Becoming

by Glenn Rolfe

  A knock came from below. The kid on the bike.

  “I can’t see anything but crap,” Kellen said. He had his hands cupped around his eyes, trying to glimpse inside Packard’s.

  “You guys,” Kim said. “Is that blood?”

  After knocking three times, Brady tried the door. It wouldn’t budge. He turned back to see what Kim was talking about. She stood over a hole in the porch. It certainly looked like blood, and more of it than he would like to see. Beside it was a hand print.

  “We need to get in there,” Brady said. He scanned the porch.

  “What are you doing?” Kim said.

  He spotted the broken board that must have come from the hole and grabbed it. Without a second thought, Brady held the splintered plank like a baseball bat. “Get back.” Kellen and Kim did as they were told. He swung through the window. The glass shattered inward.

  “Holy shit, Brady, what the hell are you doing?” Kellen said.

  Brady used the board to sweep the rest of the shards away.

  Kellen crossed his arms and shook his head. “I’m not going in there.”

  Brady spun on him and grabbed him by the collar. “Listen to me right now. We saw Mr. Packard this morning. He was naked and covered in this shit. He chased me and Kim back through the woods.”

  “What?” Kellen said.

  “Just listen. He followed us to Kim’s. We hid in the basement and heard him come into her house. When my mom showed up looking for me, he booked it. My mom’s car is sitting outside his nasty shop and there’s blood on his porch. And it looks like your mom is here too. Now, you can stand out here and be a chicken shit, or you can come in with me and find out what the hell is going on.” He let go of his cousin’s shirt.

  Kim stepped beside him and took his hand. “I’m going in too,” she said.

  “All right, all right, I’ll come too. I want a weapon though,” Kellen said. “Can I have the board?”

  Brady picked the broken board up from the porch where he had dropped it and handed it to his cousin. He slid his backpack off and handed it to Kim. “Can you hand this to me after I’m in?”

  “Sure.”

  He stepped in with his left foot, ducked his head under the unbroken pane above, and pulled his other leg over the threshold. The inside of the place smelled as bad as the outside looked. Mildew and decay permeated the large, cluttered room. He hadn’t been inside the building in a while, but he was pretty sure it hadn’t reeked like this before. He glanced around but couldn’t tell if there was anything amiss. If anyone was here, they were upstairs.

  “Give it here,” he said. Kim handed him his bag. The stairs on the far side of the room began to creak. Someone’s coming.

  “Quick! Hide, hide,” Brady ordered in a hushed tone.

  Kim and Kellen scurried to the side of the porch, disappearing from sight.

  Brady scanned his immediate surroundings and found a table covered in bright-colored plastic utensils. There was a tablecloth that hung halfway down to the floor. He got down, slid under and felt sharp pain in both his knees. The glass from the broken window covered the floor. Ignoring the pain, he hauled his backpack in behind him. No doubt Mr. Packard had heard the breaking glass. He would walk right to this mess, but hopefully he would see there was nobody here and assume the delinquents responsible had left. If not…if he did turn around and see Brady, well… that was another bridge to cross.

  Alan stalked his way down the stairs. Someone had smashed out one of his windows. He hurried to the first floor dressed only in the flannel shirt and work gloves he’d donned to carry the body.

  A cursory glance showed no signs of intruders, save for the shattered window. He scurried across the market floor. A trail of blue mucus followed in his wake. The stuff was now flowing from every pore. His earthly form was getting worse. The flesh had given in to the strange glop that he’d been secreting for the last few days. Ascension.

  He reached the broken window and noticed the shards of glass on the floor beneath. A small blotch of blood amid the reflective fragments caught his attention. Perhaps someone was here after all.

  Brady sat like a statue. He clutched his backpack, eyes locked upon the bare legs that stood before his hiding place. The slime on Mr. Packard’s skin trickled down before his eyes. His heart hammered so loudly in his chest he was certain it would give him away. The quiet was broken by a quick succession of taps upon the tabletop above him.

