by David Wood
“It's coming.” she said, the words barely over a whisper and spoken in rapid succession. “It's coming, it's coming, it's coming.”
“What's coming?” He pulled back. She didn't react to him, and instead kept up her urgent whispering. He grabbed her shoulders again and gave them a good shake. “Maya, snap out of it!”
She continued ignoring him, muttering all the while. He shook her harder, which made her head loll around, but her eyes remained glassy. Feeling like he had no choice, he pulled his right arm back to give her a hard smack across the face in hopes it would shock her back to consciousness, but before he could do it she sucked in a quick breath and looked around in sharp glances. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
“What happened?” she asked when her eyes settled on Kyle. “Why... Why am I on the ground? Are you about to hit me?”
Wondering what she meant, he looked down and realized his hand was still pulled back. He lowered his arm and grunted. “You were in a...I don't know how to describe it...like a seizure or something.”
“A seizure?” Maya's light brown color returned, but worry etched her face in deep lines.
“I'm no doctor, but that's all I can think of. You shouted and stumbled, and then you started mumbling to yourself and breathing like you were running a marathon.”
Maya checked her pulse at her neck for a few seconds “I remember feeling...something come over me, feeling like I'd fallen off the edge of the world, and then I saw you with your hand up ready to smack me. What was I mumbling? Did you hear it?”
“Yeah.” Gooseflesh rose up Kyle’s arms, and he stroked them as though warding off a chill. “You said, 'It's coming,' over and over again.”
Maya's eyes and lips screwed up in confusion. “It's coming? What's coming?”
“I have no idea, but I don't think it's good.”
“Why do you say that? Did you feel something too?”
Kyle wished he could answer no, but he couldn't. He didn't understand what had happened, or what it meant, but he knew lying about it – even to himself – wasn't going to help. “About a second after you stumbled, I felt this terrible sensation of falling come over me. Going over the edge of the world is close enough, but when it happened you described it more like we were being swallowed, and that's even closer. It was horrible. I felt lost and alone and powerless, like I was being consumed. But then it went away as quick as it hit me. With you...it lasted a little longer.”
“I imagine it did,” Maya replied, the confusion on her face changing to sadness.
Her words struck Kyle strangely. “What do you mean?”
Maya looked at him and chewed the inside of her mouth for a few seconds. “Back when you drove up the mine to talk to your dad I felt something terrible all around us, like a…a cloud of evil. When you left me in the Jeep it got worse. Then, like now, I felt like I was falling into some terrible monster as big as the world. This time it was so overwhelming I almost lost myself to it. If you felt it too, then something really bad is happening. If we're going to figure out what's going on, I'd say let's do it quickly. The sooner we're off this mountain, the better.”
Agreeing wholeheartedly with her, Kyle nodded and led them forward again. A minute later they came to a clearing on the side of the mountain. On a good summer day it would have made for a nice view, with rising mountains on the left and a flowing river down on the right, but heavy cloud cover and rain diminished visibility and turned everything slimy and gray.
“Is that why we came out here?” Maya asked, pointing to their left.
Kyle followed her gesture to a hole in the mountain. Broken lengths of wood lay scattered around the area with nails peeking up from them. “Yep, this is it. They used to use this for ventilation before the coal seam turned east and they had to dig out a new one. The last time I was here this had been boarded up tight, which is why I brought the crowbar, but it looks like someone already broke it open for me. This, though... this is new.”
He pointed at two lengths of pipe stretching from the entrance like fat metal snakes and running down to hang over the river embankment thirty yards away. Dark liquid poured from the ends of the pipes and fell into the river just a few feet below. Kyle's stomach flip-flopped at the sight of the river being polluted.
“What are the pipes for?” Maya asked.
Kyle walked over and bent down to take a look. The pipes, which were made of galvanized steel, were approximately a foot in circumference, and from a rough guess he figured the two runs were composed of twenty-foot lengths joined together with soft iron connectors and soldered. Putrid globs of dark fluid saturated the ground at the joints like oil spills. The smell of it pushed him back.
