by J. Thorn
Ravna bit his lip, feeling nothing he could say would change Jasper’s mind.
“Well, I got some cleanup work to do and gotta check in on yer little tart up there. I’m guessing the boss is busy and that we’ll be dealing with you in a few days. Not sure I’m going to be able to sleep, tell ya the truth. I love play dates.” Jasper turned and headed up the stairs, leaving Ravna to his wounds and his overreaching imagination.
Thursday, September 5th
“When this is done, I’m coming for you, Jasper. You need to know that, you redneck son of a bitch.”
Jasper’s fist flew from his side and connected with the side of Ravna’s face. It made a wet, smacking sound.
“Enough.” The single word came from the bottom of the steps, where Gaki remained, watching the events unfold.
“They’s all yours, boss,” Jasper said, shaking his hand in the air, opening and closing fingers still stinging from their contact with Ravna’s skull. “You want me upstairs?”
“I want you here,” replied the creature. “These will be different. You shall take part this time.”
Ravna looked at Karen tied to the chair, her head rolling back and forth on a rubbery neck. Maybe it was better that she remained in a haze of drugs. Jasper held up both hands and stepped away from her, dropping onto the bottom step and fishing the can of snuff from his pocket.
“On the sidelines and ready for action, coach.”
Ravna sneered, disgusted by the lighthearted nature of Jasper’s tone.
“You knew we were not finished,” Gaki said. It looked into Ravna’s eyes, waiting. Ravna pulled back from the creature’s stench; the hot breath blowing on his face made him sick.
“You killed Drew. The man in the asylum, the one who scrawled my name in his own blood, that wasn’t Drew.”
“He became a container, a manifestation of me that had to exist in that time and place,” replied Gaki. “You understand why I could not show myself as I truly was.”
Ravna looked at the creature and shook his head.
“Drew let me in,” Gaki continued. “Night after night, he invited me into his realm until it became mine. He could have refused, pushed me aside and left the past to rot. But he did not. He went down that path of his own accord.”
“Like me? Bound to a chair, beaten, and threatened with the harm of someone I love? What did you do to Drew to get him to comply?”
Gaki waved a hand at Jasper before turning back to Ravna. “He is nothing but good fortune. His mind is too weak to inhabit. He lacks the creative impulses to govern the realm. But you, you shall provide fertile ground for Gaki.”
“I won’t let you in,” replied Ravna. “No matter what you do, I won’t let you in.”
“I have made contingencies for that,” said Gaki, turning to Jasper. “Remove the bonds on her.”
“Hot damn! Show time,” said Jasper as he removed a buck knife from his belt and sliced the rope from Karen’s wrists and ankles. Her limp body slid to the floor. As if through instinct, she pulled her knees up to her chest and pulled them in with both arms.
“Don’t. Not her. This is between you and me,” Ravna said.
Jasper came across his face with a backhanded slap. “This is my play date. Shut the fuck up.”
Gaki stood over Karen, his black tongue licking the air like a serpent. “Should you decline, I will use her.”
“No!” Ravna screamed as Gaki stepped between Karen’s legs and used his tubular arms to spread them.
He lowered himself over her, and Ravna looked away while Jasper stared. Gaki’s mouth moved as his dark eyes peered at Karen’s naked, broken body.
“Go fuck yourself,” said Ravna.
“I ain’t fuckin’ myself tonight,” said Jasper, “now that the boss gonna give me a shot at her.”
Gaki smiled at Ravna, his head slowly turning toward Jasper, who dropped his overalls to the floor. He tossed his baseball cap aside with a wad of tobacco juice from the corner of his mouth.
“Let me in, and I’ll keep him from defiling her,” said Gaki.
“C’mon, boss!”
Gaki looked at Jasper, making him freeze in his place. “Let me in, and she dies a quick death.”
Ravna stared into the creature’s eyes. He could feel the eons of pain residing behind them, generations cursed and corrupted from the inside out. “It ends here. I can’t let it continue,” he said.
“It is not in your power to control,” replied Gaki before nodding to Jasper.
