Chapter 4
Al gunned it down the road. An overturned truck blocked the way south so she headed north, not really thinking of destination, just trying to get away, her eyes peeled on the mists. Sometimes she thought she saw a shape, an interruption in the roll of it. Once, a beam of sunlight hit the side of the car. But the pavement caught fire, and she fought not to close her eyes, fought to keep her hands on the wheel and Percival moving forward, her speed wavering as her uncertainty and fear paralyzed her limbs.
She took deep breaths and let them wash over her. Gruff was pale beside her, Molly reaching around the seat to comfort him.
“We need to pull over to patch you up, Gruff,” Alva said, turning the wheel as much as she dared to hug the curb, and stopped.
The world outside was eerily quiet, holding its breath for what would happen next. Or having taken its final one.
Al pushed the thought from her mind and turned to the thief.
“While we patch him up, maybe you can tell us a bit about why I shouldn’t beat you to a pulp with Big Bertha?”
His eyes grew wide again, his mouth thin. To Molly’s credit, she grabbed the wrench and held it before her threateningly. The thief leaned back in his seat, looking dejected.
“My name is Hector. Hector Henry Featherson.” He said. He glanced up at Al through the rearview mirror but quickly glanced away to look outside. “I was trapped, and just got free. I thought I could stop it. I thought that if I got the watch in time...” He leaned his forehead against the window, closing his eyes and fogging up the glass.
Al focused on Gruff’s shoulder, pulling out a sling from the first aid kit and wrapping his arm, securing it. Gruff’s eyes were closed, his breathing shallow and his skin clammy.
“You holding up okay, Gruff?” she asked.
“Never been better,” he whispered. She gave him some painkillers and offered him her bottle of water. He took them and leaned back against the seat.
“So,” Gruff said, his voice gaining some strength already. “What’s this about trying to stop this?”
Al turned around. Hector caught her eye and she thought she saw him flush before he looked away again. He reminded her of a skittish animal. She exchanged a glance with Molly, who still held Big Bertha like it was the last water on earth. Her best friend merely shrugged.
“It’s, ah, it sounds crazy.” His voice was soft. He ran a hand in his semi-long brown hair. Not bad looking, but she’d be more than happy to beat the pretty out of him to get some answers.
“You know what sounds crazy?” Molly piped up. “Sunbeams that set fires. Tombstones that move. Mists that seem to act with a purpose. That sounds crazy. Now dish up your crazy so we can add it to the menu, or I’ll just save your face for dessert.”
Al fought against a grin. Hector looked at Molly and sighed. “Not the most ladylike, are you?” he mumbled.
“You think she’s not ladylike,” Al said, “you should see me. Once she’s through with you, I’ll finish you off. Start with my stuff, thief. What were you looking to get? I assume you’re the one who broke into my apartment?”
He looked embarrassed. “Yes. I had to, to try and stop this. To find the watch.”
“The watch I bought? You stole it all right. I’ve got half a mind to…”
“No, I mean, not that watch. Stella’s watch.”
Al’s eyebrow shot up. “You mean my great-grandmother’s watch? Why the hell would you try and steal that? How do you even know her name?” Her hand automatically went to her jacket pocket to make sure it was still safe in there. She felt the shape through the fabric and relaxed.
Her movement didn’t escape Hector’s attention. Nor did his attention escape Molly’s eye. “If you so much as breathe her way wrong, I will smash you.”
Al didn’t know if Molly had the strength to smash anyone, but she could certainly do some major damage with Big Bertha in her hands.
“I won’t. I won’t, I just, if I can have the watch, I might be able to slow it down. Or you can. You can crank it yourself and slow things down.”
“I can’t. It’s broken.”
“What do you mean, it’s broken?” His panic echoed in the car.
“I mean it doesn’t work. Never has as long as I’ve had it.”
