Past The Patch

by Brian Fatah Steele

  Jeremy and Darrell arrived just in time to see nothing out of the ordinary. The door opened with a loud creak and Rick wandered out with his hair disheveled and a confused look on his face.

  "Guys, what the hell happened?"

  Jeremy and Darrell busted out in laughter.

  "Did you fall in again, Ricky?" Darrell asked.

  Rick's face changed at once and he was laughing along with the other guys. I stood stone-still watching his every move, unable to shake what I had just seen from my memory.

  "Darrell, you asshole, you know I'm too goddamn fat to fall into a toilet.

  I must've hit my head in there though. It hurts real fucking bad."

  "Sure it does man. That's probably the beer talking. What do you say, man? You ready for destination number two?" Darrell asked and dragged on the tiny butt of his cigarette, the same grin from earlier still covering his face.

  "Hell yeah, dude. Let's go."

  The guys started walking back toward the van and I was forced to make a decision right then. Either follow and keep what I saw to myself or say something and deal with the blowback. My analytical side still unable to believe it was real won over, telling me I'd only be the butt of their jokes for the rest of the night. So, I followed them back to the van and we headed out.

  About 45 minutes later, heading south of Cloverdale on US 231, they still hadn't told me where we were going. Not long afterward, we came to the junction for Highway 42. Rick swerved the van to the right, causing the yellow flashers of the traffic light to stream in the corner of my eyes. Just like that, the last signs of town were replaced with wooded, leaf-covered land marked with an occasional house or cornfield.

  No matter how many times I've been down that way--and it's been many--the place never fails to give me the utter willies. Especially in autumn. The tall trees huddle over the land, their branches like bony hands reaching down to pluck the occasional unsuspecting victim from the road.

  The blackness between them hiding endless unimaginable terrors watching and waiting.

  After traversing at least a dozen hills and curves, we arrived at the familiar entrance to the Lieber State Park camping grounds. Unsurprising to me, the gate was closed and the small ranger station stood completely unlit save for the solitary burglar light from above.

  Rick smacked the top of his steering wheel. "Ah, fuck. I should've known they'd be closed for Halloween."

  We sat there in the van staring at the yellow-tinted woods beyond the gate.

  Darrell interrupted the silence, "Well, I guess we could go to my place, instead."

  "No, no, no, wait a minute. I know a way in," Rick said with a sly smile on his lips. Then, he shifted into reverse and peeled out back onto the main road. He hummed something I'd never heard before as he turned into smaller and smaller back roads until we finally ended up on a small dirt road. After a few minutes, the dirt road forked off to the left up a hill with large stones surrounding it. He pulled up onto the hill, the van gunning almost straight upward, throwing Jeremy and I on our backs.

  Then the van fell back to level ground with a loud thud and Rick swerved and stopped, pushing all of us forward with inertia. He put the van in park and said, "Well, here we are. Told you guys I knew a way in."

  Not having any way of knowing whether we were really in the park or not, I held my tongue. We got out of the van, and before us, the small island of a hill was as nice of a camping spot as any you would find in the park either way. The sound of rushing water in the distance kept complete silence at bay.

  Before long, we sat and drank beers around the campfire Rick and Darrell had started. Half a dozen beers apiece later, we popped open the cooler and pulled out the package of hot dogs and started cooking them over the fire.

  In between sloppy bites from his hotdog, Darrell bragged about the different girls he had slept with. I couldn't help wondering what kind of girl would sleep with him as those black teeth ground away at his food. I got up and walked out into the woods to take a piss, Darrell's tall tale fading in the background as I went. I caught myself leaning a little as I stared up at the star-strewn sky while my piss continued to stream aimlessly.

  There was a rustling beyond the trees and I nearly peed all over myself as I hustled to close up my pants. I held my breath as I squinted in the direction of the sound. I could see nothing but the phantom licks of flame the campfire had burned into my vision. Then, as the pale glow of it faded, I could see movement and I became still as an icy sensation crept up my back.