  Alan stood beside the table, taking inventory of the immediate area of the store. He searched for the culprit responsible for the vandalism. There were a couple of couches about fifteen feet from where he stood, but they were both pressed flush against the wall. Another room off to the right contained the rest of his furniture collection. Perhaps the little shit was hiding in there.

  One of the plastic spaghetti ladles tumbled from the edge of the table and landed with a soft thud. He dropped his gaze. He leaned back and inspected the table of plastic utensils. A large, nasty smirk maneuvered its way to life upon his drooping face. “Come out, come out, wherever you are?” he teased, his voice filled with phlegm making his delivery sound more sinister.

  Brady’s blood chilled at the disturbed man’s words. I have to bolt. Maybe if I’m quick enough, I can rush past him and jump out the window…

  Before Brady could decide, the floor beneath him came alive with a hum. The whole room vibrated. His first thoughts were of an earthquake. He heard ceramic trinkets and glass dishes rattle and then smash as they hit the floor throughout the room. The whole building shook. Alan Packard’s feet disappeared. Brady’s path was clear.

  Mom.

  Kim hoped Brady was all right. She was preparing to check on him when a mangy German shepherd walked around the porch. Its coat was covered in the blue slime. The animal stopped and stared.

  “Oh shit,” Kim said. She had a faint scar just below her left eye from where she’d been bit by her grandmother’s German shepherd when she was four. She’d been petting the dog when it disappeared under the kitchen table at her grandmother’s house. Not knowing any better, she grabbed the dog by its tail and tried to pull it out. That’s when it turned and bit her. She didn’t remember anything afterward except talking to the doctors when they were stitching her up. The dog’s tooth had just missed her eye. Grandpa Jack put the dog down that night after he got home from the mill. Kim hadn’t trusted dogs since.

  The disgruntled, filthy mutt before her lifted its top lip and revealed a set of nasty canines. Its ears pinned back as it growled and lifted its right front paw. Kim couldn’t move; she couldn’t breathe. The blue stuff leaked from its eyes.

  “Good doggy,” Kellen whispered. With a touch as light as a feather, he grabbed Kim’s arm and guided her back, putting himself between her and the mongrel. “Now shoo, go on, git.”

  The dog growled louder. Kim was about to start hyperventilating. Her head swooned. Her stomach did a somersault. She placed her back flat against the side of the building and felt a vibration. A loud hum accompanied the rumbling.

  The scruffy mutt’s ears perked up. It turned its head past them, its attention redirected. Without a second glance in their direction, the dog trotted toward the backyard.

  “I think that was Jovi.”

  “Who?” Kim asked. She felt the blood start to flow in her veins again.

  “Mr. Huber’s dog. The one that he claimed was taken by aliens last week.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are you okay?” Kellen asked.

  Kim’s shoulders slumped forward. She tried to get her rapid breaths to slow. When she managed to calm herself, she leaned her head on Kellen’s shoulder and said, “Thank you.”

  “Don’t be fooled. I was two seconds away from pissing my pants.”

  “All the same, thank you for stepping up. I was useless.”

  “You were pale as a ghost.”

  Kim turned and looked for the dog. It had disappeared around the rear of the property. “Do you hear that?


  Kellen turned to face Packard’s. He placed his hands on the building. “Holy Moses, feel that?”

  Kim joined him. The building was vibrating.

  Brady poked his head out from under the table. The room, the building, the earth continued to rumble, growing in intensity. It was another boom birthing from below. He inched his head up, peeking just over the edge of the table that guarded his presence. He caught Mr. Packard’s naked legs ascending the stairs at the far end of the room. He waited for the feet to disappear before he stood. Dirt and dust drifted down upon him from the ceiling. He looked up and wondered if the whole place was going to come down. He stuck his head outside the window.

  “Guys…guys?” he whispered.

  A remaining shard of glass from above shook loose and nicked his neck on its way down. A speck of blood bubbled up from the small wound.

  “Kim. Kellen,” he said, this time a little louder as he rubbed his neck.

  After a couple seconds they stepped forward.

  “Come on, I don’t think we have much time.”

  “Did you see anything?” Kellen said.

