by Castle, Jack
“No choice, here we go,” he said to no one in particular.
Wally reached up with his left hand, grasped the handle of the knife firmly in his hand and, after a few quick controlled breaths, pulled the knife from his eye. As soon as he did, he flung the blade aside and was only vaguely aware of it clattering across the floor. He immediately pressed his hand against his left orbit and tried to stem the flow of blood. Groaning he sat up and scanned the room with his one good eye.
He grabbed a towel off the bar and pressed it to his left eye. “Man, I hope this towel is clean.”
(Really? That’s what you’re worried about?)
With his one remaining eye, he spied the knife on the floor. He knew he needed a weapon. It was ludicrous to leave the only weapon left to him but try as he might he just couldn’t bring himself to grab it. It was as though the thing was tainted with pure evil. And he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not but he thought he saw a dark presence oozing off the blade.
He nearly tripped over Elaine’s still form. As soon as he saw the old woman he gave her wide berth. But if she were dead, where was Becca? He had to find her.
Mister Wally, you know what you need to do now, don’t you?
“What?” Wally spun around but there was no one there. And now that he thought about it, did anyone really speak out loud to him? The Voice in his head hadn’t been really a voice at all. More like a presence, like a father walking up behind a young son. But the voice felt good, and kind. If Wally had to guess the voice was male, and young and old at the same time, like those young people you meet who have an old soul.
(Oh C’mon. Really? Now? Does anybody know who this kid is?)
You know what you need to do, Mister Wally.
And you know what? Wally did know exactly what to do. He was a fireman after all.
(I’m confused. Donnie and Mike are out of the picture. The dog certainly didn’t learn to talk. So who is this new Voice?)
(Is it you? It’s you, isn’t it?)
(I have to go. I’ve got other things that need my attention. I shall now make my departure post haste.)
(I’m back)
Chapter 39
Wally the Fireman
“Wally, you’re alive!”
Clutching her ruined hand, Becca pushed herself through the lobby’s main doors and stumbled over the thick mounds of snow that had accumulated there. For the past hour she had been playing a desperate game of Cat-and-Mouse with Big Leonard in the Motel, but she was pretty sure she had lost him in the interior parking lot. The sun hadn’t risen and the night sky was still overcast with clouds blocking out the stars and moon, but the storm had completely abated. She spied Wally over by the gas pumps beneath the lighted canopy. His eye had been crudely bandaged and he was holding a fireman’s ax. It appeared as though he had smashed all but one of the gas pumps.
Had he gone mad, like Spence?
“Wally,” she shouted again, tripping over the rolling hills of snow while trying to reach him. He trained his one good eye on her for a second, chuckled, and then resumed his work.
“What are you…”
Wally finished smashing up the last gas pump. Fuel was now leaking everywhere. Breathing hard Wally held the ax in his hands and said, “One of the last things Calvin said to me before he died was throughout history the only thing that killed these things for certain was fire. I’ve turned on all the natural gas mains in the kitchen, the lobby, and opened up all the propane tanks and placed them all over the motel.” He gestured with his head toward the walls of the motel. Now that she was looking for them, Becca could see propane tanks lined around the front entrance and all the walls.
“Will it work?”
Hefting the ax he made a derisive noise. “Are you kidding, I’m surprised all this hasn’t blown us sky high already.” He put the ax down and removed a dirt-covered flare from one of his many cargo pockets. Holding it up to her he said, “This is the only one left I could find. Let’s hope it works.” He then laid the flare on top of one of the outside pumps and explained, “All we need to do is light this trail of gasoline leading back to the propane tanks and…”
“BECCA!” Big Leonard roared. “Becca, I’m coming for you!”
Wally’s face beamed with recognition. “Is that?”
Becca rested her good hand on his forearm. “Yeah, but not anymore.”
Wally’s smile faded. “Aw crap. Him, too?”
“We’re all that’s left. What do we do?”
“Help me make a trail in the snow over to the gas tanks. Whatever you do, don’t make a spark, or Big Leonard is the least of our problems.”
Becca started digging a trench in the snow with the heel of her boot, and almost immediately fuel began to flow into her crudely constructed trench. She lifted her eyes for a moment and then realized something was missing. “Where’s the ambulance?”
“Dunno. It was gone when I got out here. Maybe one of the tour bus people took it. It had a full tank so I’m sure they are long gone by now.”
Anger swelled up inside her. “How much do you want to bet it was Peyton? We haven’t seen her since we saw her on the security cameras.”
When Wally didn’t answer she turned around and saw Big Leonard, who seemed even bigger now, rising up behind him. She cried out a warning but Wally must’ve seen the look of sheer terror on her face for he was already dodging out of the way of Big Leonard’s swinging mallet.
“Hello… MEATBAGS!!!” Then hefting his mallet he added, “Big Leonard’s got a present for you!”
(Meatbags--priceless. Glad I stuck this out)
Wally dodged two more wide-arcing swings but Big Leonard was moving far swifter than any mortal ever could have, and with Wally in his weakened state, Becca knew it wouldn’t be long before Leonard finished him off.
