Life at the End of the Road

by Rey S Morfin

  ‘To him!’ I shouted at her, releasing my hands from my face to point at Robert - or rather, at the empty seat where I thought he’d been.

  ‘There’s nobody there, Rey…’ Sarah insisted.

  I turned to look at Sarah in the driver’s seat.

  ‘There was, Sarah. There was. I don’t understand…’

  When I turned back to the seat beside me, Laura’s corpse was buckled in, taunting me.

  I screamed again.

  ‘What is it Rey? Can I pull over?’

  ‘No!’ I shouted at her. ‘Look! Look at her!’

  When Sarah looked, Laura was gone once again, but blood stained the seats.

  ‘Are you bleeding back there? What’s happened? Are you injured?’

  ‘No! It was her blood! Not mine! Her’s!’

  ‘Whose?! There’s nobody there, Rey, I promise.’

  Robert clutched my shirt again, shouting in my face once more.

  ‘Why did you do it, Rey? Why did you kill me? I don’t understand.’

  I screamed back at him through confused tears, ‘I don’t know, Robert, I don’t know! I’m so lost! I don’t know what’s going on! Nobody tells the truth about anything, nobody acknowledges everything that goes on. How am I supposed to see clearly? How am I supposed to know the truth?’

  Robert screamed in my face, then released my shirt and disappeared once again. I looked around, knowing that it was inevitable that the next threat would appear soon.

  Out of the back window, the Shadow approached. It was now hunched over, bounding on all fours at an incredible pace, and with every second gained on the car.

  ‘Sarah, faster!’ I shouted.

  ‘What? Why? I don’t think I can go any faster.’

  ‘Look! Look behind you!’

  Sarah glanced in her rear-view mirror. ‘I can’t see anything, Rey. What are you looking at?’

  The Shadow bounded closer and closer, until it was mere metres away.

  ‘You can’t see that?!’ I shouted at Sarah.

  ‘No!’ she replied, matching my tone. ‘I can’t see anything, Rey.’

  Maybe that was it. Maybe I’d completely snapped, all of this was in my head, I was hallucinating. Maybe Stephen wasn’t after me. Maybe he hadn’t killed Laura. Maybe Laura wasn’t even dead. Suddenly anything was possible. My understanding of reality wasn’t broken, it was just muddled. I just needed to get these drugs out of my system and-

  The Shadow swiped at the car with a powerful limb, sending the car spinning off the edge of the road, coming to a stop only when it crashed into a sign which read “Welcome to HIGHFORD - The birthplace of custard”.

  Now, Sarah was rattled.

  ‘What was that?!’ she screamed. ‘What hit us?’

  No. Sarah felt it. She hadn’t seen it, but she’d felt it. Reality was broken, not me. Everything I’d experienced was true. Laura was dead. Stephen had killed her. Stephen was about to do the same to me - and perhaps Sarah too.

  I spun around, ready to defend Sarah against the beings that chased us - but there was nothing. Only an empty, quiet country road laid in front of us, illuminated sporadically by the flashing lights of the car.

  ‘What was that? What happened?’ Sarah repeated.

  ‘Stephen. Or something he sent after me, at least,’

  ‘Stephen? What? …Are we safe?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t see anything,’ I replied. ‘Stay low in the car, stay quiet. See if anything moves.’

  We waited, still, seeing nothing but the empty street, hearing nothing but the bushes blow in the wind. No further threats presented themselves.

  ‘Ok,’ I told Sarah, ‘I think, somehow, we’re in the clear. Is the car still ok to drive?’

  ‘I think so, but I’m not a mechanic, am I? I’m thirteen.’

  I ignored the comment. ‘Ok. Let’s continue into town, find somewhere to park.’

  As we wound through the quiet streets of Highford, we drove slowly past a familiar face. I hopped out the moving car, crashing to the ground and attracting the man’s attention. I scrambled to my feet.

  ‘John! John!’ I called at the Black Horse’s owner.

  He turned around to face me, not immediately recognising me despite having served me only last night.

  ‘…Rey? Are you ok?’