“I have no idea.” He pulled up the neck of his shirt to cover his mouth and nose. “Shoddy work too. Look at these weld points. They've got...whatever this stuff is...leaking from the joints. And there aren't any anchors to keep it secure. Whoever put these here didn't give a shit about safety or codes.”
“But what is that stuff?” Maya pointed at the black water gushing into the river. She took a step back from the pipes, her face losing color again. “It feels…evil.”
Kyle stared at the ends of the pipes in confusion. “I know it’s not coal sludge. That stuff's at the plant where the coal is processed, which is far from here. All that should be coming out of the mine is rock and coal. Well, unless they hit some kind of cavern or cave system.”
The sound of his words barely died down when rocks scattered behind him followed by a very distinctive metal click. He'd been paying too much attention to the mystery of the pipes and had forgotten the greater reason for why they were there, and because of that someone had gotten the drop on them.
“That's a damn good question,” a voice said. “It's too bad you'll never get the answer to it.”
Chapter 15
Screams ripped through the darkness like black lightning, dragging Taylor up from the depths of unconsciousness. She awoke on her side, rough ground pressing into her left hip and arm. When another scream tore the black she shoved herself up and scuttled away from the sound as quickly as her hands and heels could carry her. After a few shuffles a jagged wall slammed into her back and the base of her skull. Explosions of light erupted in her eyes like fireworks from the pain. Bile rose in her throat, and she had to lean over to keep herself from passing out.
“Somebody help us!” a ragged voice shouted. “Anybody!”
Taylor didn't recognize who it was. Then again, she had no idea where she was or what had happened. When she tried to remember the previous few hours, all she saw was a series of images that didn't make sense. The last real memory she had was getting out of her brother's car angry as hell and slipping into her room. After that, she saw only a montage of shadows and panic. If she'd woken up with her bed beneath her she'd have considered it the worst nightmare she ever had, but the comfort of her mattress and sheets were nowhere to be found. It was still a nightmare, but now it was one she was living.
“Why are they doing this?” another voice asked. This one was on the other side of her, closer, and distinctly feminine. She didn't recognize it either, but it seemed a tad more familiar than the previous voice.
“Because they're fucked in the head!” a male voice shouted. “I don't know if you saw who took you, but I saw my dad when he came for me, and he looked crazy, man. Crazy as shit. His eyes... It was like they were gone.”
His words hit Taylor like a kick to the chest, and a memory rose up in her mind, a memory of her dad grabbing her, of his hands spreading like a tree's shadow over her, and his empty eyes so black and yawning. Another wave of nausea buffeted against her, and she opened her mouth to retch. Nothing but gasps of air came out.
“Who's that?” the first voice asked, her words shot out like she'd been hit with a cattle prod. “Who's puking? God don't make me puke too! Shit!”
“I'm not...” Taylor stopped to catch her breath. The dark felt like it had weight and pressed down on her. A nasty
smell like an overflowing septic tank hung in the air, and her throat trembled in another bout of phantom gagging. The confusion and fear hovering over everything only made it worse. She knew if she started shaking she wouldn't stop until every atom in her body fell apart, so she curled her hands into fists and hit them against the ground as hard as she could. Pain flashed through her hands and arms, but it was better than the fear. It helped her focus, center herself, and she needed that. Finally she felt able to speak. “I'm not puking. I was just... I hit my head, and I don't know how I got here, and...What the fuck?”
Masculine laughter tumbled into the dark, but there was little humor in it. “Yeah, what the fuck.”
Try as she might, Taylor couldn't place the voice. “Who is that? Who's here? I'm....uh, I'm Taylor Mason.”
“I know you,” the male voice replied. “I sit behind you in English.”
“Brett Sobel?” A light went off in her head as she associated the voice with a face. Brett was a junior, like her, and he played on the football team. He'd seemed nice enough – for a sweaty jock – but he didn't talk much, which was probably why she didn't recognize his voice.
