by Tim Curran
All of that had been replaced by much simpler imperatives…to hunt, to kill, to fuck, to eat. Maybe Earl Gould was right.
All of them out there…animals, they are regressing to animals, throwing off the yoke of intelligence and civilization, returning to the jungle and survival of the fittest…
“Dick,” Louis said, his voice very calm even though his heart was trying to pound a hole through his chest. “Dick…listen to me. It’s important that you hear what I say.”
But Dick didn’t seem to think that was important at all.
What was important here, friends and neighbors, was getting this fine piece of teenage snatch and raping it, then maybe slitting its throat, letting that hot blood pour into your mouth because that was the world’s oldest orgasm, the smell and taste and feel of the blood. Only tightass Louis Shears didn’t seem to know that because…well, because, he was still hung up on outdated, trifling things like morals and ethics and civilization.
“Louis,” Dick finally said and it looked like it took some real effort just to be coherent. He shook his head, licked his lips. “Louis, goddammit, don’t go fucking up things. I’m taking that bitch and you can either join in or I’ll go right through you. How’s that sound, old pal?”
Louis was scared.
Hell, yes. Like watching your best friend change into a werewolf right in front of you. Because, honestly, the change was that complete, that total. Dick was a slavering, shaggy monster, hungry for conquest and meat. Everything that civilization, his parents, and environment had taught him were acceptable behavior had been thrown right out the window. What was left, what was in control of him, was something much older, something atavistic and basic, something from the dawn of the race.
“Dick, you’re not touching the girl. I can’t let you touch the girl. I think inside you know that. Just try and think, Dick. Try and be rational, okay? You were always a good man and I think some of that goodness is still in you.”
“Fuck you, Louis.”
Louis stood his ground. “Don’t do it, Dick.”
Don’t be threatening, Louis warned himself. He’s just an animal. If you get territorial on him, he’ll have to fight you. He won’t have a choice. You push him into a corner, he’ll come out clawing.
Which was pretty good advice, but Louis figured Dick was locked hard in an aggression mode and he was going to attack either way. The thing was, though, that you couldn’t let him see fear and at the same time, you couldn’t appear too threatening. Dick had to be treated like a mad dog, nothing more.
“Where’s Nancy, Dick? Where’s your wife? Where are the girls?” Louis said, hoping this would be like a slap across the face.
“Nancy…Nancy’s dead. I killed her, Louis. She didn’t understand how it is. She fought against it. She didn’t see how… pure things are now. So I took this axe and I fixed that bitch.”
“Louis…” Macy said.
But he couldn’t risk taking his eyes off Dick for even a second. He was not a fighting man. He was not a violent sort. But down deep he was a man as any other and if it came down to it, he would fight to protect what was his. He would not sacrifice Macy to Dick Starling. He could not and would not let that happen.
“Get out of my way, Louis.”
“Can’t do that, Dick. You know I can’t.” He just shook his head. “C’mon, Dick. Think, try and think-”
“I don’t wanna think! I hate thinking!”
“-please, Dick, just try. Something’s happening in this town. Some kind of sickness has gotten people and it’s got you, too. It’s making you do bad things.”
“Yeah, you’re right, Louis,” he said, “and I’ve never, ever felt so alive before.”
Enough conversation and they both knew it.
Louis would have had an easier time convincing an ironing board it was a doorstop than changing Dick Starling’s mind. Louis steeled himself and Dick attacked. He made another coarse grunting sound in his throat and swung the axe with everything he had, two-handed. Louis ducked past it and the blade struck the refrigerator with a clanging sound, denting the front right in and leaving a six-inch gash. Macy screamed and Louis shouted and Dick snarled, bringing the axe back around. The blade missed Louis’ chest by a scant two or three inches. But the backward swing through Dick off balance and Louis went right at him, grabbing the axe handle in both hands and fighting with everything he had for it. Under ordinary circumstances, it might have been a dead heat. Louis was taller than Dick, but Dick outweighed him by thirty pounds.
But there was nothing ordinary about this situation: Dick Starling was an animal filled with animal fury.
Louis threw everything he had into it, trying to throw Dick off balance, but Dick wasn’t having it. When he couldn’t wrench the axe free from Louis’ grip, he kicked and stomped and then put all his maniacal strength into it. And, dear God, what they said about crazy people being strong was true. Louis held onto the handle and Dick still swung it, swung it and Louis through the air, slamming him down on top of the table. Dick was just mad. His eyes were wide and shining, drool foaming from his lips, a stink of blood and bad meat coming off of him in rank waves.
“I’ll kill you, Louis!” he muttered with almost a growling sound. “I’ll fucking kill you, kill you, kill you…”
Louis hung on, giving Dick a few good kicks to the legs that did nothing but infuriate him. He kept lifting Louis up and slamming him back down again and again and Louis knew, just knew, there was no goddamn way he was winning this one. Dick would tire him out, kill him, and then…and then…
And that’s when Macy stepped up behind Dick and struck him with an empty wine bottle. The impact was heavy. It made a hollow, thudding sound and it stopped Dick. He looked more confused than anything. Then Macy swung it with everything she had and it smashed right over his head in a spray of green glass.