  ‘Can we stay with you, tonight? Here? Please? We need somewhere to stay.’

  Sarah jumped out of the car behind me and rushed to my side, holding me on my feet.

  ‘He’s had a bad reaction to something,’ Sarah interrupted, ‘We just need somewhere for him to lay down for a while. We’ll be out of your hair before long, I promise.’

  John thought about this for a moment, and then nodded. ‘Ok. I’m just headed to my sister’s… she’s just around the corner. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you resting on her settee for a moment.’

  John led us to his sister’s house, all the while looking suspiciously at us from out of the corner of his eye. I could feel his gaze whenever he stared at me. Was I turning? Was I becoming the monster again? I checked my hands and arms. Normal. For now. Slowly I was getting control of these “powers” - as Stephen had described them.

  When we arrived, John’s sister looked us over suspiciously. In hindsight, who could blame them? A strange man claiming to be ill, accompanied by a thirteen year old girl - not exactly the more sought-after dinner guests. John, paying no heed to his sister, waved us into the living room, and pointed me to a settee.

  ‘Here you are, Rey,’ John told me, ‘Have a rest here. We’ll just be in the other room.’

  John, happy that I was laying down comfortably - and that I was not going to put my feet on the settee while I still had my shoes on - beckoned Sarah into the kitchen with him.

  At first, I heard only muffled conversation between John, his sister, and Sarah, but soon their voices became raised. I could make out some of the words through the pain of the searing headache that was starting to grip me.

  ‘…strange man…,’ John’s sister said.

  ‘…just needs some help… gone… not long…,’ John replied.

  My phone buzzed as a text came in from an unknown number, simply reading, ‘Where are you?’

  I checked the timestamp. It was sent a while ago. That’s what you get out here - terrible phone service.

  ‘Anna?’ I replied.

  ‘…with… him?’ the sister asked.

  The pain grew as my second consumption of the Root began to take a hold of me. I could feel it running through my veins, and most of my energy had to be put into keeping its effects - namely the smoke and the glowing eyes - suppressed.

  ‘…cousin’s… town for… and then…,’ Sarah responded.

  ‘…unwell? … time for… if he can’t…,’ John’s sister replied in a more panicked voice.

  My migraine grew worse, and whilst trying to expend all available energy on keeping the powers under wraps, I passed out. Part of me had known this was coming; when I’d first taken the Root my mind had been absent, and it appeared to be a trend. This time, I focussed on staying present in the moment, on staying where I was, at this stranger’s house in Highford. I couldn’t bear to again see things that I wasn’t present for, to see things that had happened over which I could have no control. My mind was full, feeling as though it was going to tear at the seams - which might have explained the searing pain.

  So, this time, when the visions started, I didn’t travel far. Through Sarah’s eyes I watched the conversation continue. John and his sister stood around the kitchen table, voices raised.

  ‘You don’t understand, John, we can’t have him here!’ the woman offered.

  ‘Why not? He’s obviously having a tough day, he’s not doing any harm,’ John retorted.

  ‘No, John! You haven’t been around here long, you don’t know the area.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean? I’m trying, I’m trying to fit in around here, make a life here. I’m making inroads w
ith the people over there, I’m trying to be part of the community.’

  ‘I don’t mean that. You know I don’t mean that. You’re fitting in fine. You’re doing well, even. But there things that go on, around here, especially in Redbury, that you can’t know yet.’

  ‘I work in a pub… people are pretty open in there-’

  ‘No, I don’t mean those kinds of things. I’m not talking about stupid gossip like who did what to their house, who fucked who…’

  The woman shot a quick look to me - to Sarah - in apology.

  ‘…I’m talking about the other stuff. The darker stuff.’

  ‘What darker stuff?’

  ‘I don’t think that she…’ the woman nodded in my direction, ‘…needs to hear this. Let’s just say: I’ve seen this before. Having him here, it’s not good news. He needs to leave - soon.’

  I awoke to Sarah shaking me. We were alone in the room, and I could hear voices still raised in the other room.

