“How the hell should I know? There was shit falling down all around us.”
Frank looked up at Tim, aggravated at his lack of sensitivity. But rather than chew him out, the clotted blood on the side of his face, the patch of hair where that bear had taken a big chunk and the swollen lip and cut chin, made him realize Tim had been through enough already. They all had.
“You got that shirt I gave you?” Frank said, calm yet assertive.
“Yeah, but it’s pretty much covered in blood.”
“Go get it anyway.”
Tim nodded and rounded the front of the truck.
“What’s happening?” Joana asked Tim just as he poked his head in to get the bloody shirt.
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t look like he’s breathing. I think he got hit when we were leaving the woods and he didn’t say anything.”
“We got to do something…”
“Can’t you see we’re doing it?” Tim lifted the shirt that he had used on his lip and left Joana sitting in the back seat.
Joana leaned up to get a better look, but was unable to see anything from her vantage point. Paranoid, she looked over her shoulder once more at the winding road behind them. This was just no good. Couldn’t they just have Tim drive and let Frank look Outlaw over while the car was still in motion? Those things were still out there back at the wreckage. And with nowhere else to go, surely they would be working their way down the highway back toward town. Just thinking about it, her stomach tightened and she felt something climbing her throat to the surface. Hell, if the man wasn’t breathing, then just leaving him and moving on would be fine by her. She thought about that again and realized the cruelty behind it. She was no better than Tim. The excitement he got from killing the bear on the roof. She was no different. Maybe they were actually made for each other. Tim was right. It’s us or them. And the same was true for Outlaw. It was us or him.
That same feeling rose in her throat again just thinking about how much this night was changing her. Her nerves were working against her.
Joana opened her car door, stepped out, and vomited. The warm wet cascade of bile splashed across the pavement at her feet.
She groaned, wiping her mouth, and looking back the way they had come. Still no bears in sight.
With her stomach temporarily relieved, she stepped around her open door and took a look at Outlaw. He was lying on the pavement, leaning against the side of the Jimmy. His skin was pale and his shirt unbuttoned and pulled back. His chest was covered in blood and hair. More blood than hair, at that. A quarter sized hole just above his right pectoral muscle seeped crimson. The blood flowed freely.
“What happened?” Joana asked, smacking her mouth against the foul taste of vomit.
“Something got him, but I don’t know what,” Frank said, leaning over the body. Both of his hands were covered in crimson like he’d been sticking his fingers in a red paint bucket. “I tried to dig it out, but whatever it is, it’s in there pretty deep.”
“Did it go through the other side?”
“Good question…” Frank said, nodding at Joana. “Let’s have a look see. Here, Tim… help me flip him over.”
While Tim and Frank rolled the large man over, Joana found herself staring down the road in both directions. This wasn’t good at all. They were wasting time. And if anything, they were like sitting ducks just camping out in the middle of the road. This was not the place to be. She could just feel it.
“What the fuck is that?” Tim gasped.
“I don’t know…” Frank said.
When Joana looked back down at Outlaw’s unmoving body, she saw it. Whatever it was, it went straight through his chest and all the way to the back just below the skin on the other side of his body. It was round and glowing. The blue pulsing circle made Joana think of that sling the bear had thrown in the park to catch that woman. Then she thought of the stone the bear dropped right after Frank had shot it with the shotgun. That had to be what it was. But even still, how the hell could one of those creatures throw one of those stones so freaking hard, and so freaking fast, that it would dig that deep into Outlaw’s chest like that?
“It’s a stone,” Joana breathed, not even realizing she had spoken out loud.
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Frank said, looking at Joana and then turning to Tim. “Let me see your knife.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to do what I think you are?” Joana swallowed hard, watching Tim hand over his machete.
“He’s already dead,” Frank said, taking the blade and using the sharp end to dig the glowing stone free.
“We don’t have time for this,” Joana said, looking over her shoulder.
Frank groaned. “Got it...” he said, the bloody stone popping free from Outlaw’s back.
