by Steven Fox
***
They headed down the street, ducking into buildings whenever the road decided it was tired of its spot on the ground. The high school loomed ahead, and anxiety pooled at the bottom of Jason’s gut. He just wanted to peek. Whether or not they found Talshe or Leech mattered little to him at that point. The pressure at the back of his head started pushing on him. But he ignored it, muttering ‘forth’ when necessary.
Now they stood at the entryway, double steel doors painted red—the school color. Jason peeked in through the windows: Students milled about. Teachers, too. None of them seemed aware of the other, and no one besides the teachers and the smart kids were worried about getting to class on time.
“We should be fine,” said Jason. “I don’t think anyone’s paying attention.”
“Of course not,” said Len. “They’re dreaming. Why should they pay attention to us?”
Jason shrugged before pushing open the door, half-prepared for something funny to happen, like the lockers exploding, books and papers flying around in a hurricane of unfinished homework. Or a stampede of frightened freshmen. Instead, a discordant chorus of moans drifted through the air, and the three followed the sound to a pile of naked bodies writhing against one of the lockers. Jason’s face, along with Darlene and Len’s, flushed bright red. There seemed to be six girls curled around one scrawny guy. Jason recognized him, but only from periphery glances in class. Len covered Darlene’s eyes. Darlene thanked her by returning the favor.
Jason looked away as well. Pinching his brow, he muttered, “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” But no one seemed to hear him.
Except for the kid amid the squirming girls, who looked up, his Coke-bottle glasses nearly falling off the edge of his nose. His words hardly came out in a squeak: “Who the fuck are you?”
Jason, without thinking, turned on the boy, and smiled at him. “Ah, the question isn’t who am I, but who are you?” He ducked down, kneeling next to the boy lost in the orgy. “Is this what you want? A whole bunch of girls doing you in the middle of the high school hallway? Is that supposed to impress anyone? Maybe prove something?”
“F-fuck off.”
“No, you seem to be doing enough of that for everyone. Listen: you don’t need all these girls fingering your junk to impress anyone. It won’t convince anyone either. It’s not a choice.”
The boy seized up.
Jason’s smile widened. “A fantasy like this has no point. Listen now, you have a choice: give it a thought, and don’t forget, people aren’t impressed by showiness; they just want you and yourself! Can’t you see? Don’t you see?”
He grabbed the boy by the wrist and pulled him from the writhing bodies. After a moment, the orgy disintegrated, and the boy was fully-clothed in a leather jacket and a skull cap. A guitar hung from his shoulders. Jason nodded at this.
“See this guitar? Use it to make people happy. Some will hate you, some will love you. It’s much better than STDs, don’cha think?”
The boy nodded. And gave Jason a small smile. He mouthed “Thank you” before disappearing in a flash of light.
Jason stumbled and fell, nearly smacking his head into the lockers. For a moment, he could see nothing but blackness. In the back of his mind, the faintest trickle of words poured out: “Sleep and forget. Forget and sleep. Sleep and…”
“Jason? Open your eyes, man. Don’t fall asleep.”
“C’mon, Jiggy. Don’t make me slap you.”
His eyelids fluttered open. He groaned, rubbing his forehead. Len and Darlene were there, helping him upright. In a sitting position, Jason felt the pressure at the back of his head. He muttered ‘forth.’
“What’d you say?” said Len.
“Forth.”
“No, to the kid. You said something to him. And suddenly he was gone, along with his harem.”
“It was like the girl in the office,” said Darlene. “They both looked happy before they left. I mean, damn, Jiggy, when’d you become Dr. Phil?”
“Hey, don’t insult me.” He pondered her words and tried to think about both the Hispanic girl and the boy in black. Slowly, he shook his head.
“What?” said Len. “What is it?”
Jason looked up at her, then back down at his hands. To him, in that moment, they didn’t look like his hands at all. Such a crazy thing, he thought. I should probably keep that to myself. And the fact that I can’t remember what I said to either that girl or the boy…
“Yo, you okay?” said Darlene.
“I’ll get back to you on that.”
“Here, let’s get you up.”
