Ghost Town: A Novella

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Ghost Town: A Novella Page 8

by Mark Lukens

“Hurry! They … they’re on me! All over me!! THEY’RE BITING ME!!” Eugene’s words melted into screams.

  Beth could hear Eugene thrashing around deep down inside the hole. She could also hear what sounded like thousands of clicking nails and gnashing teeth and high-pitched squeals.

  “I couldn’t find anything to use as a rope,” Tony said.

  Carla fled out of the room.

  Beth looked at Tony, and then she looked down at her clothes. “What about our clothes? We could tie them together. Tear them into strips. Make our own rope.”

  Tony moved closer to the hole, but not too close.

  Eugene was only screaming and thrashing now; his screams no longer forming into words or cries for help.

  “It’s too late now,” Tony said. “Even if we did that, we would never get to him in time.”

  Beth heard a noise from the doorway to the room. She and Tony turned and saw Carla in the doorway with a long coil of thick rope in her arms.

  Tony stared in shock. “Where did you find that?”

  “Right on the floor in the next room,” Carla said and rushed over to the hole in the floor.

  “That wasn’t there before. I was just in that room a few minutes ago. I would’ve seen it.”

  Carla ignored Tony as she dropped the rope down into the hole, holding onto the end of it. She wrapped the end of the rope around her waist, holding it tight, bracing herself with her legs.

  “Eugene!” Carla yelled. “I dropped a rope down to you!”

  Eugene’s screams were dying down.

  “Eugene! Grab the rope!”

  No answer from Eugene. His screams had stopped. But the sound of the clicking and squealing of the rats was even louder now. And there were wet chewing sounds, the sound of teeth and nails tearing away at flesh.

  Carla cried as she held the rope in her hands. “Eugene …”

  Tony walked over to Carla and stood right behind her. He spoke to her in a soft voice. “It’s over. He’s gone now.”

  Beth tensed up, suddenly certain that Tony was going to push Carla down into the hole.

  Carla didn’t turn to look at Tony behind her. She held onto the rope, her legs bent like she was ready to feel the weight of Eugene grabbing onto the rope any second.

  Tony walked away, shaking his head.

  Beth moved closer to Carla and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Tony’s right. It’s too late. We need to pull the rope back up or the rats will start climbing it.”

  For a moment it didn’t seem like Carla was going to move; it didn’t seem like she’d even heard Beth. Finally she nodded and began to pull the rope back up.

  Now that Eugene was dead, Beth suddenly realized what the objects they’d found in their pockets were supposed to mean.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Twenty minutes later Beth, Tony, and Carla sat at the table in the hotel lobby. The length of rope was coiled up on the floor near Carla’s chair. Carla had stopped crying and she just sat in the chair with a blank look on her face.

  Tony stared at Carla from across the table. “There was nothing we could do for Eugene. Even if we would’ve found the rope sooner, how would we have pulled him up out of there?”

  Carla didn’t answer.

  “Come on, Carla,” Tony continued, and that slight tinge of anger was back in his voice. “You heard him down there. His back was broken. He couldn’t even move without screaming in pain. You think he could’ve tied that rope around his waist and we could’ve pulled him up two or three stories from that hole?”

  Carla finally looked at Tony. “We could’ve tried.”

  Tony slammed his fist on the table. “I didn’t see the rope! Why don’t you believe me? It’s just like that shit in the closet. It was there, and then it wasn’t. That rope was planted by these people. They are in and out of here all the time. Playing fucking games with us.”

  Tony got up and paced away from the table. He ran his hand through his hair a few times and half-snorted and half-sniffed.

  He looked back at Carla. “I know you’re upset. But arguing about this isn’t going to help. If we’re going to survive this, then we need to stick together and work as a team.”

  “Oh yeah?” Carla said. “You’re such a team player. You didn’t even say anything about the car you saw in that barn.”

