by Vaughn Ashby
So now what? She could never have a normal life. How could she known if anyone really cared for her? What was she supposed to do? Then she thought of Moe and the little girl Nicole, and started coming up with a plan, she had to fix them.
CHAPTER FIFTY
1931 Anna: Into Darkness
It took over a month for her first visitors, but Anna hardly noticed. Since the moment of the procedure, she'd been the same. In fact, she'd hardly moved. She was no longer the girl she was before. Sure she wouldn't be exposing herself or prone to public masturbation, but she wasn't her. She wasn't really anyone. She'd lay in her bed staring at the wall. No more crying, no more Anna.
Her father would spend so much of this day taking care of her that he'd often neglect himself, and the farm in the process. He'd dropped a considerable amount of weight and the farm suffered from lack of care. The guilt he felt was beyond anything he'd ever thought possible. He was just as mad at the doctor as he was at himself. He had fantasies about finding the doctor one day, and bringing that ice pick to rest inside his brain, then he'd turn it on himself.
The first visitors were their neighbors, or whatever you call someone who lives 2 miles away but nobody lives between you. They'd stopped by because they hadn't seen Gord out in the fields, and they wanted to make sure he was ok. They were shocked to find Anna the way she was, and pledged to help him.
Soon after them, more people from around the area came by to help. While Gord understood it, he hated it and felt terribly bad about it. He just wanted his little girl back the way she was. But he knew that would never happen.
Anna spent her days in bed, the very bed where she'd been transformed into her present condition. Not that she had a choice on the matter. She also ate, and shit in that bed too. Her body was wasting away to nothing around her. Despite all of them, Anna was screaming and living in a hell trapped in her own brain. She watched as an observer as her father took care of her. She watched him cry all the time and the sorrow he had in him. She never once was mad at him. She knew he only wanted the best for her. She was mad at the doctor who did this, she was mad at the people who drove this to happen to her. Now those people were here coming and going. Helping her father take care of her. She wanted to kill all of them. She wanted them all to suffer an eternity trapped like her, helpless.
Eventually, Anna retreated even from her own mind and buried herself deep into darkness. She spent hours just thinking of what she would do to them. Maybe she'd do nothing at all, just make them sit in their own shit and waste away, like her.
Eventually, people from the town stopped coming by as often. They'd moved on to helping the next family in need. Occasionally, on Sundays, a church would come by with food or blankets and leave feeling better about themselves. Anna hated them even more. She'd imagine them sitting around each week and talking about who they should help. Eventually, them settling on her and her father.
Normally only a handful of people would come even if it was a church decision. But on the day Anna finally reached out most of an entire Congress had come. They were moving house to house singing Christmas carols, Anna could hear them coming for miles away. Her anger rose higher with each note sung.
They parked themselves out the door, and did their rendition of some Christmas carol. Gord watched from the door, now mostly stick and bones. Anna, still in bed yelled and screamed in rage as she tried and tried. Then it happened, she reached out. The carolers turned to leave, and marched down the drive still singing. They crossed out of the yard, then marched right back in on the other side. Confused, they turned back and were back where they were again.
In her bed, Anna smiled.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
2014-B Shane: He Made Out With His Cousin
The fuel gauge on the van ticked down to a quarter full, the damn thing guzzled fuel like crazy. Yet again another reason to grab a better car. The road leading out to Thunder Lake wasn’t difficult for most vehicles, but the van struggled with every minor hill. Shane had only an hour to get out to the lake, do his business, and get back to the hotel. Where he’d, well, he wasn’t totally sure yet, but he’d do something and save Kristen’s life.
Oh, Kristen, he couldn’t believe he’d actually just left her again knowing what was going to happen. But, he had more than her to think about.
Shane parked the van at the entrance to the lake campground, the gate was closed for the night. He hopped out, and opened it. A simple chain looped around the gate and a fence post held it shut, no lock to speak of. Shane swung it open then returned to the van. He dropped it into gear and followed the same path he’d taken with Travers and Pratt a few hours ago, well technically a few hours from now.
Only this time he ignored the location they found the tar monster, and went for Smith’s car. He wasn’t sure if it would be there. They’d never asked Smith what time his car magically appears at. His reappearance had drifted, but he didn’t know if the cars had too. He tried to peek through the trees to see the Ford Taurus. Sure enough, it was there.
He pulled the van up alongside it and hopped out. It looked like a crappy 80s car, but a well-taken care of crappy 80s car. Shane pulled a piece of paper from the van’s glove box and placed it on the car's window. The note detailed what had happened, where he was going, and what he was planning on doing and that he needed his help. Shane placed it under the windshield wiper and returned to the van. He grasped the handle and looked over at the car. Sure the van was about a decade or two newer, but there was no chance the Taurus ran as shitty. He’d kick himself if he didn’t check. He walked to the Taurus’ driver side and looked in the window. There were the keys sitting right there, already in the ignition. Shane smiled. He ran back to the van, took the stuff he wanted out, and placed it in the back seat of the car. Then he took the note from the car window, and placed in on the van’s. First, he added an extra word to it. Sorry. He underlined it multiple times.