  The movement stopped suddenly and I felt the air thicken around me.

  Then, a small white rabbit hopped away from the spot and I exhaled the breath I'd been holding. Goddamn you, Peter Cottontail, I thought. I turned and went back toward the campfire. When I got back, the guys were passing around a joint and I sat next to Jeremy with unease.

  Darrell stood up and reached over the fire to hand me the joint and before I could make my usual gesture, Jeremy took hold of it.

  "Bob's more of a drinker, man."

  Darrell looked at me suspiciously.

  "It's cool, man. He's not gonna call the police or anything."

  Darrell nodded and smiled with that impish grin again.

  "Damn right, he won't. I'd kill him if he did," he said and laughed. The other two joined him and I did my best to smile. If Jeremy wasn't concerned, I would try my best to shake it off.

  When the joint was finished. Jeremy climbed into the back of the van and lay down, leaving me in what, I felt, might at any moment turn into a scene from Deliverance. I calmed my nerves with another beer and Darrell and Rick lit up another toke. After a few rounds, the joint came back to Rick and he stood with it in his teeth and started dancing around the fire. The light of the fire and the look in his eyes as he stomped around saying, "Master, oh Master, oh Master of Power," made him look even more like a crazed Chris Farley. His conjuring dance increased in its excitement to the point that Darrell was getting annoyed.

  "All right, Rick. It's time to settle it down, man. Jeremy's over there trying to get some sleep and I'm about to do the same."

  Rick's chanting only grew louder.

  "Master, oh Master, oh Master of Power, I summon thee!" His voice echoed back from the forest.

  Darrell, still smiling like a gremlin at Christmas, got up and made a calming gesture with his arms. "Now, Rick, don't make me have to bust a bottle over your head," he said and looked at me, laughing. No sooner had he turned to look back at Rick that the deranged Farley look-a-like reached out, grabbed him, and spun him around so he faced back to me. Darrell laughed with a mix of annoyance and drunkenness as Rick embraced him with one arm.

  "Come on, Ricky-boy, I think you've just about had one too many--"

  Rick reached up with a knife in his other hand and slit a deep gash in Darrell's throat. Darrell's voice cut off in a dreadful, gargling sound as his face stuck somewhere between the usual grin and a grimace of terrible realization.

  I staggered back as Rick leaned Darrell's body over the fire, leaking the blood from his throat onto the flame with a loud crisp sizzle. Behind Darrell's twitching body, I could see that familiar glow from the old outhouse coming from Rick's eyes and mouth. A red mist began rising from the fire and then swirled up into a huge, indefinite shape. I jumped up into the back of the van and shook my sleeping buddy and yelled, "Jeremy!

  Jeremy, wake up!" He groaned with annoyance in reply.

  Behind me, I felt an ominous presence growing. I looked back to see the red mist now swirling around Rick's body and connecting with the red light coming from his face. His body rose from the ground looking like the lost footage from some wacked out B-movie starring Chris Farley as a hell-raising demon.

  Jeremy finally opened his eyes. He squinted at the red chaos behind me and then his eyes shot open wide like silver dollars. "Holy shit!"

  We ran toward the front of the van, pulling the doors shut as we went.

  That eerie red glow was coming in through the fo
ggy back windows. Jeremy jumped into the driver seat and looked around for the keys that we both knew were probably still in Rick's pants pocket. Then, the van started to shake. We both grabbed hold of whatever we could to try and hold ourselves still. The shaking only increased until the van was rocking.

  My stomach dropped sideways as the van began to tip just enough to almost fall over. It came back down on all four wheels with a slam and then began to tip the other way. My stomach fell again and before I could focus to try and calm myself, the van fell on its side with a crash of glass and metal hitting solid ground.

  I slammed into the new floor of the van landing on my back as Jeremy came flying down, right shoulder and head first. I barely registered the crack when he landed as reality faded.

