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Texas Strange

Page 20

by West, Terry M.


  We are the fallen.

  Luke searched the audience. He couldn’t see Tammy among the ghosts, and he let out an audible sigh of relief. He realized what this was. These were Dreg’s victims, and there were more than he could count.

  One stood up among them. An aged woman. Her stare was vacant and her face creased. Her expression was stone. She spoke to him without opening her mouth, and Luke knew her name before she told him.

  I am Bertha Hobbs. I was a victim of the wolf. You are one of the few to touch him. Look for the red lantern. You will find him when you find the red lantern. Save your wife and avenge us all. I can aid you no more.

  Bertha sat down, and she bled back into the lifeless crowd.

  “What do you mean?” Luke called out, trying to spot her again. “The red lantern? Do you know where Dreg is? Why can’t you just tell me?”

  “Because that wouldn’t be very sporting,” a voice said behind him.

  Luke turned around. The infant in the aquarium from his earlier dream was on the stage further behind him. Now, however, Luke understood what the malevolent infant represented.

  “You are the couchemal,” Luke said.

  “Very good, Mr. Glover,” it said, smiling. Its feline eyes glowed as its form swayed in the water. “Then you must finally be starting to realize the whole purpose of recent events.”

  Luke thought for a moment, and then he gritted his teeth when the realization finally hit him. “This is all a game to you, isn’t it? A fucking game.”

  “That’s one way of putting it, I suppose. You see, my brother, Dreg, is a very primal force. He’s one of a kind, really. He has so much untapped magic and energy swirling inside. But he has no idea how much potential he has. I just hate to see him squander all of that power. Unfortunately, I can’t really do more than haunt him. Do you know what I need, Mr. Glover?”

  “What?” Lucas asked suspiciously.

  The couchemal came close to the glass, pressing his little palms against it and staring directly into Luke's eyes. “I need for him to die. Now, he will eventually, and all of that untapped power will be transmitted to me. It will come to me through the bloodline, and I am the only heir. However, patience was never my strongest virtue. I crave that power now. And you can help me get it.”

  “Everything that’s been going on,” Luke said in astonished, sudden understanding. “You’ve been behind it all.”

  “Let’s just say I can influence events, sometimes,” the couchemal said, proudly. “A rather handy attribute, wouldn’t you say?”

  “You were responsible for my wife’s abduction, weren’t you, you little shit,” Luke said approaching the aquarium.

  “Hold,” the couchemal said, and Lucas froze, unable to move.

  “I rule at this time, Mr. Glover. I constructed this place and I lured you here. I would recommend that you take care. Let me assure you that your wife is safe and will remain so, as long as you take the knowledge I’ve given you access to and go back to your body.”

  Luke thought for a moment, seeing how it all made sense now.

  “The wolf in my vision, that was you, right? I mean, Dreg has some power, but he wouldn’t know how to produce such a thing. If you want him dead, why did you make it so hard for me?”

  “When you face my brother, I will not be able to help you,” the couchemal explained. “I had to know that you were strong enough to accept this challenge, which I believe you are. Your physical form is recuperating, which it will be for hours. Now you must go.”

  “Before I do, I have to know something,” Luke insisted.

  “What would that be, Mr. Glover?” the couchemal replied. It drew back away from the glass and did small circles in the water.

  “You talk about untapped energy. Powers that Dreg possesses that you want to make your own. For what purpose?”

  The couchemal paused. It stared softly at Lucas. “There are dimensions that your feeble mind couldn't possibly grasp. There are unlimited planes of existence ripe for an ambitious entity such as myself. Dreg’s energy will be mine upon his passing. I will use it for conquest and, if need be, destruction.”

  “What about my plane of existence?” Lucas asked.

  “It doesn’t interest me,” the couchemal spoke, with an expansive grin. His feline eyes glowed like double moons. “Your kind is always so conceited. Trust me when I tell you that there are realms to rule that are far more desirable than the shitty little blue sphere you live on. Now be gone, Mr. Glover. It is time for you to fight the good fight and save your wife.”