  ‘I don’t think they want us here, Rey,’ Sarah told me. ‘What’s going on? Can’t you just tell me the truth?’

  ‘I did tell you the truth, Sarah.’

  ‘What? Monsters are after you? You’re going to have to do better than that…’

  ‘You saw what happened back there-’

  ‘No I didn’t! I didn’t see anything!’

  ‘Ok, well you felt it, at least, right? Something hit the car? Unless you’re just a terrible driver.’

  ‘I’m thirteen, Rey, of course I’m a terrible driver,’ Sarah snapped back at me, and then stopped to think for a moment. ‘Ok. Maybe there was something out there. I’m not saying monsters, but… something… yeah, something.’

  I felt my phone buzz again.

  ‘Sorry, I answered it for you. It was Anna. I told her where we are,’ Sarah said, a look of worry on her face. ‘Sorry if I wasn’t supposed to.’

  ‘No, Sarah, no, it’s ok. I need her here. I don’t know what to do,’ I replied.

  Sarah shot me a sad look. ‘It’ll all be ok, Rey,’ she responded, with all the confidence of a thirteen year old girl who had just been forced to drive out of town in a stolen car before being stopped by an invisible force.

  It wasn’t long before there was an aggressive knock on the door.

  ‘Rey?’ Anna’s voice called out. ‘Are you in there? Rey?’

  John’s sister left the kitchen and entered the hall with an exasperated sigh. ‘There’s more of you? Look, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to leave now. I can’t-’

  ‘It’s ok,’ I interrupted her, ‘We’ll leave.’

  This seemed to throw our host from her train of thought. ‘…Oh. Ok.’

  I headed for the door, Sarah following close behind me. ‘Thanks for the hospitality. I’m sorry for the… inconvenience.’

  The woman looked puzzled. ‘That’s… ok.’ She turned to John, who raised his arms and shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘I have no fucking idea what the hell is going on.’

  We opened the door.

  ‘Sarah?’ Anna asked.

  18

  In Defence of Drug Use

  ‘Go on then, run. We all know that’s where this is headed,’ Stephen told us.

  And, with that, we were off, sprinting away from the mansion towards the main road. I moved as quickly as my legs would take me, not intending to find out exactly what these creatures could do to me. Rey was hot on my heels.

  We reached the end of the gravel, and we had to quickly decide in which direction to flee. Instinctively, I took a moment to look back, and was not surprised to see that the creature, Stephen’s Shadow, was gaining on us. He (or ‘it’, perhaps) was not ten metres away, and we needed to continue running immediately.

  I turned and shouted at Rey. ‘Don’t stop, it’s right there!’ I was still torn between calling the Shadow ‘he’ or ‘it’, but this wasn’t the right time to stop and think about it. I pushed Rey onwards, and he made the decision to head north, up towards the Church and Joyce’s home. I followed Rey as best I could, but the additional height that he had on me meant that I had trouble keeping up. For fear that the Shadow would catch me, I swung right as we passed the church road, halving the chance that Stephen would continue to follow me.

  I didn’t, this time, stop to check if I was still being pursued, and mustered up my energy to carry on sprinting up the road to the churchyard. At the gate, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a grey blur. Stephen was still after me, then.

  I charged for the Church door. If I was going to hide from some demonic hellbeast, I felt there was no better place to do so. I ran into the door, clumsily shoving it open, and tumbled through. Behind me, Art immediately barricaded the door with an old wooden bar that slotted into place.

  ‘My Lord,’ Art announced, ‘I knew it!’

  Before I had a chance to reply, there was a bang at the entrance, causing the door to rattle.

  Art looked around, wide-eyed. I ran to the door, pressing my weight against it, to hold it.

  The door was rammed again by the creature on the other side. My body put up little resistance. I was flung away from the door as it shook, but it did, at least continue to hold.

  I rushed back to the entry again and Art realised he was also needed. He came to hold the door by my side, and, when the door was rammed again, it didn’t give way quite as much.

  ‘What do you know, Art?’ I asked with a strained voice as I put all my energy into bracing for the next blow.

