by A. R. Wise
He never hit Debbie, and would never allow himself to, but he needed an outlet for his rage. He wasn’t even sure how he ended up at Debbie’s work, or by what luck, or lack thereof, he found her partner in the alley behind the grocery store, but the confluence of events led him to confront the young man, leading to a violent altercation that sent Jacker fleeing and Debbie’s lover bleeding and unconscious.
Jacker had been Paul’s sponsor in their support group, but the two had developed a close friendship over the past few months. Paul promised to help in any way he could, but he was dealing with his own issues at the moment after being fired from his job. They spent a long evening drinking and ruminating on their bad luck. Jacker had lost his job, his girlfriend, and was on the run from the law. Paul had also lost his job, fought endlessly with his girlfriend, and pined for an old girlfriend that wanted nothing to do with him. They drowned their sorrow in alcohol that night, and laughed at how bleak each of their future’s looked. Little did they know how things were just about to get so much worse.
Except that Paul had Alma now.
A twinge of jealousy shot through Jacker at the thought. He hated himself for it, but Jacker had enjoyed knowing that Paul was just as down and out as he was. Now that Paul had Alma again, things were looking up for his friend. Meanwhile, Jacker was continuing his downward spiral.
“Fuck me,” said Jacker as he stared at the spinning moths around the fading light.
He was so tired that the walls looked like they were moving, and as he leaned against the van it started to feel like he was sinking into it. He was reminded of being on acid, where solid objects could suddenly take on the appearance of a sheet with snakes slithering beneath. As he stared at the moths, the wall around the flickering light began to quiver. The shadows of the moths were growing larger and longer than they should be, as if they were also being affected by the wavering wall.
“What in the hell?”
Jacker took a step closer as the shadows on the wall grew. It looked like the moths were drawing black lines on the walls with their shadows, but then the path they carved began to move on their own. The twisting shadows struck terror in Jacker and he rubbed his eyes to see if this was an illusion. Was he experiencing a flashback? He’d often heard legends of drug-users being struck by flashbacks days or even weeks after using. Was that what was happening?
The black shadows twisted and grew, but then the light finally faded away, failing like it had been threatening to do for a long time. Now the whole wall was merely a shadow, but he could still see movement within it, as if there was something darker than the shadows moving in front of him.
CHAPTER 22 –This Might Hurt
Inside Cada E.I.B.’s facility
March 13th, 2012
Shortly before 6:00 AM
Stephen was walking in front of his wife, and he was using the viewfinder on his camera, utilizing the night vision to get a better view of what lie ahead. Rachel had a flashlight, but was using it to watch behind them.
Rosemary had given them directions to Oliver’s lab, and explained that the emergency doors in the facility were temporarily disabled. However, they would have to take the stairs down because the elevator required a key to access the bottom floor. Paul explained that it wouldn’t do any good to argue with Rosemary about how she could know so much about the building, and that she’d been using her ability to ‘know’ things during their entire trip out to Branson.
The Cada E.I.B. facility was as quiet as a tomb, and the clack of Rachel’s shoes echoed through the halls. Stephen stopped and said, “Take off those shoes. We sound about as subtle as a drum line.”
Rachel groaned, but did as he asked. Without her shoes on she barely reached up to Stephen’s shoulders as she stayed close behind him.
“How the fuck did we get roped into this?” asked Rachel.
“Babe, this whole thing might suck now, but when we get this story out…” he shook his head and whistled. “It’s going to be huge.”
“It won’t do us a hell of a lot of good if we’re dead.”
Stephen didn’t offer a retort. He just nodded and said, “True. So let’s not go dying. Rosemary said the stairs were by the elevators. Do you see them?”
“Yes,” said Rachel as she used the flashlight to point over to a nearby door. “Right there.”
They went over to the door and Stephen turned the camera to Rachel so that she was looking at the lens. She stared at him, her eyes showing as large, green globes in the viewfinder, and he asked her, “Are you ready, Mrs. Knight?”
