Ravenous

by West, Terry M.

  Adam dropped to the floor and backtracked, searching frantically for his weapon. He could hear the screams of his friends on the harsh wind. They called for Adam at first and then they called for God. By a miracle, Adam found the rifle. He turned his attention back toward the storm. The fire was marching up the dry barn walls now. Adam pulled his bloodied work shirt over his nose and mouth.

  He saw very little through the thickening smoke. He went back down to his knees, trying to navigate below the smoke. Adam slung the rifle over his shoulder and held it with one hand. He crawled on his free hand and knees like a three legged animal. Adam edged forward and landed right in Ted’s remains, identifiable only because the head was still loosely attached to the torso. The expression on Ted’s face let Adam know that his death had been a terrible one, and there went another little piece of Adam’s soul.

  Adam got back up on his feet. George Berryman flew past him. George’s belly had been torn open and his insides had been crudely scooped out and hungrily devoured. George hit the side of the barn with a bone-shattering thud, opening the wall- half of his body peeking out into the night. His glasses were lost and his dead face looked a little naked and out of place without them. Air spilled in from the gap George’s body had made and it gave the blaze in the barn more power and ferocity.

  Adam found Nathan next. He had been impaled to the center post of the barn with the pitchfork. Nathan was almost as high up as the loft. Half of his face had been bitten off and his legs were gone below the knees. Nathan’s remaining eye, with no interest in it or color or life left to it, stared down toward Adam. Nathan looked like a half-made scarecrow that was wearing a broken mask. The sight of Nathan held Adam there for too long.

  The fire consumed the loft. A new rush of night air fanned the inferno and the top of the barn collapsed. A heavy piece of smoldering wood drove Adam to the barn floor and trapped him there. He could barely breathe. His ribs felt broken and he knew it was worse then that when he tasted his own blood.

  Adam closed his eyes and waited for the creature to taste him. He had failed. He had failed his family. He had failed his friends. Ready to meet the maw of the creature, he figured he deserved no less.

  So he lay there, staring at the night sky now visible through the fractured roof of the barn. Smoke poured out into the dark. He noticed the moon, and he suddenly thought it just a dead thing that glowed sometimes.

  He had searched for redemption under the bright dead moon, and he had come up empty handed. Adam would die a thing that was alone and unloved. Just like that moon. Closing his eyes, he hoped for a happy place somewhere in the beyond. A place that was sunny, breezy and very, very lazy. He wanted a place that the night never touched. Where the moon never rose. He could picture his family at that place. They waited for him with smiles, fishing rods and something freshly baked.

  The creature was still there. That newly energized sense of Adam’s could feel the beast circling him. It bathed in the smoke and fire. But it wouldn’t claim him. Tears of realization and regret came freely now with no one left to judge them.

  Adam had been the rope that tethered the beast to this world. It wouldn’t hurt him. If it did, its visit would be over and it would be called back to the dark dimension that had birthed it. The fire and smoke raged all around Adam, but came no closer to him, and he figured this dark magic he had conjured had something to do with that. It would keep him here and alive for as long as it could. It would let Adam die slowly from the internal injuries that stained his mouth.

  Adam cursed himself even stronger now. If he had followed his suicidal instinct when his family had been taken, a lot of lives would still be living. He apologized to them all over again. He could hear sirens in the distance, and he knew the monster would have more flesh to play with, soon. But Adam couldn’t have that. No, it was time to cut this picnic short. He felt around until his hand touched the hot metal of his rifle. With great and painful difficulty, he managed to navigate the barrel under his chin. The beast growled in the smoke. It sensed betrayal.

  Adam’s shaking hands slid down the barrel of the rifle as he stared at that dead moon again. And he shared in its cold misery.

  “Unto Jesus,” he whispered, closing his eyes and seeing his family in that happy place, waiting for him. God would forgive him this act. He was sure of it.

  Adam’s finger tickled the trigger.