  ‘Maybe-’ Art was cut off by the next ram of the door. ‘Maybe we should wait until this is resolved before we discuss this.’

  I, a small young woman, and Art, a frail old man (or, not quite old, but definitely getting that way), continued to hold the door as the creature charged it again and again, until, somehow, we won. The ramming became less and less regular, before it seemed to stop altogether. We continued to brace the door a few minutes longer, unwilling to immediately risk that the Shadow was still there, toying with us.

  ‘I think it’s gone, Anna,’ Art eventually declared.

  I nodded in agreement before sighing and shaking my limbs to get the blood moving once again.

  ‘What did you mean, Art? You “knew it”? Knew what? You know how to stop this?’

  The Vicar shook his head. ‘No, nothing like that, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Then what? I need something helpful, here, clearly,’ I told him, immediately regretting my tone. Art, fortunately, had the sense to ignore it in these circumstances.

  ‘I knew I wasn’t imagining these… things. Demons, really, in a word, aren’t they? I was starting to think: Old man, tucked away alone in a Church, with an ever-decreasing congregation, maybe I’m simply imagining these demons out of boredom. Not that my work is boring, of course.’

  ‘Oh, trust me, you’re not making them up,’ I replied. I took a seat on a nearby pew, breathing heavily as I recovered.

  ‘Thank God.’ Art announced. He mouthed a silent apology to the heavens. ‘The residents, do they know? I have always felt as though they… some of them, at least… are keeping things from me. I always put that down to paranoia, but…’

  ‘To be honest, I have no fucking idea. It’s starting to seem that way. Maybe.’

  Art shook his head in both shock and wonder. ‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I think this calls for a cup of tea.’ The Vicar began towards the door.

  ‘Art, no. No tea, for fuck’s sake. This isn’t the time.’

  He looked appalled, but didn’t comment on my language or attitude.

  ‘I see,’ Art responded, ‘We’re getting straight to the action, are we?’

  I nodded. Between Rey’s investigation and my own, we had spent enough time faffing about the root cause. The fire, the dead foxes, Max, Laura… everything came back to Stephen and the plant he was farming. Now that we knew the truth, I was done talking, listening, and every bone in my body wanted me to finish this. I could only imagine that Rey felt the same.

  ‘If you
are going to fight this, Anna, I do insist that you end it. It’s our duty, as good people, to vanquish evil wherever we see it - and I do believe that this counts. We can’t stand idly by and-’

  ‘Yes, I get the idea. Don’t worry, I intend to sort it. There’s a woman we owe it to.’

  I was very conscious, though, what “sorting it” really meant in this case. It meant neutralising Stephen’s power, and there was only one way I could think to do that. It was maybe what he deserved. Part of me wished I had had the courage to do it to my own assailant… before Rey had done it for me.

  Obviously, that would have been wrong. I could, maybe, have gone through the proper legal channels, but the idea of this had always filled me with dread. I would have had to stand, testify against him, have all my pain pulled out in front of others. In many ways, burying it deep and pretending that it had happened to someone else (or to nobody at all) was easier.

  In Stephen’s case, I didn’t know that there was an alternative. If I went through the correct channels, nobody would believe me. I couldn’t blame them for this, even if it was the truth. For this one, particular, scenario, there really was maybe only one solution.

  Art raised an eyebrow at my response, puzzled expression on his face.

  ‘Are you referring to Joyce, or perhaps… Rebecca?’

  ‘Both,’ I replied. ‘Rebecca, though, will be a pariah until all of this is exposed. That’s not to say Joyce wouldn’t benefit from it too.’

  I thought again of Laura, before consciously putting her out of my mind. There were other matters to prioritise.

  I gathered myself and stood up; Art correctly inferred that this meant that I was going to be on my way.

  ‘Where are you off to?’ he asked.

  ‘Just like the Bible says, I’m going to fight fire with fire,’ I responded.

  Art raised a finger in protest. ‘That’s actually not…’ He trailed off, shaking his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’ll be praying for you, Anna Tyndall.’

  When I left the church, I heard the wooden barricade slam across the door behind me. Art wasn’t taking any chances.