw the wipers on high–though they were hardly able to keep up with the rain–and headed for the exit.
“Shit, wait.”
“What is it?”
“I left the books back at the pizza place.”
Of fucking course you did.
“Where are we going?” Jeff said.
“I gotta go back to my hotel and grab some stuff. We can dry out a little while you tell me everything you’ve heard about your hotel.”
“What about the books?”
“Don’t need ‘em,” he said, looking over at Jeff. “We’ve got you.”
…..
The moment the large mitts wrapped around his throat, Kenneth couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t yet see his attacker, but had a good idea who it was. He tried pulling free and only wound up helping close off his airway.
“No you don’t,” the big guy said through the storm. “I don’t know why she chose you, but right now, I don’t really care.”
Kenneth was seeing dots. He felt his eyes trying to fight their way from their sockets. He tried clawing at Eric with his dirt-filled nails, but the rain made it difficult to puncture through the big goon’s slick skin.
How is this happening? Where are you?
He managed to donkey kick the big guy in the shin, but still couldn’t break his grasp. Instead, Eric flung him backward slamming his head into the ground. A ringing resonated through his ears. The world began to drift from his sight and the rain threatened to drown him. His mind slowed as the world closed in upon itself.
…..
Eric continued squeezing long after the Rat stopped fighting. He finally let go when the puddle of water he was holding Kenneth’s head in was up to his wrists. His hands shook as the thought of what he’d just done and the ramifications it might have for him, crossed his dizzying mind. His world began to spin. He closed his eyes, placed his fists in the mud, leaned over, and took some deep breaths. After a minute, the feeling passed.
He grabbed the Rat and dragged his still body to the shallow grave the fool had managed to scratch out before meeting his fate. Eric considered pushing the sloppy mound sitting next to the hole over the ugly face staring back at him. “Fuck it. You’re not even worth a half-proper burial,” he said. He hacked up a glob of phlegm and spat. The yellowy wad landed just under the Rats left eye, the rain washed it away immediately. Nonetheless, Eric’s grin returned.
He tried the back door before realizing he’d forgotten his room key. He would have to go around to the front lobby. Soaking wet from head-to-toe, he lumbered around the side of the building. He watched a group of teen girls pile into a large van, their parents struggled behind them with a luggage cart. They paid him no mind as he passed them by. As the lobby doors opened, all of the residual giddiness from choking out the Rat dissolved, instantl
y replaced by a sense of dread at the sight of the girl they’d changed last night. The Ice Queen had stolen the body. Her hair was different, and her eyes–Eric tried to think of something to say. A voice screamed through his mind.
Shut your mouth, you look like a fool. Get up to your Goddamn room.
…..
Rhiannon stared at the big guy. He was the one Jeff had said was with Kenneth. He stood dripping wet, looking like he’d just been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Before she could ask him if he was all right, he bowed his head and took off for the stairs.
“Wow, that was weird. I bet you guys get a lot of that, huh?” the girl said.
Rhiannon wondered what the hell he had been doing out in the storm.
“Hey, are you okay?” the girl asked.
Rhiannon slowly came back around. “Yeah, uh…did…you still want me to come up to your room?”
“Actually, I forgot about something I had to take care of first. I’ll call you when I finish cleaning things up.”
Rhiannon didn’t say a word as the girl, Sarah, crossed the lobby and disappeared into the stairwell.
Ring, ring ring.
“Thank you for calling the Bruton Inn, this is Rhiannon speaking–”
“Hey, hey.” It was Jeff.
“Hey, what’s up? Where are you?”
“I’m at the Motel 6 in Hollis Oakes. Are you okay?”
“I’m…yeah, so far it’s been pretty quiet. Why are you at the Motel 6?”
“I met someone who’s interested in our…situation. We’ll be there in a bit.”
“Okay, see you in a few.” Rhiannon’s thoughts shot back to the girl, Sarah. She seemed familiar. She figured it was the girl’s A/C unit that was on the fritz, but she liked to at least make an effort to check things out before just switching her guests to another room. Sometimes they tipped you for going that extra mile. She wondered if Sarah would give her a tip.
Chapter Eight
“I haven’t read any of your books,” Jeff said. “What is it exactly that you do?” This guy seemed like a grade A prick so far, but if he was legit, they might need him.
“I’m an urban shaman.”
“Like a magic man or an Indian voodoo guy?” Jeff cringed, realizing how stupid he sounded.
“Not exactly, but sort of. We’re healers, for the most part. Defenders of the mind, body, and spirit,” Lee said as he buttoned up a dry shirt. In his first real act of kindness, the guy threw Jeff sweatpants and a t-shirt. “Put those on. They’re the only non-dressy clothes I have with me.”
“Thanks.” Jeff peeled off his soaked sweatshirt and undershirt. The t-shirt Lee had thrown him had the words One of these days I’m gonna get organezized scrawled across the front. Jeff recognized it instantly. “Taxi Driver, right?”
“Sure. I guess. A fan left it in my room in Denver a few weeks ago.” Lee sat on the edge of the bed, replacing his socks. When he was finished he shook another smoke free from the pack on his bed and lit it.
That figures. He doesn’t seem cool enough to know who Travis Bickle is anyway. He held the sweatpants Lee threw him and considered how he was soaked all the way through. “Uh, I don’t have any dry underwear,” Jeff said.
“Keep ‘em,” Lee said, waving his hand at the sweats. “You go commando in ‘em, they’re yours.”
