by Jon Fore
Ethan suddenly stopped, barred from further passage by another membrane of a wall. He turned and looked back at the girls who came to a stop before him. “That’s it; it does not go any further.”
“Oh no! You’re kidding,” Shannon squeaked.
“No, I’m not. If we hurry, I think we can make it down the mountain and back to the drug store before—”
A hissing sound, not unlike bacon frying, stopped the words in his throat as the fog closed in over the trail they had just come up. Ethan suddenly thought that this is what termites sound like while scurrying around in their wooden nests.
“Ethan!” Shannon squealed. “What do we do?”
“Don’t panic. The fog is not closing on us; we must not panic. Let’s think our way through this.” His eyes betrayed his instructions.
“We can’t just sleep here, can we? For how long?”
The questions were coming too fast for Ethan to think, and panic began to rise within him. He knew that panic meant death; that he had to control what was happening and think. “Wait, stop. Let me think for a minute; we have to stay in control. Can you hang with that?”
“Yeah.”
Shannon sounded very frightened but she held her emotions in check. Kayla was not in as much control, and began to whimper softly. Shannon held her close as Ethan began to pace.
“This doesn’t make sense. We both assume that whatever is in control of whatever is going on wanted us to come up here; that is why the fog opened and ran up in a straight line. It wanted us here, but why?”
“It wanted to kill us?” Shannon offered before considering Kayla.
“It could have done that last night. There has to be another reason,” Ethan reasoned.
The hissing sound began again, and a new trail opened before them, this time skirting the width of the mountain. It was as if the fog knew they wanted to escape and decided it was not going to hold them any longer.
“Come on, let’s take the path while we still have it,” Ethan urged as he led the way.
“Will this lead us around to the other side of the mountain?” Shannon asked hopefully.
“Well, the long way. If the fog does not close in on us again, it should.”
This picked her step up, and she helped Kayla navigate the more difficult tripping hazards by actually lifting her from the forest’s floor. The travel was easier now, no longer up hill, but the fact that one foot landed lower than the other threw them off balance a bit, and slowed them to the same speed they had used coming up. It was going to be a long trip, Shannon was sure, but Ethan did not show any sign of concern, so she did not mention hers.
The going became more and more difficult, and Shannon finally started carrying Kayla on her back. Ethan shortly relieved her of the wiggling burden as they continued. Now that they were on this different trail, one that had been under the fog for some time, the plants and trees had begun to decay. This left no trustworthy handhold and the rotting leaves where slick underfoot. When the trail turned rockier and jagged with boulders, Ethan thought of it as a relief and much easier going.
They trekked and hop-scotched their way through the rocky terrain for some time before stopping. The light was beginning to fail the sky, and they were now condemned to spend the night on the mountain. None of them liked this idea, but there was no way to go but further on or back the way they had come, both of which would be much too hazardous in the dark of night. Moreover, the night brought a chill that was simply unseasonable.
Ethan picked a spot to set up the small self-erecting tent and began to gather firewood. This was an easy task considering the amount of dead wood lying about. He made a number of large piles of wood around the clearing and stashed a small bit of fire-starter stick in each pile. He then heaped large amounts of wood within the ring of woodpiles, enough to feed all of the fires all night if he had to. He remembered the creature that hunted these woods at night, knew what he was about, and if he were to reappear, he would light these woods ablaze with fire and gunshots.
He could not help thinking that they were doing exactly as whatever controlled this nightmare wanted. Walk here, then here, then setup camp, and I will see you in the morning. This scared him more than he knew and left him with no need for sleep.
When the tent was up and the girls squirreled away inside, he zipped up the flaps and took a seat in front of the fire. If that thing came out of the trees, he would be ready. Now all he had to do was sit, sit and wait for the screeching thing to realize the night and come bent to the hunt.
Chapter 32
It was barely perceivable, but Ethan could tell in the faint firelight that the smoky fog was closing around them, congealing like some dark scab. It had filled in the space they had come from first, easing, sighing into a solid wall of swirling dread and moist membrane. The sound of its passing was a gentle whisper, like a fine rain on dry leaves. This was the only sound other than the soft crackling and random sharp retorts of the fire.
Before he had considered what this swirling closure might mean, the path they were to use in the morning was entirely consumed, their progress barred by the smog and their fear of what might lay in wait within its blinding concealment. The constant swirling motion of his surroundings was maddening, almost sickening, and he looked to the warmth of the fire. Trapped within this intent of the unknown, some evil thing with its dark desires began to rob from him his will.
The pestilent wall had constricted around them, tightening the space where their small camp sat, seeming to suck the very oxygen from the air. Ethan began to feel more than just threatened: defeated. Whatever was plaguing this mountain had taken Madison and made her its tool. This fact scared Ethan more than the evil itself. Enslavement to some force, some tangible evil, for however long it would hold him, was too much a nightmarish ideal.