She glowered and shook her head. “No, not really.”
“Are you scared?”
“Of course I am. Why? What’s with you? Why are you asking stupid questions?”
“I’m just trying to help the people that watch this get a better idea of how we’re feeling.”
“You’re taping?” asked Rachel, surprised and annoyed.
“Of course I’m taping. I’ve been taping everything. I’m not letting any of this get lost.”
“I thought a red light or something would blink when you were taping.”
“Not if you shut it off,” said Stephen. “I’m not risking Rosemary or any of the others freaking out on us and making us shut it off. Fuck that. This is too important.”
“Great,” said Rachel. “I’m sure they’ll be super happy when they find out you’ve been recording so much.”
Stephen had his hand on the door’s bar when he lowered the camera and sneered at his wife. They could see each other faintly by the light of her flashlight as she scanned the area. “Babe, this whole thing is too big a story to worry about what they think. Forgive me, but if they try to stop us from getting this story out there…” He laughed and said bluntly, “Fuck them. I’m not even thinking about money, or our website, or anything else other than how fucking huge this is. People need to know what happened in this town.”
“What happened?” asked Rachel. “Do you know? Because I sure as hell don’t. I’m still trying to sort out what was real and what was a dream. I’m not even sure I know anymore. And plus, I’m exhausted. I’m not even sleepy, but totally exhausted. My hands are shaking, and my stomach is upset. I just want to get out of this place.”
“I offered you my pills. You’re the one that didn’t want to take them.”
“Are we seriously going to start fighting about that again?” asked Rachel. She pointed her flashlight at the door to the stairs and said, “Let’s just get a move on.”
Stephen raised the camera again and started recording as they opened the door to the stairwell and headed down. Rachel was about to follow when she caught sight of something on the floor.
“Hey, look,” she said as she shined the light at the tile.
Stephen looked down with the camera, but the glare from the flashlight muddied the picture. When he looked past the viewfinder and directly at the floor he saw that Rachel had noticed a smear of what might be mud, or blood, or both.
“Is that blood?” asked Rachel.
“Some of it looks like mud,” said Stephen. “But that’s blood,” he pointed at a reddish-brown streak. “Paul shot the dude in the foot, so we can probably follow the trail to him.”
“Rosemary was pretty confident this guy would be in his lab,” said Rachel.
“Yeah, well, maybe the blood leads there. Only one way to find out.” Stephen smiled and raised his eyebrows.
Rachel sighed and said, “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Of course I am,” said Stephen. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m freaked out too, but our trip out here has been better than I could’ve ever hoped. We’re not just proving that supernatural beings exist, we made contact with them.”
“Yeah, and I don’t want to do it again,” said Rachel. “I don’t want any of this. I don’t want the site. I don’t want the show. I don’t want any of it. I just want to go back to how things were before we came here.”
“Are you insane?” asked Step
hen. “You want to go back to being a local news reporter making thirty grand a year? With what we’ve found out here, we’re going to be millionaires.”
“I liked my job,” said Rachel. “Sure, the pay wasn’t great, but people around town were getting to know me, and who knows what might’ve happened if I’d stayed there. All of the anchors at the station started as field reporters.”
“Come on, babe,” said Stephen with a dismissive roll of his eyes. “They fed all you reporters that same line of bullshit. It’s how they get you to put up with all of their crap. They tell you that if you ever want to be an anchor, you’ve got to go through the field reporter duty, but what they don’t tell you is that the anchors keep their jobs for decades, and when it comes time to hire a new one, experience isn’t what counts. They’ll give that job to anyone that’s good looking and can read a teleprompter. They chew up and spit out girls like you by the dozen. They make you think you’re destined for the anchor’s seat, and then send you out on bullshit assignments over and over so the viewers can gawk at your tits.”
“Nice,” said Rachel. “Real nice, asshole.”