He folded up instantly.
Dazed and disoriented, he tried to crawl across the floor at Macy, groaning and spitting. Louis jumped off the table and kicked him in the side of the head with everything he had. Dick went out cold.
“Thanks, honey,” Louis panted, trying to catch his breath.
“He isn’t dead, is he?” she asked.
Then Dick moaned. Nope, not dead at all.
“We better do something with him,” she said.
Louis smiled at her. Little Macy was no cringing wallflower, not when she got her ire up. There were plenty of teenage girls who would have screamed and ran, but not this girl. If you had to be trapped in a nightmare like this, then Macy was the girl to be trapped with.
Louis reached down and grabbed Dick’s ankles. “Open the door,” he said.
Macy opened the back door and Louis dragged him from the kitchen, grunting and puffing. It was no easy bit. Maybe it looked easy on TV, but in reality dragging a full-grown man around was hard, sweaty work. And Dick was nothing but dead weight.
Louis got him to the steps and let him roll down. He heard Dick’s head bang off the steps, but he didn’t feel a single twinge of guilt over it. With Macy’s help, he dragged him through the grass to the garage. It was no easy trick getting him through the door, but they did it.
“He’s going to thank us for this later,” Louis panted.
He took duct tape and taped Dick’s wrists together behind his back, using a lot of it. Even a madman couldn’t tear his way out. Then he took a length of chain and passed it around Dick’s taped wrists and wound it around a support beam that went from floor to rafters above. He slapped a Masterlock on the chain and that was that.
Macy stared down at Dick. “You heard what he said, Louis. About his wife. About Nancy.”
“I heard.”
Louis hoped it wasn’t true, but he figured it was.
Nancy, for godsake.
She was one of the nicest people you could hope to meet. When Michelle and he had moved into the neighborhood, she had been the first one at the door. She brought over a wicker basket with a bottle of wine and a loaf
of bread in it. That’s the kind of person she was.
Outside, Louis tried Michelle’s number on her cell. Nothing.
“Maybe she’s still at work.”
Louis shrugged. “She should have been home an hour ago even if she worked late.”
But he dialed up Farm Bureau anyway. It couldn’t hurt. It was answered on the fourth ring and Louis brightened a bit. “Hello? Carol? Carol, is that you?”
Carol was Michelle’s boss. “Who’s this?”
“Louis. Louis Shears.”
“What do you want?”
Louis was not feeling so bright now. He could hear it in Carol’s voice: the madness. It didn’t have her all the way yet, but she was close. Just teetering on the brink of darkness.
“Is Michelle still there?”
“No, she’s not here. I’m here.”
“Carol, when did she leave?”
“Who cares? What do you want her for, anyway?” There was a smacking sound on the other end that might have been Carol licking her lips. “I’m here, Louis. Why don’t you come down. I’ll wait for you.”
Louis hung up. “C’mon, Macy, let’s get out of here.”
They ran to the car, but Louis already had the feeling that he was simply too late…
34
“I don’t want to go crazy again,” Macy said as they pulled away from the house. “I don’t want to feel like that again.”
Louis licked his lips, wondering if he should ask what he needed to ask. “Was it…was it very bad?”
Macy just stared straight ahead, but didn’t seem to be so much looking out as looking in. She nodded her head slightly. “It was horrible. It was kind of blurry before, but now I’m remembering more. I mean, I knew what I did, I could recall it all right, but I couldn’t make sense of it.”
“But now you can?”
She nodded. “Yes, I can. I never liked Chelsea…that’s the girl I attacked…I didn’t like her then and I don’t like her now. She’s just a preppy, stuck-up bitch. I know I shouldn’t say that, but that’s all she ever was. She treated me like dirt. Always had. I never did anything to her, I never smarted off to her…nothing. But she always hated me, always had it in for me. She’s just one of those people, right? Oh, look at me, look at how wonderful I am. I’m popular and special so that gives me the right to turn my nose up at everyone and be a snotty, uppity witch. So, yeah, I guess I hated her. I think most kids do, except for the idiots in her little posse and all the boys that drool over her.”
“And you think the way you felt about her, that had something to do with it?”
Macy wrapped her arms around herself. “Yeah, I think so. Something in me always hated her, you know?”
Louis nodded. “I know, believe me, I know. Kids like Chelsea are nothing new, Macy. They’ve always been around, always treating other kids like shit. There were plenty of them when I was in school, too. Most of ‘em need a good kick in the ass or a good slap across the face, but they never get it. The social elite. Most of ‘em have money and think they’re better than everyone else. That kind of nonsense starts at home and if the parents don’t jump all over it when they see it, it only gets worse and worse and then what you have is a monster on your hands.”
No, Louis did not have kids of his own, but plenty of his friends did and he saw it first hand. Spoiled, demanding, snotty brats that became impossible teenagers. Parents usually spoiled kids out of love, but that was the wrong kind of love. They weren’t doing them any favors by letting them think they were better than anyone else and that the whole world simply existed for their convenience. Louis didn’t know Chelsea Paris-thank God-but he’d known plenty of others like her. Kids so wrapped up in themselves and their own fleeting teenage food chain, spoiled and bossy and whiny, that when graduation came and they were thrust out into the real world, they were totally unprepared for it.
