by Jon Fore
“Yeah. Come on,” Shannon started back down the passage.
Ethan rushed to catch up with her, and suddenly saw the nightmare around him. “Oh my God…”
“It gets a lot worse,” Shannon quipped back as she continued.
“Why are we going so fast?” Ethan asked, still a bit sore from his trek to the Brighton house and the nightmare below.
“There are things in here I don’t want to meet again.”
“Like what?” Ethan enquired as they entered the stairwell.
“When we are outside, we can talk. We have to get out of here.”
“Yeah, alright.”
Ethan followed her over the empty elevator shaft, through the hallway, and into the reception area. Here he cursed under his breath wetly then dry heaved nothing onto the floor. Shannon took his arm forcibly and led him over the remains of the nurse and into the cold grayness of the outside. Ethan heaved again, this time bringing up some liquid from his empty stomach, which he spat to the ground.
“How do we get out of this town?” Shannon asked while keeping her eyes locked on the now aged hospital.
“I thought you would know,” Ethan replied around a mouth too full of spit.
“Don’t you live here?”
“No, I don’t, actually. I thought you did.”
“I might,” Shannon said under her breath.
“You don’t know?”
“I can’t remember much of anything, past last night.”
“Great. Now what do we do?” Ethan sounded exasperated.
“Find a map, a car, and get the fuck out of here.”
“So you don’t even know if you live in this town? How do you know your name?”
“I found my wallet.”
“Oh.”
“Can we go now?”
“Are you hurt? There is blood in your hair and on your face. What happened?” He sounded genuinely concerned for her.
Shannon turned on him angrily. “They tried to rape me to death, alright? I don’t remember a fucking thing before that!”
“Are you hurt?” Ethan asked again, trying not to show shock at what this girl had just shouted at him.
“No, just sore.”
“Let’s get to a drug store and get you cleaned up. I need some shoes, also.”
“So you started all this?”
Ethan looked up and down the street, looking for some sign of a grocery or drugstore. “I’m not sure. We can talk about it over a Twinkie; I’m starved.”
Without another word, Shannon started down the street with Ethan in tow.
* * *
In a cave at the base of the Black Water Mountain, a large pool of water stirred and then eased a thin tendril of itself from the confines of its shore, gently out of the cave’s opening, infesting the forest with its wicked nature. For the first time in centuries, Black Water Mountain began to run with black water, like blood from some ancient wound.
Chapter 24
The pair walked slowly, watchfully down the street lined with ruined and burnt shops and offices. To Ethan, most of the town was like a large strip mall that stuttered. There were no high-rise buildings, at least none taller than the four-story courthouse, and all of the shops were one or two floors, some with apartments and others with offices. It was more like a concentration of suburbia in the middle of wilderness and farms than a real town.
Shannon had no particular opinion about Black Water; it was a town like many others. Because she seemed instinctively to know how to get around the place, she must have lived here at one point…and for some time. She was not the type of person to go searching every street and road near her home, but discovered them as needed and when time allowed. Shannon reasoned she must have lived here for at least a couple of years.
The road curved a bit and then sloped downward and into the parking lot of some small store. Before it stood a large neon sign slowing rotating, which read ‘Sir Speedy Convenience, the store with hours you keep…’ on both sides. The obligatory Bud and Bud Light ads were stuck to the inside windows surrounded by the fleeting, failing hopes of just about every cigarette manufacturer’s advertising budget. The rest of the building remained hidden by the structures on the side of the street.
“That’s the local drug store?” Ethan asked, pointing down the hill from inside his jumper pockets.
“Yeah.”
“And you remembered it was here but not where you live?”
“Yeah.”
“That must bug you out.”
“Yeah.”
Shannon sounded as if she were becoming annoyed, so Ethan fell quiet.
They shuffled on in silence, watching the Sir Speedy Convenience blossom into a full-fledge grocery store from behind the buildings. It had a large but mostly empty parking lot. The vehicles that were there had suffered extensive vandalism, some were even turned over. The rest had not a single solid window or tire filled with air. They were hollowed metal behemoths who had lost a battle with their creators.
Shannon looked at the somewhat lanky asylum escapee next to her. He was attractive enough—honest looking in his face and eyes—but it was a hospital after all. “So…why where you in that hospital?” she asked gently.
Ethan looked at her a moment, “I saw some things that they didn’t believe, and they think I killed my girlfriend,” he said flatly.
A bolt of fear shot through Shannon before she reasoned herself to a fragile calm. She had just blasted a nerd in the streets, like in a movie but with much more gore. “Did you?” She wished immediately she could take that back, but Ethan answered quickly enough for her.
“No. It was a monster. I tried to kill the monster.”
“I see, and…what did this monster look like?”
“Which one? There were three that I counted…well then there was Madison, so four—but others were in that cave, also.”
“Cave?”
Ethan stopped at the very edge of the parking lot, his eyes locked on a number of heads hanging from the store’s façade. Driven into the mouth of each was some enormous nail, more like a railroad spike and all of them were upside down, their hair hanging limp and scabby. “This is insane, really…”
Shannon’s eye locked on one of the faces, one that she recognized even though it was hanging inverted. She could not remember who it was. She knew only that this woman was important to her, someone who had played a major role in her life, but someone she just could not remember. Nevertheless, the sight of her head hanging on a storefront filled Shannon with a smothering sorrow. “I know her…” she said softly as she pointed on the third heard from the left.