“Hey, I’m just telling the truth. I saved you from years of dealing with bullshit and false promises from those people.”
“You can be a real piece of shit sometimes. You know that?” asked Rachel as she walked past her husband and started to head down the stairs.
“How so?” asked Stephen as he followed behind his wife. “Because I’m always looking out for you? Because I’m always looking out for our future?”
“No,” said Rachel as she stopped on the stairs and turned to face him. She shined her flashlight in his eyes. He cringed and held his arm up to block the light. “Because you’re always trying to manipulate people into doing what’s good for you, and not necessarily what’s good for them. You never even once asked me if I wanted to stay at the station. You always just talked about how stupid I was for staying there, and how I could make so much more money if I did this stupid fucking paranormal site with you.”
“And I was right,” said Stephen, flabbergasted by his wife’s anger.
“But I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this. I was happy with my job. And, like an idiot, I let you convince me to quit.”
Stephen nodded as he calmly said, “I get it. I get what’s up. You’re just tired and freaked out about everything. That’s understandable. But you’ve got to see that we made the right choice. This story is going to change our lives.”
“Did you make the right choice for Aubrey?” asked Rachel.
“It’s a shame what happened to that girl, but that’s not my fault.”
“It’s not?” asked Rachel with a snort and a laugh. “You’re the one that convinced her to come, and now she’s dead. She’s fucking dead, Stephen. How can you be so glib about all of this when a girl died because of us?”
“She chose to come along,” said Stephen. “No one forced her.”
“No, you never have to force anyone,” said Rachel. “That’s just it. You manipulate everyone into getting what you want out of them. And while we’re on the subject, you and Aubrey might’ve fooled Alma, and you damn near fooled me too, but after I realized that you paid Aubrey to have sex with Jacker, everything clicked into place for me.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Stephen with a high pitched whine.
“You just happened to run into a hooker that looks like all of your old girlfriends, and she just happens to know all about Widowsfield. How fucking lucky. Right? What’re the chances?”
“Rachel, come on,” said Stephen as he started to walk down the stairs again. “Do you hear yourself? You sound crazy now. The girl lived around here all her life. It’s no mystery that she knew about Widowsfield. You’re just trying to convince yourself that something’s going on when it’s not. You’ve always been like that; always looking for the secrets other people are hiding. That’s what makes you such a good reporter.”
Stephen tried to put his arm around his wife, but she moved away from him. She glared up at him and asked, “Why don’t you just tell me the truth. No more lies.”
“I am telling the truth,” said Stephen.
“Bullshit.”
“Rachel, listen to me,” said Stephen in a last ditch effort to calm her. “I knew Aubrey was an escort, it was pretty damn obvious, but Jacker didn’t figure it out. The dude’s not the sharpest crayon in the box. You know? But the poor guy’s been dealing with his breakup, and he was feeling pretty down on himself, so I struck up a conversation with Aubrey to try and get her to give Jacker some attention. You know, to boost up the guy’s self-confidence a little. I never intended for it to go as far as it did, but while Jacker was talking to her he mentioned Widowsfield and she told us how she used to come here. That’s when I offered to pay her for a few days of her time. That’s the whole story, I swear.”
“And she just happened to look like all your ex-girlfriends?”
“That’s all in the past. I had a lot of girlfriends before you,” he said with a snide grin. He could see that she was beginning to trust him again.
“And they were all blonde, petite, and with tattoos.”
“And then I met you, and I realized that you were the girl I was looking for my whole life. That’s why I gave you that ring.”
Rachel raised her naked ring finger, the indent still visible, and said, “I don’t have it anymore. Rosemary’s got it.”
“Oh right,” said Stephen as he looked at his own ring-less wedding finger. “I forgot about that. But you get the point. I love you, babe. And the only reason I convinced you to leave your job is because I know you’re better than that. You deserve to be a star.”