You were the most popular kid in school, eh? Prom queen? Cheerleader? Varsity quarterback? You knew all the right people and moved in all the right circles?
So what?
Once you stepped out of high school, the world at large did not care. It did not exist to assuage your ego or worship you or hand you things on basis of who you knew and who you blew. All that snotty, selfish, uppity behavior came back to bite you in the ass.
Show me a snobby little teen princess, Louis thought, and I’ll show you a girl in for real trouble, in for a very rude awakening.
“Well, that’s Chelsea, all right,” Macy said. “A monster from hell. Her and Shannon Kittery and all the rest.”
“Kittery, eh? Her mom must be Rosemary Kittery. I went to school with her. She married Ron Kittery. Back then she was just Rosemary Summers. Great to look at, but with all the personality of a rattlesnake. Cheerleader, prom queen, the works. A petite little blonde with a big set of…ah, well the boys liked her. Ron Kittery was a stoner in school. Just a total waste. Rosemary wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence. Then she got out of high school and found herself in the real world. Ron’s mom and dad had money, Rosemary’s old man-Shannon’s grandpa-was broke. He was president of First Federal, but they lived way beyond their means and he started embezzling. He was caught, of course. They hushed it up, but this is a small town and everyone knew. So what was little miss prom queen to do? She pursued Ron until he finally married her. And now she’s turned out a carbon copy of herself in Shannon, I see.”
Macy allowed herself to laugh. “Petite, blonde rattlesnake with big boobs? Yup, that’s Shannon the magnificent.”
They shared a chuckle over that and Louis was surprised, and not for the first time, how parents often managed to duplicate themselves, good or bad, in their children. It was actually kind of scary, when you came right down to it.
Macy was silent for awhile, then she said, “That’s what it was about, Louis. That’s what it was really about. I know that now. I’d hated Chelsea for years. And something inside me decided enough was enough. It rose up inside me, only I couldn’t stop it. We all have crazy thoughts, but we don’t act on ‘em, do we?”
Louis nodded. “So you think that this…whatever this craziness is…it just plays on something already inside you? Lifts inhibitions? Maybe frees the beast within?”
“Yes!” Macy said, sitting up and startling Louis. “That’s it! I always maybe wanted to punch her in the face or something, but I didn’t. I kept those thoughts in the back of my head where they belonged. But this…whatever it was…it brought them to the front and instead of being able to say, no, you can’t do that, I was like, well, why not? Why not give that little witch what she’s been begging for?”
It made sense, this thing freeing all the darkness and black thoughts of the people of Greenlawn. Inhibitions neutralized, social constraints eroded, morals and ethics ground to ash…nothing left to stand in the way of your darkest, most repressed and dangerous fantasies. And when you yanked away things like civilization and morality…what was left? Just the malign shadowy side of the human animal, the barbarity and bloodlust and savagery which is our inheritance. We were animals…hunting and killing and raping, smashing anything or anyone that got in our way.
It was sobering, very sobering.
But the same dilemma remained: what was the vector, the mechanism which had infected those people? And why had it gotten to Macy and then released her?
Maybe Earl Gould wasn’t far from the truth. Maybe he was, in fact, absolutely correct.
God help us, Louis, but we will exterminate ourselves! Beasts of the jungle! Killing, slaughtering, raping, pillaging! An unconscious genetic urge will unmake all we have made, gut civilization, and harvest the race like cattle as we are overwhelmed by primitive urges and race memory run wild!
Louis found that he was sweating.
He was terrified.
Was this how it ended? In a primal fall? A new Dark Ages of savagery that threw the human clock back 20,000 years if not fifty or a hundred?
Louis did not dare repeat any of Earl’s theories to Mac
y. It was enough that he knew. More than enough. Earl. Good God, Earl. After the run in with Dick Starling, Earl and Maureen had not been out in the yard when Macy and Louis got out there to the car. And honestly, Louis just didn’t have the heart to go looking for them.
Macy was just staring at her hands now as they drove. “The thing was, Louis, I…I didn’t feel in control, you know? Maybe those thoughts were in my mind like they’re in anyone, but it wasn’t like I made a… conscious decision to set them loose. It was like being in a car and somebody else was at the wheel.”
Louis swallowed. “Did you feel like you were being…I don’t know…compelled somehow or controlled, something like that?”
She shrugged. “I guess. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was like something else was in charge. I know that sounds stupid, the Devil made me do it or something, but that’s how it felt. And when it went away, I just burst out crying. I was scared, really scared. It felt like I was possessed or something, being taken over. It’s dumb, but that’s how it felt.”
Louis sighed. “It’s not dumb, Macy. But it is disturbing.”
And it was that, all right. It felt like I was possessed or something, being taken over. That was merely Macy’s subjective impression, of course, but if Earl was right, if he was right, then this possession was not some fantasy like diabolic influence or even mind control exactly, but something inherent in the human condition. Something ancient and absolutely evil.
“I guess I don’t care what happens as long as I don’t go nuts again,” Macy said.
“Maybe you’re immune now,” Louis said.