  Before Luke could pose another question, darkness overcame his senses for the last time.

  CHAPTER 40

  Harlson stood outside of Captain Fowler’s office door. He had a pretty good indication about what to expect. Sergeant George Skinner had shown up at Herman Hospital, interrupting Harlson’s vigil, to inform him that Fowler requested his presence and he was quite prepared to put out an APB if Harlson didn’t report in. Skinner hadn’t enjoyed the task, which was some consolation, and Harlson suddenly chastised himself for the dread he felt.

  Fuck it, he thought. I’m dying. What’s porky going to do? Throw me off the force?

  He knocked.

  “Come in,” Fowler barked.

  Harlson stepped inside. “You wanted to see me?” he said, closing the door behind him.

  “Sit down,” Fowler said, bleakly.

  Harlson shook his head. “I prefer to stand if it’s all the same to you.”

  Fowler slammed his hands on his desk and he stood up, abruptly. “What the hell is wrong with you, William? Always bucking the system, aren’t you? Making up proper procedure as you go along, right? Well, you came out of the shit pile smelling like shit this time, my friend. What were you thinking? How could you permit Glover to come back on the case? Do you have any idea what trouble the department is in now?”

  Harlson told himself to behave. He told himself to stand there quietly and take his medicine like a good boy. But the anger boiling inside of him spilled out.

  “That’s all the department thinks about, you know- the department," he said angrily to Fowler. "What about the people out there we’re sworn to protect? Man, fuck your bullshit and fuck you.”

  Harlson dug his badge out and he slammed it on Fowler’s desk. “I’d give you my gun, too, but it belongs to me. I have a permit if you would like to see it.”

  Harlson recognized this as a scene he had witnessed in more than a few bad cop movies. Still, the act of roughly turning in his badge felt better than he had fantasized.

  “Wait a minute, William,” Fowler said, surprised. “No one has to quit around here. I’m not asking for your badge. Despite all of this bad business, you’re a good cop.”

  "Well, you aren't, asshole," Harlson spat back. "You got to where you are through politics, cocksuckery and backstage handshakes. You are a fucking joke!"

  Fowler was speechless for a second. And then his face reddened and he looked prepared to burst. "You have just severely fucked yourself," he proclaimed tensely. "You are done, William."

  "Yeah, I know I'm done," Harlson said with a dark chuckle. "I have terminal cancer, dipshit. And that means I don't have much of anything to lose right now. I still have my gun on me, so you should probably shut your mouth."

  Fowler suddenly calmed and softened. "Jesus, William. I am sorry."

  Harlson could see that Fowler was sincere.

  The dying man pulled back on his temper. "Well, shit, man. You just took all of the fun out of this," he confessed.

  He left Fowler's office.

  ***

  It was dark now. Tammy had no idea what time it was. Dreg had left the shed about an hour ago. Tammy watched the house through a crack in the wall. She waited for his next move.

  She had rerun Dreg’s story several times in her head that afternoon. Being a traiteur. Living like the wolf. He believed himself to be an animal. Tammy had understood that much. She had no idea how deep the psychosis went or how dang
erous Dreg could be in the throes of it, and she was determined not to find out.

  After Dreg had put his hands on her, Tammy had thrown away any reservations about attempting an escape. She was waiting now for the house to grow dark or for Dreg to take a night jaunt, as she guessed he would be prone to do. Why not? Wolves were nocturnal. Maybe he would go off to bay at the moon.

  She prayed that soon she would be free of this lunatic. Tammy would go home and never leave and change the locks and buy an attack dog and a gun.

  But what she had to do at the moment was wait a while longer, and then retrieve her friend Mr. Abandoned Screwdriver and pry a couple of boards loose and adios, amigo. She didn’t mean to be cocky, but she had to firmly believe, with complete conviction, that her plan would come off without a hitch. The desperation and fear were gone. She was now the little engine that could and no amount of doom saying would stop her.