  When I came to, the van was shaking again. I pulled myself up and steadied my balance with the now sideways bucket seat and knelt down to take a look at Jeremy. He lay crumpled upside down against the passenger seat and cast in that red glow. He was unconscious, but when I put my hand in front of his mouth I could feel his warm breath contrast with the cool dry autumn air.

  It was only as it started to return that I realized my hearing must have subsided for a short period of time. That was when I heard the wind. It sounded like a hurricane was just outside the van. The shaking came back full force.

  I was afraid to move my friend in his current position but I also knew I couldn't leave him in this situation. I carefully pulled him up, relieved that he was light enough I could do so. Then, I stepped up onto the side of the bucket seat and pushed my way up toward the driver side door. I knew it would be too difficult to open it, so I began turning the crank for the window instead.

  As the window opened, the sheer volume of the wind drowned out what little hearing I still had. I pushed Jeremy up and out the window, careful to set him on the side of the still-shaking van. I saw his body half roll back and forth as I pulled myself up until I was sitting inside the open window.

  A huge red vortex was rising up to the sky from behind the van and Rick was nowhere to be seen. Now I knew where the wind came from.

  I pulled my legs out from inside the van, crossed the window, and sat back down to where my legs hung over the bottom of the van. I then reached over and pulled Jeremy by the arms as I jumped down. Going first and pulling him with me, I aimed so I would break his fall. It hurt like hell, but I knew he would've done the same for me.

  When I got out from under Jeremy and looked up at the sky, my breath stopped in my chest for a moment. The red mist was spreading up the vortex, into the sky, and out toward the horizons like red wine spilling upward into the atmosphere. I caught my breath and leaned down, pulling Jeremy's body over my shoulders. Then, I ran for the edge of the hill, slid down onto the dirt road, and started to run.

  Beyond the dirt road, I came into a thick forest. When I couldn't run any farther, I stopped and set Jeremy down and collapsed onto the ground, breathing rapidly. The red mist was now taking up a large portion of the sky.

  I couldn't help but feel like that might be a bad sign for a lot of people. I had mostly caught my breath by the time I made my decision. I only hoped that Jeremy would be safe.

  I did my best to hide him before I left him there. Then, I made my way back toward the hill. I had gained enough momentum from running that it didn't take much extra effort to get myself up onto it. I watched the swirling cylinder of red from behind the van, that deafening wind blowing everything away from it.

  I had no clue what the hell I could possibly do to stop what was going on, but I knew I had to try something. I pushed against the wind in the direction of the vortex. The closer I came to the back of the van, the harder it was to move. I could see that it seemed to be coming directly from the fire.

  As I came around from the side of the overturned van, I saw the cooler backed against one of the large gray rocks that crown the hill.

  I knew then what I hoped might work. I threw my body against the blasting air coming from the red swirling whirlwind. The air seemed to stiffen as I realized whatever it was knew I was there and what I had planned to do. A red outline of Rick appeared in the base of the vortex and spoke to me.

  "Go away or die," it said in an echoing thunder. I pushed on anyway, trying to ignore the figure as it pulled from the vortex. I was only mere feet from the cooler when it reached out and grabbed my shoulder, its hand burning through my clothes and searing my flesh.

  I screamed and tried to jerk away, but the wind pushed me back. I was near to fainting when the pain simply subsided and my mind went blank for a split second. Then, I saw flashes of... something.

  At first I didn't know what it was, but before long, they became more complete. It was this very spot. But it wasn't at all like now. The gray rocks formed the bottom of a stone cylinder pointing up to the sky. Inside, a light brown-skinned man dressed in strips of leather and feathers clutched a long thick, whittled tree branch and screamed up at the sky as flames engulfed the lower half of his body. Somehow, I knew then he was a powerful medicine man.

  Outside of the stone cylinder, a number of other Native Americans danced around the circular stone building chanting and waving their spears into the air. The medicine man's screaming became a horrible, corroding sound. As if his screams were being melted down by the fire. Then all but that bottom layer of gray rocks remained and Red Rick's hand was burning into my shoulder again. I could feel the flesh beginning to give way. I screamed and jerked myself forward, stumbling to the ground and reaching out for the cooler. Rick screamed, "No!" as my fingers clasped around the edge of the white plastic handle of the cooler.