  Kim hurried past him and around the front to the steps. “Come on, Kellen. Your mom might be in there too,” she said.

  Kellen grabbed the railing of the porch and hoisted himself up. “All right, but let’s try to get in and get out. This whole pigsty could fall,” he said.

  Brady helped Kim and then Kellen through the window, glass crunching beneath their feet as they shuffled in. More dirt and dust dropped from the trembling ceiling overhead. Brady moved to the front of the group and felt a tug on his backpack.

  Kim stared at him. “Maybe you should touch the canister again. Maybe it will show us where he is and what he’s doing?”

  Despite her projected bravery, Brady could easily read the fear swelling behind her eyes. He thought of Mr. Packard’s oozing legs and shivered. “I don’t think I really want to get any closer to that stuff.”

  “What if he jumps us?” she said. Her forehead creased; her cute button nose crinkled.

  Kellen stared at them like they both belonged on a funny farm.

  Brady wrestled with their prospects briefly before giving in. The situation called for risk; might as well get a leg up wherever they could. No telling what kind of mental state Mr. Packard was in.

  “Okay, I’ll try.” He shrugged the bag from his back one more time.

  Brady watched Kellen from the corner of his eye as his cousin rocked back and forth on his heels, and gnawed at his nails before throwing his arms up. “Hey, there’s a door back there behind the counter. I’m gonna go check it out.” Kellen moved past them as Brady pulled the silver thermos from his nylon bag. The reverberations ran up his arms as soon as he touched it. He crouched down and placed it on the floor, where it did its tap routine. He cupped both hands around it and waited for it to do its thing. After a couple seconds, he saw his mother. She lay perfectly still, eyes closed, covered in the blue mucus.

  Kim stared at Brady, praying he would be okay. The blue aura was wrapped around him like an apparition. She jumped as Kellen screamed from behind her.

  Brady’s view turned away from his mother and back toward the staircase.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The familiar sense of intrusion pressed behind Alan Packard’s eyes. Someone was down there all right. He was two steps from the staircase when the enormous explosion hit. The violent earth rocked his property. The windows on his second floor facing the backyard shattered inward, sending shards of glass through the rooms. A cascade of tiny weapons ripped through him as the sonic blast sent him careening to the floor.

  A thick, solid spray of the blue stuff shot out from his bathroom and painted that end hallway. Another loud clink and rattle came from the opposite direction as the kitchen sink also erupted.

  He twitched and leaked from the plethora of shrapnel. His attempt to get up was futile. It was his time to ascend.

  Kim spun and watched Kellen back away from the open door behind the cash register, his mouth still open as if to continue the scream, but nothing came out. Behind her, Brady let out a deep, painful moan. She turned and saw his eyes open. They were filled with a blue glow and stared off into another world. Before she could figure out what to do, the whole building shuddered. An enormous boom shook the earth. She screamed and dove for the floor, dust and dirt filling her mouth and nose. The shockwave sent the grandfather clock sitting against the wall in front of her smashing into a table of state-by-state pint glasses, sending a series of them to their demise.

  The blue slime erupted from within the silver canister held between Brady’s hands. Kim gasped as he caught the blast of slime right in his face. He was thrown backward into a display table of used children’s board games. The stream of blue ooze spiraled straight up at the ceiling for a few seconds and then stopped, cascading down to the floor in a series of splats.

  The blue aura illuminating Brady’s body faded.

  “Brady, Brady, wake up. Are you all right? Say something,” Kim said.

  Kim’s voice drifted into Brady’s awakening mind. He opened his eyes to a total whiteout. “My eyes…there’s something wrong with my eyes. It’s all…” he said.

  “M-m-my m-mom’s…” Kellen tried to say something, but was overcome with tears. He dropped down next to Kim.

  “What? What is it?” Brady said. Despite the electric, white light oversaturating the world before him, his cousin’s devastation came through loud and painfully clear.

  “She—she—she…she’s dead.”