Holding his ax with two hands on either end of the handle like a bo staff, Wally blocked two more chops from Big Leonard. A third blow ripped the ax from his grasp. Wally ducked another swipe from Leonard’s mallet and the steel bludgeon took a chunk of concrete out of the post behind him. Wally went to maneuver clear again but slipped on the ice and fell on the narrow median between the pumps. Leonard had him cornered and they both knew it.
Becca lunged for a broken gas pump hose and holding it like a garden hose she sprayed fuel in Leonard’s eyes.
Big Leonard dropped his mallet and roared in anguish. When Becca rushed over and attempted to help Wally to his feet Leonard plucked her out of the air and lifted her high over his head.
“Leonard… don’t!” Becca begged.
Her pleas went unanswered and Big Leonard tossed her across the gas station with both hands. Becca flew through the air, landed painfully on the pavement, and slid several more feet across the ice.
Feeling like every bone in her body was broken, her back spasming, she could only watch as Big Leonard grabbed Wally and lifted what was left of him up to eye level. “I’m going to break every bone in your body before I kill you. Then I’m going to find your two sons and do the same thing to them.”
All fight gone from him, Wally could only dangle in the big man’s grasp.
“Hey!”
When Big Leonard turned toward her, and Wally managed to loll his head around to face her, both men saw that she was now holding Wally’s last flare at the ready. A trail of fuel glistened in a narrow trench in the snow twenty feet away and ended at her feet. “Let him go, Big Leonard!”
The powerful lineman drew in a deep breath and roared back, “NO! YOU WON’T DO IT BECAUSE WALLY WILL BURN!”
Becca removed the cap and lit the flare with it, but she still couldn’t bring herself to ignite the fuel, and Wally along with it.
“You have to do it, Becca!” Wally mumbled with his last ounce of strength.
“But you’ll both die.”
“No choice.”
Becca heard a crash and the sound of breaking glass. Risking a quick glance at the motel she saw more of the possessed tourists ex
iting the lobby and running toward her.
Seeing this, Wally shouted, “Now, Becca, do it now, before it’s too late!”
Becca dropped the lit flare into the trench filled with fuel. The flames flew down the trail and in seconds hit the pools over by the pumps.
Becca didn’t see this, for she was already diving for cover, but in those last few seconds, Big Leonard’s eyes had changed back to normal. “Wally, save the boy,” he said to him, and then with a considerable amount of strength, he tossed Wally clear of the explosion.
The pumps exploded, enveloping everything all at once and causing the canopy to rise up like a rocket. After only a few moments of ascension, the flaming wreckage collapsed back down on Big Leonard. The flames must have ignited the fuel trench leading to the motel, because the motel, lounge, garage, everything went up in several more massive explosions. Becca only had the merest of glimpses of the tourists still running toward her before they were immediately consumed by flames.
The concussion knocked her flat, but thankfully the snow cushioned her fall. Holding her ruined hand, she pulled herself to her knees and saw the still form of Wally. Despite Big Leonard’s best efforts, Wally had been too close to the explosion and his unconscious form was in flames. Becca struggled to her feet, removed her own coat, and began beating the flames from his legs. In time, she had put out all the flames, and thanks to his fire-retardant firefighter clothes most of the burns he sustained in the explosion were superficial (Says you. Have you ever been on fire? Well I have. For a very long time. And it hurts. A lot).
When Wally finally began to come around she said, “C’mon, fireplug, we best create some safe distance before anything else blows up.” She helped him rise to his feet. Wally only groaned in response as he slung one of his arms over her shoulders and the two of them hobbled away from the burning buildings and out onto the highway.
As Becca cradled her smashed hand to her chest with Wally’s arm over her shoulders to keep him standing, they watched in silence as the motel continued to burn to the ground. As promised, even the diner across the street and the nearby mechanic’s garage were all on the same gas line system. Everything had gone up in smoke leaving only smoldering debris and scorched snow in its wake.
With the ambulance gone, there was nothing left to them now; the buildings were completely razed to the ground. The flames were already beginning to die down, and once the last of the warmth burned out, so would they. Stranded on a desolate highway, in the middle of the Dakota Badlands, in the middle of a harsh winter, freezing to death was a certainty.
Becca took some comfort in the fact that the Demons, Revenants, or whatever you want to call them, would cease to exist in this world right along with them.
Rapid City was over a hundred-and-fifty miles away, and Sioux Falls over two hundred. In this frigid cold, busted up as badly as they were, it might as well have been a hundred million. They couldn’t walk more than a few steps, let alone the hundreds of miles to the next city.
It was over.
“You guys need a lift?”
Thanks to the ringing in her ears, and her bad hearing to begin with, Becca didn’t hear the vehicle roll up behind them. She turned her and Wally around and saw a smiling Peyton sitting behind the wheel of the puttering ambulance.
“Peyton… is that really you?” Becca asked.
Peyton smiled in a way that no Revenant ever really could. “Big Leonard told me you’d ask me that. He said for me to tell you,” and doing a passable Big Leonard voice she said, “you tell Becca that Big Leonard says get your asses in the ambulance before you freeze to death.” And once she was done with her impression that same girlish smile returned. And Becca felt as though maybe she was seeing the real Peyton for the very first time.
