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Tethered

Page 14

by Vaughn Ashby


  No sign of Jenny, he kind of expected her to make a reappearance at some point. Maybe there would be a side tunnel of her where he’d find all of them sleeping down here or something, but nothing that exciting yet, just wet mud. It was pretty dark, why couldn’t she or others like her be down here all the time? Was it the sun they were hiding from?

  In the distance he could hear something, it sounded like an engine, no it was the generator. No lights on in the basement, so he wasn’t sure how far he had to go. The sound got louder, and louder. He figured he was at least to the edge of the house, not much more to go.

  Then the cave dropped, he tumbled downwards. Only a few feet, but his phone fell from his hand. The generator sounded really loud now. Jason scrambled to find his phone. For the longest time, he felt nothing but branches and more mud. Finally, he spotted it just ahead. He slowly made his way to it, and reached through the branches to grab it. His face grounded into the dirt, and mud as he stretched for it. It was further down then he’d been able to tell. Finally, his fingers wrapped around it and he slowly pulled it up. As he did, the phone light showed just where Jason had landed. There were no branches, only bodies, lots and lots of dead bodies. All in different stages of decay.

  He’d been a cop for a long time, and he’d seen a lot of shit as he liked to tell his friends, but this was fucked up even for him. He held back his gag reflex for a different reason this time, well mostly a different reason.

  Quickly, he turned the brightness back up to try and find a way out or away from this. He could see the light on the roof of the basement and the dirt sides of the hole, he’d fallen into one of the pits he’d so carefully avoided on his last venture down into the basement. Not as deep as he thought. He checked his phone battery, 13%.

  Jason made his way to the edge of the pit and got to his feet. His ankle was killing him, but now wasn’t the time to bitch about crap like that, time to man up. He tried to climb the side of the hole, but the ground just gave away, he tried again, and again fell.

  Just as he was about to try again a hand reached down out of the darkness. He looked up to see Jessica smiling up at him.

  “Sorry, I lost you for a while there,” she was smiling down at him. “Grab my hand, and let’s talk about just what we are doing here.”

  Jason grabbed Jessica’s hand and she pulled him up, rather easily. He lay there at the top of the pit for a second, his ankle was throbbing, he needed to ice it, but he doubted the house had any. Well, maybe some weird haunted ice.

  Jessica leaned over him, she was naked for some reason, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her amazing breasts.

  “Up here big boy,” she said playfully tapping his cheek. “You ok?”

  He didn’t know if he was, he ran through a mental checklist as if he was an astronaut going threw his pre-launch routine. Other then his ankle he was actually fine. “Yep I think so, where did you go?”

  “Long story, I promise I’ll tell you everything. First, we have to get started.”

  “Started, what exactly have we been doing so far?”

  Jessica jabbed a hunting knife into Jason’s chest. He looked at it confused, then restarted his checklist.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  2014 Smith: Awesome, you get to be a

  Pratt and Shane followed the naked man with the large gun across a picnic area, where to say they got a few strange looks would be an understatement. Pratt with his black goo, and well the naked man with the gun.

  “What the fuck just happened back there?” Shane asked, still trying to process the fact that Travers just had his face blown off.

  “What those two peckers?” the naked man asked.

  “Well, kind of the whole thing, you know with you killing them and all.”

  “Yeah, that was awesome,” Pratt said as he tried to clean some of the goo from his face.

  The naked man turned and put his hand out, Pratt shook it. “It totally was, wasn’t it, I’m Smith by the way, and you are Pratt, right?” Pratt nodded. “And this must be Shane.” He moved his hand to Shane who just ignored it, instead gave the man a disgusted look.

  “How the fuck do you know that?” Shane asked.

  Smith turned and kept walking. “You know exactly how I know that.”

  “Don’t be a dick, I hate when people do that. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have asked. So how the fuck did…”

  “…My book, I sent it to you.”

