by Michael Bray
“Yeah, and look how that worked out,” Goodson snapped.
“We couldn’t have known how things would turn out,” Marshall said. “The damn internet is to blame. It seems we went overnight from our own quiet, sleepy slice of suburbia to a paranormal hotspot for the curious. Even so, sacrifices were made. Make no mistake.”
“And what were they?”
“I quit my job.” Mitch said. “After I falsified those reports, I didn’t feel like I could continue. There isn’t a day go by when I don’t think about what I did. The only reason I can sleep at night is knowing I did the right thing.”
“What about you Henry? What did you lose in all this?”
“What did I lose?” Marshall snapped. “I lost good friends, people who used to make this town tick. I lost the town I grew up in. I had to stand by and watch as it transformed into an ugly, overcrowded shithole like every other major city in the world. Don’t you dare talk to me about loss Goodson, because let me tell you, you don’t know the half of it.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you Henry,” Goodson said, reigning in his frustration. “This is just a big shock to me, and to be honest, I’m not really sure why you brought me here.”
“I thought it would have been obvious by now,” Marshall said with a slick smile. “I want you to use this information to make sure that Samson’s music deal collapses.”
“Is that ethical?” Goodson asked, shuffling in his seat.
“Probably not. Even so, I’m not interested in ethics. The way I see it, the Samsons owe this town a favor, even if they don’t know it. Make sure word gets around. Make sure people know it would be bad for any company’s public image to work with Steve Samson. Don’t go overboard with details, just leak enough to suggest there may be a pending follow-up investigation into his involvement in the Hope House fire. Just enough to frighten off any would-be customers.”
“Are you sure you want to do this Henry? They have a kid and they’re already flat broke. This could really push them over the edge.”
“That’s exactly what I want. Don’t worry, if they do as I ask, I’ll make sure they have more than enough money to live comfortably for the rest of their lives. This is just a necessary step.”
“Like I said to you earlier, this situation is making me very uncomfortable. I don’t like it.”
“Look, all you have to do is release the information and I’ll do the rest. Think of it this way, all they have to do to turn their current unfortunate situation around is accept my offer. It makes perfect sense. Don’t you agree?”
“I suppose so, I just don’t like it.”
“As Mitch will tell you. If you listen to me and go along with my advice, everything will be alright. Remember, everything I do is for the greater good. Can I trust you to do what needs to be done?”
Goodson looked from Marshall to the folder, then at Mitch, who was doing all he could to avoid eye contact. With a sigh, Goodson scooped up the folder from the table.
“Leave it with me. I’ll make sure it gets done.”
“Excellent,” Marshall said, clapping Goodson on the shoulder. “This will work out just fine, you wait and see.”
Goodson wanted to ask what would happen if they didn’t go along with it, however something in Marshall’s eyes told him he wouldn’t like the answer. Either way, he was glad he’d arranged the meeting with Rollins. This was something else he was sure he would be interested in knowing.
CHAPTER 9
“There he is,” Scott whispered.
They were crouched in the undergrowth on the outer edge of the circle. Cody was standing in the center, arms down by his side, face turned up to the sky.
“What the fuck is he doing?” Alex whispered as he shifted position.
“This is all he does. He just stands there, staring up into space. He never moves. He was here for five hours one day last week, just standing there. He didn’t even move when it rained.”
“What do you suppose he’s doing?” Carrie asked.
“Who knows? It looks like he’s praying or something. It’s freaky.” Scott replied.
“Why don’t we go and ask him?” Alex said, and before anyone could argue, he stood up and strode towards the center of the circle.
“Hey, numbnuts, what the hell are you doing out here?” he said as he swaggered towards Cody.
“Hey man, I’m talking to you.” Alex stopped short, and for a second, fear stabbed at his chest. Cody was completely oblivious to his presence, eyes half-closed, mouth open. A thin crust of drool stuck to his cheek.
He’s dead.
The thought entered Alex’s mind for a split-second, then he noticed Cody’s breathing. Even so, Alex felt something coming off the other boy, some kind of aura which didn’t feel good. It was as if everything had slowed to a crawl. The stifling silence served as the perfect backdrop while Alex stared at his friend. Everything appeared to have perfect clarity. Every pore on Cody’s pale, waxy skin stood out in perfect detail every tiny blood vessel in the corner of his eyes alive and vivid. Again, Alex was reminded of a death mask of some kind, and was consumed with the idea that he wasn’t looking at Cody. Instead he was sure he was watching a terrible, hellish thing dressed in his friend’s skin. A Cody mask. He could almost imagine the teenager’s flesh rippling while whatever lived underneath moved and squirmed, staring into the depressingly overcast sky.
“Cody, talk to me man,” Alex whispered, the act of being an overconfident prick forgotten. “The guys are worried, come on, let’s talk about this.”