  Car Nex: The Evil One by ER Robin Dover

  Mayor Aldo Capello – the mayor of New York City. He had been New York’s mayor for the past two consecutive terms. He was trusted, vigilant and determined to increase the economic stability of the city. He was a family man married to a fine, intelligent woman. His wife, Megh, had an insatiable thirst for history, was proactive in politics and had a penchant for identifying important geopolitical trends.

  They also had a beautiful daughter of eight years old, Aleesa Anam. Aleesa was an only child and a Straight-A student obsessed with handheld tablets, spending countless hours playing Deer Hunter. Although she frequently asked her father to take over when the wolves appeared, most of the time, he gracefully declined stating she must also learn to deal with the wolves in life. Instead he encouraged her to spend more time with Minion Rush and Sonic Dash. He said these two games were more appropriate and beneficial for a child’s development than placing a crosshair between the eyes or the center of the chest of a beast. He said head shots and heart shots needn’t be equated with winning and success. Aleesa didn’t agree.

  The Mayer hailed from a very wealthy and proud Sardinian/Italian heritage while his wife Megh’s roots were primarily impoverished and from the Bengal delta in Bangladesh. Their home, Gracie Mansion, in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, had been the official mayoral residence for over seventy years. Overlooking Hell Gate channel in the East River, the 215 year old Gracie Mansion was built in the late 1700s and is steeped in legendary history.

  The mayor and his wife enjoyed an unusual blend of contrasting cultures, incorporating the best elements of two religions. They taught their daughter the beauty of acceptance and tolerance which was apparently America’s original intent and embraced the message on New York City’s Statue of Liberty on Liberty Island so proudly proclaims written by Emma Lazarus, “Give me your tired, your poor – your huddled masses yearning to breathe free – the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

  With only one year remaining in the mayor’s seat, Mayor Capello had accumulated significant wealth for New York City as well as for his family. Although taxes had risen in many areas several times over the course of his two terms, Mayor Capello was beloved by the people. They had accepted his assurances that the tax increases were necessary for the time being and that the next mayor would see to it that the taxation would level off and the city would experience a new upsurge in growth and prosperity. Several savvy financial investments involving foreign trade had paid off. Mayor Capello had become a multi-billionaire and ready to hand over the mantle of power to someone else. His wife, Megh was prepared to fill this role. She had recently completed the Bar Exam and was ready to begin her campaign. She was already dreaming of her place – her life in City Hall.

  Megh’s elderly mother, Kanta, lived with them. She suffered from Parkinson’s disease and depression and had recently been moved from a poverty-stricken tenement in the capital of Dhaka in Bangladesh to their lavish home at Gracie Mansion. She was ninety-three and although a devout Muslim, still held a deep reverence and connection to her pre-Muslim Indic heritage. Although she held the deepest gratification for her daughter and husband, the Mayor of New York, for coming to her rescue and providing her with a home surrounded by wealth and glamor, she was firm in her conviction to live a simple life, renouncing worldly pursuits in favor of a relationship with the divine. Kanta was a proclaimed Sufi who had formed her own ideas around the practices of the Persian mystic woman, the ascetic, Sha’wana, who frequently wept in order to symbo
lize her devotion. Kanta was a collector of mystical poetry, esoteric summonses and a researcher of arcane inclusions found within the divine Perspicuous Book.

  It was the Friday two weeks after school began. Filippa, their English Nanny, combed through the clutter covering the floor of Aleesa’s bedroom. Books were scattered from one end to the other. Bags of candy corn, Skittles, Twizzlers and M & M’s decorated her desk and nightstand, clustered around figurines of the Super Readers from the Super Why! animated television show. Filippa shook her head, fanned out the bedspread and Reese’s Pieces flew everywhere. Filippa sighed and stared up at the Godzilla poster on the wall.

  The summer had left Aleesa bored and ready to return to Spence to crack the books. She wasn’t interested in mischief and hadn’t made many friends in schools. Her parents hoped the third grade would be a more sociable time without sacrificing her grades, for they knew the importance of honing the skills of rapport in philanthropy, especially deep in the politics of Spence…

  Mayor Capello and his wife, Megh, sat in the kitchen early in the afternoon silently drinking coffee. The mayor went over bank deposits and investment gains, ignoring several important messages on his laptop. Megh reviewed the speech for her political campaign and was happy with the platform.