  Tony seemed like he was going to respond, but then he didn’t. He sighed like he was giving up. He walked away from the table and over to the bar with the useless telephone on top of it.

  Beth cleared her throat and then spoke. “I think I know what these objects are that we found in our pockets.”

  Tony stopped walking and turned around. He and Carla focused on Beth.

  “I think I know what they’re supposed to mean,” Beth said as she reached across the table and picked up the toy rat eating a piece of cheese. “This was Eugene’s object, a rat eating a piece of cheese. And that’s how he died, eaten by rats. Like he was a piece of cheese.”

  Tony and Carla stared at Beth as she set the toy rat back down on the table. The rat was cartoonish with a big smile, and it was certainly meant as a toy for kids. But now the friendly rat looked evil to Beth, its smile menacing, like there were terrible teeth behind that smile, dull teeth that took their time at ripping away flesh from bones.

  Beth picked up the Fireball candy that Ray found in his pocket. “And the Fireball candy in Ray’s pocket. That’s how he died. By fire.”

  Tony walked back to the table and picked up his own object—the toy horse. “What are you saying?” he asked Beth. “These are clues to how we’re going to die?”

  Beth nodded. “It seems that way to me.”

  “So I just need to watch out for horses?” Tony asked with a sarcastic grin and malevolence in his eyes.

  “No, she’s right,” Carla said. “But it’s more subtle than watching out for a horse. Ray wasn’t killed by a piece of candy. He was killed by fire.”

  Tony tossed his toy horse back down on the table; it skittered across to the edge and almost fell off the edge. “No! He was killed by them out there!”

  “Yeah, but they’ve given us clues. And we need to use them.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Tony said. He looked at Beth. “What about you? You have a toy car. A car. The same thing that’s in the barn at the end of town. The prize.” He looked at Carla. “That’s quite a coincidence.”

  “Maybe it means she’s already the winner,” Carla said.

  Tony shook his head no. “I don’t believe that. Maybe there can be more than one winner.”

  Beth stared down at the tiny yellow Camaro in front of her on the table. It was time to tell them what she knew. Tony had told them about the car he’d seen inside the barn. It was time for her to come clean, too.

  “I know this car,” she told them in a low voice without meeting their eyes. “I’ve seen this car before.”

  Shocked silence for a moment from both of them.

  Beth looked from Carla to Tony and then back to Carla again. “My husband Trace, he has a yellow Camaro exactly like this.”

  “What do you mean?” Tony asked. “Are you saying your husband might have something to do with all of this?”

  “No,” Beth answered quickly and she looked to Carla for help. “We’re poor. We live in a doublewide trailer in the middle of nowhere. Trace drinks all day. He could never be behind something like this.”

  Tony stared at her like he didn’t believe her. “Why didn’t you say something about this earlier?”

  “I didn’t want you to be suspicious of me,” Beth answered as she looked at Tony. “Like how you’re staring at me right now.”

  “How am I not supposed to be suspicious? None of these objects we found in our pockets mean anything to the rest of us, but you have your husband’s car in your pocket.”

  “Leave her alone, Tony,” Carla said, and then she looked at Beth. “But having your husband’s car must mean something,” Carla said. “We need to figure out what it means.”
r />   “Maybe it means—”

  Beth’s words were cut off by a slamming noise that came from the double doors of the hotel that led outside.

  They all whirled around and stared at the front doors of the lobby. The stick that was threaded through the door handles wasn’t there anymore and the chair that had been propped up underneath the handles was gone.

  “Where’s the stick?” Tony whispered. “And the chair.”

  Something brushed up against the doors outside. And then they heard a low growling from right on the other side. The door bumped open slightly, like it was being nudged and tested by the dogs.

  “The dogs,” Beth whispered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Beth heard the low growling coming from the two Rottweilers just beyond the double doors.

  Carla got up slowly, her eyes never leaving the double doors. “We need to get upstairs,” she whispered and her dark eyes flicked to the stairway.

