by Glen Krisch
"Can you get that, Kev?" his dad asked. He did not look away from his mom. And she held his gaze, even as she shoveled forkfuls of French toast into her mouth. He kissed her hand, like couples did in old movies, and then wiped away maple syrup that was dribbling down her chin. He licked his finger clean of the syrup, and at that moment, leaving the kitchen was just about the best thing Kevin felt he could have done.
The knocking at the door became more insistent. The rug by the door absorbed the slap of his bare feet. The family suitcases waited by the door for the trip to the bus station. All of them. Even his dad's. He tried thinking back to that morning (this morning), to see if he could remember if they had brought his dad's suitcase to the bus station. He couldn't remember. He supposed it didn't matter.
Nearly blinding sunlight shined through the small panes at the top of the storm door. He closed his eyes, and once again saw that red warmth behind his eyelids. It was a welcoming warmth, and he did not want to open his eyes again.
But the knocking. More insistent, rattling the door.
Kevin opened his eyes, and reached for the doorknob. When he opened the door, all he saw was a black void. And the stench of something foul, something abused and rotting.
His eyes adjusted. It wasn't a black void outside. It was nighttime. The pure black of night, when the sun is so far gone you can feel the shadows breathing. Kevin saw the winking lights of his friend Scotty's house across the street, and then the red embers, twin fires burning in a somber blue face. Mr. Freakshow.
The Freak was here, and Kevin had willfully opened the door. Kevin's feet were frozen. He could not even blink.
"Kevin. Hello. I'm so glad you waited for me. Hope you enjoyed your final meal." The beast took a step inside, his engorged wings flapping behind him like snapped bath towels.
Kevin looked over his shoulder. His dad was licking his mom's face, licking an errant runnel of maple syrup from her cheek, her chin, her forehead.
But then they were fading, becoming transparent, translucent. Invisible. The kitchen table and chairs faded and were gone, too. Along with the breakfast smells--fried bacon, the sweet French toast aroma, and melted butter… all gone. The kitchen was empty, the living room was empty, the family suitcases were gone.
"Your killing time is here," the Freak whispered, reaching out for Kevin.
He was able to stumble away from the door, and as he turned to run away--to where, he had no idea--he tripped over his backpack. The only thing in his family home except for dust bunnies and memories. He took hold of the backpack strap as he tumbled, able to sling it over his shoulder. Mr. Freakshow lunged at him, claws spreading like a fistful of spears, and tore a swatch from the fabric of his backpack. Kevin finished his roll and gained his feet. He sprinted down the hallway, his footsteps sounding foreign in the unfamiliar emptiness of the house.
Mr. Freakshow was close on his heels, his curled toenails digging furrows in the hardwood with every stride.
Carin and Maury were making good time. They had taken I88 west, and then 39/51 south, and were leaving miles behind, more than a mile and a half a minute. They left the rain behind in the city, and the roads were dry. They had passed through the LaSalle/Peru spur where the highway system rested like a crucifix across the center of Illinois. Darkness spread over the open plains like a sickness, and still Carin sped down the highway, onward south, to their home in Warren Cove, and hopefully, dear God, hopefully, to Kevin.
"This should have never happened," Carin said her first words since leaving the city.
"I'm afraid Nolan Gage didn't invest as much time or money in the containment system as I thought necessary."
Carin saw his profile as he stared out the side window. She thought back to the day she and Kevin moved to her mother's house, to the lost and insoluble expression her son had carried like the heaviest burden imaginable. Maury looked like this; maybe a look of guilt, maybe feeling responsible for the escaped dreams. Like she knew Kevin felt responsible for his dad's death. She wished she could go back in time, how far… a day, a week? and tell Kevin that none of it had been his fault.
"That's not what I meant. I meant I should have never let Kevin talk me into letting him go into that damn museum. None of this would have happened if I would have told him no."
"Oh…" Maury said, sighing.
