Gateway

by David C. Cassidy

  Someone knocked Sarah down. Marisa barely made it past her, avoiding a collision with the young man who had bumped Sarah aside. Jared could see Marisa had lost sight of her son, and only by the grace of God did she find him crouched behind an overturned table, trembling in terror.

  “Kit!” She held him close. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

  “Don’t let it get me! Don’t let it get meeeeeee!”

  “It’s all right, baby!”

  Marisa whipped round to the stage. Jared groaned as blood slid past his lips. The veins on his face were dark and thick.

  He reeled. All around, bedlam ruled. People screamed. Bodies blurred past, rushing in all directions. The mayor was back on his feet and was moving under his own steam, but was nearly tripped up as a man carrying his little girls in each arm stumbled against him. Some of the people that the mayor had crashed into were up, most of them hurrying away. A few others caught in the stampede were still on the ground. A handful were attending to them, including Everett Horn. He was down on one knee, calling for help at the side of Rose Tillman. She had a deep gash on her leg and didn’t seem to be moving. Marisa’s parents huddled beside a booth, clear of the chaos. Ricky Cowen stood with his daughter at his car. Gwen was on her way back, beelining for the mayor.

  Sarah Coleman weaved through an endless swarm of humanity to Marisa. “What’s happening? Mrs. Judge! Are you o—”

  “Stay with him!” Marisa shouted. She rose quickly, and Sarah crouched beside Kit.

  “Mom! No! Noooo!”

  Marisa started for the stage and was blindsided by a heavyset woman. She hit the ground hard and was winded.

  Jared rocked as the fever raced through him. His eyes were bloodshot and black, almost inhuman. He could barely see, his world filled with indistinct shapes. With a bloodied hand he reached out for Marisa, but his arm dropped to the stage. He heard screams and more screams, some for him, some for the fallen, and as the rage took him, he slipped into unconsciousness.

  ~ 106

  Marisa looked up in a fog. Her gaze rose to the large round Westclox on the wall at the nurse’s station. The black hour hand had finally crept past five. She’d been waiting for over an hour, with still no word from the doctor. Her eyes went back to her magazine, but she wasn’t really reading.

  The last few hours were a blur of memory and emotion. She couldn’t remember half of it, for the chaos had been surreal. All of this was so fucking surreal.

  She looked up again, but not at the clock. The nurse at the desk called her a second time.

  “I’m sorry,” Marisa said. She could still see Jared’s piercing dark eyes in her mind.

  “You can go in now,” the nurse said. “Room four. Just around the corner.”

  Marisa thanked her, and she found Jared lying in bed. She moved beside him and set her hand on the bed rail. He looked so fatigued, so fragile. His eyes, no longer stark ebony, were still cold and unfamiliar.

  She leaned over and kissed him. “I love you. You scared me to death, but I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” he said weakly. He reached up slowly and took her hand. “Well, you got your way. I told you if it got worse, I’d see a doctor.”

  “Speaking of which, I haven’t seen her. What did she say?”

  Jared chuckled. “She figures it’s heat stroke. And you wonder why I don’t trust these geniuses.”

  “Lousy diagnosis aside, maybe the sun finally got to you, yes. But this was an accident waiting to happen.”

  He could only nod.

  “Did you tell her anything?” she said.

  “Only what she needed to know.”

  He motioned to a cup on the swing-table beside him, and she held the cup while he took a good gulp through the straw. She placed the cup back.

  She stroked his hand. They had discussed his ashen fingernails when they met at the park—she had noticed them straight off—but now they were darker than she remembered. His skin was leathery, too, his scars rougher than they usually felt. And now, running from the tips of his fingers all the way to the first knuckle, his skin had turned gray. “What did the doctor say about this?”

  “She didn’t.”

  She looked him over. He had little color. The black veins that had crossed his cheeks were but a whisper of what they had been.

  “What?” he said.

  She told him what she had seen when he collapsed on the stage. The veins. His eyes. Tears welled in hers.

  “Hey,” he said. “Hey, baby.”

  Marisa sniffled and dried her eyes. “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But stop looking at me like I’m the next one in line for a pine box.”

  She bit back more tears. “I can’t lose you again. Not like this.”

  “I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

  “What happened out there?” she said. She didn’t like the fear in her voice.

  “I don’t really remember,” he told her. “The last thing I recall is you holding me. The rest is just a blur.”

  “A lot of people were shaken up. It was bad.”

  “How bad?”

  “Rose Tillman is a few rooms down. Apparently, she’s got a nasty leg injury. A nurse told me she insisted on going home, made a real fuss about it. Said she had to get home. Can’t say I blame her, what with everything that’s happened. Long story short, they got her home okay. But then she had a bad fall in her bedroom and was rushed back in an ambulance.”

  “Jesus. Jesus.”

  Marisa gave him a quick rundown of the carnage. And then she told him something she herself did not believe. Or didn’t want to. “Something attacked me.”

  “What?”

  “The moment I put my arms around you. Something shoved me back.”

  “For all I know, I could have swung at you. I was delirious.”

  “It wasn’t you, damn it. It attacked the mayor.”