Karen moaned as Jasper bent down and licked the side of her face, leaving a trail of tobacco leaf on her cheek.
“Wait,” Ravna said.
Gaki held up his hand again, his face inching closer to Ravna’s. Ravna thought again of Mashoka, his friend. He thought of the sacrifice he had made and realized it would all be in vain if Gaki escaped the confines of the basement.
“I want a smoke,” Ravna said.
Gaki hissed. He moved slowly away and nodded at Jasper.
“Fuck y’all! You said I’d get my piece, and I’m tired of waiting.”
Gaki did not respond. He stood and stared at Jasper.
“Fine. You goddamn son of a bitch. All I got in the truck is a stogie. And it’s a cheap one, at that.” Jasper pounded up the stairs like an insolent teenager.
“Untie me,” Ravna said to Gaki.
The creature looked at him as if considering the request.
“It doesn’t matter now, does it? You took out your insurance plan, and you’re going to let the piece of shit have his go at her. Fucking untie me so I can die with dignity.”
Jasper returned, holding a cheap, crumpled cigar in one hand and a lighter in the other. He tossed both to the floor at Ravna’s feet.
“Remove his bonds, leave us, and lock the door. I shall call to you when it is your turn to partake.”
Ravna looked at Karen and then back to Gaki.
“You said I’d get my piece,” Jasper said, the anger burning through his hateful stare.
“You will, on my command.”
Jasper mumbled to himself as he sliced the bonds from Ravna’s ankles and wrists. He tossed the rope to the ground, spit at Gaki’s feet, and ascended the steps. When he pulled the door shut, the basement succumbed to the darkness. Gaki stood out, the creature’s pale skin glowing in the light filtering through the glass block window.
Ravna stood, his feet giving way as he crashed to the floor. He reached for the cigar and lighter while his eyes scanned the corners of the basement for the gas meter he knew had to be there. As if his senses had aligned, he smelled the invasive odor at the same time he saw the meter behind the old furnace.
“The thing about these old houses is that nobody cares about them,” he said.
Gaki stood motionless as Ravna stood with the lighter in one hand and the cigar in another.
“A bank forecloses, the city condemns the place, but who’s following up? Nobody. That’s a problem.”
Gaki shifted, the creature now moving toward the stairs as Ravna shuffled toward the opposite corner.
“I could smell it as soon as I got down here, even over your rotten filth. I’m sure the fucking redneck couldn’t smell anything beyond his own foul body odor and that chaw he’s always spitting. But I did. It started making me sick, and then I realized it might be my only salvation. Our salvation,” said Ravna, glancing at Karen. “It’s been building up within the walls for days, maybe months. It’s not huge, but over time, shit adds up. The stuff you hide behind the walls can’t remain hidden forever, can it?”
Gaki growled and began moving up the steps.
“Oh, you might as well wait right there. You can’t outrun it. The hillbilly upstairs? He’ll never know what hit him. In a way, I wish he would. But then again, I’m not the monster, am I?”
Ravna flicked the flint on the lighter, the spark snapping from his hand. Gaki winced.
“They used to tell you to not even use the phone. The spark caused by the old rotary dialer
s would be enough to ignite the leak. With the amount of gas leaking from that corroded meter, the next flick from this lighter could do it.”
The door opened, and Jasper took two steps down into the basement. “What the fuck, Gaki? Finish him.”
“Where’s that southern hospitality, Jasper? What happened to your ‘aw, shucks’ attitude? We’re about to have a party. Come on down!”
Jasper looked at Gaki and then came the rest of the way down the stairs to stand next to the creature.
“I’m sorry, honey. I had dreams for us. But it’s better this way. The evil has to end here.”
Karen blinked, smiling at Ravna and nodding.
“I love you, Karen.”