  Kellen’s words struck Brady’s heart with a bullet. “Where’s my mom? Is she…” he started, but then he recalled the vision of her—encased in the slime, still breathing…and then the stairs… Brady tried to get to his feet, but fell back to the floor as he reached for a support that wasn’t there. “Kellen?”

  “Brady,” Kim said. “We need to get out of here and call the police.”

  He climbed to his feet. “I can’t leave her here. If this psycho killed my aunt, it’s only a matter of time before he takes my mom too—uhh!”

  “Brady?” Kim cried.

  Brady slammed to his knees. His hands gripped his hair above his ears. Images and voices collided fast enough to rip a hole in the sky, or at least through his mind. Take them. Bring them. Ascend. The refrain he’d heard earlier. Then, engulfed in complete darkness, Brady caught the smell of raw sewage, earth and rot; he saw a pulsating, blue, gelatinous mound squeezing through pipes and soil, positioned and waiting. Months, years, decades soared by in the blaze of a solar flare. Initiate contact. Begin nourishing phase. Prepare for eeeeeeeee-ennnnnnn-ooooo-eeee… The shrill squeal blasted between Brady’s ears. His screams challenged the signal in pitch and sheer terror.

  The whole building rumbled and vibrated. Trinkets and gizmos continued to hit the floor. Brady doubled over.

  “Brady?” Kim said, trying to catch him. “Brady!” She grabbed hold of his arm.

  Brady’s scream died. He collapsed to the ground.

  The room around them continued to throb, rumble and shake. Kim rushed to Brady’s side. He felt her arm hook his own and begin to lift him from the vibrating floor. The dingy dirt floor flooded through the brilliant white light that had blinded him. He placed his left palm on the trembling ground and pulled his knees up beneath him.

  “Brady?”

  He shoved Kim away and heard her cry out as she bumped into something behind her. His stomach tightened, a cold sweat breaking out over his spine. He clenched his eyes shut tight and retched.

  Kim watched Brady vomit the blue slime.

  “Kim…” Kellen spoke up.

  “Brady, oh my God, Brady!” she cried.

  “Kim…” Kellen tried again.

  Brady rose and felt his way along the spilling tables of flea market refuse, ignoring Kim’s pleas to go for help. There was no way he was leaving here without his mother.

  “Kellen, Kellen,” he said. He got no response.

&nb
sp; “Hold up,” Kim said.

  Kellen felt Kim’s hand on his arm.

  “Kellen, are you okay?” she asked.

  “She’s…she’s…” he managed before breaking down into tears again, rocking back and forth on the floor with his arms locked around his folded legs

  “Kellen, can you go next door and try and get some help? Brady and I are going to look upstairs. Can you do that?” Kim said.

  Kellen sniffled and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his shirt before picking himself up off the ground. “I can’t…” He took a moment to compose himself and continued, “I can’t let you guys go up there alone.”

  “You guys?” Brady said.

  Kellen grabbed Kim by the wrist. Standing at the bottom of the stairs was the thing that had once been Alan Packard.

  Upstairs, Belinda Carmichael opened her eyes. Fear swallowed her like a cyanide pill, poisonous and final. She gasped for breath, but only managed to suck in a mouthful of the blue slime she was ensconced in. The slime flowed down her throat and slid into her lungs. Her body began to convulse inside its new womb. Part of her mind—the part not quite gone—sensed the life within the blue mucus. She heard a series of tiny voices whispering all around her. The slime worked itself inside of her. She would have screamed if she could.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “You…cannot…stop…us…” said the thing wearing the melting form of Alan Packard.

  Kim and Kellen stood trembling before the ghastly sight. It stood at the bottom of the stairs. Its face looked like a bowl of melting ice cream—the features drooped and sagged into one another. Chunks of weak flesh, highlighted in a blue glow, dripped from what used to be a chin. It still wore a flannel shirt that was covered in the blue film. The fingers at the ends of the hands sticking out at the bottom of the shirt’s sleeves were gelled together. They trembled and secreted more of the slime onto the ground. The bottom half of Mr. Packard’s exposed form no longer held any trace of his manhood. Whatever had been there had slid off in the mess trailing down the stairs.