“But… It should. It shouldn’t break down. I made the best watch I could…”
“Wait, what, hold on,” Molly said before Al could jump in herself. “You made the watch? How the hell does that work? You’re what, thirty, tops? That watch is like a hundred years old!”
Hector looked out the windshield, as if gauging his options. He sighed and leaned back, giving Al a slight smile. “You look like her, you know. Stella Alwilda Taverner. You look so much like her.”
Gruff, who’d been silent, opened his eyes.
“Al…” He grabbed her arm and she looked to where he looked, their right. The ground rumbled beneath them.
Al was still deciding what exactly she would do when a transport truck rumbled past her, blowing its horn continuously. It was gone as quickly as it had arrived, swallowed by the mist. As soon as they could no longer see it, they couldn’t hear it, either.
“Let’s go,” Gruff whispered. Al nodded and pressed on the gas. She was terrified another truck would come barreling out of the mists and take them out. Percival had won his fair share of scrapes, but that was hardly a fair contest.
“Al?” Molly said. “Where are we going? What do we do?”
“You seem to know more about this,” Al said to Hector. “Where do we go? Don’t talk too much, I need to hear what’s going on out there.”
“We need somewhere safe where I can fix the watch and get it going again.”
“My house,” Gruff said. “I should check on the missus. She’s probably fine, old spitfire, that one. But still…”
Al nodded and spoke gently. “Of course. But we have to get you to the hospital first, Gruff. It’s only two minutes away.”
“Al, hospital’s gonna be crazy. Let’s check on Gretchen first, then we can go. You saw how many accidents there were? And no one in the cars? They’ve probably all headed to the hospital.”
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Hector whispered from the back.
Al turned on the radio. No stations were coming through, as though the mists were managing to stop even their signals. A thousand questions jumbled in her mind, quarreling with each other on their importance, but one stood out among all others. “I have to find my sister Pete. Are things like this all over?”
Hector looked puzzled. “Your sister’s name is Pete?”
“Nickname. Focus. Could she be in danger?”
He looked outside the window. “I think so. I don’t see why it wouldn’t be. But I might be able to slow it down. Just for a little bit.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Molly mumbled, still clutching Big Bertha. “Am I the only one here who thinks this doesn’t make sense?”
Nobody answered. Gruff’s old house was ten minutes away. It seemed so far and so long to Al. She wanted her little sister by her side now. She wanted to hold her tight and never let her go. She loosened her grip on the steering wheel. Her hands were starting to cramp up.
“If I give you the watch,” Al said, looking back at Hector, who still hesitated to meet her gaze. “You have to promise to give it back. It’s mine, and it’s all I have left from my family, so you give it back. Understood?”
Hector looked her in the eye this time, his brown eyes sad in the rearview mirror. He nodded.
Before she could reach for the watch, something scratched the side of the car. It sounded like claws.
“Faster, faster, faster…” Gruff started whispering. Alva pressed on the gas just as lilac-blooming branches collapsed on the windshield, cracking it. Screams echoed in the car and outside of it. A man’s face followed the branches, twisted by pain as small buds pushed through his skin, erupting in lilac petals. Staring at him, Al�
�s foot loosened from the gas pedal and Percival barely coasted forward.
His mouth formed a perfect “o,” as wide as his eyes were. Al couldn’t tear her eyes away. From deep within his throat something was pushing its way up, fuzzy insect legs pushing the lips apart as they worked their way out.
“Al, go!” Gruff screamed. Al slammed on the gas and the man went flying. Part of her wanted to stop and make sure he was all right, but a much stronger part of her was terrified and just wanted to keep driving, as quickly and as far as she could.
The front tires jumped up and then the back ones, like they’d hit a speed bump. Hector went flying, hitting his head on the roof of the car.
“Put your seatbelt on, idiot,” Molly hissed, reaching around him to fasten it when he just looked at her confused.
“Speed bump. Just a speed bump,” Al muttered, her fingers cold on the steering wheel, knowing full well that were no speed bumps here.
