by Stephen Laws
He felt the cliff-edge tremble, but he did not stagger back, stricken with vertigo as before. He knew that the Voice was here at last, just below the ragged rim; now flowing up all around the edge, like…like…
“Treacle!” giggled Trevor, and remembered joyfully how he’d poured a tin of the stuff over his two-year-old sister’s head, then blamed his four-year-old brother when his parents had come back from the pub. Sister and brother had been slapped about until they were black and blue. (Black from the treacle and blue with the bruises, laughed Trevor inside.) And he’d just sat watching the television (A black-and-white movie!), smiling while the screams had come from the bedroom.
“They had to shave her head, you know,” said Trevor.
I know, said the Voice. And Trevor could feel it pooling around his feet. It spread thick and fast in the darkness. Trevor could hear cereal packets and tins and loaves of bread falling from shelves as the blackness slithered into the supermarket all around him, surveying the remains of the building and making its plans.
The Door was open in his head now.
For the first time, he could be himself.
“Your face,” croaked Trevor. “Your faces. You said I could see.”
First, said the Voice, know our name.
“Yes…yes…”
I…we…have called ourselves…
“Yes? Oh, please, yes.”
The Vorla, said the Voice. But this time when it spoke, it spoke with a hungry voice. Say it. Say my name.
“Vorla,” said Trevor. “Your name is the Vorla.”
Now see my faces, it said.
And a great ebony tidal wave, darker than the night, suddenly reared up over the cliff-edge in front of Trevor. It glinted black in the darkness, the spreading waves of black which had flowed around his legs and beyond also swirling and rising behind to cocoon Trevor in a rising black funnel, of which he was the centre.
The Door was well and truly open.
The Darkness had found him, had shown him what he really was; the person he’d been fighting to find, ever since he was a kid.
The real Trevor Blake flung wide his arms to embrace the glinting black mass that surrounded him. It shimmered like liquid velvet before his face. But it did not descend, did not roar down upon him like a tidal wave. Trevor trembled, waiting for the moment that would transform him, would make sense of all those dark dreams and hideous deeds.
The Vorla engulfed him.
Chapter Four
Waking Nightmares
The fire was burning low when “day” came; embers glowing orange in the ash-grey remains of wooden beams and the other detritus that had been piled up.
No sun rising above the surreal crags of stone and rock. No creeping, glorious light in a canyon of clouds. Only the blank grey expanse above and on all sides, lightening gradually. But as the outlines of ruined buildings and crooked trees crept back into view, there were only two objects that drew their eyes and remained their sole focus of attention: the two bodies lying on the grass fifty feet away. The woman who had been made to look like Gordon’s aunt, and the man who looked like Stafford. No one had been inclined to approach them again in the darkness.
Jay waited until everyone was awake before he spoke.
“No one’s coming to rescue us,” he said simply. “I think everyone should get their head around that. We’re on our own, and we’re going to have to look out for each other.”
No one replied.
“I think that means we’re going to have to do some pretty unpleasant things if we’re going to survive here.”
“Like what?” asked Wayne contemptuously.
“Been thinking about those bodies,” continued Jay. “Those two lying out there.”
Still no one replied, but they all looked at him, waiting and listening.
“We’ll have to get rid of them. Can’t leave them lying there like that. So the first thing I thought was—we should chuck them over the edge.”
There was still no response from the others. The horror of the previous night continued to lie heavily on everyone. Jay’s words only hinted at more horror, and it seemed that no one was prepared to take any more.
“Over the cliff-edge, I mean,” continued Jay. “Then I got to thinking about what happened last night. The Black Stuff brought those dead people back to life, didn’t it?”
No one spoke.
“Seems to me it can do the same thing again any time it wants to. Throw them down where the Black Stuff comes from, it’ll probably just bring them back up again.”
“Not in the daytime,” said Annie. “It can’t do anything in the daytime.”
“Now how the hell do you know that?” demanded Wayne.
“I don’t know. I just seem to…sense it.”
“Okay,” Jay went on. “It only comes out at night. Just like the best kind of bogey-men. So that gives us a day to do the second thing I thought about.”
“Which is?” asked Alex.
“We go around the rest of this…” Jay indicated the plateau on which they were marooned, unable to think of a description. “…this place, and we drag out all the dead bodies we can find. Pile them up. Burn them.”
There was a long silence.
Finally, Candy said: “Are you mad?”
“Yeah, bloody mad,” replied Jay. “What about you?”
“I can’t,” said Lisa. “I mean we can’t…”
“We can,” continued Jay. “And we’ll have to. Because if we don’t, I think we’re in for another night like we had last night. Don’t know about you, but I can do without that.”
It made sense. Horrifying, but it made sense.
“Think about it,” Jay went on. “The Black Stuff can only make…make puppets out of those dead people that are still…well, almost intact. We’ve got to get rid of them.” Candy struggled to control her bile. Intact—such an ordinary, but such an acutely horrible word in that context.