Len and Darlene got under each of his arms and hoisted him to his feet. Jason was steady enough, but still he pondered what had just happened. All he got was a headache. The harder he tried to think, the louder the words became: “Sleep and forget. Forget and sleep. Sleep and…”
“Don’t fall again, please,” said Len. “You’re heavier than you look.”
“Calling me fat?”
“Never,” said Darlene. “A hippo called, by the way. Said she was looking for her lost baby. His name is Jason McKinney.”
Jason stuck his tongue out at Darlene, then turned and headed down the hallway, rubbing his forehead. Len and Darlene followed close behind. They traversed the halls, coming by people in their underwear, others naked. They had to duck into a bathroom to avoid being trampled by a stampeding horde of wide-eyed freshmen. When they peeked out, Jason recognized where they were. He motioned the others to follow as he moved toward the cafeteria.
They pushed through the double doors, and they all stared slack-jawed into the sea of adolescent dreams. Many of them were clothed and seated at tables, eating food with orange polka-dots and purple fuzz, as though these were normal colors for food. Others were in their underwear, and some with nothing at all, doing zero-gravity acrobatics through the air. Jason noticed Darlene and Len were staring at him.
“What?”
“Is this what goes on at your school?” said Darlene.
“What do you think?”
“I’m not sure.”
“The teen mind is a strange place,” said Len. “Especially asleep.”
They stepped out into the cafeteria, careful to skirt the sea of adolescents. Jason’s gaze flicked here and there, keeping a watch for Leech or Talshe. Even in this mass of bodies, he’d be able to spot either of his nightmares. Of course, there was also the real reason he wanted to come here.
They skirted the edge, and exited into a hallway to their right. There were kids here too, but not quite as many as in the cafeteria. Jason turned forward and strode away. Darlene and Len called and chased after him. They didn’t have to chase him far, though, for to their right, a bulletin board eclipsed an entire wall. It clearly displayed all of its content without disparity, though a lot of the papers tacked to it were either blank or incoherent. Jason’s shoulders drooped. The pressure throbbed at the back of his head; the liquid stone trickled into his arms.
“Jason, you okay?” said Darlene.
“What’s wrong?” said Len.
But Jason didn’t answer. He rushed away, cutting around a corner, nearly bulldozing a teen couple in the middle of a heavy make-out session. Darlene and Len chased after him. They called his name, but he didn’t stop. Not until he found the exit near the gymnasium. He searched along the walls, inspecting the floor and ceiling, checking under the gym’s doors and the exit’s. He started from the beginning of the hall and checked again. But he couldn’t find it. Tara Engel’s picture was missing. Not just from this hall, but from the bulletin board, as well.
“She’s not here,” he muttered, half-aware of Len and Darlene at his side.
Darlene gripped his shoulder and said, “Who’s not here?”
“Don’t they dream of her? Don’t they miss her? Is this my curse, then? To see her when everyone else has forgotten? To drown, drown, drown…”
Len pressed her lips into a hard line. Her face looked ten years older with realiz
ation. She raised her hand, and rocked it across Jason’s face, his head snapping to the side. He glanced up at Len, his mouth hanging open like a fish’s.
“You brought us here, all because you wanted to see if she was here. Why? Isn’t it bad enough that she’s constantly on your mind? Why does she have to be on everyone else’s?”
Jason dropped his gaze, but Len gripped the scruff of his shirt and forced him to look her in the eyes. “Answer me, McKinney. Next time I hit you, it’ll be with a fist.”
Darlene’s eyes darted between Len and Jason. She lifted a hand, then dropped it. Her gaze settled on Jason, whose eyes appeared glazed and vacated. He looked up, and their eyes met. He stared at her for a few moments. He could feel the pressure at the back of his head. The liquid stone was filling him. He could whisper ‘forth’ and free himself from it all. He could apologize and take responsibility. The pressure buzzed inside his skull now.
He cracked a grin, a nasty grin that nearly stretched to his ears.
“You’re one to talk, Dream Catcher,” he said. His eyes rolled to Len, and his smile grew wider. “After all, who occupies your mind? Your parents. Their murderer.”
“That’s different. This isn’t about them or the Guardian.”