“Speed bump,” Gruff confirmed, clutching the car door with his good hand.
If they could cross the bridge, they’d be in a more populated area, nearing downtown. There would be help, and people who might know what’s happening. They’d check in on Gruff’s wife, find shelter, contact Pete and get her.
Find safety.
The mists shifted and cleared, the sun streaming onto the car. Al jumped when it touched her skin, but it didn’t burn. The metal structure of the small bridge jutted around them. They could see clearly to the other side of the bridge, ten metres in length at most.
The front wheels were on the bridge before Hector screamed from behind: “Don’t go on the bridge!”
Al slammed on the brakes, but too late – the car was on the bridge.
“Back up slowly,” Hector whispered from the back. Al nodded and shifted Percival in reverse, but the car wouldn’t budge. The wheels skidded like they were on pure ice.
A shadow to her left made her jump. A man walked by, his coat torn on the side. And another, dragging his feet, wearing only a bathrobe. On the other side of the car, several more walked by, men, women, even children, dragging their feet, their faces slack. Some walked to the middle of the bridge. Others stayed around the car.
Al stopped pressing on the gas and stared at them. No one said a word or breathed. Al glanced at the back seat. Hector was looking intently at the people around them. He leaned forward and she leaned back so he could whisper in her ear. “We’ll have one chance. Get ready to move when I tell you to.”
She nodded and pointed back and forth, raising her shoulders as though asking a question. He shrugged. It didn’t matter which way. She shifted to the first gear, one foot on the clutch and the other on the brake, and waited for his signal.
He looked intently around him. The people continued swaying. The mists bookending the bridge shimmered in the sunlight, translucent wisps dancing toward them. The mists stretched around the car and around each person, not wrapping them fully but keeping some distance, as though inviting them to dance.
Hector narrowed his eyes and looked intently at the wisps nearest them. Al still held her breath, and Gruff and Molly were so silent she could easily forget they were there.
The mists buckled and shapes began to form, gossamer strings turning into large cloaks and hoods, hands stretched out toward the people, who still just swayed there. Translucent hands appeared from misty cloaks and reached for each person. Hector placed his hand on Alva’s shoulder. She glanced back and he held up his finger, as though indicating soon.
Her foot left the brakes and trembled over the gas pedal. Percival was stuck anyway and wasn’t going anywhere. For now.
She fixed her eyes on the man nearest her, the one wearing a bathrobe and still holding a spilled cup of coffee in his loose hand. Alva steadied her breath, loosened her grip on the steering wheel and waited.
The misty hands reached forward, not for the man’s face, but for his chest. The moment stretched into eternity at the hand lingered there, holding the edge of the bathrobe, the translucent cloak shimmering with tiny rainbows of light.
The sun grew brighter, rainbows danced in the air around them, turning beads of water into gems of light. Gossamer hands tightened on clothing.
Columns of water exploded up and Molly screamed. Hector’s hand tightened on Al’s shoulder and she slammed on the gas, but the wheels were still trapped. The columns collapsed on the bridge, the metal groaning, streams of river breaking apart to avoid each beam and support of the bridge.
The water flashed away and giant dark horses, large teeth bared, trampled the ground around them. The gossamer figures clutched clothing as the horses attacked without pause, their screams echoing against the wall of mist.
They fell on the people, biting them, tearing off limb and head, jets of blood interrupting the perfect prisms and rainbows. The gossamer figures just kept holding the clothing as they became blood soaked, as the silent bodies rolled out of them, to be fully consumed, their blood a river on the bridge.
Molly kept whimpering in the back of the car. Al could barely hear her over the sounds of the horses, their hoofs like thunder.
“It won’t go!” Al screamed as she kept pressing on the gas, the car spinning its wheels, burnt rubber almost covering the stench of blood.
“What do we do?” she looked back to Hector, the only one who seemed to have any idea what was going on.
“Don’t get out, but can you open the window a crack?” He seemed puzzled as he looked down.