The smog appeared to have stopped closing in, but the pressure it built within his head was becoming unbearable. A raging migraine had begun to develop, and small bursts of white light teased him from just beyond his vision. Sweat spread across his forehead and began to run down and along his temples as he shivered from the cold and near-blinding pain. He attempted to justify this new concession, convince himself he had tried, fought so very hard to bring himself and the two innocent girls out of here, but the thought seemed unable to find purchase.
He closed his eyes tightly, trying desperately to stop the blinding flashes and overcome the building dread caused by the tightening of the fog. He lay down in the rotting refuse of the dead forest and decided to just stay there and let whatever came have him and the doomed girls sleeping in the tent. The pungent smell of old whiskey washed across his face, drenched in the stench of the unclean.
“Giving up, fucko?” the bum asked in his hiss like voice. “Just gonna lay here and die, huh? What about me, you selfish prick-drip?”
“Leave me alone,” Ethan said, his eyes still clenched tightly against the blinding flashes.
“No, little boy, I won’t. Get the fuck up! Go screw that blonde bruise in the ass! Screw the little girl, I don’t care, but get the fuck up!
“I can’t do anything about this; just leave me alone.” With these words, Ethan suddenly felt conviction for what he was feeling, as though these words confirmed his decision, but deep in the core of his thoughts, a small spark snapped into existence and began to burn with a tiny fire.
“You can’t die yet, you no-ball wonder douche!”
“Why not?” Ethan asked, his voice growing more convinced.
“Because,” the bum said simply, “I am you, and I don’t want to die.”
For the first time, Ethan heard fear in the voice of the ragged, rotting corpse of a man that had plagued him for so long. His eyes shot open, and he found the filthy face hanging just above his, his desperation mirrored in the blood-shot, discolored eyes. Just beyond the putrid face was the night sky, a small circle of it, but still encrusted with stars like some haphazard collection of precious stones. The small flame, the sputtering tin
y burn of hope, exploded through his mind with the rage of a storm. He sat up.
“You’re right; I’m not done yet.”
As another first in Ethan troubled life, the bum smiled, just a slight curling of his lips and suddenly vanished, revealing the sensually radiant Madison standing within the small clearing, just inside the wall of smog. Ethan sucked in a frightful breath and became erect at the same instant.
“Ethan, they have asked me to come talk to you,” she said longingly, desire dripping from her words. She was nude, as before, but the mist played across her body in a teasing way, tendrils first showing the promise of her intimacy, and then just barely concealing it.
Fear assaulted Ethan like an ice pick, seeking out and finding his raw need to survive. Her body, her sensuality, the captivating curves of her flesh held this in check. He slowly brought himself up to stand, never breaking eye contact with Madison. “Who, Madison? Who asked you to talk to me?”
“They did—the Culture.”
“Who is the Culture?”
Madison’s eyes sparkled with desire, with unabashed instinctual want. She absently began to trace the smog’s caress with her own hands, her eyes fluttering at the joys of her own touch. “They are the dream givers…the gift bringers…the beginnings and ends to all things…and they want you…”
“The Culture?”
“Yes, Ethan. Don’t you feel them?” She moaned under her own touch. “They were very angry with you at first; you trespassed through their home, walked right around them like you were the god and not they.”
“God?” Ethan asked, fighting violently within himself to not drop the shotgun and take Madison for his own pleasure.
“Yes…” she hissed as her hand found the place between her legs. “They told me you are special…” She moaned again.
“Madison, we just want to leave.”
“You can’t, Ethan.” Madison suddenly stopped as if to realize that her ploy was not working and dropped her hands at her side. “Listen, they want you to come and join them… They have made you this offer: if you come willingly…join the Culture without resistance…they will provide you a station of stature among them… They have also promised to give you the two with you as your toys… The fucking here is incredible, Ethan…I swear you’ll think you’re in heaven.”
“What did they promise you, Madison?” Ethan shot back.
“Oh, you should see the men I get to pick from—such beautiful men…escaped slaves from a long time ago…but they are so animal…so gorgeous to see… Ah, they know how to pound a woman, let me tell you…” She moaned again, this time at her memories. “And I can have as many as I want…in any way that I want…as often as I want.”
“I don’t want that, Madison. Tell them I refuse.”
“What? Are you nuts, Ethan? Now I know why Abby was going to leave you… You’re such a fucking nerd…”
Ethan lifted the barrel of the gun and leveled it at Madison. “It’s time for you to go.”
Madison chuckled in a breathy way. “Alright!” she shouted. “They told me to tell you that you can have me if you want…”
Ethan felt a sudden drop in his resolve, but he fought to maintain it. “What is the Culture?” he asked, finding it to difficult to say anything, more or less “no.”
“They are ancient…they are wise…and they have been here for centuries, Ethan… They tended themselves for millennia before people even began working with metal, they say… The Culture still remembers those days of transit…forcing those simple mindless creatures to serve them…to bear their fledgling society until they found Black Water Mountain… That was their turning point and moment of greatness.”
“The Culture’s?”
