Ruthie stepped forward and crouched down in front of him. “Why rot in some mental hospital when you can be reborn?”
“Love, faith and free will,” he said. “Remember, Ruthie? You can’t take them from me. I have to give them to you, and I won’t. You hear me? I won’t. Not ever.”
“You’re already infected, just let it go. Set it free.” Ruthie smiled. “It’s so easy.”
Doctor Farrow rose from her chair, put the pad and pen aside. “It’s all about bridging the gap from here,” she said, pointing to her temple, “to here.” She made a slow sweeping gesture with her hand, indicating everything around her, the world.
“You can have anything you want,” Jacobs said. “More money, a better position with the company, better place to live—it’s all right there for us to reach out and take, Seth, don’t you see? It’s our time now. We can have and do anything we want.”
“What about everyone else?”
“Long as we get ours,” Jacobs said, his ridiculous grin finally leaving him, “fuck ‘em.”
Seth could only hope the sickness he felt in the pit of his stomach translated to the look on his face as he glared at his former boss. “It’s not such a big leap for all of us, is it, Bill?”
“Forget him then,” Ruthie said, moving her hands seductively across her body, down onto his knees and then Seth’s thighs. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. You always tried so hard to look like you didn’t notice me or think of me that way, but I could tell. I could tell how much you wanted me, and it’s OK.”
Seth glanced at Darian. He smiled encouragingly. “Do it.”
Ruthie stood before him, offering her hands. “Come on, it’s easy.”
He hesitantly reached out, took her hands and allowed her to gradually pull him to his feet. He stood there awkwardly, as Ruthie pulled him closer, wrapping her arms around him as Doctor Farrow and Darian watched.
“Think about how you feel,” Ruthie whispered in his ear. “Think about all the things you want to do with me…to me. Just close your eyes and think about it. The violence and anger you feel is good, OK? Let it go, set it free, use it, give it over to them.”
Doctor Farrow moved closer, reached out and ran a hand along Seth’s back. “Let them out,” she whispered. “Let them out, Seth.”
Seth looked at her and nodded slowly, submissively.
Then in one quick move, pivoted around, scooped the pen from the chair where Doctor Farrow had left it, and stabbed it down into Ruthie’s face.
He didn’t realize he’d buried it halfway into her eye until she began to scream and staggered back, the pen protruding from her socket.
Seth grabbed the chair and swung it at Darian, slamming it into his head before he had time to react. It connected with an odd clanging sound as it bounced off his skull, and Darian collapsed into the bureau then tumbled to the floor.
Whirling like a dervish, chair still in hand, Seth swung it around and smashed it into Doctor Farrow. It hit her with such force he felt the impact reverberate up his arms and into his hands as the chair flew free of his grasp and crashed into the far wall.
Doctor Farrow left her feet and vaulted back, eyeglasses and one high-heeled pump sailing into the air before she landed, flopping onto her back a few feet away. Lying motionless, her eyes rolled back to white and a trickle of blood leaked across her face from a wound beyond her hairline, the crimson hue contrasting with her blonde hair.
Though the entire thing had taken only a matter of seconds, it unfolded in nearly silent slow-motion.
Until Ruthie’s screaming snapped him back.
She had dropped to her knees and was screaming unintelligibly, hands clutching the pen embedded in her eye as blood and other matter ran from it like water from a faucet.
Realizing what he’d done, Seth’s stomach twisted and he nearly vomited.
Ignoring the nausea, he ran for the door in an attempt to gain as much momentum as possible. Just as Mr. Gordon stepped quickly into the room, Seth squared his shoulder and launched himself toward the doorway.
They collided with a sickening thud, and Seth felt himself drive through the man, ignoring the pain and impact, his feet still under him somehow and moving, running, carrying him forward as Gordon, off-balance and caught off-guard, received the brunt, taking Seth’s shoulder in the chest. In a continuous frenzied run, Seth knocked him out of the way and ran right over him, sending him sprawling to the floor.