(Huh, Both Peyton and Wally lived. I did not see that coming. Oh wait, there’s another chapter. Well, you know how these things go)
Turning her head toward her charge Becca asked, “What do you think, Wally?”
“I say get in the damn ambulance. I’m freezing my butt off over here.”
Epilogue
Rapid City
Traveling west, they drove down I-90 toward Rapid City.
As much as it pained her to leave behind her Land Rover, they wouldn’t be able to drive it very far with the front windshield missing. And that was assuming they would be able to flip it over with the utility winch on the front bumper and siphon gas from the ambulance and fire truck. It pained her to think about her restored classic lying there, upside down, blanketed with snow. With her gun now little more than a melted pile of junk, the rover had been her last remembrance of Mike. Now, her labor of love was just another waypoint on a road map of horror.
As soon as they left the motel, and with Peyton at the wheel, Wally managed to set her broken fingers and put her mangled hand into a splint. She refused morphine because she wanted to keep her wits about her until they made it to Rapid City, but the painkillers certainly made everything tolerable, including her back. In turn, and under Wally’s direction, Becca cleaned out Wally’s eye and redressed the wound. Staring at their tattered and bloody clothes, scratches, and mortal wounds Becca thought, We look like a couple of war victims who just survived a major battle, which in a way, she supposed they had. And more importantly, she recognized the voice in her head as her own.
About the time she finished redressing Wally’s wounds Peyton said she was too tired to drive anymore so she and Wally took the front while Peyton climbed into the back. Becca assured Wally she had lots of experience of driving with painkillers in her system and slid behind the wheel. Wally was too tired to argue with her, and slowly slid into the passenger seat. Nobody said it, but this was more than just driving from a remote motel back to town. They hadn’t even gone two miles down the road before he too fell asleep with his head buried in his jacket tucked against the window.
Before he had dozed off she had told Wally that if she saw anyone in the road they’d best get the hell out of the way, because she wouldn’t so much as swerve this time. That’s what had gotten her into trouble the first place. Thankfully, no hitchhikers were forthcoming on the side of the road; not even the three ghosts she had seen earlier. At the very-very least, she liked to believe Mike, Champ, Big Leonard, and the others, were all finally at rest.
Becca drove onward through the darkness for another ninety minutes with Peyton stretched out on the stretcher under an emergency blanket and Wally zonked out beside her in the passenger seat.
A few dead hulks in the form of tractor trailers had pulled over by the side of the road during the storm. One truck still had his door left open, and other vehicles had their windows smashed out, but now all seemed like ghost ships marooned in the snow. Becca didn’t even have to venture a guess as to what happened to the occupants. Who knew how far reaching the effects of the motel had truly been.
About thirty miles outside of Rapid City Peyton woke up, poked her head over the seat, and asked her if she had tried the radio. Becca had felt like an idiot for not thinking of trying the radio sooner. Turning the knob they got nothing but static on both AM and FM.
“Do you think everyone’s off the air?” Peyton asked. “Is everyone gone but us?”
Before she could panic further, Wally mumbled with his eyes still closed, “It doesn’t mean anything, Peyton. I normally don’t get a signal out here anyway. Still not opening his eyes he said, “Go back to sleep. We’ll wake you when we get there.”
Peyton didn’t object. She lay back down on the stretcher, pulled the warm blanket to her chin, and dozed off again.
The last thirty miles or so were the worst. Becca was convinced something was going to leap out of the darkness--rabid ravens, a pack of coyotes, a crazed fireman, or even a giant octopus. (Sure, an octopus, why not?) Becca could only pray they would make it the rest of the way to Rapid City. They had already been through so much; she doubted she could take anymore.
Then they were there. No fanfare or streamers. Only a p
lain, wooden and nondescript sign to greet them in white lettering:
WELCOME TO RAPID CITY
And within a few minutes more they arrived. They had made it. Their long nightmare was over. And Becca was confident that soon, the crazy celestial event that scientists would be able to expertly explain would be over, and it would be dawn once more. The sun would be shining, birds would be singing, and they’d have a whole lot of explaining to do to the cops.
Becca took the ambulance around the bend in the road and as she arrived up over the hill they could see Rapid City for the first time.
She brought the rig to a halt before the heavily cracked pavement in the road. Whatever Rapid City used to be, it was no more. The entire town had sunk into the ground as though it had collapsed in a series of giant sinkholes.
Becca put the ambulance in park and got out to fully survey the damage below. Wally and Peyton, wrapped up in her emergency blanket, soon joined her. Moving as close to the cracked edge as they dared they could see where the pavement had split in multiple places, swallowing up entire city blocks, buildings, cars, and people.
For several minutes no one spoke. Becca could see where a traffic light, still flashing red, had fallen over on a cop car and where a school bus, with its rear in the air, had nose-dived into a four foot deep pot-hole like some deranged Kamikaze pilot. A massive dump truck was half-submerged in water in the middle of the street and the top half was still on fire. Water flowed onto the street from a broken water line, forming small ponds everywhere, some as big as lakes. And worst of all, they didn’t see a single living soul moving about.