  Leaves and rocks flung at me from all directions as I pulled the cooler to me with all of my might. Rick reached out and grabbed my ankle with his burning red hand. I felt the thin flesh melt around it and I had to fight with everything I had to stay conscious. I pulled backward then, bringing the cooler with me and thumped it against Rick's head. He fell backwards with that familiar Farley clumsiness and the red vortex began to widen toward me.

  I jumped up with a force I didn't know I had and simultaneously flung open the cooler. The half-melted ice spilled onto the red fire coming out of the ground where our meager campfire had been. A great explosion of red mist scattered dirt, rocks, and steaming embers everywhere. I watched as all of the mist including what had spread into the sky simply dissipated.

  Immediately afterward, Rick crumpled to the ground and lay still, his eyes staring into eternal depths that no living man would ever see.

  Some time later, after years of digging up old documents, I learned something interesting about that old house out in the woods. The original owner of the land had been Lester Chaldon, a wealthy eccentric businessman.

  It was mostly kept quiet, but I found out by reading old letters between his brother and sister that he had a thing for collecting the old bones of Indian medicine men. It was also said that he tended to bury them throughout the yard. He believed he was using them to put a curse on anyone who would trespass into his land.

  I can't help but wonder where he got the idea.

  MOON DANCE

  Matthew J. Leverton

  Matthew J. Leverton is the author of Bending the Darkness, and a forthcoming novel, The Veins. He resides in upstate New York with his wife and daughter.

  ***

  Jimmy lay on the ground, staring at the flickering stars in the infinite distance. He grasped in his right hand a small folded paper. He sighed into the night and said, “Are you going?”

  Felicia lay just a few feet away, her long red hair splayed out behind her like a copper blood stain. “I’m thinking about it. Stacey Kell’s parties are always wild. You never know, it may be an all out orgy this year.” Felicia giggled.

  “Really?” Jimmy said, perking up.

  “No, you pervert! It’s normally a costume ball. I went a few years ago, and they had about a hundred people all dressed in cloaks and masks. It was kind of creepy and really fun.” Felicia smiled. She r
an her hands over her hair and the grass.

  “I’m thinking about going…” Jimmy said, waiting for the moment Felicia would make fun of him.

  “I think that’d be awesome. I mean, you were invited, so I guess she may want you there. She doesn’t invite everyone.”

  Jimmy smiled. His gaze never left the sky that night, a rather large, lovesick smile took shape where his mouth was. Felicia didn’t look over to him, she knew he was happy, and she’d keep him that way.

  The moon illuminated the sky in a sickly white glow. The sloping field beneath alight with three bonfires amongst an overcrowded forest of green trees. In the distance, figures danced, their cloaks flapping in the breeze and Jimmy could hear the giggles and cries of the party. Jimmy stood on the balcony of the Kell Estate, watching the party below.

  Several people surrounded him, dressed not unlike the party-goers below; black cloaks and golden masks with rather phallic noses and slit eyes.

  Jimmy rubbed his arms as a breeze blew through his cloak. Felicia was somewhere, to that he was certain. He could not see her amongst the crowd in her garish green cloak and silver mask, but he could be sure she was around.

  “Having fun,” a pleasant voice said from behind him. Jimmy turned around and was greeted with astounding blue eyes behind a simple white face mask. Her face looked frozen in time; emotionless. Long, curly blonde hair flowed out behind the mask.

  “Uh-yeah, I guess,” he spoke softly.

  “You guess? You’re at one of the biggest parties of the year, and you guess you’re having fun?” She smiled; Jimmy couldn’t see her mouth but the way her eyes thinned into slits he could tell she was.

  “Well, maybe someone should show me what fun is, at these parties.” He had no control over what left his mouth, just felt the immediate regret that he had said such a forward thing to a probable complete stranger.