We Came Back

by Patrick Lacey

  She picked him up as if he was light as linen and tossed him across the hall. The crowd parted, several students jumping out of the way just in time, and he collided with a row of lockers, dents forming in the metal. A small puddle of blood seeped beneath him. There were scratches along his cheek and forehead and his lip had busted open. He whispered for the girl to go fuck herself.

  In response, she giggled and waved for the vamps to follow her.

  From down the hall, came another shouting voice, though this wasn’t from a student. Principal Fisher jogged their way, his massive belly swaying and rippling. “Son of a bitch!” he said. Frank and Rick, and every normal student in the hall, opened their mouths in shock. Fisher was reserved. Even in times of crisis he never showed his anger. He’d led the school through dozens of fights, car accidents, bomb threats, and even a chemical leak. But now he looked ready to crush someone’s skull. “This has got to stop!” He kneeled down and asked Evan if he was okay. The boy responded by flipping the principal off, remaining tough even in humility. “Someone call an ambulance.”

  From behind Frank came a weak murmur of a voice. “I’m on it,” Murray said.

  “Why the hell didn’t you stop this?” Fisher said. He was badly out of breath, looked ready to topple over at any moment.

  Frank opened his mouth to respond but no words came out. He didn’t have an answer. Truthfully, he should’ve stopped the fight the moment he saw it happening but something had stopped him, something he didn’t want to admit aloud, though every other member of the school’s faculty would’ve agreed with him.

  Fear.

  He was scared as hell of those vamps and it was no longer possible to pretend otherwise.

  “We tried,” Rick said. “But that girl had her friends with her, a half dozen of those freaks. They looked ready to tear our heads off.”

  “Did you say girl?” Fisher pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiped his face, then swore as it slipped from his fingers and landed in Evan’s blood.

  Rick nodded. “It’s 2017, Fisher. Girls can fight too. Though I don’t know how she did it. She’s not one of mine but I’ve seen her around. Can’t weigh more than ninety pounds at the most.”

  “Mr. McNeil, are you telling me a girl under one hundred pounds did this?” He pointed to Evan, who squirmed and groaned in pain.

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you. She picked that boy up and tossed him without breaking a sweat.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  Frank spoke up. “It’s the truth. I’ll vouch for him and you’ve got about fifty students and teachers that’ll do the same.”

  “How is that possible?” Fisher sighed. “Look, this has gone too far. I’d hoped we could stand by and let this thing run its course but I see now that was a mistake on my part. I’m issuing an immediate early release for the day. On Monday, I’ll have cops monitoring the halls and I’m bringing in several psychiatrists.”

  “And what exactly is this kind of situation?” Frank said. He’d never so much as raised his voice to Fisher but this wasn’t exactly a normal day.

  “Yeah,” Rick said. “I’d love to know if those trained professionals have ever dealt with a teenage cult who just might have superpowers. As for the cops, make sure you bring the whole force and then some. If you haven’t noticed, we’re outnumbered.”

  “Come on,” Frank said to Rick. “Let’s spread the word about the half day.”

  Rick nodded. “Just a second.” He turned to Fisher. In the distance, sirens began to sound, the ambulance approaching the school. “One more thing,” he said.

  “What is it now?” Fisher said.

  “Might not be the best time but I wanted to give you this.” He handed the folded piece of paper to the Principal.

  “What is it?”

  “My resignation,” Rick said.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  That night, from his spot at the window, Justin made sure the neighboring driveway was clear. There had been no sign of Busty, which seemed odd on a Friday night. He made sure Alyssa’s curtain was closed in her room before he sped down the hall and stepped outside.

  Frank was in the garage fiddling with something. He had an old Harley that he liked to toy with once in a while. Justin had never seen the man ride the thing, wasn’t even sure it ever ran to begin with, but he wasn’t here to talk bikes tonight.

  There were other pressing issues.

  He snuck out of his yard and into the Tanners’ driveway. In the garage, there was a small radio above a workbench. It blared a Led Zeppelin song he was almost certain had already played a half hour ago. Frank knelt in front of the bike. An assortment of tools lay on the floor before him, wrenches and hammers and other things Justin didn’t quite recognize. Bruce Wright had been the handyman of the family and he hadn’t gotten around to passing on the tradition. Justin wondered for a moment how he’d learn to fix things but brushed the thought aside. Now wasn’t the time to feel sorry for himself.

  He cleared his throat at the garage door, hoping Frank would hear, but the music was too loud and the man was too enthralled with his work. He dug through a small tin box, probably looking for the right gadget.

  Justin stepped closer. “Hey, Frank?”

  Nothing. Frank went about his business. Justin smelled smoke and noted the rising mist of a cigarette that hung from Franks’ lips. He’d seen the man smoking on his porch here and there, tossing the butt into the bushes whenever Mona came outside. Justin had a feeling Frank’s habit was a secret.