Alex put a hand on Cody’s shoulder. It was like a trigger, some kind of switch transforming Cody from passive sky-gazer to lunatic. He screamed the most painful, anguished guttural roar of rage imaginable. There was only a split-second in which to register it before Cody tackled him to the ground. Such was the ferocity of the attack, Alex never even tried to defend himself. He felt vice-like fingers sink into the soft flesh of his neck, making such things as breathing a luxury he no longer had. Cody was glaring, eyes wide, veins throbbing in his temple as he whispered and muttered. Just as unconsciousness was starting to take Alex into its soothing grasp, he felt the pressure release on his throat as Cody slid his hands up his face and wedged his thumbs into his eye sockets.
Even worse than the horror of what was happening, and the absolute and utter helplessness he felt as he lay there on the ground, were the voices. They hissed and spoke with such cruelty and venom that any concern of what was happening to his physical body became secondary to the threats those disembodied vocalizations made.
“What the hell man, get off him!” Scott yelled as he grabbed Cody around the neck and attempted to pull him away. Emma, too, was now clawing at Cody’s forearms, trying to pry his fingers away from popping Alex’s eyeballs. Cody was supernaturally strong, his tendons as taut as steel wire, muscles bulging under his skin as he crushed the intruder.
From his position on the ground, Alex was only vaguely aware of all this. The voices in his head were trying to convince him to let go, and allow Cody to pop his eyeballs out onto his cheek. They said he wouldn’t need them, that they would be his vision and guide him away from his mundane existence to a place far beyond human comprehension.
He relaxed his grip on Cody’s wrists, allowing the pressure of the thumbs against his eyelids to increase. He was waiting for the wet popping sound to come when the pressure was released. He blinked away the white spots dancing across his vision, then strove to piece together what had happened. Cody lay face-down in the dirt. Beside him, Scott was holding the thick stub of a tree branch in both hands, breathing heavily with an expression of shock and revulsion.
Emma was shaking and crying as Carrie comforted her.
“You okay?” Scott whispered.
Alex nodded, pushing himself up onto his elbows.
“What the fuck happened?” Alex croaked.
“I hit him. I didn’t have a choice,” Scott said, glancing at the thick branch in his hands and tossing it asi
de. “What the hell did you say to him?”
“I didn’t say anything, I just tried to get his attention.”
“You must have said something,” Carrie hissed. “We all know what you’re like Alex. That mouth of yours…” she shook her head and turned her attention back to Emma.
“I swear, I didn’t say anything. He just lost it. The guy’s crazy.”
Alex got to his feet, brushing dirt from his clothes.
“You gonna call the police?” Scott asked.
Alex shook his head. “No. I’m going home. If this prick wants to stand out here and stare into the sky it’s up to him.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
A mountain of burning bodies.
A river of blood.
A vast sea of the dead.
Emma being violated by dagger-toothed tribesmen again and again and again as the rest looked on, eyelids sliced from their faces so they couldn’t look away…
“No,” he said, shaking his head and trying to rid those despicable ideas from his mind which had been planted there by the voices. “No, not a thing,” he repeated.
“So what do we do now? I mean, I hit him pretty hard…” Scott stepped away from Cody’s motionless body and looked to his friends.
“Like I just said, I’m going home.”
They all looked at Alex as he straightened his shirt.
“You can’t just go,” Carrie said, flicking her eyes to Cody.
“Why not? I’m sorry if I seem a little bit put out here, but that asshole did just try to kill me. He looks like he’s breathing, so I don’t think anyone can blame me if I want to be out of here before he wakes up.”
“We need to help him. He could be hurt,” Emma said.
“It’s obvious he wanted to be out here. This fuckin’ place gives me the jitters. I don’t like it and I don’t mind saying so.”
“Oh come on, there’s nothing out here,” Carrie said.
“No, I feel it too. I felt it the night we camped here,” Emma said, locking eyes with Alex. “None of us should be here.”
“We can’t just leave him out here. He could have a concussion.” Carrie said.
“Fuck him.” Alex hissed.
“How can you say that? You’re supposed to be friends.”
“That was before the prick tried to kill me!” Alex replied, holding Carrie’s gaze. “I’m going. If anyone else wants a ride, this is your one and only chance.”
“He needs a hospital, he could have a concussion!” Carrie shouted.
Alex glanced at Cody on the floor, then at his friends. “Whatever’s wrong with him can’t be fixed with medicine. Do yourselves a favor and stay away from him. Now who wants a ride?”
He looked at them, waiting for someone to come with him, if only so he didn’t have to walk through the woods alone.
“What about you Scott? I’m sure you don’t wanna be around when he wakes up and finds out you clocked him in the head.”
“I can’t just leave him. I need to know he’s okay.”
“Emma?”
She looked at the dirt between her feet as Carrie stared at him like he was some kind of scumbag rather than victim.
“I get it,” he hissed. “Message received loud and clear.”
“Alex, please—”
“Fuck you all!” he said, cutting Emma off. He hesitated for a little longer, then turned and strode away. As he was swallowed by the forest and those awful words came back to him, he increased his pace. At some point he began to run, not stopping until he was in his car and racing away from the hotel grounds, his tires leaving great gouges in the earth as he fishtailed away as fast as he dared drive.