On pure adrenaline, he ran through the apartment, out the door and continued at a full run until he’d reached the street.
It was no longer snowing but the storm from the day before had left an enormous amount of accumulation on the city streets. Much of it had yet to be sufficiently plowed, but that which had was pushed into mountainous drifts on either side of the street that helped to provide him some cover. The temperature had plummeted since the last time he’d been outside, and the cold hit him like a sledgehammer, particularly since he was without a coat. Regardless, he pressed on, still running but a bit slower now and checking back over his shoulder every few seconds until he’d put several blocks between himself and Ruthie’s building.
But even when he shifted to a brisk walking pace, he realized he had no money, no car keys and no means of doing much of anything but walking.
The city streets were nearly empty, and quieter than usual, locked down and barren after what had turned out to be a fairly major snowstorm. His destination was a long walk from where he was, particularly in those conditions and in that temperature. It would take him a while, but he felt he could reach the banks of the Charles River well within the timeframe he’d given Peggy if he kept a steady pace and didn’t encounter any other roadblocks.
And, of course, if Peggy had done as he’d asked.
There was still hope while she was alive and not afflicted.
You’re already infected, Ruthie had told him.
But that was no longer Ruthie. Something like Ruthie, or maybe just one part of her, of what she’d once been, the rest destroyed and devoured, gone.
The endless white everywhere reminded him of the forest, of that night. Things flashed in his mind, but he could not be distracted now, could not remember now. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and hurried on, fighting them off with one goal and one goal only.
He had to find Peggy. It was his only chance…their only chance.
And probably the last one they’d ever get.
CHAPTER 34
The Longfellow Bridge spans the Charles River and connects Cambridge to the city of Boston. On this cold day, the river was calm, its normal glistening beauty and vibrancy replaced with a look and feel of deserted inertia. The normal steady traffic associated with the bridge was absent, and even in the distance it—along with the rest of Boston’s skyline—was dressed in white. Seth could’ve been the last person on Earth, there on the banks of the Charles, amongst the barren trees and long stretches of snow-covered ground, as the area had taken on an uncharacteristically apocalyptic look, frozen and bleak.
Bound by the surreal sights, sounds and feelings the icy landscape produced in him, he could do nothing to stop the frenzied cries from that night in the forest a year before from returning. Frantic cries, not quite human, had surged through the trees surrounding him as he fell to his knees in a clearing ringed by enormous trees. Snow had blown about as the sky shook and burst apart, showering the darkness down around him like water from a bucket, drowning him, pulling him under, down into its depths of its mass until he and it were one.
Seth closed his eyes. A violent shiver throttled him.
The visions retreated, and as he opened his eyes and returned to the world, through the swirling clouds of breath encircling him with each exhale, he saw Peggy’s car pull into one of the nearby parking spaces adjacent to the park. He was so cold he could barely feel his hands and feet, and his shivering had become so violent his muscles had begun to tire from it. But he remained concealed behind a tree, watching the bright y
ellow Volkswagen Bug idling in the space, its startling color standing out on the otherwise drab landscape like a neon sign. He could see Peggy behind the wheel and Petey in the passenger seat.
She looked around for a moment then rather hesitantly stepped out of the car.
Dressed in a heavy coat, boots and a big knit hat, she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. She scanned the area subtly, and as she turned in his direction, Seth stepped out from behind the tree.
She saw him immediately and began moving toward him with a look of deep concern, her boots crunching the frozen top layer of snow. “Are you all right? You scared the shit out of me with that phone call, I—where’s your coat? You’ll freeze to death out here dressed like…” She came to a slow stop once she was within a few feet of him. “Is that blood?”
He looked down, saw a small bit of blood spattered there he hadn’t noticed before. Ruthie’s blood. “It’s OK—it…” Her screams echoed in his mind, along with the horrible crunching and squishing sounds of the pen bursting into her eye. “It’s all right.”