“That won’t account for any bodies under rubble,” said Alex, who then felt momentarily speechless when Gordon turned to look away. He knew that he was thinking of his aunt. He went on at last, “or maybe trapped in out-of-the-way places we can’t find. We can’t guarantee that we’ll find them all.”
“So what else do you suggest? We can’t just sit here and…”
Alex waved his hands. “I’m not disagreeing with you. What you say makes sense…if anything makes sense any more. I’m just saying we can’t guarantee we’ll find them all.”
“I can’t do it,” said Candy simply.
“Candy, we’ve got to try…”
“I just can’t do it, Alex. And it’s no use trying to make me do it. Christ, there might be people that we know.”
“Wood,” said Gordon, and everyone looked at him, waiting for him to continue. But he couldn’t manage another word. Instead, he pointed to the smouldering remains of the bonfire. “Tonight. Come again.”
“Good,” said Jay. “That’s a first priority. Prepare for tonight. We need to get more timber, anything else that’ll burn. Pile it up here and get ready for another night like last night. Just in case we don’t get all the bodies, like Alex says.”
“Okay,” said Annie. “I hate the idea. But that…that Black Stuff wants us dead, I’m sure of it. As for the dead bodies up here…it’s not right what it’s done to them. We should do what Jay says, stop it bringing them back again. So I’ll help with the bodies, I mean. Obviously, the boy can’t do anything. Best if he stays with you, Lisa. He seems more attached to you.”
Lisa nodded. The boy was still in his safe place, refusing to come out and face the other horrors that surrounded them. His eyes were fixed on the smouldering remains of the bonfire. “Candy and I will collect wood,” she said. “While you do…what you have to do.”
“No way,” said Damon. “I’m not collecting stiffs. You going to do it, Wayne?”
“Look…” Wayne struggled to control his confusion and anger. “Someone’s going to come and get us out of
here. They’ve got to! But look out there, look at it! Maybe the rescue services have got their hands full. Give them time! What are they going to do to us if they find we’ve been burning people’s bloody relatives? It’s mad. How am I going to explain why I barbecued my fucking head teacher?”
“That’s not Stafford lying out there,” said Jay tightly. “It’s not him!”
“I saw him, O’Connor!”
“Go on out there and look at his face.”
“Fuck off.”
Gordon stepped forward.
“Aunt,” he said. “Not her.”
“So what does the dummy know?” said Wayne dismissively, turning away.
Gordon’s face flushed. Emotion was flaring as he tried to respond. But no words would come.
“That’s enough,” said Lisa to Wayne. “You’ve no call to talk to him like that.”
Gordon had begun striding towards Wayne.
“No, don’t!” shouted Annie.
Wayne turned quickly, just before Gordon caught him by the collar. Wayne lashed out, but his blow went over Gordon’s head when he ducked. Wayne yelled an obscenity and tried to kick him, but this time Gordon kicked his leg away and he fell, yelling curses. Gordon held on to his collar and began dragging him across the grass towards the corpses.
Damon hurried forward.
“Stay where you are!” snapped Jay. Damon slowed, but kept moving as if he meant to help Wayne. “I mean it, Damon.”
Damon halted, his face flaring with anger.
“Stop it!” shouted Annie. “Everyone, just stop it!”
Wayne had twisted on the ground until his coat was a knot around his body, his collar twisted up around his neck, choking him. As he clung on to the collar with both hands he screamed abuse at Gordon.
“You dummy! You fucking dummy!”
But now Gordon had reached the man’s body. Stooping down, dodging to avoid Wayne’s wildly thrashing legs as he tried to kick him again, Gordon finally got a grip on one arm and forced him over.
Wayne made a strangled sound of horror.
He was face to face with the corpse.
Gordon held him there, forcing him to look. Finally he let him go, jumping back when Wayne thrashed to his feet. For a moment, it looked as if he might attack Gordon. Instead he pointed an angry forefinger at him.
“You! You’re…you’re fucking dead, you dummy. Put your hands on me. You’re fucking…dead!”
“Well?” said Jay. “It’s not him, is it? It’s not Stafford.”
Still furious, Wayne refused to look back down at the corpse.
“It’s like he said. That guy…Alex whatsisname. It’s gas. Some kind of chemical or something. Made us see that Black Stuff, and those dead people.”
Jay looked at Alex. “You still think it’s gas?”
Alex held his hands wide helplessly. “I don’t know what to think.”
“What about the bodies, then, Alex? Do we just let them come back again tonight? Or do we do something about it?”
“All right,” said Alex uncomfortably. “We should do what you say. Just in case.”
“You’re mad!” yelled Damon. “I’m not having any part of it.”
“Me neither!” shouted Wayne.
“Okay,” said Jay. “Okay, everyone knows where they stand. We’ll get some food from the mini-mart. After that, we’d best get started.”
Wayne glared at Gordon as he returned to the others. Then, realising how close he was to the corpses, he angrily moved away.