“Yes…” she said again, in a moaning way. “Then, the Culture was weak…almost helpless except for those they controlled… When they found the cave…the nurturing waters…the tribes of man so readily available…it was a moment of great triumph… The servants brought the Culture to the cave and hid them in the lake…. That is where they have stayed for the last five centuries…”
“What do they want from me?” Ethan asked.
“Well, I guess what they wanted from me: your undying devotion…”
“I won’t, Madison. I won’t give myself to their slavery.”
“Oh, yes you will; that is not the question… The question is: do you go to them willingly and become a prince in the Culture…or do they take you and you become my own servant? I always thought you would look good fucking me while you sucked off another man…”
Ethan felt a rush of trail mix and soda reach the back of his mouth, and he almost vomited. “Go, you sick twisted bitch!” he screamed at her.
“Ethan?” a soft voice came from the tent.
“Then you will be taken, Ethan…and I will have you in so many dreadful ways…” Madison drifted backwards and dissolved into the smog with a sighing hiss.
The tent’s zipper ran its course downward, and Shannon looked out at him. The light was low, but she could tell he was alone. “Who were you talking to, Ethan?”
“Madison.”
“She came back?” Worry filled her voice.
“Yeah.”
Shannon tried to look everywhere at once. “Where is she?
“She’s gone. I told her to leave.”
“You rejected her?”
“Yeah, she wanted me to go with her, but I refused.” Ethan turned towards Shannon. “The trails are closed off in both directions,” he said simply.
Shannon saw that Ethan was thoroughly aroused again, and it looked painful in his jeans, but the shock of no escape stopped that train of thought. “What do you mean?” she asked as she scrambled from the tent.
“Look.” He indicated the missing trails.
“Shit,” Shannon whispered lightly. “Now what?”
“We wait for the morning,” Ethan replied as he sat.
“Hurts?” Shannon asked simply as she began removing her shoes.
“Yeah, but it will pass. I can’t believe she can have such an effect on me.”
“She had the same effect on me last night. I think she is more than just a pretty girl, like she has a pheromone…” Shannon replied as she rolled her jeans down and stepped out of them.
“What’s a pheromone?” Ethan asked.
“Like a lightning bug; their glowing butts make other insects think they are trying to mate. When they get close enough, they eat them—like a sex trap,” she replied as she dropped her flannel shirt onto her jeans. Her almost nudity began to arouse her, in the open, in the forest, naked.
“It would have to be. She is pretty and all, but she never had an effect on me like that.”
“Don’t be ashamed about it; like I said, she effected me as well, and I am a girl.” She dropped her bra and panties onto the growing pile of clothes and approached Ethan next to the fire.
He looked up at her, and his breath caught a moment. The firelight played along her figure, highlighting this curve, then that, giving her skin a soft glow. His mouth ran dry instantly.
“I want to make love, Ethan, like it is going to be our last time. The way this is going, it just may be.”
The erection that had begun to subside came racing back. “What about, well, you know… Won’t it hurt?”
“God I hope so,” Shannon said as she hugged his head against his lower stomach. “Take me, Ethan; let me show you what I can do for you with my body, and not just my mouth.”
Ethan took her there, in the failing firelight, and brought her to many climaxes, each one almost loud enough to awaken the girl still sleeping in the tent, each one a standard of resolve for them both to continue, to not give in to the pressure of the evil around them.
Chapter 33
Kayla woke to the bland sunlight filtering down through the smog and the cobalt blue of the tent’s walls. She rolled herself out of her sleeping bag and noticed that Ms. Shannon was gone. She had gone to sleep next to her, but now she as missing. F
ear ran a jagged course through her and she stood motionless, listening, seeking a noise that would prove to her that she was not alone. What came to her was a soft growling, almost gentle, like what she would imagine a baby lion would make when playing.
She worked up enough nerve to gently unzip the tent’s door, but found it already opened. She peeked out a small hole between the doors and saw the woman and the man, lying next to a dead fire, too near the smog. They were wrapped in each other’s arms and sleeping. The woman was snoring lightly, like that baby lion.
She went to the man and knelt next to him. He was almost completely underneath the sleeping bag, but he was the one who knew where the food was and Kayla was hungry. She shook him gently. “Mister?”
“Yeah, I’m awake,” Ethan said dreamily.
“I’m hungry.”
The memories of the past few days rushed him and crowded the forefront of his thoughts. He had allowed himself to become lost in Shannon’s lust, which allowed him to escape, if for only a little while, the horror they were now living. He sat bolt upright. “What?” he asked just a bit too loud.
Kayla took a tentative step back, “I’m hungry…and I have to pee.”
“Oh, sorry, sweetie; you scared me. You can go behind the tent to pee—you know how to in the woods, right?”
“Yeah,” she answered as she headed for the back of the tent.
“I’ll go with her,” Shannon announced as she climbed from the sleeping bag and followed the little girl.
Ethan watched her go, trying to memorize the shape of her bottom as it moved her away. When he could no longer see her, he fished some foil- and cellophane-wrapped foods from his pack. The two jugs of bleach had smashed the Twinkies somewhat, but they were still edible—just a bit difficult to handle.