  Justin stepped into the garage and tapped him on the shoulder. Frank dropped something from his hands, spun around, and dove onto Justin, pushing him onto the ground. He looked feral, his eyes bloodshot and his teeth gritted. He wound back as if to strike Justin but stopped at the last moment. He breathed heavily and let Justin go, holding a hand to his chest. “Jesus, kid, you scared the shit out of me. I thought you were one of those assholes.”

  Frank helped him up and Justin held his hands out. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “You thinking about joining up with them?” He laughed but both of them knew there was nothing funny about it.

  “That’ll be the day. No, I just wanted to…” To what? To tell him about the voice he heard at the graveyard earlier that day? Tell him he was almost certain it belonged to a dead kid and this particular dead kid may or may not have been behind all this madness? It sounded insane in his mind let alone spoken aloud.

  “Come on, I don’t have all night.” The cigarette hung loosely from his mouth, streams of smoke coming out of his nose every so often.

  Justin shrugged. “I don’t know. I just… I think something bad is going to happen. With the vamps I mean. I think we’re both part of it now, whether we like it or not. Especially you, considering you were there the day that Melvin…”

  “And you think he’s connected to all this.” It wasn’t a question.

  Justin nodded. “I thought it was far-fetched at first but let’s just say I’m convinced now.” Convinced because he fucking told you himself today. He shivered, wondering if the voice would come back at any moment, invading his ears and mind.

  “I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Frank said. “I didn’t see you at school today but it was a madhouse.”

  Justin nodded. “I took the day off but Art filled me in on everything.”

  “That kid’s a prick by the way. Tell him he ought to pay attention once in a while.”

  “I’ll relay the message.”

  They were silent for a long moment. Even when he’d been dating Alyssa, Justin had never had this long of a conversation with Frank. Her father had come off as brute and imposing but that was to be expected when you were dating his only daughter. His only child.

  Speaking of which, Justin thought as he looked at the box on the ground. He’d been mistaken in thinking it was a toolbox. Instead of wrenches, it held photos. Hundreds of photos of a little boy with brown hair that hung so
low it obscured his eyes and freckles so plentiful they looked more like chicken pox.

  Frank caught him looking and kicked the box away with the back of his foot.

  “I’m sorry,” Justin said. “I didn’t mean to intrude. Look, I know you’ve been through a lot. More than anyone should ever have to go through. I also know you’re not my biggest fan.” He touched his jaw as a reflex. “I’m not dumb. I know you were bluffing when you said you’d let me try to win Alyssa back. She’s your daughter and you don’t want anyone to get too close. That’s the way it supposed to go. To be honest, I doubt she’ll ever take me back anyway. I came here tonight to ask that you make sure she stays close by this weekend. They’re building up to something and I think it’ll happen at any time now. Call me crazy if you want.”

  Frank took a deep drag on his cigarette. He blew a long cloud of smoke into the air and tossed the butt into a coffee can he kept hidden beneath his workbench. “I was wrong to pop you that night but you’re right about one thing. She’s my daughter and if anyone does her wrong, I’ll snap their neck on the spot. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  Justin nodded, believing every word the man said. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He held a photo of Jeremy in his hand. Justin hadn’t noticed it at first. “And if, by some miracle, you ever end up getting friendly with my daughter again, I’d appreciate it if this stayed between us.” He set the photo back into the box and closed the top. The box looked old and rusty but the hinges didn’t groan one bit, as if they were opened often.

  “You got it,” Justin said.

  Frank held out his hand and they shook, the grip a little strong for Justin’s taste. “Let’s hope whatever’s going to happen isn’t catastrophic,” Frank said. “Maybe they’re just planning to throw some eggs or toilet paper at a house or two.”

  Justin cocked his head in confusion.

  “Kid, you need to get your shit together. Have you looked at a calendar recently?”

  Justin did the math and felt like a fool. He’d been so wrapped up in everything, he hadn’t even realized what the date was.

  October 30th. Which meant tomorrow was Halloween. It seemed too convenient and he was certain that whatever was going to happen would take place tomorrow night. Didn’t they say that was when the border between the living and the dead was at its thinnest? How apt.

  Frank wished him a good night and Justin made his way back to his yard. He hesitated at the door, looking into the night, his teeth chattering in the breeze. He didn’t see any huddled shapes but that did nothing for his nerves.

  ●●●

  From the outside, the old Lynnwood High School looked the same as it had the past decade. Its walls were crumbling, the brick lined with countless graffiti portraits. The surrounding brush was overgrown to the point of no return, the branches holding onto the exterior like long tendrils. The windows were caked with dirt, blacker than the night, and even the closest street lamp didn’t seem to reflect off the panes. The path leading up to the school lay empty, devoid of all life. Not even a raccoon or a stray dog walked its soil.

  The night had been clear earlier, not a cloud in the starry sky, but as the hours passed a thick fog began to roll in from the harbor, obscuring the scenery so that details became less defined. Shadows grew larger and more deformed. If anyone had dared to walk past the school, they would’ve seen things in the mist, which the forecast claimed would not clear until Sunday morning. They would have spotted shapes and shadows that were unaccounted for.

  And if they had any sense at all, they would’ve turned around and ran back the way they’d come, not stopping until the school was far behind them.