  Tony crept around the table towards Carla and Beth who were already on their feet.

  Every sound seemed hyper-elevated to Beth. She could hear the squeak of one of Tony’s sneakers as he moved closer to them. She could hear the creak of a floorboard. She could hear the rustle of clothing as Carla bent down to pick up the coil of rope, and the creaking sound as Carla wound the rope up tighter so she could carry it when she ran. She could hear the low, throaty growling of the dogs from outside. She could hear the moaning desert wind as it flowed through the one-street ghost town on its way towards the white church. And she could hear her own heartbeat thudding in her ears.

  The double doors burst open and the dogs charged in, both of them barking, saliva dripping, teeth gnashing.

  Beth followed Tony and Carla as they bolted up the stairs. She heard the dogs behind her, closing in amazingly fast; she heard the clicking of their claws on the wood floorboards as they ran (and it reminded her for a split second of the clicking sound of the rats as they crawled out of whatever dark place they had been hiding in to devour Eugene).

  They made it to the top of the stairs and they ran down the wide hallway to the closest room—the one with the hole in the closet floor.

  The dogs were up the stairs and running down the hall in a flash; Beth swore she could almost feel their breath.

  Tony and Carla got inside the room and held the door open for Beth. She just ducked inside and Tony and Carla worked together as a team to push the door shut on the dogs as they slammed into it. Tony shouldered the door as Carla twisted a lock on the door handle.

  On the other side of the door the dogs barked and growled. One of them slammed against the door and the other one pawed at the door, its claws scratching at the wood. Both of them barked furiously the whole time.

  Tony and Carla backed away from the door, watching it like it was a dam that could burst at any second.

  “I don’t know how long that door’s going to hold,” Tony said.

  “They’re still herding us,” Carla said. “They’re using the dogs now, but they’re still herding us somewhere.”

  Tony and Beth looked at her, but her eyes were still on the door like she was deep in thought. “It’s like they’re pushing us towards something. If we take too long to make a decision, then they do something to force us into action. It’s all part of their game.”

  Tony didn’t say anything. He marched over to the only window in the room.

  Beth watched him. It was the same window she and Ray had looked out of yesterday evening. The flat roof of the next building could be seen below the window, and there was another taller building beyond the flat roof in this line of buildings. The top of the church’s steeple poked up over the next tall building, reaching up into the endless blue sky of the desert.

  Tony stood next to the window for a moment as the dogs rammed their bodies against the door, shaking it in its frame.

  “Hey, come here,” Tony finally said.

  Beth and Carla hurried over to him.

  “We need to go out this window. It’s the only way. We go across that roof to the next building.”

  “It’s like they’re herding us towards something,” Carla said again, almost to herself.

  “What about the shooters?” Beth asked Tony.

  “If they were shooting from the church, then they can’t hit us from here.” He thought for a moment. “Of course they could be in any of those other buildings now.”

  Beth and Carla glanced at each other—this was their only option. What else could they do?

  Tony pulled up on the window, grunting as he tried to open it. Beth and Carla squeezed in beside him and helped. After one more try, the window broke free and slid up with a squeal.

  “Okay,” Tony said, breathing a little heavy. “I’ll stick my head out and take a look around.”

  He stuck his head out and glanced around quickly, and then he stood back up and looked at Beth and Carla. “I don’t see anything out there. No movement in any of the other windows. I’ll go first, then I’ll help you two down.”

  Carla smiled. “I think we can manage on our own. It’s only three feet down.”

  “What?” Tony asked. “You think I’m trying to feel you up? Believe me, that’s the last thing on my mind right now.”

  It didn’t look like Carla believed that.

  The dogs launched themselves at the door again, and this time they heard a loud crack from somewhere in the doorframe.

  “We need to hurry,” Beth said. “I know they can get through that door eventually.”

  “Yeah, right,” Tony said. “Our own Rottweiler expert.”

