Ping - From the Apocalypse

by Susan Lowry

  When the three women were busy that morning, still getting to know each other and involved in what sounded like a complicated discussion about newborns, he snuck outside, and wandered over the bridge, past the swings and onto the path by the water that led to the three more remote cottages.

  He walked out to the end of the first of three docks and, lying flat on the weathered planks in the sun, lowered his head over the edge. Two rowboats, tied to the side of the dock, squeaked against the wood. He gazed into the shadowed corners, where he knew the giant dock spiders lived, and was not disappointed.

  In the middle of its web, a thick-legged and fat-bodied creature, nearly the size of his hand, tensed, and peered back at him. It was beautiful and he watched it for a while, noticing several more of them as his eyes adjusted.

  Then he went along the path to the second dock, and finally the third, where he discovered minnows swimming close to shore. After that there were no more cottages but the trail continued on. As he wandered along it, the colour off the lake shimmered between the thick-trunked maples, the wispy birches, and a veil of branches.

  There were no more cottages, just a small cabin where the trail came to an end. He could see a small section of red trim around a window and some of the white-painted porch nudging through the trees as he climbed on top of a large, rotting trunk that had fallen across the trail.

  Huge, black ants scattered from beneath the bark, racing in all directions, some of them up his legs; he brushed them from his shoe and quickly jumped down, away from them, where he flicked several more from the back of his calf and knee. He wandered to the end of the path a little ways beyond the tree and peered into the dense forest. To the left was the glittery bay.

  Suddenly wanting to be invisible like the creatures around him, he crouched quietly in the grass inhaling the funky odours, listening to the gentle lapping of waves on the rocky shore, and watching closely. He felt like a wild animal keenly aware of its surroundings.

  Soon a swish emanated from the saplings and Travis gazed toward it. Then a crunching from the underbrush. Through the tangle of grass and branches, muted colour moved and a large bird waddled out into clear sight. It stood beneath the sun on the rocks by the water.

  He was certain it was a wild turkey. They had listened to gobbling from their cottage the other night. Eventually another one appeared clucking, and then several more. He wished he had his camera to capture the glossy, bronze wings and colourful growths on their necks for Kate.

  Slowly rising above the concealing grass to get a better view, his gaze darted in the other direction as someone had opened the creaky screen door to the last cottage. He heard them walking around inside it, pushing a heavy cardboard box across the floor, then opening a drawer and rattling the utensils.

  Maybe Rose wanted privacy. Travis crept over to the white-painted cabin, and as quiet as a mouse, he stepped up onto the tiny back porch and carefully stood on his toes to peer in through the screened window.

  A man with dark, shoulder-length hair was facing the other direction by the front door. It didn’t seem right. Why didn’t Kate tell him someone was coming to the resort? They probably didn’t know he was there and Travis knew that he must be hiding from them. He needed to warn them.

  Taking a step backward, a rickety plank creaked beneath his foot, the stranger turned, and their eyes met. Travis bolted down the steps and ran back to the trail, his running shoes snapping twigs and crushing pine-needles into the earth.

  Dashing over gnarly roots he sped up as he approached the ant-nested trunk and leaped over it, sprinting and weaving around some rocks. He finally passed the first dock his feet still moving fast, bouncing on the spongy earth as he left the last cottage behind him and approached the playground.

  He was wheezing badly. He had to sit down, his puffers were in the cottage. But he only stayed for a moment. Rushing past the supply and gift store, across the bridge by the hotel and then along the shore toward his dock, he heard something that pricked the hair on his neck and then he realized, it was Kate screaming.

  “Get away from me!”

  He rushed up to the cottage, then along the side of it, and peered around the corner where he saw Rose doing the same from the other side.

  “I just want to see my kid,” the dark-haired man from the cabin growled. He had left his car in the driveway, and was trying to get past Kate, who was using her body to barricade the steps.

  “You’re not going near that child,” she raged. “Not ever. Do you understand me!!!?”