The drive back to town was much faster. Shane pushed the Taurus hard and it responded perfectly. Whoever Smith’s mechanic was, he did great work.
The town was still dark, not many vehicles around town. Shane slowed his speed so he wouldn't be caught by any real cops as he headed to the hotel. His plan was to get into the room with Kristen, and wait for the not cops to show up. He’d be on the other side of the door just waiting for them with a number of firearms he’d taken from Jason’s house.
The parking lot for the Inn was mostly empty, filled with dark vehicles chilled by the cool night air. They all looked like they were painted grey, except one. One police cruiser sat parked out front, with the interior light on. Shane could make out the shapes of the two men inside. He quickly killed the lights in the Taurus and parked a few rows back and off to the side of the cruiser.
Shit, he’d have to walk right past them carrying his weapons of choice, surely they’d notice him. He thought about finding another way in. But chances are the hotel was closed down in the back for the night. He could always leave the weapon in the car, and hope to find one inside. He could probably get something useful from the kitchen. But hand to hand combat was really not his area of expertise, not that guns were either. He could always just roll up to them right now, and give them a drive by. But he’d probably end up missing and pissing them off.
Then he remembered Smith had all kinds of shit in his trunk. He quietly got out and made his way to the back of the car. He opened it and tried to look inside. With the cars lights off, the lack of street light on, and no sunlight, it was practically impossible to see. He pulled his phone from his pocket, and used the screen as a flashlight. Still dark but he could make out shapes better. There was the large automatic that Smith had used before or later or whenever. As well as a few other tools. Shit, he’d hoped for some hand grenades or something. He did find some flares, he pocketed those. He thought about using Smith’s gun, but he was much more comfortable with the shotgun. It seemed like less could go wrong with it.
Shane checked the time on his phon
e before he put it away. The sun was going to come up any minute. If he wanted to use the darkness to help him out he figured he better act now. He cracked the back door open just enough to pull his shotgun out, and made his way, crouched, towards the police cruiser.
His palms were sweating like crazy as he got closer. He’d never killed anyone before. In everything that had happened today, he’d never killed anyone or anything, not even the damn giant hell spider. The closer he got to the police car he realized that it wasn’t an interior light on in the car, they were watching something on a TV or laptop or something. He reached the back of the car and really hoped at that moment that they didn’t have one of those backup cams or he’d be fucked.
He peeked through the back window and saw them watching a video feed. At first, he couldn’t see anything, then he saw Kristen walk in front of the camera nude. Shit, they were watching her already, in the room. He ducked back down and cracked the flares. They flashed to life and Shane threw them under the cops’ car. He moved towards the driver’s side, being careful not to actually round the corner of the car, he didn’t want to be seen in the side mirror. Then he waited.
It took over a minute for the two inside the car to notice anything, then they were yelling. Shane couldn’t make out much of what they were saying until the doors were opened. Then he could hear a combination of “Fire” and “Fuck”. The driver kicked his door open and jumped out, patting his body as if he was already on fire. The smoke from the flares now billowing out and around the car.
Shane took one step around the car, leveled the shotgun at the bearded man’s face and fired. His head exploded off his body in a black mess. He dripped from where his head used to be, then his body fell against the car. Shane pivoted and spun around the back of the car. The second cop, the one sporting a mustache, was out of the car too but very confused. The smoke provided enough confusion to confuse the mustached cop, and provided Shane enough cover to keep covered. Shane pumped his shotgun and sighted it on the other cop.
Then two things happened at almost the same time, first Shane’s phone rang. He’d forgotten to put it on silent, Final Count Down was blaring from his phone, the mustached cop turned towards the sound. Second, Shane pulled the trigger and nothing happened. Shit, he wished he’d taken Smith’s gun now. He tried to pump it again, but something was jammed. He could feel the seconds ticking away, the moment of surprise was over. He tried to pump again, the smoke from the flares was dying down. He pumped again, harder this time and a shell flew out. He aimed again and suddenly could feel something punch through his stomach and he lost control of himself, he tumbled to the ground.
The mustache cop ran around the car to check his buddy. Shane could hear yells of frustration, then footsteps. Shane couldn’t move. The cop returned to the exact place near the passenger door where he’d pulled the trigger on Shane. He raised his gun again. Tears running down his face. Shane tried to move, tried to do anything, he couldn’t. He let out a primal yell and waited for it all to be over, he’d failed.
In the distance, he could hear a vehicle approaching, the real police? Maybe an ambulance? The car wasn’t slowing down. The mustache cop turned to look, but it was too late. The police cruiser was struck by another vehicle and poor mustache cop was pinched between the cruiser and the car next to it. He yelled and squealed in pain. His lower body was crushed between the cars. Black goo ran from his mouth. He struggled to pull and push the cars apart, but there was no chance of them separating ever again.