  ●●●

  Vickie Bronson was so taken back by the gathering that she nearly cried. She knew it would be a bad move on her part. She wasn’t supposed to show such emotions let alone feel them, but this was her new family and she’d never known such closeness. Certainly not back home, where she’d been the lesser of two children. She thought again of her last encounter with her family, of the four holes in her sister’s arm.

  Good, she thought. I hope it left a nasty scar. I hope it got infected and she lost her arm.

  Her father had tried calling her dozens of times since that night but she’d ignored him. Her mother hadn’t reached out once. But none of that mattered tonight. What mattered were the hundred or so boys and girls that surrounded her in the tunnel.

  Their black uniforms blended with the shadows. The generator hummed softly, taken from Sylvie Platt’s house. They’d brought down lights from supply closets above and several halogen lamps they’d stolen from the local hardware store, but it still didn’t offer much illumination.

  That didn’t matter, though. They knew their way around the tunnel with their eyes closed. Not to mention they’d grown used to the dark.

  She’d heard rumors that the tunnel led far beneath the city, that if you traveled for long enough, you’d wind up at the Memorial Cemetery halfway across town. She’d thought it was bullshit at the time, but now she suspected it was the truth.

  Otherwise, how would Melvin have gotten from his grave to the school?

  All around her, the others whispered, their voices filled with excitement. She wished Tom could’ve been here but they’d be reunited soon enough. Busty, who stepped through the sea of children toward the front of the assembly, had promised her.

  With two fingers in his mouth, he whistled. The sound echoed off the walls, seemed to last an eternity before it finally died out. “Can I have everyone’s attention?”

  The crowd grew silent.

  He began to pace back and forth. There was an air about him that demanded respect. He looked like a teacher up there, getting ready to give the most important pep talk of his career. “I’m sure all of you are aware of the date tomorrow.”

  They nodded in agreement.

  “We’ve been making waves out there. It’s been good so far but we need to move to the next step in this process.”

  Carlos Montel raised his hand from near the back. “And what is the next step?”

  Busty smiled. “I’m glad you asked. We’re the ones teaching lessons now. Tomorrow night, when the sun goes down, we’ll teach this entire town a lesson.”

  There was a cheer from the audience.

  “Before we get ahead of ourselves, we should get some rest. Tomorrow will be tiring. I’d like you all to refrain from eating. We’ll be getting our fill if you catch my meaning.”

  “We catch it,” Vickie said, winking.

  Busty nodded. “Great. Now I’d like to introduce our fearless leader,” he said, pointing behind him as if he were a talk show host. “Would anyone like to have the honor?”

  Every member of the crowd raised their hands. He studied the faces before him before finally settling on one lucky volunteer. He pointed at Vickie.

  She looked around, assuring herself she wasn’t seeing things, and then stepped forward. Her heart beat quickly with excitement. Honor was an understatement. Though it sounded corny, this was the happiest moment of her life. After eighteen years, she had finally been accepted.

  She walked toward the door around the bend in the hall and turned the knob, struggling for a moment before it slid all the way open. More dust scattered through the tunnel. No one coughed or seemed bothered. Being initiated had changed all of them in some deep and primal way. Vickie hadn’t noticed physical pain since the night she’d first joined her new family. Other sensations, though, were heightened beyond belief.

  The thrill she got from killing and cumming, sometimes in that very order, was beyond description. And there would be plenty of both in the days ahead.

  She backed away from the open door, peering into the darkness of the access tunnel. She saw a shape up ahead, moving closer. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes on. She’d seen it countless times these last few weeks but it never failed to send shivers up her spine. It was like being in the presence of a god.r />
  From the dark doorway, Melvin Brown slithered into the outer tunnel and addressed the crowd. His voice did not come from any of his mouths. It was from some other place, perhaps some internal organ that only he possessed. He spoke within their minds as if his voice was in their ears. It was harsh and raspy and entirely inhuman.

  Melvin told them everything they needed to know about the next step. It was simple really. The most difficult part was accepting that they couldn’t teach everyone in Lynnwood a lesson.

  Though they could certainly try.

  ●●●

  In the darkness something prepared.

  It taught its disciples—its children—the power they all had within them. They needed only to harness it, to grasp that hidden section of their minds and pull it into reality.

  It whispered its secrets within their minds and soon it heard the transformation, organs shifting, bones breaking and reforming, skin bulging and tearing in response.

  They moaned with pleasure and pain as they entered the next phase of their evolution.

  Within minutes, they were no longer human. They were changed, neither alive nor dead but something in between. The children had once been popular and smart. Now they were outcasts, filth to be looked down upon by outsiders. But here, within this tunnel, they were royalty. Each and every specimen was a king and a queen.

  When the transformation was complete, the children looked at each other, beheld their new bodies. They grinned, their teeth too long and jagged to be contained within their smiling mouths. They examined their nails, which now came to points like talons.

  There were shouts of joy and hunger, their new voices just as distorted as the thing when it spoke within their minds.

  There was no shred of doubt now. They were ready.