by Dan Poblocki
AT THE WALL, Cassidy felt a slight wind blowing past them into the hole, as if a small vacuum was trying to pull them forward. “This is what it wants,” she whispered.
“Of course,” said Joey. “That’s why we’re here.”
“No. I mean, it’s making this really easy for us. Too easy. Just this morning, a bunch of zombies were chasing us. Now, it’s as if that never happened.”
“In the library,” said Ping, “we all heard a voice telling us to bring it back. If we are the it that the thing wanted, I guess we’re following its orders. Maybe it’s pleased with us.”
“If the beast wants to make this easier for us,” said Hal, “it’ll only be sorry later.” He stepped close to the crevice, waving for Joey to hand over the flashlight.
“Shh,” said Cassidy. “Don’t let it hear you. Don’t even think stuff like that.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll think about ponies and sunshine. That better?”
Cassidy nodded. “Actually, yes.”
A moment of silence settled between them, like a stone dropping into an otherwise still pool of water.
Hal sighed, but managed a smile. “I’m heading in. You guys stay close.” Joey handed him the flashlight. Hal turned sideways and squeezed into the opening. Ping went second, followed by Cassidy. Joey brought up the rear, keeping watch over his shoulder in case anything snuck in behind them. He held up his stick, swinging it back and forth like a tail.
The tunnel went on and on, its floor sloping steeply into the earth. Their only light was the one Hal was shining forward. It glistened off slick black rock, catching every now and again on flecks of silica, reflecting like stars in a foreign sky. The earth smelled sour, like low tide and the rot of fallen trees and burning leaves, the tang of it stinging their nostrils the deeper they went.
Cassidy kept her hands on Ping’s shoulders, stepping where she stepped so she wouldn’t trip and fall. Eventually, the walls of the cave grew wider, the ceiling higher, not by much, but enough so that the air was breathable, and there was space to think.
With every step farther down, Cassidy only wanted to be back at the Tremonts’ house, half asleep and tucked under the covers of Tony’s big bed, listening to the sounds of her host family getting themselves ready for the day. She wanted to imagine what Rose had planned for her and Joey tomorrow — she’d be happy even if it were digging ditches at the side of the highway. Anything but this.
Every few feet, the tunnel turned slightly to the right, as if spiraling into the earth. Cassidy tried not to imagine how far down they’d traveled or how much farther they’d have to go.
The humming sound had grown. Down in the tunnel, its echoing sounded like a large animal sleeping with a blockage in its throat. Snoring. This might have been soothing if Cassidy wasn’t positive that the beast was wide-awake and waiting for them to arrive. This humming was excitement. Pleasure. Like a cat purring.
Hal stopped short. Ping stumbled forward. Cassidy managed to catch herself before the entire group tumbled to the ground. “What’s wrong?” Joey whispered from the end of the line.
“This is … kinda weird,” Hal said, his voice cracking. Peering around one another, the group gazed farther into the tunnel. Hal held the light so it reflected off an object half buried in the dirt several feet ahead. Cassidy squinted and the thing came into focus: a plastic baby-doll head missing its glass eyes.
Hal bent down, and Cassidy whispered harshly for him not to touch it. He made no move to reach for the head; instead he seemed entranced by what he saw deeper in the darkness past the reach of his flashlight. “There’s more,” he said. “Look.” Stepping over the doll head, he swirled the light up to the top of the tunnel, then back down to the floor. Ahead, hundreds of items were shoved into the many small cracks and crevices of earth and stone — water-bloated books, rotting clothes, toys of all sorts, sheets of plastic, hunks of rusted metal, boxes of food, bedding … and what looked like several weathered bones, possibly human. They walked on, and the farther they went, the older the items became — broken furniture, wooden picture frames, corroded tools. Almost all of it was coated in thick layers of dust and cobwebs, untouched for what must have been decades. The cavern was becoming what appeared to be some sort of funhouse tunnel, built by a madman. The objects made up the entirety of the walls, ceiling, and floors.
“What is this place?” Ping asked.