  “It?”

  “I couldn’t see it,” she said. “It was like this invisible thing just shoved me. It threw the mayor right off the stage.” She went on, as if reading his mind. “I know. I know. The stone under Kit’s bed.”

  “He was telling the truth.”

  “Yes. All of it. But there’s more. Whatever was under his bed, today it went after him.”

  “It attacked him? Is he all right?”

  “For now, yes. It never got to him.” She stopped, not really wanting to say what was on her mind.

  “Mar?”

  “It’s crazy, okay? But something went through that crowd like a bulldozer. Some people were trampled by other people. But others? They crashed to the ground like someone shoved them out of the way—when no one was even near them.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

  “Whatever it was, it was hunting my son.” She paused. “I think Kit saw it.”

  “But you said it was invisible.”

  “I know what I said. But Kit’s not like other kids.”

  “… No.”

  “He saw it, Jared. He saw the shape. The monster.” When Jared didn’t respond, she gave him a cold look. “Come on. Spill it.”

  “Okay,” he groaned, clearly in physical discomfort. “Aside from everything else, I’ve been having trouble sleeping. More than I usually do. But that house, it’s so big, Mar. I’ve been feeling these strange sensations all around me. Remember what I told you before? I’d swear someone else is there.”

  “You heard them?”

  “That’s the scary thing. It’s not like I’m hearing bumps in the night—but it’s way more than just that creepy feeling of being watched. It’s like I’m standing right next to someone I can’t see. Or that they’re right behind me.”

  Marisa felt a chill along her arms. “And you didn’t tell me this, why?”

  “Because it’s all fucking crazy. Sorry.”

  “And the monster thoughts? Still hearing those?”

/>   “For now, no. Has Kit?”

  “Not that I know of. But this thing is out there, isn’t it? It’s out there, and it’s after my son.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “Of course we do! But why? He’s just a little boy.”

  “I don’t know, Mar. I wish I knew. But one thing I do know is this. It’s growing stronger.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jared winced as he battled the pain. This time, he kept silent.

  “What do you mean, Jared?”

  “… There’s something else I haven’t told you.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Listen. I’m sorry. I’m still trying to get a grip on it myself.” He hesitated. “Before I blacked out today—and before today—I was trapped in a fever. But it wasn’t just a fever. I felt anger inside. Rage.”

  “Rage? What? Why? Why—”

  Jared shook his head. “I don’t know. But it was real. Overwhelming. If I had to describe it, it was like I had this uncontrollable urge.”

  “Urge to what?”

  He looked away.

  “Urge to what, Jared.”

  Still he did not reply.

  “Urge to what, Jared.”

  “… To kill.”

  Marisa drew a small step back.

  “Mar,” he said. “It’s me. It’s me.”

  “It isn’t you. Look in the mirror, why don’t you? You’re changing by the day.”

  “I just need rest.”

  “Rest? Are you hearing yourself? You and my son have this fucked-up connection going on. This damn gateway of yours caused this whole fucking thing.”

  “Mar—”

  But already she was out the door and rushing down the corridor in tears.

  ~ 107

  Marisa slammed the wheel and slumped back in her car seat. She was still shaking, and only now had the tears stopped. She didn’t know how much more she could take.

  What was she supposed to do? Just ride this out? She needed to end this. Needed to be free of this madness before it got worse.

  Yes. She could take Kit and move on. Take him as far from Torch Falls as she could. Get him away from the monster.

  Are you hearing yourself?

  She’d asked Jared the same. And now here she was, rambling in her mind like a total nut job.

  There are no monsters, she thought. “There are no monsters.”

  Oh, but there are, girl. And one’s hiding under your child’s bed.

  She slammed the wheel again.

  Who was she kidding? She couldn’t leave town. She could barely afford where she lived now.

  There was more. No matter how far she went, it wouldn’t matter. Whatever that thing was that wanted her son, it would still be able to reach him. Kit and Jared were connected by forces she could barely understand. Who knew how far this gateway could reach? Jared saw souls, for God’s sake. That wasn’t a stretch down the highway.

  But it’s more than that, isn’t it?

  Jared was changing. He was coming apart at the seams. She had no idea whether he’d get better, didn’t know whether she had the strength to stand by him and watch him deteriorate. But as her dear old dad might say, facts were facts. She loved Jared more than ever. And she couldn’t lose him.

  She headed for home when her cellphone rang. She answered the call and put it on speaker.

  “Hi, Mom,” she said, taking a slow right turn.

  “Hi, Pink,” Catherine Judge said.

  Marisa had always adored the endearment. She liked it even better than Pinky, the very first word she had uttered at nine months. Yes, she adored it. After all these years, and especially now—it still calmed her.

  “I’ve been trying to reach you,” Catherine went on. “I called about fifteen times.”

  “Sorry. I left my cell in the car. Is Kit okay?”

  “He’s fine. He’s at home with Sarah. She’s a little upset. But she insisted it was okay to leave Christian with her.”

  “How’s Dad?”

  “He’s fine, too. We’re all okay. Are you?”

  “Me? Yes. Of course.”