  He paused for a minute, turning to glance at Rose, back again to Travis, and then past Kate to the cottage door. Finally he started towards her again. When he was a foot from the steps, Kate pounced on him, pushing against his chest so that he staggered backward.

  He peered at her with a look of surprise. “Look, I'm not going to hurt him. I have a right.”

  “You have no rights!” Kate was ferocious. Travis had never seen her in such a state. “There are no laws anymore Jack. But we are doing our best to survive, and that means with you out of the picture. You’re a threat to my child. And I’ll do anything to stop you, trust me,” she seethed.

  “I’ve been trying to get through to you Kate, but what am I supposed to do if you won’t listen? Give me a chance to explain. We could work it out. Come on.”

  “You're a fucking psychopath! When you got me pregnant it was all about you Jack. Just get the hell away from here.”

  “You were equally responsible for that. I told you I didn't want a kid. But you insisted. So I gave you what you wanted.”

  “Only so I would stay with you. So you could control me and abuse us, you sick fuck. As soon as Sarah came along the truth came out. Didn’t it? And I don't even want to think about what you did! What you are still capable of doing.”

  Kate backed towards the cottage and Jack followed, limping. Travis could see a nasty scar across his calf.

  “I warn you — if you don't stay back…”

  Jack had a twisted smirk on his face. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “You bastard. I—”

  Suddenly, an explosion assaulted Travis’ eardrums. A bullet had ripped through the dirt six inches from Jack's foot. Then he saw Sarah in the doorway behind Kate holding a pistol. She fired again and Travis crouched down with his hands over his ears.

  “Back off!” Sarah roared. “Or I won't miss next time.”

  Jack froze, with that odd smirk still on his face. He finally glanced at Rose and turned towards his car. Travis could see his scowl as he opened the door. “I won't be far,” he snarled.

  The tires screeched and he left them a wake of dirt. They all gazed after him as he sped down the road and turned left just after the exit.

  “He's not leaving,” Kate cried. “He's heading for the cabin.”

  Ben had begun to wail. Kate pushed past Sarah and disappeared into the cottage while Rose started towards them. “So that's the father,” she said to Sarah, her eyes as grave as Travis had ever seen them.

  Sarah turned her pistol’s barrel to the side and peered at it as if she was sniffing the gunpowder. “Yeah, that's him all right. Sorry if we scared you. We’ll give you the lowdown at dinner, but right now I — I've got to give Travis his puffers. Sweetie, you’re wheezing.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Laying Down the Law

  (May 1st, Year Two, PA)

  It was 3:00 am and Ben was crying again. Kate lit the oil lamp and went to his cradle. “It’s okay Ben, mommy’s here,” she whispered, picking him up and taking him back to bed for one of his nightly feedings. She propped up her pillow, lay back and let him latch on. Her eyes closed as he began to suckle.

  Though Jack had refused to leave the resort, his car zipped past them each morning, always returning later. But he hadn’t bothered them. She’d no idea what he was up to — but she kept her gun in the drawer ready for him this time. There was no way he was getting anywhere near her beautiful Ben, who had suddenl
y begun to cry at her breast, as he suckled harder.

  “What’s wrong precious? Here, let’s try the other side.” She shifted him over and gave him her nipple. He sucked for a few seconds and then began to whimper again. With a sick feeling creeping through her she realized that he wasn’t getting any milk. She was torturing her child and he was only a few weeks old.

  That formula they had stashed away at the back of the cupboard expired a few months ago. Even if it was still okay, supplementing him would only make the problem worse, her milk would dry up for certain. And stale formula would surely compromise his health.

  “Is he having problems sweetie,” Sarah whispered. She was standing at the door.

  “Sarah, I think my milk is drying up. What am I going to do?” Ben was wailing now. She got out of bed and carried him into the other room.

  “Look at you, your breasts are full Kate,” Sarah said. “You’re just worrying too much. You’ve got to get your mind off Jack. That’s the problem.”