Percival was hardly fancy, with handles to lower the windows. “Can do from my seat,” Al said. Her father had loved the two-door feature of the muscle car, but Al didn’t always find it the most convenient. And now was definitely one of those less than convenient times.
He nodded. “Get ready.”
Al kept her foot on the gas pedal, ignoring the burning smell of her tires skidding uselessly.
Hector reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked like sand. He carefully took some and divvied it up between all of them. Al let go of the gas to take it. Molly looked at Hector with big eyes. “You expect us to go out to put that under the wheels?”
He shook his head quickly. “Just let it drop by your window. It won’t be a perfect circle, but it should be enough to get us off the bridge.”
The horses neighed loudly again. They were circling, looking for other victims. So far, they were ignoring Percival and her passengers. The gossamer creatures were more solid now, their cloaks dark and brown as they held the bloody clothing. They headed to the edge of the bridge and seemed to jump or fall off. The horses were slick with blood. They looked around, snorting; their stamping hoofs making the whole bridge shake.
“As soon as we open the window, they’ll get our scent.” Hector instructed. “They can’t get far from the river, so we just have to slam it and go.”
“Okay,” Al said. She looked at Gruff and Molly. “Molly, can you handle Gruff’s window?”
Molly nodded and leaned forward. She still looked terrified, but she was holding it together. Gruff looked grim in determination, and exhausted.
“On three, we lower the windows, and throw down the sand. Close your window as soon as it’s done.”
All took a deep breath, trying to ignore the blood splattered on her window, or the flank of a large horse as it stomped by.
“Three, two, one…” She lowered her window with two quick cranks of her left hand, threw down the sand and started cranking it back up. The horses screamed and one of them slammed its massive flank against Percival’s right side, the car sliding sideways. Al slammed on the gas, muttering prayers under her breath, and the car took off, the tires skidding just a bit. The horses seemed momentarily startled by the car’s quick movement and didn’t give chase right away, which was probably what saved them. They slammed into the mists and Al was grateful for its cover. Grateful for the blindness, if it stopped her from having to witness more atrocities like that.
“Al, slow down,” Gruff
said from beside her. She was well above the speed limit and forced herself to slow down. They were on Main Street now. If help was to be found, it would be here. And more people, hopefully. The chances of smashing into someone or something became very real.
Main Street stretched quietly before them. Al went slowly now, looking for people. She thought she heard the sound of a siren, but it was quickly swallowed by the mists.
“We need to find help,” Al said to no one in particular. She was just trying to break the silence before it crushed them all.
“No one can help you now,” Hector said. “I have to fix the watch. Buy us time.”
“Buy us time from what?” Al said as she looked up. Something dangled over the car from a lamppost. She slowed down a bit as feet hit the windshield and gently slid up, the bare skin sliding on the still slick blood on Percival. Al started her windshield wipers without thinking.
“Time to get ready, I suppose. Or maybe even stop it completely.”
Something jumped on her right, smashed against her side window and jumped away. Everyone screamed. The window wasn’t broken, and Al accelerated.
“It’s going to get worse,” Hector mumbled.
“We’re not far from my place,” Gruff said. “We can get shelter there while we get our bearings.”
“What?” Al said, looking to Hector. “What exactly are we trying to stop?”
“What’s going on?” Molly whispered. “Those people on the bridge… those horses… that’s not even… how does that even happen?”
“It’s the veil between the worlds,” Hector said, so softly they strained to hear. “The veil between our world and the Old World. It’s collapsing. And while we’ve mostly forgotten about the old folk, they’ve been studying us and biding their time.”
No one spoke. Al had a thousand questions pop into her mind to vanish at once, seeing the grief and fear on Hector’s face. Only one question mattered, lit in her mind with the fury of a thousand suns.
She just wanted to know how to be safe. How to keep her own safe.
If even half the fear on Hector’s face was justified, she wasn’t sure safe was even possible.
Nigh - Book 1 Page 7