“Thanks,” he said. He shuffled by Lee and went into the bathroom. The guy must have been the cheapest bastard Jeff had ever encountered, and working in the hotel business, you run into more than your share of tightwads. This guy took the cake, no doubt. Jeff wondered what the girls would think about the guy. They’d probably think he was attractive. For the first time today, he thought about Kurt. What if this, whatever it was, had affected Kurt?
Kurt’s dead.
He still couldn’t believe it, but Rhiannon had said she heard him flat lining before she was chased out of the room by…something. Maybe it was possible that they had saved him. Maybe he was–
Bang, bang, bang
“Hey, what are you doing? Jerking off in there? Come on.”
Jeff regained his composure, and opened the door. “Sorry, I was thinking about someone.”
“That’s usually how it works,” Lee said, lighting another smoke.
Jeff ignored the comment, moving toward the kitty-cornered desk. There was a wicker basket sitting on top. He reached for the lid.
“Don’t touch that!” Lee said.
Jeff jumped, startled by the sudden outburst. “I… I wasn’t. What’s in it?”
Lee placed himself between Jeff and the basket. “Those are my tools of the trade, so to speak.”
“Sorry,” Jeff said.
“Here, hold this.” Lee handed him the cigarette. Jeff took hold of it, not quite sure how to handle it. He’d never smoked cigarettes. He went with the pinching technique, holding it between his thumb and forefinger like a joint. They hadn’t allowed smoking at the Bruton Inn since the early nineties. These rundown, side of the road motels always had a handful of ashtray smelling rooms. It finally dawned on him why Lee would choose the dump.
“Let’s talk a little more about that inn of yours.” Lee carried the basket over to the bed. Setting it down, he lifted the lid and produced a bundle of green stuff. Jeff thought it looked like a bundle of grass and weeds. Lee slipped his lighter back out of his pocket and flicked the wheel. A flame burst to life. Lee watched it burn for a few seconds before blowing it out. The earthly aroma immediately began to search its way through the room.
“Is that incense?” Jeff said, feeling less stupid, but having a feeling he was wrong again.
“It’s a smudge stick.” Lee watched the trail of smoke pirouetting up into the air. “It’s a collection of herbs–sage, mugwort, and some others.”
“What’s it supposed to do?”
“It’s not what it’s supposed to do. It’s what it does,” Lee said. Jeff sensed he had stepped on the guys feelings again. “Since I arrived here for the book signing, I’ve felt something trying to get to me.” This got Jeff’s attention. “I haven’t determined whether it is good or evil, but there’s definitely something that knows I’m here. Either way, this is my protection.”
Jeff wasn’t sure if it was the collective of incidents or all the shaman mumbo jumbo, but at the moment he felt something bad, too. He thought of the dead guy in the new swimming pool, the elderly couple from the other day…Kurt. He thought of Rhiannon and Meghan alone at the hotel. “We have to go,” rushing over to the phone by the bed.
“What are you doing?” Lee said.
“I have to call Rhiannon. I have to tell her to get her and Meghan out of that place.”
“Hold on,” Lee grabbed his arm. “Settle down. Breathe. How far is it from here?”
“It’s only like half an hour or so, maybe longer in this weather.” Jeff pulled his arm free.
“Listen to me,” Lee said, grabbing him again before he could pick up the phone. “You’re panicking, you’re not thinking straight. You need to clear your mind.”
“I need to warn my friends.”
“They’ll be all right.”
“You don’t know that,” Jeff said.
“We need to be prepared. If the presence I’ve been feeling around me is there, it’s powerful. For me to be picking it up this far away, it may well take all that we can manage to stop it. You called her, your friend, when we got here. You told her we were coming.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t…I wasn’t convinced we were really up against something. I mean, I thought–”
Lee gripped his shoulders tighter and shook him, staring into his eyes. “You are walking the right path. There is something supernatural going on at your hotel. Okay? What I need to know from you right now, this very minute, is what you intend to do.”
Jeff felt dizzy. Thinking of the rumors, the ghosts, the shadows housekeepers whispered about seeing in the corners of rooms, guests complaining about knocking and voices from rooms next to them that w
ere supposed to be empty…
“Jeff, are you willing to stand up to this, or are you going to run.”
“I…want to help Rhiannon and Meghan.”
“I’m going to need more than that.”
Jeff’s stomach was twisting in a swell of anxiety and fear. Horror books were one thing, dealing with this shit in real life… He broke free from Lee’s grasp, making it to the toilet just in time to watch his morning coffee splash into the white bowl. He’d been scared plenty of times in his life, but he‘d never considered himself a coward. Part of him wanted to go home and just start searching for a new job on Monday. There was a tiny voice in his head just below that one saying that he didn’t really know Rhiannon and Meghan all that well. That he should just call them, warn them, and let them decide what they wanted to do for themselves.
“Jeff, I’m going to need your help,” Lee said from the doorway behind him.
Jeff stared into the brown pool of coffee and stomach fluids. He wanted to run. He knew it was wrong, but he didn’t want to go back there.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but there are things that are not of this world. Whatever resides at that hotel has been around for a while. I’ve read up on some things. The Bruton Inn has been cursed since it first opened.
Jeff wondered how this was supposed to sway him.
“You are already stronger than most. You have accepted its reality. You know it is there. Some of these spirits prey upon nonbelievers, the ones who lie to themselves even in the face of such things. That weakness is what feeds these spirits. I sensed in you an inner strength. I can feel it now. Come with me. Stand with me.”