“We need some kind of transport,” said Alex. His mouth was suddenly dry. “We can’t just do this one by one. It would take too long.” He turned to look beyond the trees towards the remains of the main street. “I think…I think I saw a lorry, or a dump truck or something. While we were walking around the cliff-edge, trying to find a way off.”
“What kind of state was it in?” asked Jay.
“It looked okay. The keys might still be in the dash.”
“It’s worth a try.”
“Fucking mad!” snapped Damon.
“You still think someone is going to come?” asked Lisa.
Damon didn’t answer.
“Know what I think?” continued Lisa in a calm voice. “I think that what’s happened here hasn’t just happened to Edmonville. I think it’s happened all over the world. That Black…Stuff. That’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Those dead bodies walking around, threatening us. Being made to look like people we know. I don’t think we can rely on anyone or anything except ourselves. Maybe…” She shook her head, not wanting to continue.
“Maybe what?” asked Annie.
There were tears in Lisa’s eyes as she struggled with her thoughts.
“Maybe,” she said, “this is the end of the world. What they call the ‘Day of Reckoning’.”
“Fuck me!” said Wayne. “We’ve got a Born Again with us. Just what we need.”
“Shut up,” said Annie.
“Too much talk,” said Jay. “And there’s a lot of work to be done.”
“I’m with Wayne,” said Damon. “I’m not putting my hands on any dead bodies. Do what you like, but count me out.”
“All right,” replied Jay. “You’re counted out. Off you go.”
“What?”
“I said off you go. Both of you. Me, Alex, Gordon and Annie are going to take a look at that lorry. See if it’s in working order. But you’re not a party to any of this, so…off you go.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you don’t want to be part of this group, you and Wayne can just go and start your own. Make your own way. Do your own thing.”
“You can’t make us go,” said Wayne.
“Oh yes I can. So you make your own arrangements for tonight, when the dark comes again, and that Black Stuff comes back up from the pit. You’re not staying here with us if you don’t pull your weight.”
Wayne looked at Damon. Between them, they tried to conjure up the courage to bluff it out. But when they both turned to look at the others, the expression on every face made them back down.
“What about her, then?” sulked Wayne, pointing at Candy. “She said she wouldn’t do it. You’re not making her go, are you?”
“I’ve changed my mind,” said Candy, white-faced. “I’ll do it if I have to.”
Jay nodded. “Good. But we’ll stick to what we’ve agreed. Lisa and Candy collecting wood. We’ll search for bodies.”
“We’ll collect wood…” began Wayne, and dried when he saw the fixed expressions on everyone’s face. The threat didn’t have to be repeated.
“Come on, then,” said Jay. “Let’s get started.” He looked at Alex, his face grim. Then, quickly striding forward, he seized one of the two bodies by the arms and began hauling it away across the grass. Swallowing hard, realising that Jay was relying on him, Alex moved to the other body and repeated the manoeuvre, trying to tell himself that the body was only a shell and that they were doing the best thing. Suddenly Annie was at his side, reaching down. They exchanged a look, and now Annie was helping him, both holding an arm and dragging the body after Jay. Lisa had turned the boy away.
Wayne and Damon stood looking at each other, now cursing the blank grey sky, now making a joint run at the remains of the bonfire and kicking soot, ash and sparks high into the air. When they had exhausted themselves, the others had reached the first of the ruined buildings beyond the trees that led to the main street.
Then, heads down and without speaking, they slowly began to follow the others.
Chapter Five
The Ordeal of Juliet DeLore
Juliet had lost all sense of time in the storeroom.
There was something wrong with the sky beyond the window during the day. Grey, always grey. No clouds, no birds. No vapour trails.
No sound.
It was as if the world beyond that window had simply ceased to exist. She had tried shouting, to draw attention to her plight. The sound of Trevor laughing on the other s
ide of the door had made her shout until her voice was hoarse, and she’d given up. The glass face of her watch had been shattered some time during her ordeal, but although she could not check the time she felt that she had been locked in this storeroom for well over two days. Why hadn’t someone come? If there had been an earthquake or something, surely the rescuers would have arrived by now. The shock, the continued tension and stress, the lack of food and water—all were taking their toll. Miserably, she’d had to relieve herself in the far corner of the storeroom, creeping away when Trevor had been in one of his “silent” moods.
When the grey beyond the window had become black for the second time, and the storeroom was plunged into complete darkness, it seemed that Trevor had more energy. Throughout the night, he sat on the other side of the door, gabbling obscenities at her through the wood, deliberately slobbering over the tinned food that he’d stacked beside him, taunting her.
When Trevor slammed his hand against the door, Juliet snapped awake from the troubled half-sleep into which she’d fallen.
“Can’t have you nodding off, Juliet. That wouldn’t be playing the game, would it?”
Juliet replied in kind. Leaning back angrily, she slammed the crowbar against the door. Trevor merely laughed as he opened another tin and drank peach juice straight from the can, deliberately making cartoon slobbering noises for Juliet’s benefit. Didn’t he need sleep?