“These are its treasures,” Cassidy said, feeling her skin shrink close to her muscle. “The ones it’s managed to hold on to over years, maybe even before the Chambers house landed on top of it. We’re getting closer.”
The humming sound vibrated the makeshift walls of the tunnel, rattling glass and metal and plastic.
“What if you just leave the pendant here,” said Joey, “with the rest of this stuff?” The light hit his face from below; his eyes looked wide and hollow.
Cassidy stared into the ring of darkness that continued down into the earth. “Because here isn’t the right spot.” She sensed the thing listening to them. “We need to give our gift face-to-face.”
Joey shook his head. “I’m not sure that thing even has a face.”
They were quiet for a moment. The humming continued, and Cassidy understood that if they stopped here, it would continue for a long time.
“You want to turn around?” Ping asked.
As if to answer her, from the tunnel behind them, they heard a rustling sound descending toward them. The dead had come out of hiding.
“HOLY …” JOEY CLOSED his eyes and sighed, his breath ragged, uneven. “This was a terrible idea. The worst idea.”
“We can’t stop now,” said Hal. “Not here.”
Cassidy raced to follow Ping even as the tunnel of junk began to enclose upon them. The deeper they traveled, the harder it was to step over the debris. Eventually, they ended up crawling on their hands and knees, trying unsuccessfully to avoid whatever looked sharp or jagged. They didn’t cry out but kept their pain quiet, as if they might still hide from the things that pursued them.
The humming was now so loud, it was as though it were coming from inside their skulls, like a terrible headache. The vacuum breeze that Cassidy had felt at the tunnel’s entrance was stronger down here, practically a wind pulling them forward. Every knocking sound or slithering resonance that echoed from behind pushed Cassidy along. Unwitting tears streaked her face; she ignored them and crawled on. The aroma of death and trash still swirled around them. Once or twice, she had to fight to swallow the bile that was creeping up her esophagus. That voice pulsed in her memory: Bring it back. She had no time to be afraid. No choice to turn back.
Rarely did that night when Lou broke down her mother’s door haunt her anymore, but now, his voice rang in her head, accompanying the beast’s. Everything that she’d recorded in her Book of Bad Things formed a segment of a dark tunnel in her mind, a mirror of her current flight. If running from Lou years ago had sent her into a downward spiral from which she’d only just begun to climb out, what would this little excursion do to her? Was this how people ended up insane — experiences like this? Was that how it had happened to Ursula? To her uncle Aidan, before her?
Something snatched at Cassidy’s backpack, the straps pulling at her shoulders, and she screamed. Her voice bounded up and down the passage. She twisted her body in the small space, trying to roll away from the thing’s clutches until she felt a warm hand on the back of her calf. “Stop,” Joey whispered. “You’re caught.”
She felt him reach past her, toward the roof of the tight tunnel. He released the fabric from what must have been something like a coat hook. Cassidy was free. Her skin burned hot; her lungs felt shrunken by half. “Th-thank you,” she said.
“No problem. Be more careful. And quiet.”
Grunts and growls sounded at their heels. The dead were catching up.
“Can’t you move any faster?” Ping pushed at Hal’s rear end.
Hal let out a yelp, then seemed to plunge away, taking the ligh
t with him.
“HAL!” PING CRIED OUT. Then, suddenly, she too dropped with a gasp into a void.
Cassidy froze. She could make out a ledge several feet ahead of her, past which a vast nothingness rippled like a dark pool. “What happened?” Joey whispered, frantic. “Where’d they go?”
“I dunno. I dunno. What do we do?” Were her friends hurt? Or worse? And was this her fault? She wanted to close her eyes and disappear. A simple wish. Down here, with the suctioning breeze and the voices and the vibrating air, it almost seemed possible. A dim glow illuminated the dark space beyond the ledge, and Cassidy brought herself back into her body. “Hello?” she whispered. “Is that you, Hal? Ping?”
What if it wasn’t them, but something else that knew how to glow in the darkness? She listened to Joey’s breath behind her. She hoped he still held onto the stick he’d taken from the driveway; she’d lost her own without even realizing it.