“What happened to your face?”
“My face…”
“Did you get into a fight? You’ve got to be kidding, that’s beyond juvenile.”
He hadn’t seen himself in a mirror in some time, but apparently the beating he’d suffered had left visible marks as well as the aches and pains he’d been feeling since returning to consciousness. “I had some trouble, a couple guys mugged me and—”
“Mugged you? Jesus, are you all right?”
“Yeah, I—it doesn’t matter, I—are you alone?” he asked, still watching over her shoulder.
“Petey’s with me.” She motioned in the direction of the car.
Seth managed a weak smile. “Does anyone know you’re here?”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.”
“Where are you staying?”
“A motel, like you said. Despite my better judgment, I did as you asked.”
“Thanks for coming through, Peg.”
“You’re welcome.” She crossed her arms. “Now maybe if it’s not too much of an inconvenience you could see your way clear to letting me in on just what in the fuck is going on!”
He nodded, watching her, gauging her. “Did you talk to Doctor Farrow?”
“Your psychiatrist? Why would I talk to her?”
“You didn’t hear from her then?”
“Was I supposed to?”
She looked like herself, but then so had Ruthie. “I thought she might’ve tried to contact you.”
“If she did it was after I left the house. Why would she be contacting me?”
He stepped a bit closer. “Should I let them out, Peggy?”
A look of confusion joined the frustration already present in her expression. “Let who out where? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Thank God,” he said through a heavy sigh. “Thank God, thank God.”
“Why would Doctor Farrow contact me? Did something happen?”
“She’s a part of it now.”
Peggy shrugged. “She’s a part of what now?”
He looked out at the water, and to one particular patch of snowy ground. Though the cold made his eyes tear, he could still recall blurry images of standing with Peggy in that precise spot—so much younger then, so full of hope and love—her face so bright and happy, eyes wide and slowly filling with tears as Seth, grinning from ear-to-ear, took the ring from his pocket and slowly dropped to one knee.
Peggy followed his stare then looked back at him, the cold causing her eyes to tear as well. Or perhaps it wasn’t the cold at all.
“It was a whole different world then, wasn’t it,” he said softly.
“The world’s the same as it’s always been,” she told him. “It’s people who change.”
He went to her and they embraced much as they had so many years before, the steady pulse of her breath against his cheek and her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. “What’s this all about, Seth?” she whispered. “Please, I can’t take anymore of this.”
She smelled good—familiar and safe—and her body felt strong and warm and perfect against his own. The rollercoaster ride that were his emotions took another quick turn, and he quickly kissed Peggy, first on the lips and then on the forehead, holding her face in his hands and looking deep into her eyes. “We have to get out of here,” he said. “How far is the motel?”
“Little over half an hour, it’s just a small roadside place in Kingston.”
“Take me there,” he said wearily, “and I’ll remember.”
“Remember?”
Seth let his eyes wander about the small park. Memories of the night at the cabin came at him again, attacking him, and he could no longer stop them. But then, he no longer wanted to. He reached out, gently wiped a tear from her cheek. “Take me there and I’ll tell you everything.”
With a heavy sigh, Peggy took his hand and slowly led him back toward the car.
CHAPTER 35
Seth emerged from the bathroom, one towel fastened around his waist and another draped over his neck. Though his body still ached, the hot shower had helped, and had served to clear his head somewhat.
The motel was a small, one-story, unremarkable series of connected rooms on a rural road a few moments from the highway. Though Kingston was only one town over from where she resided in Plymouth, Peggy had made a solid choice by renting a room here, Seth thought. The room was close enough to the highway if escape became necessary, but also secluded enough to provide a sufficiently clandestine hideout.
Peggy was at the window, gazing out at the parking lot, which was empty but for her car. When Seth stepped out of the bathroom she let the curtain close, and the level of darkness in the room swelled, as with the curtains drawn the only light came from the television, which was tuned to an old black-and-white movie, the sound turned down. “I think we might be the only people staying here,” she said.