  “And Jared?”

  “He’s resting. But he’s all right. Heat stroke.”

  “Heat stroke.”

  “Mom, it was. It is. The doctor said so.”

  “We’re worried sick about you. Both of you.”

  Marisa didn’t know what to tell her. She started to say something, but couldn’t.

  “Pinky?”

  “I’m here, Mom.” Marisa pulled over to the side of the street.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Listen, young lady. You know exactly what I mean. What happened out there today?”

  Marisa could hear her father in the background, asking the same. Not as nicely.

  Catherine prodded her again. “Out with it, Pink.”

  “I don’t know, Mom. I’m just as confused as you are.”

  “And Jared? What did he say?”

  “Not much. He was really run down.”

  “And he’s all right?”

  “Yes. Yes. He just needs rest.”

  “People are calling, Pink.”

  “What do you mean? Who’s calling?”

  “About ten people,” her father said in the background.

  “Oh, Henry, it wasn’t ten,” Catherine corrected. “Maybe four or five.”

  “Five?” Marisa said. “Who were they?”

  “No idea,” Catherine said. “They hung up when I asked. I guess they tried calling you at home but couldn’t reach you. Then they called us.”

  “They asked for me?”

  “Yes. Yes they did.”

  “Mom? What’s wrong? What did they say?”

  “They weren’t very pleasant. Mostly angry. They demanded to know what happened.”

  “I had nothing to do with it.”

  “I tried to tell them that. They weren’t in a listening mood.”

  “Ha! That’s putting it mildly,” Henry Judge barked. “I told the last one off, lemme tell you.”

  “Stop it, Henry,” Catherine said. “Marisa? Are you sure you’re all right? Is Christian okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t we be?”

  “Oh, come on. We saw what happened. Just like everyone else. The mayor was attacked. Just like you were.”

  “I don’t know what happened, Mom. I really don’t.”

  “It was crazy. All of it. It was like one of Jared’s books.”

  “Did you speak with Kit?”

  “No. He was pretty wired by the whole thing. Your father got him some ice cream to help settle him.”

  “I’m heading right home,” Marisa said.

  “Listen, Pink. If you need anything, if you need to talk … we’re here.”

  “I know. But I’m okay. It’s all okay.”

  Marisa said goodbye before Catherine could probe any further. She checked her phone for missed calls. One was from Gwen.

  She hesitated, then called her back. “Gwen? It’s Marisa.”

  “Hi.”

  “Gwen?” She sounded upset.

  “How’s Jared?”

  “He’s fine. He’s okay.”

  “I guess that’s good,” Gwen snapped. “I mean, it’s good that he’s okay.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “What the hell happened today?”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Really? You expect me to believe that?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Look around you,” Gwen said. “Isn’t it strange that all these crazy things started when Jared came back?”

  “What? He has nothing to do with any of that.”

  “Oh? What about today? My God. Do you think the mayor is stupid? Do you think we all had some mass hallucination?”

  “Look. I don’t know what happened today.”

  “And Kyle Duncan? I suppose you don’t
know anything about that?”

  “What’s this have to do with Kyle?”

  “Like you don’t know.”

  “No. I don’t. And—”

  “Oh! Didn’t Jared tell you? I guess he didn’t. Is that what you expect me to believe? That he just kept you in the dark about all this?”

  “All what?” Marisa said. What could she possibly know?

  “Kyle Duncan,” Gwen said. “I didn’t know what really happened that day. Just what I heard around town. But after what happened today, Rick filled me in.”

  “About what?”

  “You really think I’m that stupid? I wish you had come to me. I thought we were friends. But you’re as much to blame for all this as Jared.”

  “Why are you saying this? Jared didn’t do anything! He hasn’t done anything!”

  “Well,” Gwen said. “You’re either the biggest liar this side of the Great Lakes, or just plain stupid. He did do something. And whatever it was, he did it to Kyle Duncan. He might have killed him! And you’re trying to protect h—”

  Marisa hung up.

  ~ 108

  When Marisa turned onto Elm and approached her home, she had to stop quickly. “Now what?”

  She drove past a half-dozen cars parked along both sides of the street. She recognized only one: Bobby Duncan’s Camaro.

  Several people stood in front of her driveway. Some on her lawn. One stood on her front stoop. Bobby Duncan.

  Marisa drove a fist into her horn and the driveway cleared. She pulled in quickly, and Ina Krantz from the Thrifty Mart shuffled Marisa’s boss out of the way. Merritt DeWitt stood with her arms akimbo, glaring at Marisa.

  Bobby Duncan was already down the steps. He was shouting.

  Marisa shot a look over her shoulder. There were at least a dozen people gawking at her. Most of them she didn’t know.

  A loud bang on her hood rocked her, and she let out a small shriek.

  Bobby pounded the hood again. “Get out!”

  When she didn’t move, Bobby slammed the hood with both fists. The group started on her, demanding answers, demanding she get out of the car. She pounded the horn and kept on it until they stopped.

  She got out, and Bobby blocked her path to the stoop. He smelled of stale alcohol, but the grim look in his eyes told her he was dangerously sober.