Jasper launched his body forward. After eavesdropping on the conversation and seeing Ravna with the lighter, he knew what was coming. Gaki remained motionless, his arms tucked to his side and his tiny mouth closed. With Jasper’s hand outstretched and reaching for the lighter, Ravna drew his thumb down on the igniter while holding down the button to release the butane. The spark caught, creating a thin, blue flame that hovered above the hole. Ravna closed his eyes as he inhaled, lighting the end of the cigar with a cherry-red tip. Before Jasper could reach his arm, Ravna tossed the lit cigar at the meter and fell to the ground. The flame caught the natural gas that had been leaking into the basement, and the fuel exploded, consuming the room in a fiery ball of hell, blowing the ceiling outward. The gas trapped within the walls ignited as well, throwing plaster, wood, and the remains of lost souls across the abandoned neighborhood. Within seconds, nothing remained of the house but a smoldering pile of ash and debris.
Episode 4
Thursday, September 5th
The bell shook Doug from a shallow sleep. He felt the ache in his bones and rolled out of the bunk to grab the two-way off the nightstand.
So much for finishing the shift in my bed, he thought.
He peered across the room to where Frank sat on the edge of his bunk, twirling the ends of his mustache with two fingers.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said to Doug.
“What’s the call?”
“Possible 10-80. Time to get your boots on, son.”
Doug ran a hand through his hair and touched the picture of his wife and kids perched on the edge of the nightstand behind an army of aspirin bottles. “It couldn’t have waited five more hours, eh?”
Frank shrugged. He stood and grabbed a pair of suspenders from the chair and hobbled down the steps. Doug wondered whether it was his knees that were cracking or the old steps. He followed the veteran down to the kitchen, where the men were already warming the engines and pulling up the doors.
“Rescue squad is out, Sarge,” a young firefighter said to Doug. “Call East Fallowfield?”
Frank began to respond and then pulled back. The transition was not becoming any easier. He could not imagine how he would cope if he had despised the new shift commander.
“Got no choice. Ring their bell,” Doug replied, throwing a shrug at Frank as if hoping that was the right move.
The old man sensed his need for approval and spoke up. “Sarge is right. Gotta ring ’em.”
The young man ran down the hall to dispatch while the lights came alive in the garage. The crew would bring the engine and the aerial ladder and hope they wouldn’t need either. Doug looked at the oil stain on the cement floor where the rescue squad would normally be parked.
Got to have them scrub that out next shift, he thought. A good leader pays attention to the details.
“Ladder company ready to pull out?” Frank asked Doug while dangling his mask from his left hand. “I sure as hell ain’t cuttin’ a hole in no roof no more.” He winked.
Doug turned and saw the massive rigs pulling out of the garage and ran past Frank. He grabbed his gear and his bottles, which would not fit on his back during the ride. Eddie and Sal were in the cab with the ladder, and Frank made for the passenger side of the engine. He had to stop halfway, turn, and come back to drive the rig. Decades of routine would not easily be broken. Doug watched and felt a mix of empathy and inevitability. Someday, they would all be Frank. Their physical and emotional scars would catch up with them, and the company would be forced to move them out to pasture. Doug knew Frank had two years left before he could retire but that they would be the two longest years of his career. It was still Frank’s fire house, no matter what title he now had.
“Fall is coming,” Frank said as Doug grabbed the radio from the dashboard. “Know what that means?” he asked.
Doug shook his head, preparing for an answer he would never expect anyway.
“Cider. Mountain cider.”
Doug nodded as he flipped the switches. The pulsing lights bathed the empty sidewalk in reds and whites while the whine of the siren broke the night’s silence.
***
“412 Maple Street?” Doug asked, spitting into the radio. “Can we let that fucker burn to the ground?” He asked the question as a joke, but if the city kept making budget cuts, it would not be a joke for much longer.
“Near the company town, in those abandoned shitholes. I love risking my life for rats and beer bottles,” Frank added.
Doug smiled at his sarcasm as Frank drove the engine down the empty streets and through the twisting roads. Doug thought of the stories his father used to tell about the bustle of the mining community and the way the company took care of those men. They had built the houses, an extended family. And like a rotten divorce, when the company died, so did the family.
“We got a rescue squad joining us?” Frank asked.
“I’ll check,” Doug replied.