It fell from Frank’s hand and skittered across the pavement at his feet. Just as it came to rest next to him they all watched as the glow that had once been there faded away, making the stone just become an average looking rock.
“Here… let me see that,” Joana said, picking it. She wiped the blood off it with her shirt and studied it. The shape, the size, the weight. It was the same. Her mind’s eye flung her through the past back to old man Terry’s backyard. It all seemed so long ago. All those stones she was holding in her shirt while Tim through them at random through the yard. They were just like this one. “These are just like the stones you got from Miss Yortsdayle, Tim.”
Tim glanced at the rock for a second. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit, Tim. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Joana scoffed, done playing games. “This rock is just like the stones you got from that stupid witch. The ones you used to open up all those portals and let those fucking bears loose… you know, those stones.”
Frank stood up, the machete still in his hand. “Do… what?”
Tim took two large steps back.
“Tim got some magic stones from that crazy old lady and used them to open all those portals. He even knew about the field dropping down around us. There’s no way to get out either.”
“What the fuck!” Frank leaped forward, snagging Tim by the shirt collar before he could get away. He slammed him into the side of the Jimmy. His long dark hair danced in front of his skinny pale face. Frank lifted the machete and shouted, “Give me one good fucking reason why I shouldn’t cut you up right here, you little shit.”
“Please… no…”
“Shut it!” Frank glared at Joana, and then turned his attention back to Tim. Still pinned against the Jimmy, Frank shoved him hard again and brought the machete to his face. “So let me get this straight! My friend Outlaw here is dead… because of you. Kathie has gone missing and could be any fucking where, because of you. My fucking dog! My dog, Captain is dead, because of you!”
“Look, man,” Tim protested, trying to squirm free. It was no use.
Joana thought to plead for Tim’s life, but didn’t know what to say. Frank was going to go through with it. She just knew it. It was in his eyes. That maddening look. Maybe Tim deserved it. All of this was his fault. Hell, maybe it was just as much her fault, too. Maybe she should take the blame. Maybe then Frank would take her out of her misery. Then she could die in peace knowing that the situation hadn’t totally changed her, made her entirely heartless. If she was going to die, she wanted to die with at least a little heart left.
“Please, no…” Joana said softly. “He knows what’s happened. Between him and Miss Yortsdayle, we have a chance… Please!”
Frank glared at her hard and long, his eyes never wavering from that mad look of pure carnal hatred. Joana felt her heart race, beating against her chest even faster with the growing tension. Frank’s grip on Tim tightened and he slammed the scrawny gothic kid against the car again.
“Please…” Joana’s voice was soft.
Frank shook his head with disapproval, raised the machete at Tim, and yelled as the blade came down fast.
13
>
The sharp blade slammed down hard. The loud metallic clank echoed across the highway pavement, the machete crashed down hard on the Jimmy’s hood right next to Tim.
Joana screamed while clutching her eyes shut tight.
“What the fuck, yo?” The voice wavered with a hint of distress.
It was Tim’s voice. He was alive.
Joana opened her eyes, her heart still racing. Frank loosened his grip on Tim, but not after shoving him hard once more into the side of the truck. The machete was still in Frank’s hand. A large dent in the Jimmy’s hood next to Tim left scrapes of white paint on the center of the large blade. Frank flung the machete to the ground glaring at both Tim and Joana. The metal blade clinked and pinged against the asphalt, coming to rest in a puddle of blood next to Outlaw’s corpse. The quarter sized hole in the gruff man’s chest had seeped out a tremendous amount of blood in the short time they had been on the street. It pooled around his shirtless body, the work shirt tossed to the side a few feet from the Jimmy.
Joana gripped the small stone in her hand, squeezing it hard as the silence built awkwardly around them.