CHAPTER 10
Melody was making her way through the snow, the uneven ground and freezing temperatures failing to wake her from her trance. She had passed over the water, and was now heading towards the circular clearing. The wind raged, while the trees shook violently, pushing her onwards and guiding her to her destination. She entered the clearing, came to a halt in its center, and stood motionless with the knife at her side. He appeared like a thin mist rolling out of the trees. As he formed, some deep part of her subconscious snapped awake, making her aware of everything and that she was in danger, yet also powerless to do anything other than observe. Her body was no longer hers to control. The Gogoku Elder who’d appeared to the dreaming Steve stood before her. He took the knife from her and tossed it aside. “No,” he said directly into her mind, “not this way.” She nodded absently and waited. “Let me show you,” the Elder said. “Let me show you what you have done.” They came from the trees. At first they were nothing but vague mists, formless tendrils snaking across the ground. She would have done anything to be able to turn her head away, but her body forced her to look on as they formed into the shades of the dead. She was so preconditioned to the notion of ghosts being floating, transparent things, that it took her a moment to accept them for what they were: they appeared as solid and real as she herself was, and although she was desperate to scream and run, she was frozen – a confused prisoner in her own body. The Gogoku smiled at her, but it was humorless. “Look upon the dead. Why do you not heed our warnings?”
“We didn’t know,” she said – or at least she thought she did. It was then that she realized the conversation was taking place entirely in her head. In reality, both she and the Gogoku were silent.
“You were warned. And now you will pay with the life of the unborn.” Panic swept through her, only serving to highlight her absolute helplessness and frustration.
“I need to wake up! Please let me wake up.” The Gogoku smiled. The voice in her head now just a sinister whisper.
“This is no dream.”
“Just leave us alone!” she pleaded.
“Give us what grows inside you.”
“Please!” she screamed in her head, even as her physical body stared into the darkness.
“Give us what grows inside you,” repeated the Gogoku, and the other spirits of the dead began to repeat the mantra while moving closer to her.
“I won’t let you hurt my baby,” she roared, and in her mind’s eye, hugged her own stomach protectively.
“You have no choice. We are in control.”
“I won’t do it!” she sobbed, but the Gogoku tribesman only grinned.
“We shall see.”
She snapped awake, heart trip-hammering in her chest as the familiarity of her surroundings and the soothing tones of street traffic calmed her. It was a little after two in the morning, and she was grateful she hadn’t screamed. She turned towards Steve, intending to make sure she hadn’t disturbed him, and was surprised to see him awake and watching her.
“You okay?” he whispered.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Did I wake you?”
“No. I haven’t really slept yet. Nightmare?”
She didn’t answer at first, instead snuggling into the crook of his shoulder. He put an arm around her and stroked her lower back.
“I dreamed about Oakwell. It’s the first time in years,” she said into his chest.
“I dreamed about it too a few nights ago.”
She lifted her head and looked at him in the gloom. “Really?”
“Yeah. I think it’s because it’s all being dragged up again. People like Goodson don’t think of the effect it has on the people who had to live through it.”
“You think he’s responsible for the sale being pulled?”
“Almost definitely.”
“Why would he?”
“Why else? The sale was our lifeline. By pulling it out from under us it puts their offer back on the table. Or at least, that’s what they hope.”
“Maybe we’re just being paranoid?”
“I don’t know about that. All I know is yesterday it was all smiles and they were prepping to send the money. This morning they couldn’t wait to pull the plug on the entire thing.”
“And they wouldn’t tell you why?”
“No, just gave
me some vague crap about how working with me wouldn’t be good for their company reputation. I would bet anything Goodson had something to do with it.”
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
“Well we won’t be giving in and accepting Goodson’s offer; that much I can tell you.”
“No, I mean what are we going to do as far as affording to live? We’re only just hanging on Steve. We’re behind on rent, Isaac needs some new clothes, and there’s the medical bills…”
“I know I know.” Steve sighed. “Something will come up.”
She sat up, propping herself up on one elbow and looking at him in the gloom.
“What if it doesn’t?”
“It will.”
“We can’t rely on maybes. We need to do something to make sure we can keep going. Every day that goes by, I feel like we’re closer to the edge.”
“It’s just a rough patch.”
“Lasting this long? Come on, we both know it’s more serious.”
“I don’t know what you want me to do,” he snapped.
“I’m not blaming you—”
“—Yes you are. If I wasn’t such a mess we wouldn’t be in this position. I’m no use for anything since the fire. I can’t even hold a pen anymore.”
“You think I don’t know? You think I don’t feel guilty every time I look at you? I feel responsible.”
“I keep telling you, Mel, it was my decision to do what I did. Mine alone. I don’t regret it.”
“Look, we’re going off track here. We need to figure out what we intend to do about this situation. Goodson is offering us a hell of a lot of money.”
“I get it, really I do. Think about it though. Could you see yourself going back there after what happened? Are those wounds you’re willing to see reopened?”
“No, definitely not,” she whispered as she lay back down. “The fact is we have to do something, but waiting around hoping everything will be alright isn’t going to do it.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know, I keep half-thinking we could go up there just for a day or two. There will be people around. Maybe it won’t even be like last time. Then I think about what happened to us up there, and even though time has passed, I don’t feel like I could face it again,” she whispered as she stroked his scarred chest.