She eased toward the light and peeked over the edge. To her relief, she saw Hal and Ping lying at the bottom of a steep slope of even more garbage. They both whimpered in pain.
Ping sat up slowly, glancing up from where she’d fallen. She grabbed the flashlight that Hal had let go of during his tumble and shined it into Cassidy’s eyes. Cassidy waved for her to shine the light away, then slowly climbed down into what appeared to be an enormous room, a spherical cave, the edges of which were almost too far to properly discern. “Come on, Joey,” she said. “They’re okay.”
She began to make her way down the slope, stepping on stuffed animals, a surfboard, an antique writing desk. And bones. More bones. She tried not to think about that as she slid the last few feet to where Hal and Ping had landed. Seconds later, Joey crawled toward them from out of a blanket of darkness.
“Everyone all right?” Hal asked. The group huddled together in a makeshift nest of cardboard boxes, chips of wood, and the remains of some sort of flag.
Ping swung the light around, trying to get a sense of where they were. But the light wasn’t powerful enough to reach the ceiling of this new space. And in front of them was only more junk.
“What now?” Joey asked. “Is this it? The center of the vortex?”
“Looks like it might be,” said Ping. “But where is the … the beast?”
“It’s quiet,” said Cassidy, glancing around blindly.
“Too quiet,” said Ping.
“The humming stopped.”
Joey stood, shoving the point of his stick into the rubble at his feet. “Maybe it’s gone?”
The four listened to the new silence for a moment — only for a moment, because seconds later, the silence was broken by a rustling sound that came from all around them.
Ping swung the flashlight ahead to find that the piles of garbage were shifting. Or rather, Cassidy understood, something underneath the garbage was moving.
“GET BACK!” Cassidy shouted. “Toward the tunnel!”
Ping illuminated the path up the slope from which they’d come. But the dark patch where they’d emerged was filled with a round, pale face. Owen Chase reached out toward them with two filthy, fat arms, blocking the way. Cassidy didn’t need to see the others behind him to know that they were there. They hadn’t been chasing them in order to catch them. The dead had been pushing the group forward and had now sealed the tunnel shut. The exit was filled with their bodies, their grasping nails, their gnashing teeth.
Hal screamed. Everyone turned to him. Ping’s flashlight showed the loose papers and fabrics near their feet were being dispersed by the large thing that traveled just below the surface of debris. It moved through the garbage in a long line, coiling, swirling, spiraling, and roiling the mess all around them. The group backed into one another, forming a trembling column of flesh in the middle of the sea of waste.
As Cassidy watched the movement at the cavern’s floor, she noticed a length of the creature breach the surface, its body pitch-black and armored with luminescent scales like a giant snake. She remembered what she’d seen at the college library, the thing moving through the next aisle. The beast had sent a vision of itself to her when she’d been alone in the rows of bookshelves, when it had instructed her to Bring it back!
It. It. She was it. The beast imagined her as a mere object, something to own, to keep.
Its resonant voice filled the darkness now. This time, however, it shouted harshly, again and again: Mine! Mine!!! MINE!!!
Cassidy couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. She waited, paralyzed for the beast to fully emerge from below, wrapping its coils around all of them, squeezing. It wanted their lives, or at least their corpses. They were stupid to have come here expecting a chance to survive, to beat this thing. They would die in this fetid pit, and no one would ever know. Not Janet or Benji. Not Rose or Dennis or Deb or Tony. Not Levi Stanton. Not even her mother, Naomi, who might finally care what had happened to her only daughter, if only for curiosity’s sake. None of them would learn the truth.
Vaguely, she thought she heard someone calling her name, and only when Joey elbowed her in the ribs did she understand that he was trying to help her remove her backpack.
Of course! The pendant! The seal of protection. She’d forgotten the reason they’d come. Was it possible that the beast had stolen the thought?
She slipped her arms out of the straps. Joey held up the backpack. Cassidy undid the zipper and reached inside, feeling around for her book at the bottom. She pulled it out, opened to the page where the small package had been folded. The plastic baggie fell into her hand. Inside, the pentacle glistened in the ghostly glow of the flashlight. She tucked the notebook under her arm.