He clicked the button on the radio again and heard squawking. As he listened to the mutual-aid calls going out, his mind drifted. Doug thought of Taylor and the kids, of their future. In a way, he was envious of Frank. The man had given the bulk of his life in service to this town, and he would have the opportunity to gracefully bow out. Doug had to wonder whether there would even be a town when he was ready to retire, let alone a pension to live on. The kids would be looking at colleges in less than ten years, and he hoped to have the ability to apply for financial aid. That usually required a job, one that earned more than minimum wage at the Burger Shack.
“Yep. East Fallowfield,” said Frank as the response came over the radio, breaking through Doug’s thoughts about his family’s future.
“Is that Bella and Steve?”
Frank nodded.
“He’s such a prick,” Doug said.
Frank laughed and rolled his window down further. He spat and twirled his mustache again.
“Him and Taylor was done long before you two hooked up.”
“I ain’t even talking about that,” replied Doug, knowing full well that he was. “Taylor and I put their relationship behind us a long time ago.”
“Yep,” replied Frank. “Taylor sure did.”
Doug’s gaze passed across the rows of houses as Frank turned the rig down Main Street. The remains of the mining company and its factory stretched into the night sky like fingers clawing from the grave. Smoke stacks that had once billowed unbridled waste sat atop structures covered in graffiti. The broken windows gaped like open sores on the external facade. Doug had forgotten how desolate and sad this place made him. He tried to block out his childhood memories, but every time they answered a call down here, he saw his ten-year-old self pedaling down the sidewalk toward the Dairy King and a tall, chocolate milkshake.
“I don’t see rescue. Find out what Eddie and Sal are going to do with the ladder.” Frank said.
Doug nodded and barked into the radio.
As Frank drove the engine toward the center of the neighborhood, Doug began to see the orange glow rising above the rooftops of the vacant houses. Smoke billowed out, making the entire scene look like a distorted sunrise. The overpowering odor of burning plastic invaded the cab of the engine, along with the unmistakable scent of natural gas. The dry air of late summer had evaporated most of the rain
that fell earlier in the week, not making their job any easier.
“Anyone touch base with Mountain Energy?”
Frank shook his head. He smelled it, too. “Fuck. Are we going to have to wait for those douchebags to get to the valve? It took them fifteen fucking minutes last time.”
Doug shook his head. He felt the same as Frank. Every second they had to wait for the gas company to reach the shut-off valve was another one where they were risking their lives. He could not understand why they hadn’t shut off the entire neighborhood. Nobody had lived there for years.
“Let’s hope their man is on the roads like he’s supposed to be and not parked behind Lenny’s Diner with some drunken whore. Either way, we gotta follow protocol.”
Doug nodded at Frank and slammed the radio back into its holster. The aerial ladder pulled alongside the engine as both rigs approached the fire, but Doug could not detect the sirens of East Fallowfield’s rescue squad over their own. He hoped they were on the way. “If this is what I think it is, I’m not crazy about going in shorthanded.”
“You think I am, Doug?”
Before he could respond, the scene opened up in front of the engine. Doug saw the gaping hole where a house used to be, and saw the flames engulfing the rubble and licking the houses on each side.
“Shit,” Frank said.
Doug nodded, feeling as though Frank’s description said it all.
***
The weeds had crawled through the sidewalks, reaching higher every spring, curling around the hydrants like thin snakes. As fall approached, they would have a few more weeks’ reprieve before winter knocked them back toward the soil. Blue shopping bags fluttered in the mild air, stuck on the rusting, chain-link fence still standing in several places on Maple Street. Doug looked around, feeling the instinctual security of the valley. He felt the protective draw of the mountains, as had those before him as well. Unfortunately, nothing could have saved them from the economic ruin and subsequent mountaintop-removal projects that eventually killed the place. All of those sore memories dissipated as soon as he put his eyes on the scene. Doug’s years of training and experience kicked in as he opened the door of the engine and slid down to the asphalt. Frank had done the same from the driver’s side. The old man took a moment to look at the situation.