“Yeah. My little brother Alex is here too.”
“Hey,” a small voice said, the black making it seem even smaller.
Taylor turned toward where she'd earlier heard someone speak. “Who else is here?”
“Like it matters,” the first female voice said, still ragged. “We're all gonna die.”
“Shut up, Shelly!” the more familiar voice yelled, her words echoing painfully off the rocky walls. “Jesus Christ!”
Stillwater was a small town, and Taylor only knew of one Shelly in it who's voice could be young enough to match what she heard – Shelly Harris. Shelly's best friend was Hannah Gould, which sparked a connection in her head.
“Shelly and Hannah, that you?”
“Yeah,” Hannah replied, a catch in her throat adding a hitch to the word.
All kids, Taylor thought. What are a bunch of kids doing in the dark?
To see if anyone knew the answer to that, she asked, “What's going on? Who brought us here?”
“I have no fucking idea,” Shelly said. “One minute I'm laying down to go to bed, and the next thing I know I'm here and my head is pounding. I think I was drugged.”
“How long have you been here?”
“A couple of days.” Shelly didn't sound entirely certain, but Taylor couldn't blame her. “It's hard to tell when all you've got is the dark. Sometimes I'd hear what sounded like a door or something move, and then a plate of food would be dropped in front of me, or a bottle of water, but whoever brought it never said anything. I think I had two plates plopped down before Brett and his brother were tossed in with me.”
“They said I was brought in just after them.” Hannah sounded at her wit's end, a hair away from breaking down into either sobs or a crazed, murderous fury. “I think it was my uncle who... I've been living with him since my parents, ya know – or maybe you don't, I don't know – died last year. Things were going okay, given the situation, but the past few weeks have been rough. I thought maybe he'd started drinking, or doing drugs. Anyway, last night or... I think it was last night... I woke up with someone grabbing me. I only caught a glimpse of who it was before I was hit on the back of the head, but I think it was my uncle. Next thing I knew I was here, in the dark.”
“And when was I brought in?” Taylor didn’t like the similarities between Hannah's experience and her own.
“About an hour ago,” Brett replied. “Shit, it could have been ten minutes for all I know, though. The only marker of time in here is how long it takes between needing to pee again. I'd suggest finding a place close to you, by the way. You don't want to accidentally stumble into your own shit in here. Not a lot of handy wipes or Purell around to clean up with.”
Taylor felt repulsed and faintly amused at the same time, but she put that aside to deal with the bigger issue. “Brett, did I hear you say it was your dad that brought you and your brother?”
There were a few seconds of silence, during which Taylor imagined he was nodding in the dark, but then he said, “Yeah, but...he looked all wrong. I know it sounds crazy, but his eyes were...they were black, and his skin looked diseased. I'm not lying either.”
“I know,” Taylor said quickly. “My dad grabbed me, too, and I think he looked the same way. And like Hannah said, my dad's been weird the past few weeks. Hell, both my parents have been weird, but my dad especially. It's like he gets home from the mine, but part of him is still there, or maybe part of the mine came with him.”
“Yeah, same here.” For the first time, Shelly didn't sound broken down. “About a month ago my dad came home from the mine drenched in water like he'd swam home down the river, and since then he's gotten more...unhappy, tuned out. I thought maybe he was coming down with the flu or something.”
“Do all our dads work in the mine?” Brett's little brother Alex asked, his young voice quivery and high-pitched.
That's a damn good question. “Shelly, does your uncle work in the mine too?”
“Yeah,” she replied, the volume of her voice increasing. “He's been weird too. This is fucked up, something's going on.”
Taylor puzzled over the new information. All of them lived with someone who worked in the mines, and those someones had been acting weird for the past several weeks. Obviously something was going on, but what? And what did that have to do with them now being in the dark? “Do any of you know why–”
“What the fuck does it matter?” Hannah’s voice fell just short of a scream.. “What does any of this matter? These questions are pointless, and I'm tired of listening to them! Now just be quiet! Someone has to know we're missing, so help will be coming soon!”