Her heart shuddered.
The object, wrapped up in plastic, looked so ordinary against her skin. This tiny thing was going to save them, the town, the world?
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO,” Cassidy said.
“I guess we should tell the beast what it means,” said Ping, glancing briefly at the ever-shifting floor. “Then offer it up.”
Tell the beast? How would that work? Umm, Mr. Beast. I have something to tell you…. Cassidy blinked, shook the ridiculous image away. Okay, Ping may be right, but would the beast listen?
MINE!!! Its voice rippled against her brain, filling the cavern … or her head, she couldn’t tell which.
Her hands trembling, Cassidy ripped open the baggie. The tiny links shivered as she lifted the chain from her palm. The star swung from it like a pendulum. Back and forth. Hypnotically. She tore her gaze away and turned toward the ocean of darkness and garbage.
Mine!!!
“Y-yes,” she muttered, trying to find her voice again. She spoke to the air, unsure where to focus. “This is for you.” She held up the chain with one hand.
“Say what it means,” Ping whispered. “What it represents.”
“Th-the star is an … ancient symbol of protection,” Cassidy said, remembering Ping’s own words and the passage from the library book. “This pendant will seal up this space and stop your … curse. It is our gift to you.”
The humming began again, that pleasure sound. Its tiny, pervasive vibration filled her body, every cell. Cassidy gagged.
Miiiiine, the voice whispered, as if finally satisfied.
Clutching the star pendant in her left hand, Cassidy swung the necklace back over her shoulder, then whipped it forward.
Ping followed it with the flashlight beam as it landed several dozen feet away, disappearing into the piles of trash. The thing beneath the garbage thrashed and swiveled, struggling to find the new gift amongst all of its others. After a few seconds it seemed to settle down next to it, pulling its coils in close, as if quieted after a meal. Mine, it whispered again.
Cassidy waited for something profound to happen. A clap of thunder. A flash of light. An earthquake. A booming voice. But nothing came.
In fact the room was as still as they’d first found it.
“I think it worked,” said Joey.
“Let’s get out of here,” Hal said, step
ping away from where Cassidy had tossed the star.
But back up the slope, Owen Chase howled at them from the tunnel entry, reaching toward them with his shattered fingernails and bruised skin.
“If the curse is broken,” Ping whispered, “then why is Mr. Chase still awake?”
Owen clutched at the sides of the tunnel, finally pulling himself forward. He tumbled onto the slope, spilling end-over-end toward them. His mother-in-law, Millie, appeared behind him. She too began to struggle out from the tight space.
“That’s the thing,” Cassidy said, her voice flat, her eyes wide. “I don’t think the curse is broken.”
Owen skidded to a stop several feet away, lifting his large round head, staring at them with milky eyes. He opened his lips in an oozing snarl.
“What do you mean?” Joey said, his voice rising, lifting the point of the stick to keep Mr. Chase at bay. The dead man swiped at Joey, lunging toward him. Joey whacked its shoulder. “You gave it that seal thing.”
“Yeah, I did,” Cassidy answered, distracted, scrambling away from Owen’s reach. “I guess it didn’t work.”
AN AVALANCHE OF TRASH spilled down the slope as Millie tumbled to the bottom. When she settled to a stop, she struggled to stand, to advance on the group. More sounds came from above. Ursula and Aidan were emerging from the tunnel as well. Soon, they too would be crawling down the incline.
Cassidy paid them little mind. She stumbled backward, twisting her ankle on something under her feet. When she’d righted herself, the group followed her, easing quickly away from the dead people.
The plan had failed. Their seal of protection was not going to protect them after all. Cassidy burned. How stupid could they be? The strategy had been flimsy, culled together from bits and pieces of magazine articles and a single article of academic folklore. Why had they thought that some random piece of jewelry would be powerful enough to kill an ageless evil beast, or to destroy what might be a portal to another world, another dimension where things such as ageless evil beasts existed?