The thrumming engine was the only sound for many miles. It was numbing, driving at such speeds. They were only a discarded roofing nail or broken beer bottle shy of bursting a tire, of crashing end over end at ninety odd miles an hour into the grassy berm on the side of the road. Driving blind, trusting the safety of the road, trusting the next twenty feet in front of the car, and the next beyond, for miles and miles.
Carin's thoughts returned to Kevin, and she heard his laughter in her head--a sound so rare for so long--his hitching laugh that climbed in pitch with his every breath until it became one long screech, and then dissolving into uncontrollable giggling. This took away the numbness of the drive. She reached over her shoulder, grabbing the seatbelt. She pulled it over her torso and locked it into place at her side without taking her eyes from the road.
The next twenty feet.
Kevin needed her, and she wasn't about to let him down because some drunk idiot chucked an empty beer bottle out the window and she wasn't paying attention to the next twenty feet. She would worry about other things when they reached Warren Cove.
"So, how did you learn about your… abilities?" Carin asked, breaking the silence.
Maury turned, looked at her, and then returned his gaze to the window. "When I was around Kevin's age, maybe a little younger, our apartment burned down. If you couldn't guess from my appearance, I didn't escape unharmed."
"Oh, thank God," Carin said. Maury shot her a look so cold that she could feel it without looking at him. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I just haven't taken this route in a while. We're two miles away from Warren Cove. We're almost there."
"Outstanding," Maury said quietly.
"I'm sorry, Maury, go on. What happened next?"
After a long pause Maury continued. "To tell you the truth, I don't know if I had my abilities before the fire. Maybe I always had the ability and I just didn't know it. The fire could have opened a doorway that had been there in the first place."
They left the highway on a sharply curving exit ramp, slowing to twenty miles an hour to hold the curve. They passed a gas station and a squat red produce stand that was closed for the season. Otherwise, blocks of homes on tree-lined streets spread out before them like a paper fan.
"The first dream I transmuted was from my brother. It was our family pet, a pound cat we'd named Rocky. That cat was a survivor, just like the boxer in the movies. He was a day short of euthanasia when we adopted him. He burned to charcoal in the apartment fire. Soon after, the dream-Rocky started tormenting my brother, and this dream-cat was always on fire, but would never die. Eventually, the dream-Rocky killed Dale."
"I'm so sorry." Carin took her eyes from the road. When she looked at Maury, she could see the pain in his eyes. She wanted to say more, but she knew from bitter experience she couldn't say anything to make him feel any better. She turned onto Winfield road, and they were only a block away. She wanted to drive up to the old house and see Kevin climbing the oak tree in the front yard. She wanted to yell at him for climbing too high, and then hug him when he climbed down.
"That's how I know Mr. Freakshow will try to kill your son. Because of my brother, Dale. And when I was twelve, I was taken in by my foster family--"
"What the hell is that?" Carin cut him off, pulling over to the curb. Their house was lit up from the inside. Lit up as if by daylight. Golden light spilled from the first floor windows. And the front door was open. A figure, a large, hulking figure, filled the doorway. Mr. Freakshow. "No no no!" Carin threw the car into park before it was completely stopped, and it jerked forward, as if a giant foot had kicked it in the rear bumper.
She opened the door and ran ac
ross the front lawn as the Freak stepped inside her family's home. The interior sunlight of the house dimmed to a cold darkness as the door closed behind him. "No!"
Maury remained in the car. He casually unbuckled his seat belt, then casually pressed wrinkles from his dress shirt. Before leaving the Explorer, he reached over and hit a button on the driver's side door. The locks on all the doors flipped open. He continued speaking as he left the car, continued speaking as if he was still explaining his life to Carin. "And then I learned that a dream could die. But only if the dreamer died. Poor, simple Gabe. I could have loved him like a brother, I think…" he trailed off, as if pondering it. Musing over his foster brother. He popped open the back tail gate and rummaged through the typical car gear. Jumper cables, snow brush, emergency blanket.
This will do. This will do just fine.