Frank finally tore his eyes away from the two Goths, and gazed at the tattered and bloody work shirt peeled from Outlaw’s carcass. Breathing a heavy sigh and running his fingers through his hair, he unzipped his coveralls just low enough to reach into his jean pockets. He grabbed his cigarettes and lit one up before stuffing the pack back into his pants. He puffed on the cigarette a few times, exhaling a plume of smoke over his head and then zipped his coveralls back up. He stepped away from the Jimmy and turned his back to Tim and Joana.
“Look… I…” Tim started to say, but Joana locked eyes with him and shook her head.
“Just give him a minute,” she whispered.
Frank stood there in silence, not once looking back at his two new friends. With each tender drag of the cigarette he seemed to calm down. It was clear; he was thinking about something.
When he was finally done, he turned back around, dropped the butt to the cement and stepped on it.
“I just think we—”
Frank shook his head, cutting Joana off. “I don’t know what’s going on or why or how. And frankly, I don’t want to know, okay?” His words were calm and assertive. Putting both palms in the air facing Tim and Joana, he said “Look… As much as I want to say I over reacted, I didn’t, and I sure as shit ain’t sorry. If you really do have something to do with all this crap, all I can say is…” He pointed a finger at Tim, his voice still calm. “You got what’s coming to you. Trust me.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Tim barked.
“Don’t even push me, punk.” Frank stepped forward. “From what I can tell, you’ve given me good enough reason to kill you right here… right now. You got that?”
His eyes didn’t waver. He just stared Tim down. Tim swallowed hard and nodded, still leaning against the truck.
“I…” Joana started to say.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Frank hissed. “Now, I said… do… you… got… that?”
Tim nodded.
“Good…” Frank leaned over Tim making the Gothic teen shiver with fear. He grabbed the shotgun from the hood off the Jimmy and pointed it at the boy. “You’re probably wondering why I’m even keeping you alive. Hell, I’m asking myself that same damn question.”
Frank shook his head, tossed the shotgun back into the Jimmy and started to climb into the driver’s seat.
“Why?” Tim asked, his voice wavering.
“Because…” Frank said, slamming the driver’s side door shut and rolling down the window. “You know something I don’t. And on our way back into town, you’re going to tell me everything you know. Now get in.”
“But what about the body?” Joana said, looking down at Outlaw’s corpse still leaning against the Jimmy.
“What about it?”
“We can’t just leave it here like this. It just isn’t right.”
“Hey… don’t get me wrong,” Frank said, sticking his head out the window. “The guy was nice and all, but I didn’t know the man. Did you?”
“No, but we can’t just leave him here. Those bears will do things to his remains. What if this was you?”
“Joana…” Frank said, pointing out of the truck at the body. “That isn’t me. And if it were… do you think I would really give a shit? I’d be dead. Now let’s go. Both of you… get in.”
Joana sighed. She wasn’t the only one being hardened by the events of the night. She hadn’t known Frank very well, but she had gotten a sense of who he was. And a heartless killer with no compassion definitely wasn’t something she thought she would have ever seen in him. She just shook her head and rounded the truck with Tim to get in. Funny thing was, she didn’t really care either. She just knew that in the movies they always took the time to bury their dead regardless of the circumstances.
I guess real life just isn’t the movies.
She climbed into the back seat with Tim, afraid of the future.
Frank put the Jimmy in gear and took off down the road, once more headed back toward town. Joana looked back and watched as the truck created distance between them and the tire repairman’s unmoving body. It was sad. What was sad wasn’t that it was happening. No, what was sad was that even in the middle of it all, she wasn’t sad. Just like that woman with the slippers in the cop car; at least it wasn’t her.
“So start talking, Tim,” Frank said from up front, his voice stern.
Tim reached over, taking Joana into his arms and sighed.
That was when he confessed.