  While Kate paced around the living room cradling Ben in different positions, hopelessly attempting to comfort him, Sarah disappeared into the kitchen. She came back with a glass of wine.

  “It’ll relax you,” she said.

  Kate was sceptical. Alcohol wasn’t something she wanted in Ben’s system. But he did need to eat and she was getting desperate. She took a sip and began to rock, gently bounce, pat his back, and sing. Sarah gave it a try but he only became more frantic.

  They changed his diaper as he shrieked and then whimpered and then wailed and now Travis was up, offering to help too.

  “Go back to bed, hon,” Kate said. “You need your sleep. We think he might be a little bit colicky, that’s all. It’s perfectly normal.”

  Kate walked with him, back and forth through the living room, lifting him upright and then laying him on his back. She put him on his tummy draped over her arm. While finishing her last swig of wine, just as she was about to sit down and try to nurse him again, his eyes closed. She carefully went back to his cradle and put him down. He murmured slightly and his pouty lips tried to suckle in his sleep for a second but then he was breathing softly.

  He slept for another three hours and by then her milk flowed properly. But Kate was anxious this was going to be an ongoing problem. She left a package of formula out on the counter.

  This was Jack’s fault for upsetting her and she sent him an angry message — though she knew he wasn’t capable of understanding much telepathically, it was pretty basic and she was certain he would get the gist of it. Anger wasn’t too hard to comprehend. But she soon regretted contacting him that way.

  He seemed encouraged. He wanted her to keep communicating so he could convince her to let him get close to Ben. That part of it wasn’t going to happen. He was a monster.

  But she had been reminded of her feelings for him. Seeing him again, knowing that he was in close proximity, and now, speaking to him telepathically, made her feel desperate for answers. She needed to know what made the father of her child tick.

  Lying in bed that afternoon, just as Ben had fallen back to sleep, she pushed Jack for an explanation. What had made him so evil, or was he just born that way? He didn’t have the capacity to tell her much of anything of course. But she wanted him to try. And as she waited for Jack to give her an explanation, she peered down at Ben weeping.

  ***

  Sarah pulled the bedroom door shut. Kate and the baby were finally napping. While Rose and Travis were out on the veranda enjoying the late afternoon view of the lake with a deck of cards, Sarah snuck around the back of the cottage and slipped behind the wheel of her car. She placed her pistol on the passenger seat. Enough was enough.

  Kate was doing a terrible job of hiding the pain she was in. Since Jack had arrived she barely slept a wink, except for when she was having nightmares. Sarah had heard her shouting out in the middle of the night; she was becoming too exhausted to handle a newborn. That evil man was becoming a threat to her and Ben’s survival; and Sarah was not going to allow it a minute longer.

  Jack stopped chopping his firewood and glared at her as she approached. She came to a halt in the driveway just a few feet from him and rolled down her window.

  “Do you really care about your son?” she snapped, checking to make sure the door was locked.

  “Well, why do you think I'm here, Sarah?” he retorted, still grasping the axe by the handle and swinging his arm back and forth.

  “Whatever,” she barked. “All you're doing is making Kate ill, and it's beginning to affect the baby.”

  He was dripping sweat and out of breath from his work. “Christ,” he said, “That’s why I need to talk to her.”

  “You need to get your ass out of here, and give my poor sister, and my nephew, a fighting chance.”

  “You know what Sarah?” he said in a deep voice, “The five of you are not going to make it without me. I’m a doctor for Christ’s sake.” He swung the axe into a log and split it in half.

  Sarah's fingers wrapped around the handle of her pistol. “I’m warning you Jack.”

  He gazed off into the woods. “You’re being really stupid about this Sarah. Kate’s glad I’m here, she just won’t admit it.”

  “You slimy maggot! Go back to the cesspit you came from.” She pointed the gun through the window at him. “She can barely bring herself to eat!”

  He looked up the sky, clenched his fists and growled. “That’s why I’m here.”

  “Don’t make me use this again Jack.”