Maury hefted the tire iron in his hand, tapping it against the nerveless pink of his left palm. He didn't feel it, but the boy surely would. "And then I let Gabe die. You see, I had to find out. If the dreamer dies, does the dream also? Gabe was such a sweet kid, but I had to know…" Maury's voice became quieter until his words were only in his head. All he could imagine was the tire iron connecting solidly with Kevin's skull, springing loose his brains upon the floor, freeing the world of Mr. Freakshow.
And in the end, loving Juliet.
At first, Kevin thought Mr. Freakshow had slashed him with his claws, but his backpack took the brunt of the damage. The attack had sent him flying across the floor, sliding on the moonlight-bathed wood. He couldn't help wondering where the sunlight had gone. Of all the details Mr. Freakshow had controlled since Kevin woke up, down to the wrinkles on his parents' faces, all he could wonder about was the daylight. It seemed the most unnatural of all. Daylight to night in the blink of an eye.
He jumped from his belly to his knees and then his feet in one fluid motion, and sprinted down the hall, the beast tearing the air an inch from his ear.
"Kevin, oh Kevin, this is for real, isn't it? No more games, no more dreams. Just you and me, flesh and blood--torn flesh and gushing blood. I couldn't be more proud!" Mr. Freakshow said from behind. The beast watched him run away, watched as he fled to… well, to nowhere. The house was a series of dead ends and Mr. Freakshow would know this. Know this because Kevin did. A hallway led to the kitchen, the stairs led to the bedrooms, the hallway to his dad's home office, a basement… all dead ends.
The basement. It had window wells. A way out; if he could only make it outside, it seemed like his only hope. He threw open the basement door and closed it shut behind him. He flipped the light switch, and the bulb remained unlit. He'd forgotten there wasn't any power. No one lived here. The room was darker than night. And quiet. The whole house was quiet but for his own panting breath.
He reached out so he wouldn't run into anything, and then remembered the house was empty. This house was no longer his, and none of his family's possessions would block his path. The room was chilly and damp and felt a mile long. When his hands reached the far wall, touching the coarse concrete, he strained to hear any noise from upstairs. Still nothing. He ran his hands along the wall until he came across the window well. The concrete alcove in the foundation sat at chest level on Kevin. He flipped the lock and pulled the window in on its stiff hinge. He expected to find Mr. Freakshow waiting inside the concrete alcove, waiting for Kevin to step inside where it would be oh so easy for him to gouge out his heart. Kevin waved his hand through the open space, but only felt the smooth pebbles that lined the well floor.
He eased his backpack to the floor and then strained to lift himself into the well. When he reached over his head, he realized why this was such a stupid idea in the first place. He had forgotten about the steel grate his dad had welded to seal off the top of the well. A number of neighborhood homes had been broken into, and his dad didn't want to take any chances. He equipped the home with steel-reinforced doors, deadbolts and lock bars, as well as capping off the window wells. Kevin pushed against the grate, and he could feel it give a little, but not much at all.
With a little more time, he could bust out the welds holding down the grate. He stood inside the well with his hands braced against the grate above him and forced himself up like a jack lifting a car. He was practically jumping up and down, wiggling the welds until they weakened. Finally, he felt something give above him.
Almost there, come on, come on…
Carin tried the front door, but of course, it was locked. She found the kidney shaped rock where they kept their spare key. It was freshly overturned, and the key was missing. Kevin must have taken it.
Damn.
"I thought we could use a weapon of some kind." Maury joined her on the front step, holding a tire iron in his hand. From the look on his face, he didn't want to switch out a bad tire. He looked ready to pummel someone.
"Good. Give me that." Carin reached for the tire iron. He almost protested giving up his weapon, but reluctantly handed it over. "If I can only…" Carin wedged a blunt tip into the door seam and yanked against it. It didn't budge. Not one spare millimeter. "Damnstupidfuck!" she yelled at the door, yelled at the tire iron, and at herself. She couldn't get into her own house.
"Is there another entrance?" Maury asked.
"There's a big picture window in the back." She handed Maury the tire iron and then futilely rammed her shoulder into the unforgiving door. The only reaction she got was a dull ache in her shoulder. She was going to start crying at any moment.