“Who is it?” Ethan asked before considering.
“I don’t know,” Shannon replied, as a tear broke free of her eye, “but I know she was important to me.”
“Let’s just get in there and get what we need, alright?”
“Yeah,” Shannon said in a sad voice.
They walked beneath the heads and into the store. The lights still worked in many isles, and the stock was for the most part still on the shelves. The problem that faced them now was that everything seemed to be aged by years. The strange aging that had been going on outside made him wonder if the food might no longer be edible.
“Alright, I’m going to go look for food. You head over to the first aid stuff and get what you need to take care of yourself. We will meet back here in a few minutes,” Ethan offered.
“I don’t know what I need,” Shannon whispered, still fighting with the unremembered head nailed to the front of the store.
“Ah, well, where are you hurt? Is it just the face?”
“No, they raped me.”
“And you hurt…down there?”
“Yeah, a bit.”
She looked like a lost child, a puppy too brutally beaten to come when his master called. “Do you have any bleeding?”
“I don’t think so, not sure though…”
Ethan’s head swam. He had never had to deal with something li
ke this, even as a volunteer medic. In rape cases, they regarded the groin as evidence unless the patient’s life was threatened. He knew the mechanics, though: bleeding, infection, bandaging. It would have to do.
“Do you want me to take a look?”
“No, Ethan. I got that part,” she shot at him dryly.
“Fine, you will need some panty liners and two douches, one vinegar and the other saline. Are you menstruating?”
“No.”
“Then that should do. You might want to take some Tylenol or ibuprofen for pain.”
“You need anything?”
“No, I just need something to eat. Back here in five minutes?”
“Yeah,” Shannon replied as she worked her way down an aisle.
Ethan walked towards the left side of the store were the large browsing refrigerators stood in a silent row. They were still powered and the foods within still frozen. This, to him, was a good sign. As he rounded the last fridge, he was presented with the dairy section: a collection of molded cheeses, bloated cartons of milk, and a sickening odor.
Ethan coughed back a deep belly gag and turned back toward the dried goods. Perhaps granola bars or candy had survived. He walked the length of a few isles, testing the foods with his hand, finding most in a dried ashy state. That was until he reached the processed desserts isle with the cellophane wrapped treats. There, in the middle, were his coveted Twinkies, along with Ding Dongs and Susie Q’s. They appeared to be fine, untouched by age. He tore open a box of Ding Dongs, removed the plastic, and tried it. He then collected a number of boxes and continued searching for bottled water.
“Ethan! I got what I need!” Shannon called from the front of the store.
“I’ll be right there; just looking for water!”
“There is a pallet of it up here! Didn’t you see it when we came in?”
Ethan turned back to the front, not bothering to answer such a silly question. He grabbed a wool coat from a stand he passed and a pair of work boots in his size. He carried all of this in a stack up to the registers.
“What kind of drug store sells coats and boots and fishing tackle?” he asked Shannon.
“This store has everything. Mr. Jerkins runs his store like a miniature Wal-Mart.”
“Mr. Jerkins?” Ethan asked as he sat to lace up the new boots.
“Yeah, he and his wife own this store…” Shannon trailed off as she realized that a memory had just broken through the wet velvet curtain and stumbled to a halt in front of her. She had worked here for many summers, the Jerkins had helped to send her off to college to get her degree in marketing, and that head on the front of the store was poor Mrs. Jerkins. “I worked here during the summer when I was in school…”
Ethan stopped lacing for a moment and looked at Shannon. Even with the bruise and the swollen lip, she was a lovely girl, much like Abby but just a measure more slender, more elegant than the tomboyish look Abby had worn. He reached over and put his hand on her shoulder.
She, in turn, looked at him through strands of fallen blonde hair and locked eyes. To Shannon, Ethan was an attractive, if not younger, guy. His eyes looked almost artificially green, theatrically intense, but deeply caring and intelligent. She smiled weakly at him, “I’m fine…I just knew these people, but didn’t know I knew them, you know?”
“Yeah, I understand; it’s okay. Your memory is coming back.”
“Soon, I hope. You almost done?”
“Yeah,” Ethan replied as he pulled the last boot on and began tying it.
“Hey kid, wanna see something really gross?” a gravelly voice asked. It was sinister, distant, and immediately recognizable to Ethan, even before he looked up.
He stilled his thundering heart as he brought his head up and looked past Shannon’s shoulder. There, just a few steps behind Shannon stood the obese, greasy bum, still in garbage-collected clothing, still with the stained brown fedora, still with the hideous skin affliction that made him seem as if hell spawned.
The grotesque homeless man began to chuckle deeply. “…and you thought you got rid of me with those stupid pills didn’t you?”
“Ethan?” Shannon asked, puzzlement etched around the swelling of her face.