  “Darling, would you go over my speech again? I’d like your opinion on the changes I’ve made.”

  The mayor took the paper and scanned the speech, “It’s important to recite your speech. Keep it simple. Don’t try to impress them with flamboyance. Dumb it down a bit. You’ve given speeches before. They’re not readers – they’re listeners. Remember: there’s no second chance to make a first impression.”

  Megh nodded and took the paper, “I’ll keep working, darling.”

  The mayor smiled and returned to his analysis.

  “Darling, please ask Filippa to come into the kitchen. I was hoping she would bake cookies this afternoon before Aleesa returns from Spence,” Megh said.

  “She’s here,” Aldo said and smiled. “You can ask her yourself.”

  Megh’s mother, Kanta, followed Filippa into the kitchen, sat down and quietly sobbed. Kanta began to chatter in Bengali.

  “Just a minute, Mother,” Megh said and gently placed her hand on Kanta’s shoulder.

  “I wish she wouldn’t cry so much,” the mayor said.

  “It’s her way of expressing devotion, darling,” Megh said and turned to Filippa. “Filippa, would you bake some cookies? I’d like them ready before Aleesa returns from school.”

  “Of, course, my lady. Snickerdoodles?”

  Megh nodded, “Yes… her favorite.”

  “If I’m going to fill the home with that fabulous aroma by the time she arrives, I need to start now,” Filippa said.

  Megh smiled, “Isn’t she lovely? Spend the night, darling.”

  Aldo raised his eyebrows, “You know that isn’t possible, sweetheart. Only legal family can stay in Gracie Mansion, even for just one night. It’s not allowed.”

  “But she is family, Aldo. Filippa’s been with us over four years. That must count for something,” Megh said.

  Filippa smiled, “Awwwwww. That is so sweet. I’d love to, darling. But…”

  Aldo sighed.

  “You two must mess around behind my back. I see the way you look at each other. That makes Filippa your concubine, right?”

  Filippa blushed.

  “Megh! Of course, not!” Aldo said.

  “Just marry her! I don’t mind. Then she can move in with us,” Megh said. “You know Aleesa loves her…”

  Silence stole the moment. Eyes darted from one red face to the next.

  “Polygamy is not allowed in this country, Megh. I know it’s acceptable in Bangladesh but in New York City, it is still on the naughty chair. Maybe next year,” Aldo said and shook his head.

  Laughter finally broke across the kitchen.

  “I’ll get the Snickerdoodles baking!” Filippa said.

  “You do that, darling,” Megh said, kissed Filippa on the cheek and winked.

  Kanta began to chatter in Bengali again and wiped away more tears. She appeared pale.

  “What do you mean; you’re feeling strange and seeing halos?” Megh said to her mother and placed her hand across her forehead. “You don’t have fever, but you do feel cold. What’s wrong?”

  Kanta’s head fell forward and she asked to lie down.

  “Filippa, please take Mother to her room. She’s not well. It could be a migraine coming on,” Megh said.

  “Yes, ma’am…” Filippa slowly walked Kanta to her room.

  The telephone rang. Aldo answered, “Mayor Capello. How may I help you?”

  A man with a thick middle-eastern accent spoke with the Mayor. Mayor Capello nodded and quietly placed the phone down.

  His wife looked up, “What’s wrong, darling?”

  “I’m not sure. Give me a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  Mayor Capello retired into the study. He locked the door, dropped the blackout window blinds and switched on the lamp. He picked up the secure landline and made the call…

  “This is the fourth time money has missed target, Mayor Capello. We warned you twice. You have failed us one too many times. We suffer – because of your negligence. We will suffer no more. This is not what you agreed…”

  The mayor attempted to speak.

  “We refuse to warn you again. It’s now your turn…”

  The line went dead.

  Mayor Capello turned white. He dropped the receiver and knocked the lamp from the table. The room flashed into blackness.

  Megh rushed to the study door and tried the knob, “Aldo! Are you all right?”