  She waited, perched quietly on the floor. She had no idea how long she squatted there before Dreg appeared on the porch. He was dressed in dark clothing. He looked in the direction of the shed, his gaze lingering there for several seconds. Finally, he stepped off of the porch and into the forest.

  Tammy waited longer. She wanted a great amount of distance between them before she attempted her getaway. She lingered several minutes and then she went to the generator and dug out the screwdriver. She found two planks that looked brittle and pried on them. Despite their condition, the task was a hard one. Patiently, Tammy worked at the boards. Finally, one came loose. She pulled it aside, greeted by the cool night air. She smiled and stifled a triumphant cry.

  She worked at the next board, having more leverage now, and she soon had pried herself an exit. She carefully stepped out of the shed. She stood in the yard, nervously looking around. She had no idea what to do. Which way should she head? Dreg could have been anywhere. She noticed the cars, glowing under the half moon, and she spotted hers among them. She sprinted over to it, opened the door and then she climbed behind the wheel.

  The keys were gone.

  Damn! Tammy thought, slapping the steering wheel. The house. The keys had to be in the house.

  She got out of the car and she went to the house. She slowly stepped up onto the porch. Tammy suddenly longed for a weapon. She thought of the rusted screwdriver she had used to escape from the shed. It wasn't on her. She considered going back and searching for it, but she didn't want to waste any more time.

  Tammy grabbed the doorknob. The door was unlocked. She pressed it open cautiously, glancing around for Dreg before stepping inside. The lanterns barely lit the interior of the house. She stepped in what appeared to be a parlor. The place was in shambles. Garbage was strewn around the room and the furniture was destroyed. It looked like a hurricane had hit the place. Tammy stepped through the room and into the next one, which looked to be the kitchen.

  She spotted a sink that rested on a gutted counter top. Next to the sink, she noticed a series of pictures adhered to the wall near the window.

  Tammy stepped closer. The pictures were actually driver's licenses that were tacked to the decaying sheetrock. There were at least two dozen of them. Tammy studied them, noticing that some of the dates went as far back as the sixties. She found her own license pinned there as well.

  She heard something rumble behind her. Back across the room, near the door she had entered, a huge, flat freezer hummed.

  Tammy’s head swam as a new revelation dawned on her. Her gaze went from the licenses to the freezer and back.

  Back and forth. Point A to point B.

  She thought of the cars in the yard. Dreg’s philosophy about being a wolf- to live like an animal and not like a man. She thought of the licenses on the wall, pinned like butterflies in light boxes. Trophies. She continued to stare at that huge freezer humming against the far wall. She brought a shaking hand to her mouth.

  She suddenly felt sick and light-headed. Her inner voice screamed at her to leave, but she had to know. Tammy walked quickly to the freezer and she pulled the lid of it open. The first thing she noticed was a small collection of frozen human heads. The one that faced her belonged to man. His mouth was partially opened and one of his ears was gone. His colorless eyes stared beyond Tammy. There were other things stuffed into the freezer below the heads as well- she thought she glimpsed an arm- but the heads were all Tammy needed to confirm her fear.

  Nausea punched her in the stomach. She slammed down the freezer door and she took off. She gave up on the notion of finding her car keys. She wouldn't spend another minute in that hell house.

  She hurried back through the living room and out the open entrance of the cabin. Once on the porch, she paused and tried to figure out the best route to take. She decided on the opposite direction Dreg had taken and she plunged into the dark woods, distance from this madness her only goal.

  The woods were dark and she felt coarse tree limbs whip her flesh as she plodded on, oblivious to her destination. She had no idea where she might turn up and she didn’t care.

  'Away, away, away,' her frightened mind chanted as she physically cut through the thick brush.

  Slivers of moonlight patched the area, and at certain illuminations, she would pause for a second to try and ascertain her position.

  Solid growth. Black and foreboding. Animals moving about and rattling the brush. No sign of the Interstate or another cabin. Tammy pressed on, grimacing as a thorn left a trail in her forearm. She ran into a thick spider’s web, which immediately clutched her face. She nearly screamed, surprised by the sensation, and rubbed it away.