Ethan swallowed hard, his mouth now much too dry. He knew fear, had known it since the bum first appeared, but that was over, done with, and gone. How could this thing be back, this creation of his own dark thoughts when the doctor had promised him banished? He was going mad, Ethan decided, but then again, he could still question his own sanity. Confusion swamped him for a moment, but he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, something darted between two isles at the far end of the store.
“Ethan?” Shannon asked again.
“There is something in here with us. I just saw it duck behind those shelves,” he whispered, his voice still shaking.
“We should go,” Shannon urged as she began to stand, her voice thick with fear.
“I think it was a child.” Ethan stood and began to walk toward the far side of the store.
“Ethan! Wait!” Shannon hissed.
Ethan raised his hand to her as a response and continued.
Shannon cursed softly and pulled free the pistol in her pocket as she followed him. “Ethan…” she hissed again.
“Well, hello there,” Ethan said pleasantly down one of the aisles. “No, wait, don’t run. I won’t hurt you! Shannon, it’s a little girl.”
“Where?” she asked as she began to jog toward him. “Is she hurt?”
“I can show you her insides…” the bum offered in a kind voice.
Ethan ran to the next aisle and disappeared behind the shelves. Shannon turned down the first aisle and rushed to the end. She could hear Ethan moving with her down the adjoining aisle. He was calling to the girl, coaxing her not to run away.
Shannon reached the end of the row at the same time as the little girl. She was no more than nine, wearing blue jeans, a t-shirt, and a bright pink jacket. Her face was a clay mask of fright, and she brandished a squirt bottle of some type of all-purpose cleaner like a gun. When she saw Shannon, her face twisted a bit tighter, and she released a sob of pure terror.
“Sweetie, we won’t hurt you. Ethan, slow down; you’re scaring her!” She stuffed the pistol back into her pocket, squatted down to the girl’s height, and offered her a hand. “It’s alright. Are you hurt?
“Leave me alone!” the girl screamed desperately.
“What’s your name, sweetie, huh? My name is Shannon. My friend over there is Ethan. We want to help you.”
The girl just stared at Shannon, her eyes impossibly large, her face quivering with fear.
“Please, sweetie, come here; I promise I won’t hurt you.”
The girl looked at Ethan once, then back to Shannon. She was so terribly scared, so innocence-shattered that Shannon felt a tear slip from her own eye. This poor little girl had survived a night that almost drove her insane. Shannon suddenly wondered if the brutal animals had raped the girl, raped as she was, and her heart twisted painfully. She no longer cared what was happening to her or to Ethan, what had happened to this town, or what evil had flooded into her life. All she cared about now was getting this little flower out of here and to some safe place, to wash away the horrors she must have survived last night, to ease them into those memories forgotten. She would do anything to keep this town from having her, and she began to weep softly her conviction.
The small child watched her a moment longer, unsure until the tears began to fall from the pretty woman’s eyes. The simple expression of emotion was well beyond the monstrosities she had seen and she ran to her. She fell into her arms, into her soft, warm chest, and cried in a way she had never cried before.
A second set of arms embraced her gently, but with more strength than the woman, and Kayla knew it was the man. He was there, enveloping both her and the woman in a protective way, as her father would have if he were still alive. Kayla sobbed for the relief, wept for the comfort of strangers, and crie
d for her lost parents.
"I can show you her liver, if ya want…"
Ethan realized that unlike before, the homeless man’s breath smelled horrible and he could feel it wash over his neck from behind.
Chapter 25
Stan climbed from the hammock and stood in the small room which he called the berthing compartment. The TV burst white static soundlessly, sparkling and jittering down the screen, a slow roll shattering the chaos of white noise. It had been less than a day, but he already felt so completely cut off, so starkly alone that he wanted to go to town and look for survivors.
He sat at the laptop, disrupted the screen saver, and called up the image from the telescope hidden on the roof. The thick bluish-gray fog still shielded his view of the town, keeping him from seeing the finer details. The orange glow was gone, so he reasoned the fires had burned themselves out or were put out by the volunteer fire department. The second was a much more comforting idea than the first.
Stan reasoned, though, that if the fire department had fought the fires, then they should be on the radio, or maybe even the cops. He lifted the small scanner and stared at its blank screen. Hope battled with loathing; Stan knew what he would hear if he turned the radio on, but he could not be sure. After many long moments, he turned the volume knob until it clicked. The numbers began to run through the preprogrammed channels without stopping. He watched this for many long moments before turning the volume up slowly. To his relief, the numbers did not stop indicating a channel.
He placed the radio on the counter next to the laptop and retrieved a pack of crackers from the cupboard. He opened them and began munching absent-mindedly, worrying over whether he should escape his self-imposed imprisonment and find out what really happened last night, see if this truly was the end of the world. The taste of mold grabbed the inside of his mouth and it squeezed his empty stomach violently. He spit the half-chewed crackers to the stainless steel counter and let the rest simply fall out of his opened mouth.
The packet of crackers was molded over, green, furry, and dark. He dropped the pack and worked the remains out of his mouth with a finger. As he did so, he opened the cabinet again and found most of the food had gone bad, either moldy or milky black. He had just stocked this food no more than a few months ago, and it should have lasted a number of years.