  The smell of Snickerdoodles crept beneath the gap at the base of the study threshold.

  The Mayor lowered himself to the carpet and followed the telephone cord to the receiver. He replaced it into the cradle on the table. The telephone immediately rang.

  Startled, the Mayor fell flat on his back in the darkness, jerked the telephone onto the floor. The receiver hit him in the head and lay loose beside him.

  “Aldo! What’s going on in there?”

  Everyone, including their daughter, Aleesa, who had just been delivered by limousine from Spence, clambered outside the study door.

  A penetrating voice clawed the darkness of the study breaking open a window to damnation…

  “You think your city has suffered? You think you have suffered loss? Ground Zero is nothing. We will spread like cancer. Meat City… game over.”

  The line went dead again.

  Mayor Capello swallowed and stared into the dark. He felt the base of the lamp digging into his lower back, pulled the lamp loose and switched on the light.

  Megh pounded incessantly at the door, “What is going on in there?”

  “Daddy! Are you okay?” Aleesa began to cry.

  “Mayor Capello – Aldo – please answer us!” Filippa said.

  Kanta shuffled up behind Megh. Sobbing, she placed her shaky hands on Megh’s shoulders, “God is angry. He no longer protects you. Evil is coming… it must.”

  “Mother, please!” Megh said. “Aldo! Answer me now!”

  Mayor Capello sat up and placed the telephone receiver back into the cradle. It immediately rang again.

  He stood and opened the door. The phone continued to ring.

  Everyone rushed into the study, along with the warm, sickly sweet smell of fresh baked cookies.

  “Aren’t you going to answer the phone?” Megh said.

  “I’ve answered it twice. I won’t answer it again.”

  Megh rushed toward the phone. Aldo stopped her, “Leave it. I’ve heard enough.”

  Mayor Capello left the study, sat down at the kitchen table and pulled the plate of cookies to him. Perspiration dripped from his nose and chin into the Snickerdoodles.

  The women quickly followed the mayor into the kitchen. Aleesa wiped tears from her eyes and stared up at her father’s sweaty face, “Daddy. What’s wro
ng? Are you sick?”

  Aldo looked up and nodded, “Yes. I’m not well.”

  Aleesa handed him a cookie, “This will help.”

  Kanta finally made it to the table, “Bad things!” She held up a finger and shook it toward him. She looked back and forth between the mayor and Megh…

  “Both of you. Bad things…

  “Khuba khārāpa – Khuba khārāpa – Atyanta atyanta khārāpa – Īśbarēra rāga – Īśbara āpanākē sāhāyya karabē – Ēṭā śaẏatāna kala karāra samaẏa.

  “Śudhu śaẏatāna ēkhana sāhāyya karatē pārēna ēbaṁēkaṭi mūlya hatē habē.”

  Mayor Capello held up his hands, “What the hell is she saying?”

  Megh averted her eyes, “She says God is angry and will not help us.”

  Building anxiety filled the silence with teeth and a bloodthirsty, hungry black shadow.

  “She says it’s time to bring the Evil One. She says it’s the only thing that can help us now and that there will be a price.”

  “She’s out of her mind. The Evil One? The Parkinson’s is altering any sense of reason,” the mayor said. “I’m a Christian – you’re a Muslim. I’m not going to call up the devil – she has no idea what we’re up against.”

  Kanta shook her finger again, “Very bad. Very very bad. Anēka mr̥tyu habē. An'yān'ya ēka upāẏa, anēka mr̥tyu habē. Mr̥tyu mukta hatē ēkamātra upāẏa.”

  “What is she saying?” the mayor said. “Please! I’m trying to figure out what to do! I don’t have much time!”

  Megh shook her head, “She says one way or the other, there will be much death. Death is the only way to be free.”

  “Āmi ibalisa biṣaẏē kathā balachi nā karachi... Ē'i ibalisa bā śaẏatāna āpanāra cēẏē khārāpa.”

  “Oh, now what?”

  “She isn’t talking about the Islamic Iblis or your Christian Satan. She says the Evil One is worse than all of our devils… much worse.”