Taylor wanted to laugh at Hannah's naiveté, but she held herself in check because she knew it wouldn't help things. Not everyone had the same thought.
“Help, right.” Sarcasm dripped off Shelly’s words like acid. “I'm sure a S.E.A.L. team is on their way to save us, any minute now.”
“You shut up!” Hannah’s voice roared in the dark, loud enough to make Taylor wince. “Don't make fun of me! I'm sick of you always making fun of me! You're a goddam bitch, and I'm tired of you treat—”
The sound of stone being ground against stone rumbled over Hannah's words, stopping her in her tracks. Taylor felt the ground tremble beneath her, and her eyes swiveled to where she thought the sound was coming from as she scuttled sideways in the opposite direction. Seconds later she felt two sets of hands bump into her and heard a masculine “Ooff!” grunt against her ear as she plowed into Brett and his brother. She opened her mouth to apologize, but a sudden burst of light and silence cut her off.
“All of you better shut your mouths.” A man’s gruff voice came from behind a flashlight beam that shined like the sun.
Taylor instinctively closed her eyes to avoid being blinded, and in the bright haze she heard what sounded like two more people being thrown into the room. When she opened her eyes just the slightest bit, she saw Tamara Whitcomb and her twin brother Finn, both of whom she went to school with. She also knew that their dad worked in the mine. Which, judging from the rough stone walls around them, was where they were.
“If I hear any of you say another word.” The man pointed his flashlight at all of them in turn, “I'm going to come back, and I'm going to chew one of your throats out and drink you dry. If you think I'm kidding, think again.”
As he finished speaking he titled the flashlight up and shined it on his face. Decaying gray flesh, black eyes, and a misshapen mouth filled with razor sharp teeth shined into the dark. The nightmare her life had become now had a face to go with it, and a wave of madness towered over her, waiting to drop. All she had to hold it back were her screams, and those she let loose in a flood of tortured sound. When the light flicked off and dropped all of them back into darkness, her world became one long shriek of terror.
Even without seeing it, w
hen the rifle's hammer clicked back, Maya knew what it was. She'd seen way too many TV shows and movies to not know what a gun being cocked sounded like.
“Stay right there,” the voice behind them said, “and turn around.”
When Maya obeyed, the first thing she saw was the rifle. She had no idea what type of gun it was, or who made it, but none of that mattered. It was long, dark, and capable of ending her life with one pull of the trigger – that was what mattered. The rifle looked powerful and in good condition. The same couldn't be said for the man holding it.
Leprosy was the first word to pop into Maya's head when she looked at the figure glaring at her over the barrel of the gun. His skin was sallow with hints of gray, like he'd been hiding in a disease-ridden cave for years, with tears and gaps marring his flesh as though something inside him struggled to get out. He seemed young, but he stood hunched over like an old man, and the fingers curled around the rifle were claws. He looked like a hundred pounds of shit stuffed into an ill-fitting meat suit, with a gun at the ready to end her life.
As frightening as that was, though, something else scared her even more. It wasn't anything her eyes could see, or any of her other usual senses for that matter. It lurked beneath them, on a primal, spiritual level, and it had her psychic sensitivity meter pegging like crazy. He was a man, a person of flesh and blood and bone, but he was more than that. Shadows danced deep inside him, wisps of an ancient darkness that had taken root in him, changing him from the inside out, turning everything he was into something foul, something unnatural. In all her years of investigating the paranormal she'd never experienced anything like it.
“Dean?” Kyle said, his voice snapping Maya into the moment. “Dean Cotton, is that you?”
Dean raised his cheek from when it rested against the rifle butt, and then he flashed a gap-toothed grin as he laid it back. “Well now, your daddy said you was back in town, Kyle. I didn't think I'd be seein' you out here though. Last I heard, you were too good for these here mines. You change your mind, thought maybe you'd come see what you been missin'?”