  But Tony didn’t push it any further. He crawled out through the window and dropped down to the roof below.

  “After you,” Carla said to Beth.

  Beth climbed out through the window, sat on the ledge for a moment, then dropped down to the roof. She landed on her feet, but she fell over and rolled over. She got to her feet quickly and crouched down a little, expecting gunshots to sound at any second. She looked back and watched Carla drop down out of the window with the coil of rope in one arm—she landed with much more grace than Beth had.

  In that moment Beth realized that she wished she could be like Carla; she wished that she was unafraid of anyone or anything like Carla was. Strong. Heroic. She felt that her time around Carla had changed her a little, and this whole situation had changed her in some deep way, like her brain had been rewired, making her a little stronger.

  Tony crouched down a little like someone walking underneath spinning helicopter blades and he gestured at Beth and Carla to follow him across the rooftop. All three of them raced across the flat roof to the wall of the next building which looked even taller than three stories. It was a solid wood planked wall with one small window high up near the eaves.

  They stood by the wall, waiting for a moment. Tony’s eyes scanned their surroundings, but everything seemed to be okay. “There’s no kind of access door up here on the roof,” he said.

  Carla gave him a look like she’d already figured that out. They were being led, her eyes told him. And there was only one choice now, only one place for them to go—the window high up in this wall.

  Beth looked up at the window above them. “It looks open.”

  “Of course,” Carla said. She looked back across the roof at the window they had just come out of. “If those dogs get through that door, will they follow us out here? Will they jump out of that window?”

  Beth shrugged. “Maybe. I guess they could.”

  “Here’s what we’ll do,” Tony said, looking up at the window. “Me and Beth will each grab one of your legs and help you up to the window. You stand on our shoulders and pull yourself up over the edge of the window. I’ll throw the rope up to you and then you can drop it back down to us.”

  “Done this kind of thing before?” Carla asked with a smirk.

  “Maybe,” Tony answered.

  “Alright,” Carla said and she dropped the coil of rope down onto the floorboards of the roof.r />
  Tony and Beth wrapped their arms around each of Carla’s calves and they hoisted her up onto their shoulders. It took a minute for Carla to catch her balance, and she leaned against the wall for support.

  Tony glanced at Beth. “You okay?”

  Beth nodded, but her arms were shaking a little as she held onto Carla’s leg.

  Carla reached her arms up and grabbed the ledge of the window. She took a deep breath and pulled herself up and over the window sill. She kicked her legs wildly as she disappeared over the edge and inside the window.

  Beth and Tony stared up at the window above them. Beth hadn’t heard any kind of crash from inside the window like Carla had landed badly and she hadn’t heard any cries or screams from Carla. She held her breath for a moment as she waited for Carla to let them know she was okay.

  Carla finally poked her head out of the window.

  “It’s some kind of attic up here,” she told them.

  Tony grabbed the coil of rope by his feet and tossed it up to Carla. It took two throws for Carla to catch the rope. She dragged part of the rope inside the window and let the rest of it dangle down the wall.

  “Find something to tie it to up there,” Tony said and his voice sounded so loud in the silence of the desert.

  “I know what to do,” Carla hissed and she ducked back inside with the rope.

  Tony looked at Beth. “You think you can climb up that rope?”

  Beth shook her head no. She wasn’t really sure.

  “I’ll lift you up onto my shoulders. You lean against the wall and reach up for the window. Carla will help pull you up.”

  Beth nodded quickly and took a deep breath. Tony hoisted her up easily onto his shoulders and she stood up on shaky legs. She reached up and Carla was waiting for her. Beth grabbed the window sill and pulled herself up and over quickly, surprising herself with her own strength even though Carla had helped her a little.

  After Beth was inside the attic, she looked back out the window and watched as Tony scaled up the side of the wall, grabbing the rope hand-over-hand and walking up the side of the wall with his feet. Once he made it to the window, he pulled himself inside over the ledge.

 

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