“Good.” Seth went to her, kissed her lightly on the cheek then moved to the bed and sat down at its foot. He glanced at the TV. John Garfield and Lana Turner were locked in a primal embrace, the picture casting beams of contrasting light that played across the walls and floor in odd, ghostly patterns. He watched the movie a moment. It was one of his favorites, The Postman Always Rings Twice. Garfield and Turner kissed with abandon, unaware that they were doomed, the walking dead.
Seth glanced at his wife, curious if they ought to feel the same.
You can’t win, Raymond had told him.
Maybe not, he thought, but I can remember.
“Peggy,” he said softly, “I need to tell you about Raymond.”
She looked at him, nodded.
“He’s dead.”
She brought a hand to her throat. “Raymond’s dead?”
He fought back the tears, cleared his throat loudly. “He, Nana and Rolf are all dead.”
“My God, what—what happened?”
“The papers will say it was all an accident, a gas leak in Nana’s home that led to an explosion.” He took the towel from his neck, slung it over his head and began to rub his hair dry. “But suicide is probably closer to the truth.”
Peggy’s face reached a new depth of paleness but she stood awkwardly still. “I don’t—what—Seth, what are you talking about? They killed themselves? Why would they do that?”
They watched him now from the shadows in his mind as well, vague and indistinct, like the faces of his parents, faded from this reality and already absorbed into another. Quiet sentinels seeing everything…and nothing at all.
“How do I tell you the world’s gone crazy and that there’s a good chance you and I could be one of only a handful of sane people left?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” he sighed. “But it’s happening, Peg. Not like in novels or the movies, but it is happening.”
“What’s happening, Seth? What?”
“When you and I were still
together,” he said, “and I went on the trip to the cabin with Darian and Louis…something happened out there, Peg, in the woods, something I couldn’t remember, and that I’m still remembering even now.”
“You weren’t the same when you came back,” she said. “I tried to reach you, God knows I did, but you wouldn’t talk to me.”
“I had trouble sleeping and I was having these terrible nightmares, I—I was on edge and—”
“Rage, Seth, that’s what it’s called,” she said flatly. “You’d fly into these rages and it scared the hell out of me because that wasn’t you, it wasn’t the man I knew and loved.”
“I was…changed.”
“Yes,” she said, not yet understanding what she was agreeing to. “And those changes led to our separation, and you know it. We had some problems before that trip, but your behavior after you got back became too much for me to deal with. I loved you then and I love you still, you know that, but you were impossible.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so goddamn sorry, but—”
“I know my not being able to have children was always an issue, but I—”
“No,” he said firmly. “No, this had nothing to do with us, Peg.”
“Then tell me what it does have to do with. And I suggest you do a good job of it because right now you’re behaving like someone desperately in need of psychiatric care.”
He nodded, fought the impulse to reach out and take her hands and instead pulled the towel from his head and tossed it aside. It landed in the corner near Petey, who had curled up there to take a nap. The dog raised his head a bit, sniffed the towel, glanced at Seth then resumed his slumber with a soft sighing moan. “The things that happened were a part of something much bigger that had been going on for years. But none of us knew that then, except for Raymond. Remember how he just showed up unannounced right before we left? I was so glad to see him, remember?” Seth felt an involuntary smile on his lips. “I was so happy he was coming with us. Hell, we were all excited about going. Louis was a little upset that Raymond showed up like that—they never got along that well, they both had too much alpha male in them, I guess—but he got over it and even they were getting along great once we got going. We were all so thrilled to get a break from the company, some down time up in the woods just hanging around, playing some cards, drinking too much and relaxing, it was like nothing could ruin it. Christ, it was supposed to be fun but…” The smile slipped away as Seth drew a deep breath, closed his eyes and let the memories flow over him like slowly breaking waves. “Then Christy showed up.”
Deep Night Page 35