  He glared at her with a look that made Sarah’s hair stand on end. She aimed the gun steady on him.

  He hurled his axe at a tree, where it ricocheted and fell into the shrubs. “Good luck to all of you,” he sneered, striding back to his cabin.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Nightmare Resort

  (June 29th, Year Two, PA)

  Kate glanced back at Travis, who was finishing his breakfast on the picnic table. It was awfully cold out for the end of June. She carried Ben into the cottage and lay him down on his diaper table. Two-and-a-half months old already, and his features had changed, his hair almost black, his eyes dark brown, like coffee. Like Jack’s.

  Sarah and Rose were down the road planting more vegetables; the garden was getting larger, the plants higher by the day, they’d told her. She could have taken Ben with her and helped; but she was feeling so strange. How could she ever forget that Jack was out there all alone — and what he was capable of doing?

  Someone like that can’t possibly change. That kind of sickness doesn’t get cured. The fact that she wanted to understand — even to find a reason to forgive him — made her frightened of who she was, deep down.

  What kind of a mother was she going to be? Since she’d allowed Jack into her head, everything felt so terribly wrong. She was afraid. The nightmares haunted her; the worst of which she’d had last night. Her hands trembled as she fastened Ben’s diaper.

  An evil presence had been watching her as she slept last night. From the woods, a beastly-looking animal glared at her, its eyes, fiery with malicious intent, searing through the shadows into her room. But, thrusting her fear back inside her, she had stretched her arm through the window towards it, her fingers reaching out. She could see the vicious face, the contorting snout at her appeasing hand, the dangerous teeth with sharp fangs revealed, as the lips curled away from them and snapped at her!

  Kate had jumped up in her bed, shaking inside and remained awake for at least an hour, terrified. Why had she ignored her own instincts? She had seen, clearly, that it was evil, and yet, despite the fear screaming out the truth to her soul, foolishly, she’d tried to change it.

  Ben was suckling in his sleep. She had allowed herself to be vulnerable, to trust something that she knew couldn’t be more untrustworthy. She wiped the sweat from her brow. But the beast didn’t represent Jack; that would have made perfect sense — yet it wasn’t him — she just knew that it wasn’t.

  Falling back asleep
, she was soon in another nightmare feeling eternally trapped in it, her body that of a child; smaller than Travis. And something too terrible for words was hiding in her closet disguised as a man. There was nowhere to run.

  Nobody to run to.

  No way to fight it off of her while it slithered, like cold decay, over her, holding her there helplessly forever, enjoying her fear more than anything, feeding on her vulnerability and tears.

  Kate pulled on Ben’s clothes and lifted him from the diaper table. “There you go sweetie. Nice and clean again.” She smiled at him. Travis was waiting for his lesson.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Cinnamon Buns

  (July 1st, Year Two, PA)

  Slipping the dishes into a plastic tub filled with the warm sudsy water Rose had prepared, Travis inhaled the aromas wafting from the pans of bread and cinnamon rolls she’d set on the counter to cool. She had let him knead his own loaf earlier.

  After rinsing, drying, and returning the dishes to the kitchen cupboards, he peered over at her. “Can we go swimming now?”

  “Well, let's just walk down and see. It’s been freezing all week. Imagine, weather so cold at this time of year.”

  “But it’s hot today,” Travis insisted.

  “I know, but the water is still like ice,” Rose contended cheerfully.

  “No it isn’t.”

  Stepping around the rock garden, they descended the steps to the sandy beach beside the dock. “Ooh, it is cold. I told you so,” Rose said as the water slurped over her toes.

  “I can handle it,” Travis said.

  “Well okay. I'll sit while you get your suit and a towel. Will you bring my book from the porch? And don't forget the suntan lotion my dear.”

  Travis was up the hill already. “Okay,” he yelled back to Rose, and then he went inside. Kate appeared to be dozing with the baby. He crept around her carefully, went to his bedroom and changed, grabbed his towel, the suntan lotion, and attempted once again to pass without disturbing her.