  That’s when she heard the noise. A guttural emission from behind. The unmistakable growl of an animal. She turned around slowly, her heart beating fit to burst.

  Two bestial eyes glared at her from the darkness. The eyes grew as the dark form stepped into a lit clearing. It was a German shepherd, standing its ground, poised to strike at her. It continued to growl, its black lips curled back, revealing moist fangs. The dog was dirty, its fur matted with soil. Tammy had heard about dogs abandoned to the wild. She knew full well that this animal could match a wolf for savagery, especially if it were provoked or hungry, and this dog looked ravenous.

  It slowly advanced on her, its nerve fueled by Tammy’s fear. She retreated slowly away from it, stepping precariously backward, staring directly into the dog’s eyes.

  “Get out of here,” Tammy said sternly, her legs shaking. “Go on, get!”

  The dog continued to stalk her, the fur on its back standing up like a spike. Tammy’s foot plunged into a low spot in the earth and she stumbled down, landing on her back.

  She sat up quickly and looked as the beast lunged at her, its jaws opened as wide as they were capable.

  Suddenly, a blur of motion intercepted the dog. The two figures plunged into a pool of shadow beneath a tree. The sounds were horrible- two beasts locked in a savage conflict. A victor was decided quickly when Tammy heard a pitiful death shriek. The night grew quiet again.

  She stood up, slowly stepping back. Her ankle hurt, but there wasn’t any real damage. The growling began again.

  No, she thought, turning and limping as fast as she could. Tammy couldn't escape Dreg only to fall victim to a wild animal. She moved quickly and she tried to move even faster when she was sure something was directly behind her. She ran, screeching from the pain in her ankle. The whole forest seemed to oppose her as the trees tried to grab her with ripe vines and the earth seemed to pitch in height, molehills laid like minefields in the growth.

  Something grasped her blouse. The cloth began to tear. She tried to jerk away and she was pulled back and thrown to the ground.

  “Tammy!”

  Dreg’s face towered over her, his glowing outraged face burning in the darkness.

  A hand lashed out, slapping her cheek. Another came. And another. She tried to put her hands up to evade the blows but the third one had knocked her senseless. And still more came. Tammy tasted blood and her eyes felt warm and puffy. She wasn�
�t sure where she was until her gaze went back upward and Dreg was still there, ready to deal out more punishment. Tammy turned over on her stomach, burying her face in the moist earth. Dreg began to curse her in a language she didn’t understand.

  He ended the foreign rant with a kick in the small of Tammy’s back. She gasped and arched in pain, her breath escaping her.

  “Why you do this to Dreg, Tammy?” he demanded, crouched and shouting in her ear. “Now Dreg got to deal wit’ you, Tammy! Deal wit’ you good and proper!”

  He grabbed a handful of her hair and hauled her painfully to her feet. She rose like a clumsy puppet. He grasped both of her shoulders and he glared at her as an inhuman sound issued from the back of his throat. Tammy gazed at him in the silver light, her fuzzy vision distorting the insane expression on his face.

  He’s going to do it, she thought dimly. He’s going to kill me.

  Dreg drew his arm back again, his face twisted and washed in moonlight.

  But before the blow came, Tammy mercifully passed out.

  ***

  She thrashed at the warm water, screaming at the top of her lungs and fighting against gravity as she felt her small frame succumbing to the murky depths.

  Her father stood on the pier, having a cigarette. His gray features were calm and relaxed. “Who’s going to save Sassy?” he said softly, the thin trace of a smile appearing on his lips.

  “Who’s going to save my poor Sassy?”

  Tammy woke up. She was no longer a little girl bobbing pitifully in waist deep lake water. She was back in the shed. Her face felt like raw meat. Her head felt swollen and as large as a pumpkin. Manacles were connected to her wrists. A length of rusty chain about a yard long held her to a two by six that was nailed in the far corner of the shed. Upon closer inspection, Tammy saw that the corner stud had been cut one quarter of the way through in the rear to accommodate the chain.

 

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