He told Frank everything. How he was related to Miss Yortsdayle. And that everyone’s assumptions about her were partially true. She wasn’t a witch, but she did know quite a bit about the dark arts and about spiritual things in general. He told him about the sack of stones that she had given him and how they would open up the portal to another world. He pleaded, swearing up and down that he didn’t mean any harm to anyone and that doing the Geomancy ritual had just been his hope of leaving this world for a better one. Frank wasn’t having any of that, so he went back to the details. The details of how he knew about the possible existence of the Arktos creatures. There were many stories about other worldly creatures. There were worlds beyond worlds out there. Other dimensions. He admitted that although his aunt told him about the Arktos, he didn’t believe that humanoid bears could exist.
“Yeah, just like portals to another realm don’t exist, right?” Frank scoffed, rolling his eyes at the Gothic teen through the rearview mirror.
“Look, man,” Tim cried, holding Joana tight. “You wanted me to tell you about it… I’m telling you about it.”
“That’s all well and good, but can we send them back?” Joana asked.
“I don’t know,” Tim said. “My aunt says they will leave when the portals close.”
“And when is that?” Frank grunted.
“I don’t know that either.”
“Well, what the hell do you know then?” Frank gritted his teeth, keeping his eyes on the winding road.
“I know that we need to go to her house. If anyone can tell us how to stop this thing and give us some answers… it’s my aunt.”
“Fuck that!” Frank chuckled.
The truck fell silent, Frank’s high school tassel swinging from side to side under the rearview mirror.
“Well, you got a better idea?” Joana asked.
“Yes, I do! We’re headed to my work. If Kathie went anywhere, it would be there.”
14
The parking lot of the recreation center bustled with chaotic activity. Things were becoming stranger than they had already been before.
“Hold the line!”
“What the hell’s happening, Captain?”
“Do I look like I know, Officer?” Captain Grimes shouted, squeezing the trigger of his 9mm for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Just keep firing!”
The Rec Center parking lot
was a warzone.
More than twenty cars formed a line on one side of the lot to the other creating a single barricade of both police and civilian vehicles. With their backs to the large recreation center building as a protection from the rear, the firing line did what they could to keep the strange otherworldly attackers at bay.
In the midst of the chaos and panic, Captain Grimes had managed to pull together more than half of the small town’s police force along with a hefty chunk of the armed citizens of Lewisburg. If you asked him how he had managed such a daunting task in the midst of such turmoil, he wouldn’t have been able to tell you. In truth, a lot of it was sheer luck. He had managed to corral what civilians and police that were out in the streets doing the same thing he found himself doing after being abruptly awakened by the bear-like intruders; fighting for survival. None of the radios worked. His cellphone was shot and no one knew exactly what the hell was going on. That was another thing not quite explainable. He wasn’t sure if he would live through the night. If he did make it to see another day, there was no way in hell anyone would believe him. Killer koala bears from another dimension wasn’t an everyday occurrence. While he stood pulling the trigger, reloading, and pulling the trigger again, he had a hard time convincing himself it was true. He was just thankful to know that the right to bear arms was still in effect. Because it was that right to bear that was helping them even fight these… these fucking bears. He chuckled at that and pulled the trigger again.
“I’m out!” The officer beside him shouted, ducking behind a patrol car. His eyes were like Captain Grimes had seen countless times. Fear filled. His lip quivered as he dug through the duffle bag on the ground between them for another clip. “We’re going to die…”
“Don’t say that, officer,” Grimes said, firing a shot and then ducking down behind the same patrol car, but not before seeing one of those bear-things take the bullet in the chest. He smiled. “Here… let me see if I can find what you need.”
He came away with a fresh clip for the young officer beside him, and then snuck a peek at the chaos on the other side of the car. Guns of almost every make and model reverberated around him with an endless cacophony of fire. It had been going on like this for more than an hour now and there was no telling how much longer they would be able to stand. Ammunition would run out sooner or later. By the looks of it, sooner would come quicker than later. He looked up and down both sides of the barricade of cars. Men wearing camouflage wielded long range hunting rifles. Others wore the same thing as the captain—practically nothing but an undershirt and boxer shorts. Among the twenty-car barricade, there had to be at least forty men, all doing their best to keep those beasts at bay.
Killer Koala Bears from Another Dimension Page 11