  “The book is yours?” Shane said trying to keep up with Smith who had increased his speed across the picnic area. They were almost to the trees on the other side

  “I love that book, very helpful,” Pratt said, giving Shane a thumbs up.

  “That book of yours is a piece of shit, it’s wrong more than its right.”

  Smith stopped, a confused look on his face, “Wrong? Hmm, interesting. It’s never been wrong for me. Whatever.” He continued on towards the tree line. Without slowing, he moved from grass to bush, and navigated greens with ease. Pratt and Shane, on the other hand, fell behind but managed to keep him in sight. After only a short while they came to a clearing. There sitting pristine was a Ford Taurus.

  “Nice ride,” Pratt said excited, “my parents had one forever ago.”

  “Thanks man, I’ve come to like it, wasn’t my first choice,” Smith said as he popped the trunk.

  Shane panting from the brisk walk, and jungle excursion took a knee, then threw up. The image of Travers’s missing face burned into his brain. It fit nicely alongside the image of Kristen missing her face, he threw up again. In the span of only a few hours, he’d lost his wife, and a great friend to whatever the fuck those two cops were. He vomited a third time, though not much came up.

  “You ok man?” Smith asked, not looking up from putting his gun away in the trunk. “There are some Tylenol in the glove box, they are a little old, but I’m sure they still work.”

  Shane wiped with mouth with his sleeve, and got to his feet, “I’ll be fine,” he wouldn’t be, but it’s what you say. Neither Pratt nor Smith believed him.

  “Here,” Smith tossed him a water bottle.

  “Thanks,” Shane twisted the cap and took a drink. He felt calmer already. Had he really almost let that goo monster kill him? Yes, he had, and he’d probably do it again in a second right now. It was hard enough to not think about Kristen, now he had to not think about Travers too. “So that goo monster thing we found, did you…”

  “That was me, sorry about that,” Smith said as he closed the trunk. “And sorry for almost eating you,” he nodded to Pratt. “But good idea with the not moving thing, it totally threw me off.”

  “Nice,” Pratt put up his hand for a high five, Smith completed it.

  “You were the monster?” Shane said finishing the water, he tossed the bottle back to Smith who threw it into the trees. “Long story, don’t worry that’s not actually littering. And yes I was the goo thing, it’s kind of how I start my day.”

  “Awesome, you get to be a monster.”

  “Yep, everyday I get to be that thing for a while. Normally I just sit in that cave waiting to change into this,” Smith gestured at his very naked body and for the first time noticed he had nothing on. He opened the passenger door, and grabbed some clothes. “I’d have stayed in there if it wasn’t for you meddling kids,” Smith laughed. “But really I would have stayed there, and changed in the cave, then I’d make my way over here to my car. This used to happen at night, but over time it’s slowly drifted a little. Now it happens well… now.” He jumped as he pulled his pants up the last inch.

  “So you are the one from those stories in the book? With that Moe guy? The trailer hitch story?” Shane asked.

  “Yep, that’s me.”

  “So he killed you?”

  “Yep he did, well to be fair I’ve been killed a lot. But every day I just come back.”

  “Why?” Shane was curious now. Before he only half believed the Moe Story had even happened, now he knew it happened and he wanted the
details, he needed them. The guy who did all that research and field work for the website was coming back around inside him.

  “The short of it is none of your business, the long of it is I don’t know.” Smith smiled at him.

  Shane could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. At first, he ignored it, probably just the cops with questions, or maybe it was Kristen’s parents wondering what happened to their daughter. He couldn’t deal with any of them now. The phone stopped and he instantly felt bad for not answering it, what if it was her parents, he really should talk with them. It vibrated again and he pulled it from his pocket, the call display said, Bill. He slid the phone to unlock and brought it to his ear.

  “Bill, this isn’t a good time.”

  The voice on the other end of the phone sounded reluctant with every word, “I know, I just saw it on the news. I’m sorry Shane.”