“Oh, but it is. At least,” and he flicked his gaze back to Darlene, “part of it is.”
Len opened her mouth to say something, but stopped. Squinting, she got a good look at Darlene, as though for the first time. Her grip loosened, and she dropped Jason to the floor. She stepped closer to Darlene, who lowered her face. Len gently lifted Darlene’s chin, and gazed into her emerald eyes. Len’s hand dropped away, as did her face. Darlene reached out, but Len threw up a hand to stop her. She turned back to Jason. The grin was still present on his face.
“Jason,” she said, “I think it’s funny.”
“It’s very funny.”
Len smirked. “I think it’s funny how you can help so many. You mentor children. You go and apologize to Darlene for calling her a dike. For some reason, you helped that girl and that boy. A different person wouldn’t care. A truly heartless person might drop it and just walk away.” She dropped to her knees and reached for the flute in her belt. “Which is why I’ve come to believe this isn’t you. You’re being controlled.”
“Cute. Have any other clever ideas?”
Len put the flute to her lips and played. The melody lacing the air was slow. Heavy. It rested upon Jason like fall leaves, yet like snow. He couldn’t even hold his head up. But the smile remained, and he could still move his eyes.
“Ooh, a restraining spell! How wonderful! Just going to leave me here for the giant? Great idea. Just get rid of what you can’t handle.”
The song continued. Something kicked and screamed at the back of his mind. But he pushed it back. A cloud of smoke formed above his head. Len glanced back over her shoulder at Darlene, who was busy punching away at her cell phone. She, too, prepared a spell. Jason laughed.
“You think this is going to stop me? You can’t erase the truth with your magic!”
Darlene looked up from her phone, unsure if she should continue.
“Keep going,” said Len.
Darlene’s fingers resumed their tapping, and the cloud above Jason’s head hardened and materialized. It took an oval shape, with edges of polished crystal, the center a whirlpool of smoky glass. Darlene clicked the final time, and the oval glowed bright, making Jason wince.
“Ha! What is this? A puny little…”
His face froze as he stared up into the glass oval, into his own reflection—a mirror.
He stared at his reflection, at the grotesque smile across his lips. It looked familiar, somehow. The kicking and screaming at the back of his head made it hard to think. But that was okay. He was in control, not some stupid pressure, not some stupid—
Something in the mirror. He blinked and missed it, but now he examined his reflection closely. The screaming. The pressure. It was different somehow.
No, it’s the same as ever. Just let it be. Wait, what’s that on my cheek? Nothing. A zit, maybe. No. It’s something green. I might have an infection.
You’re letting that Thing win, Jason.
The kicking and screaming grew silent, and the smile on his face disappeared. Now he stared into a face drawn in horror. The pressure seized the back of his skull in an iron grip. He arched his neck back, his spine crackling and popping. A hoarse scream tore from his mouth as flashes of green flesh and pearly-white teeth darted across his mind’s eye.
“The Thing!” he shouted. “It’s in my head! Get it out! Please! Dig it out of my skull!”
Darlene and Len stooped on either side of him, but didn’t try to restrain him. Instead, Darlene looked up at Len. “Play something relaxing. We have to calm him.”
Jason jerked and writhed, the back of his head thudding against the linoleum floor. Len lifted the flute to her lips and played a soft tune. The melody seemed to cradle Jason, patting his head, rubbing his stomach. He struggled, but his thrashing slowed, his hysterical screams softened into babyish sobs. Even these ceased as silent tears broke across his cheeks. Mouth slightly agape, Jason lay there, his eyes fixed upon the ceiling, ears fixed upon the melody.
He remembered his mom, and he remembered the lullaby that went with tune Len played:
Train man,
train man,
ring your bells.
Let your whistle blow.
Train man,
train man,
I hear the wheels,
so let’s go, go, go.
Darlene smiled and looked at Len, but her smile faded. Len’s eyes had garnered a watery sheen. With one blink, rivers streaked down the sides of her broad face. She wrenched her eyes shut, which only squeezed more tears out. Once finished, Len set the flute in her lap. The tears streamed faster down her face. Darlene reached up and gripped Len’s shoulder. Len peeked at Darlene through her gray bangs, her bottom lip quivering. She closed her eyes again. Darlene didn’t say anything else. Instead, she pulled Len into a hug. Len sobbed warm stains into Darlene’s hoody; Darlene smoothed Len’s wild gray locks down the length of her back. Behind them Jason stirred. Darlene turned to look at him, but stopped halfway.