“I don’t want to be a star,” said Rachel. “I just want to go home.”
“We’ll make it there,” said Stephen. “I promise. Let’s just get this guy that Rosemary wants, and we can start figuring out how to get home. But first, are you and I okay?” asked Stephen as he again tried to put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. This time she didn’t move away. “Do you trust me?”
“No, but I guess I still love you.”
“I’ll take it,” said Stephen with a wide grin.
“But you’d better not be lying to me.”
“Never, babe.”
They kissed, and then continued down the stairs.
In Cada E.I.B.’s parking lot
March 13th, 2012
6:00 AM
Jacker heard Ben Harper cackling inside the van. The twisting shadows on the wall of the facility transfixed Jacker, but he managed to reach for the van’s sliding side door and open it to find out what the frail man inside was laughing about. “What’s going on?” he asked without turning to look at the two men in the back of the van. He just continued to watch as the shadows formed tentacles that snaked across the wall.
“He’s coming,” said Ben, his voice was no longer maligned by his weakness like it had been before. He wasn’t coughing and sputtering as he spoke.
“Who’s coming?” asked Jacker.
“The one that knows us. The one they call The Watcher in the Walls.”
Jacker finally looked away from the twisting shadows and into the van. “What do you mean by that? How is he coming here? I thought we were in the real world now.”
“They’ve turned the machine back on,” said Ben. “I can feel it. The Watcher’s coming.”
Jacker felt himself beginning to panic. The shifting shadows on the wall terrified him, and he wanted nothing more than to get in the van and drive as far away as the gas tank would take him, but that would require abandoning the only people in his life he could honestly call friends, and he wasn’t willing to do that.
“I’ve got to save them,” said Jacker.
“You can’t,” said Ben. “You’ll die in there. He’ll tear you to pieces. And if he doesn’t, then the witch will see you dead before this is over.”
“Go to hell, you twisted little fuck,” said Jacker as he
slid the door shut again. He decided that his friends’ safety was more important than watching over Michael and Ben. He held the salt-pellet shotgun tight as he approached the door. It was dark out, but he could still see even darker shapes slithering on the wall, but they retreated as he approached, as if frightened of him.
“This is crazy, man,” said Jacker to himself as he prepared to open the door. “Paul, you’d better fucking appreciate this, bro.” He gripped the handle and pulled the door open. It was pitch black in the hall beyond, but he stepped in anyhow. He placed his foot against the door to keep it open so that the sparse moonlight could shine in. The door was on the side of the hallway, and he knew that Paul and the others had gone to the right. They’d been headed downstairs, but he hoped that he could scream loud enough for them to hear. He called out Paul’s name, and then Alma’s, but got no answer.
The hall was pitch black, and he couldn’t see the end of it, but the darkness was shifting. He squinted to try and see, and he thought he discerned movement coming his way. His eyes adjusted, and he finally caught a glimpse of what was coming his way. Hundreds of thin, black wires were sliding across the floor, headed towards him like a nest of snakes fleeing a flood.
Jacker leapt out of the door and back towards the van as he cursed. The door was closing slowly, but then the black wires reached out and wrapped around the door’s bar handle. They pulled and the door shut with a thunderous bang. Jacker continued to back away until he collided with the van, cursing in fright the entire time. His hands were shaking, and his heart was beating so hard that he could feel its fast rhythm in eardrums.
“Paul,” said Jacker as he gripped the shotgun close against his belly. “I’m not going to give up on you, brother.”
Despite what he said, Jacker ran to the driver’s side of the van while fishing the keys out of his pocket. When he opened the door, Ben was quick to say, “Good, Hank. Get us away from here. Don’t let The Watcher find us.”
“You can go ahead and shut the fuck up, weirdo,” said Jacker as he turned the van on. “I’m not running this time.” He put the van in reverse and sped backward into a quick, jarring two-point turn. Then he drove out of the parking lot on the side of the building.