Maury tapped the tire iron in his palm as he watched her mad behavior. He seemed unfazed by any of this. Maybe it was because it wasn't his child they were trying to save. "I'll go check out that picture window." He left in a hurry, and was around the corner of the house, taking the only weapon they had with him.
She lowered her eyes, and could feel the tears building, ready to fall. Her eyes came to rest on the kidney shaped rock. When she picked it up, it felt solid in her hand, eight, maybe ten pounds. The tears dried in her eyes before they could fall and she could feel her determination returning. She wasn't about to let a steel-reinforced door stop her from protecting her child. She forced a path through the thick bushes at the front of the house until she was in front of the living room windows. She lifted the rock over her head and threw it at the window.
A second weld gave loose, and then a third ripped away, and Kevin was nearly free when he heard glass shattering upstairs. He struggled harder, sweat spreading over his body, adrenaline rushing through him, when he heard his mom's voice from upstairs. She was screaming, a blistering rage that quickly became a whimper of pain.
"Kevin, Momma's home!" Mr. Freakshow shouted.
The sound of the Freak's voice stole his breath. He jumped down from the moonlit window well and cautiously walked across the concrete floor. His pulse shot through his head, in his ears. The wooden stairs creaked every step he climbed. He unlocked the door. When he opened it, the first thing he saw was his mom sprawled on her back in a pile of broken glass, propped up by her trembling arm. Blood flowed from her cut cheek, dripping into a sticky mass on the floor. She looked angry enough to eat nails without wincing. Her right leg was bent at a weird angle, just below the kneecap. Kevin realized the Freak had broken it. His nightmare had hurt his mom.
Mr. Freakshow stood over her, clenching his fists, his wings swaying gently. His every movement was an expression of pure joy.
"Leave her alone. Take me. Just leave my mom alone." Kevin stepped forward from the shadows.
Chapter 24
"Kevin, get away from here! Damn it, run!" his mom shrieked, horrified that he would voluntarily approach his nightmare. She grimaced as she crawled the five feet to where Mr. Freakshow stood. She latched onto his ankle, as if to hold him in place.
"Just leave her be."
More glass shattered, this time coming from the rear of the house. Kevin and Mr. Freakshow exchanged a questioning glance, and then Kevin looked at his mom. She was motioning for him to run, to get away as q
uickly as possible. He waited, listening to glass crunching, to someone clumsily climbing through a window.
"Who might that be? It isn't our boy Kevin, or dear ol' Mom. We know that much. Secretary-fucking Daddy is dead, and let's see… oh yes, I have my grandma souvenir right here…" the Freak said. "I know I put it someplace close…" He reached into a leather pouch strapped to his bare waist and removed something from the voluminous pocket. It looked to be a blood-caked skull.
Kevin stared at the skull in disbelief. Of course, Mr. Freakshow would try to fool him again. His grandma was out of harm's way, tucked away in her quiet neighborhood back in Chicago.
Of course, Grandma was safe, and he would never… the Freak wouldn't harm…
He looked from the skull prized in the Freak's palm, to his mom's face. As soon as he saw her expression, he knew the skull was real, that his grandma was dead, murdered. Murdered in some cruel, senseless way. Just because she was his grandma.
Walking through the dining room, someone ground broken glass underfoot. For a brief moment, the slimmest fraction of a second in which Kevin had forgotten the last two months, he thought he would see his dad walk around the corner with a gun in his hand, ready to save the day. Seeing Maury Bennett enter the kitchen threw him off. Maury's eyes were gleaming with menace as he gripped a tire iron in his right hand. As the man from Lucidity brushed shards of glass from his clothes, he glanced at a laceration on the back of his hand. He sucked on the wound, approaching Kevin.
"Maury… thank God you're here. Mr. Freakshow--" Kevin quickly trailed off as Maury wheeled back the tire iron in a thick arc, ready to strike.
"No!" Carin screamed. She tried to get to her feet, but pain forced her back to the floor. A puzzled look came across Mr. Freakshow's face, and as he watched Maury, he backhanded Kevin's mom into silence.