Just down the hall, rushing through a crowd of half-naked, screaming teens, Leech scrambled to a halt. It growled, and Jason snapped his head in the beast’s direction.
“We have to get outta here,” said Darlene. “C’mon, Len. Gettup, time to go. Jason, help me—”
Jason stood, and faced Leech down. The crimson hound growled louder, its voice reverberating off the tile. Darlene stared with wide eyes. Len still sobbed into her chest.
Jason raised a hand and pointed a finger at the hound. “I’ve seen you before. I remember now.”
Leech stomped its front paws and barked.
“Jason, what’re you doing?” said Darlene. “Let’s go!”
Jason stepped toward Leech. “No, Darlene. You don’t get it. You weren’t around. Not then. But…years ago, there was an earthquake. And on that night I saw Leech and Talshe.”
Darlene opened her mouth to reply, but no words came. Leech’s nails clicked against the tile as it pushed off and jetted forward, mouth agape. Its shark-teeth whirred inside its body like a blender. With only a couple yards separating them, the hound lunged at Jason, who lifted his arm.
“Jason, stop!” called Len, finally aware of the situation.
The dog toppled Jason, and together they rolled. Arm still inside the dog, Jason grasped for the charm around his neck. Jason had it in his hand when the hound scraped one of its claws across arm. The charm fell and was crushed under one of the hound’s hind paws. Blood dribbling down his arm, Jason looked up into Leech’s featureless face. It grunted and straddled him, his right arm wedged deep inside the monster’s throat. At any moment, those razor-sharp teeth would start spinning. The flesh would tear from muscle and sinew. Then tendon from bone. Jason would probably pass out from pain and bloodloss be
fore the hound even finished.
Leech adjusted again, then let out a rumbling gurgle. A few moments passed.
Then a burst of light erupted from within Leech. Jason wrenched his eyes shut, but could still see the light through his eyelids. After a moment, the light faded. Jason opened his eyes to see a cloud of golden dust that settled upon him like ash, then seeped into his flesh, into his soul. Leech was gone; Jason had absorbed it. He sat up, staring at his right arm in amazement. The wounds and blood were gone, and he felt more alive somehow. He felt healthier, happier, hungrier. He closed his eyes, and Jason clearly saw the night, nearly ten years ago, when Leech first leapt from his body and, along with Talshe and the twins, terrorized Sheriffsburg.
Darlene hugged him from behind, thanking God that Jason was alive and all right. He turned even further and saw Len leaning against the wall, tucking her flute away. She looked at him, and he felt guilty. He wanted to say something, but Len placed a finger to her lips.
The building shook. Yelps and screams went up from the nearby students. But the loudest commotion came from just above Jason, Len, and Darlene. The roof flew away from the building and in its place, Talshe appeared, her glimmering teeth revealed in a triumphant smile.
SIXTEEN
They darted for the door, just avoiding Talshe’s hooked fingers. The giant’s voice rumbled through his bones: “Jason McKinney! You will melt inside me!”
Outside, Len led them across the street toward a crowd of tall apartment buildings. It eerily reminded Jason of the abandoned industrial district below the bridge. Talshe’s footfall thundered behind them, and Jason told himself not to look back. A faint sense of remembrance rose from the bottom of his chest.
This happened before, when Talshe and the others attacked Sheriffsburg.
Len and Darlene ducked into an alleyway, but just before Jason could follow, the road bucked beneath him and skyrocketed. He flattened against the pavement and hoped no drivers would squish him. The road jerked to a stop, tossing Jason into the air. He thudded on the edge of the road. Any farther and he would’ve plummeted to his death. He scrambled away from the edge, not stopping until he was in the center. His chest heaved as he glanced around. No one else was on the road with him; not a soul flew above him. Beside his heart, he heard only one thing: hngh, huuh, hngh, huuh. In, out, in, out.