  “What do you mean you can’t tell us, man, I thought we were becoming buds,” Pratt was still on the previous conversation.

  “I like you Pratt but we’ll never truly be buds,” Smith replied.

  “Why?”

  “Because he can’t leave today Pratt,” Shane answered for Smith.

  “You found Smith,” Bill’s sudden excitement made Shane unsure if his previous remorse was actually real, or fake remorse.

  “Yes Bill we found Smith, this really isn’t a good time.”

  “Well, that’s not exactly the truth Shane,” Smith was getting everyone back on topic. “I do leave today, I just reset every day. Every day I start as that goo monster thing, then I turn into this body, I get my car and move along.”

  “Ask him if his memory is wiped every day?” Bill asked on the phone.

  Shane relayed the question.

  “For a long time it was, then something happened with a man who used to own the trailer hitch shop in town. At first, I could only remember him, then things related to him like his little girl. Now, as long as I can link something to him I can remember it.”

  “What happened with the trailer hitch guy?” Pratt asked.

  “Moe?” Shane asked.

  “Yes, it’s Moe, didn’t you read the stuff I sent you?” Bill sounded annoyed, he was really covering the spectrum of emotions during this call.

  “Yes, his name was Moe, and I never got to ask him just what happened that first time.” Now leaning on the hood of the car Smith paused, to Shane it looked like he was actively working through files in his head searching for the right one. “Something terrible happened to him, and its kind of my fault.”

  “Perk up buddy, it can’t really be all your fault,” Pratt tapped him on the back.

  “It is.”

  “Oh well,” Pratt shrugged.

  “My book, the one I sent you, told me your brother,” he pointed at Pratt. “And your best friend,” he pointed at Shane. “Was on track to have the same thing happen to him. I’m not sure how it’s related to Moe. My hope was to get you out here to find your friend, then hopefully after you found him, I could get answers about my friend Moe.”

  “Wait,” Shane was slowly processing what Smith had just told him. The hand holding the phone dropped to his side, he ended the call to Bill. “So you got us out here? You're the reason Kristen came with us? You are the reason Travers came after his friend? You are the reason they are dead?”

  Without hesitation, Smith answered, “No you came for your friend, he’d be out here no matter what I did. I only provided a way to help.”

  “Yes, but if you hadn’t they wouldn’t have died.”

  “Well, the book never mentioned anyone dying, so I didn’t see any issues.”

  “Oh well if the book said so,” Shane could feel tears running down his cheek, when had he started crying? “The book has been wrong before, why wouldn’t it be wrong about this? You brought us into this, knowing there were people like those two cops.” He air quoted the word cops for effect. “Out here, dangerous people trying to find you.”

  “The book was never wrong until it was wrong for you. It’s always been right for me.”

  “So maybe it’s us, and not the book,” Pratt added, he’d been waiting for a time to jump in and claim the waters. Shane was getting worked up, and even if he had a right to be he was no use to them all crazy and shit.

  “Fine, forget the book. We don’t know where Jason is, do you?” Shane said wiping his face again. He was never one to hide when he cried, it was something his father had taught him.

  Smith looked at him, almost embarrassed, “No, I don’t know, I was hoping you would be able to lead me to him.”

  “Fucking great! What the fuck, I mean really what the fuck? My wife and buddy are dead, and you don’t fucking know where the fuck we should be fucking looking. Fuck! It’s not like we can just call him and ask.” Shane said a little angry.

  Smith, with no good response, said nothing. The book had never told him how they found their friend or if they did at all.

  “Hold the shit, we should fucking call him,” Pratt’s excitement built with each word.

  “We tried that, a lot, remember, you were there Pratt,” Shane said already dismissing the idea.

  “No I mean, lets fucking track his phone.”

  “How are we supposed to do that?”