Shane watched, the whole thing happen from behind the police cruiser. The cruiser itself had just missed him. He heard a car door open, and someone run towards them. Then he could hear mustache cop pleading and then gunshots, lots and lots of gunshots, no more pleading after that. Then footsteps again this time coming towards him. Shane’s phone rang again. He didn’t know who was coming, but thanks to Final Count Down they’d know exactly where he was.
“Shane?” it was Smith’s voice. “That you buddy?”
“Yeah,” was all Shane could get out.
Smith hopped around the cruiser, he was carrying his very big gun again. “Shit,” was all he could get out.
“My note?” Shane asked struggling to not choke on his own blood.
“What note?” Smith grabbed Shane and propped him up again the car next to them. “I didn’t get any notes, I remembered. I remember some damn fucking toilet crushing me. I’ve got to say it’s one of the shittier ways I’ve died.”
“I…” Shane caught. “I…” people were coming out of the hotel now. Shane’s phone rang again.
“Come on, we have to get you to a hospital,” Smith tried to lift him, but Shane yelled in pain.
“No, please, no, I’m done.” Then he saw her and him, Kristen and past Shane. They were both looking at him. “Them,” he directed his eyes over to himself and Kristen so that Smith knew who he was talking about.
Smith waved them over, without hesitation, they came. When you see yourself shot and bleeding to death, you tend to come quickly to your own aid, and considered universe ending time travel encounters later. They both looked in shock at Shane, neither could really believe what they were looking at, but weren’t really surprised either, especially Kristen since she’d boned Future Shane a couple hours ago and was mostly playing along for Past Shane. Future Shane’s phone still rang.
“This is fucked up,” Past Shane said holding Kristen’s hand, both now crouching in front of him. Somehow standing in front of your own dyeing self-seemed disrespectful or something.
Kristen ran a hand over Shane’s cheek and mouthed, “I love you.”
Future Shane smiled at her and turned to Past Shane, “He made out with his cousin once on a family trip.”
Past Shane looked at Kristen, then back to future Shane, “Dude that wasn’t cool, and she was totally hot and you know that.”
Shane smiled, “Yeah, she was.” He’d have fist bumped himself if he could move at all. His phone still rang. Then he noticed past Shane’s phone was ringing too.
“I tried to answer it a couple times, but I keep getting disconnected.”
“Take mine…” Shane caught, his breathing was slower now. He wasn’t coughing as hard. His lungs were filling with blood and things were shutting down. “There is stuff in the van for you.” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Slowly he opened them again, he took his last breath and looked at Kristen. “I love you.”
She smiled at him, “I know.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
2014-B Past Shane: Sorry There Has Been a Mistake
Shane took the phone from the dying man’s hands, the man who looked just like him, sounded just like him, and knew intimate details about him no one else could possibly know. He took the phone and watched himself die. It’s something not many people ever get to experience, the possibility of him being the first crossed his mind.
He stayed there for a second just watching the man, expecting this all to be a big joke. The phone rang again and he snapped back to reality, he was trying to save his friend Jason and he had no idea where to look, let alone where to even start. He looked down at the phone. It looked just like his own, same scratch on the screen protector, same wiggly button. Strange, it felt like his, even if he could feel his own phone pressing against his leg in his pocket.
The call display read unknown, Shane looked at Kristen and shrugged. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of approaching police and ambulance sirens. He answered the call. “Hello.”
“Good day,” it was a tired sounding man on the other end. “Shane, this is the moderator. Something’s changed on your feed.”
“What are you talking about? My feeds?”
“Sorry, there has been a mistake…”
Shane looked down at the body again, his body, “Wait, I am Shane. Are you the moderator? of the site?”
“Yes.”
As far as Shane knew no one had ever talked to anyone who actually ran the site. If they had they’d been good at
keeping it quiet. “My feed, forgive me, I’ve been through a lot today.” He starred at the future Shane’s body. “What’s changed in it?”
“That’s understandable, I look forward to reading about just what you’re doing. You’ve actually amassed the most hits we’ve ever had. No doubt the live feed and the request for help aided in that.”
“Right, so…”
“Sorry, yes. There seems to be a house there now.” The man’s voice paused, there were voice’s in the background of the call, it sounded like he was in a busy location. “Actually, a whole bushel of them.”
“Bushel?”
“Yes, it started with one house, now it looks to be a small town. They seem to have just appeared there. Somehow they just get there, they don’t pop into existence, you just kind of notice a new one.”
Houses? Could this be Jason related? He smiled down at his own body and would have kissed himself if you knew he wasn’t dead, so a mental fist bump was good enough. “What was the house number of the first house?”
“You are definitely as clever as your post lead on. At first, no one seemed to know. The comment section went crazy trying to remember which was the first. Finally, someone admitted to pirating the feed and replayed it for us. It was house 815. Anyways, that’s all I have.”
“Thank you,”
“This goes without saying but don’t tell anyone we’ve talked. I do get into the action as a user. But no one has any idea who I am. Plus, I’d probably get fired.”
“No problem, thanks again.” Shane ended the call and dropped the cell phone into his pocket, the exact same two phones bumped against each other. Shane just couldn’t take his eyes off himself, dead.