  “Trust me.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  1982 Moe: A Single Light Bubble

  As a father, protecting your kids is priority number one. You see, I kind of have a low tolerance for it, it's sort of what dragged me into this whole situation. As I watched Joshy run for the cabin with my little girl in his arms, her screaming the whole time, well I’m pretty certain there was a large part of my brain that just shut off, and let the other half do what it’s there to do.

  I jumped to my feet and took off after them. The grass whipped my legs as I ran. Normally I’m more of a walker or speed walker, but today was the first time in years that I’d flat out ran, I was slower then I remember but the adrenaline pumping through me kept me going.

  Before he even reached the cabin the door, it swung open. He jumped through the frame and it slammed behind him. Without hesitation or any hint of self-preservation, I threw my body, full momentum and all, at the door. It exploded inwards and I rode the door itself into the house. Both it and I landed hard, me on top of it.

  I scanned the room, didn’t see Nicole anywhere. I could feel my heart beating; I could feel where the woman had touched it. Losing sight of your kid at the park for a second can send your heart into an inordinate rhythm, losing your daughter because some guy you watched die carring her into a weird house with a crazy heart touching woman in, well that can make your heart explode.

  Finally, I heard Nicole call, she was further then I expected her to be, the sound was muffled, the basement. I got to my feet and turned to the stairs when I felt something on my shoulder. I turned to look, sure enough, it was the damn woman, she was back. Her hand slowly moved towards my chest, her eyes looked tired, and her long red hair was in badly need of a brushing. But I didn’t have time for any of that. Like I said, half my brain was turned off, I was in get my daughter back mode. So I did what any father would do, I hit her right in the fucking face, multiple times. I’m not really sure if it did any physical harm, but she looked surprised and I took off down the steps.

  The basement lights were much dimmer than the light outside and as I moved down I could barely see anything. I was worried there were traps, but I didn’t care about me, I cared about her.

  Finally, my eyes adjusted, the room had only a single light bulb hanging in the center of the it. I could see Nicole standing next to some machine on the other side. Next to her was a man sitting on a toilet. The man looked to be about a hundred years old and if he wasn’t already dead, he could be soon.

  The longer I looked at the man the more I recognized him, it was Smith. He had a cable running from his chest to the machine.

  Nicole held out her arms, and yelled “Daddy!” I ran to her. I carefully avoided the two p
its on either side of the room. I didn’t even bother glancing inside, I didn’t care what was down there, I needed Nicole back in my arms. Now I know what is down there, creepy and glad I didn’t know then.

  I scooped her up in my arms and hugged her tight. I asked her where Joshy went, she said I was the one who’d brought her down here. I hadn’t, I know I hadn’t, I’d chased him down here. She was crying and asked why I’d bring her somewhere so scary.

  I turned to get us out of here, two steps away from the machine and I could feel a hand on my hip. The man on the toilet hadn’t been dead after all. He looked up at me, his eyes glazed over, he said something I didn’t hear, then from what I could tell he died. Honestly, I didn’t care, you see I’d messed up so much earlier than now, and let Nicole come with me that I just so badly wanted to get her home.

  Then I felt it again, the woman’s hand on my shoulder, I turned to look, only I couldn’t and she kissed me again. This time I had Nicole in my arms and I couldn’t get away. She pulled me tight to her, I struggled to pull away but couldn’t, she was stronger, her fingers hurt my arms.

  She slid her hands around my neck, I don’t know why but I stopped struggling, and I actually started kissing her back. I dropped Nicole and could hear her crying but I didn’t care, why didn’t I care?

  The woman with the red hair ripped my shirt open. I turned, and kicked the now old dead guy off the shitter and sat myself down. She pulled the bloody cable from the man’s chest, the one that ran to the generator. The end was rusty, sharp, and covered in blood. The man fell to the floor, against popular opinion that may have actual been his point of death. The cable had been his lifeline, keeping both him, and the generator alive.

  She kissed me again and I pulled her close. Her hands in my hair, my hands on her chest. She sat back and licked the end of the cable, smiled at me, then drove it into my chest.

 

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