She had a thought, and reached into her pocket for her phone. Pulling it out, she pressed the button to light up the screen, but nothing happened. “Your phone, does it work?”
He shifted against her. “No. It won’t even turn on. It’s useless. Yours?”
“Dead,” she said. “We’ve got to find a way out of here.”
“I can’t see.”
“It doesn’t matter. As long as we’re careful, we can try. There’s no way I’m just sitting here waiting to die.”
“Agreed," he said.
Samantha reached over and took his hand. Slowly, they started forward. She slid her feet in front of her with each step so there couldn’t be any surprises. From the sound of it, he did the same.
He squeezed her hand softly, caressing it with his thumb. It was comforting to have him here with her in the darkness. If Bret hadn’t shown up back there, she might have just rolled up into a ball on the floor and screamed until she died…or went crazy.
Something scuffed against the ground, and they both froze. Bret pulled her close against him. She couldn’t hear his breathing, so she knew he’d stopped. To her surprise, she found she’d also quit breathing. The scuffing sounded again, and Samantha whispered, “Rats?”
She felt his shrug, and decided to keep quiet. When the sound hadn’t come again, they hesitantly started forward. She could feel him trembling against her side, which did little to comfort her.
A massive thud sounded behind them, and they both jumped. Dark engulfed them, just as it had before. The velvety blackness had a life of its own, stroking her from all sides. She shivered in disgust at the sensation.
Then came a masculine whisper: "Welcome to our world."
“No. Leave me alone!” She'd intended for it to come out firm, but it was little more than a whimper.
Something pushed her from the side. Bret’s grip broke. Clawed hands grabbed at her, one set wrapping around her throat and squeezing.
She fought, lungs burning as she struggled for air.
Breaking loose, she ran ahead, heedless of the darkness and anything she might run into. Bret called after her, but she couldn’t stop.
Bret screamed behind her.
Her blood froze, as did her feet. This is when you keep running, legs. He screamed again, making the fine hairs along her entire body rise as only a man’s scream can do. She swallowed the lump in her throat and willed her legs to run again, but they wouldn’t do it. Part of her wanted to go back to him, and she took one step in the direction she’d just run from.
“Bret?” she called, weakly. “Bret? Are you okay?”
Stupid question, but she didn’t know what else to ask. When the answer came, her legs started working.
“Run, Samantha. Go!” His voice dripped with agony.
A low snarl sounded, followed by a wet ripping noise. She was running long before she had a chance to process what she'd heard. His scream followed her before cutting off.
The slap of her sneakers against the ground wasn’t the only sound. Something large ran behind her.
It appeared to be gaining.
“We need you,” said a new multi-toned voice. “Ssssstay.”
Her chest burned, throat pulsing with pain. There was no way she could keep running like this. Before she had a chance to consider alternatives, she broke into moonlight, slammed full force into a wall, and sprawled backwards onto the ground.
Samantha tried to rise to her knees, but pain shot through her rib cage. Everything hurt.
Heavy footsteps pounded her way. She had no time. If this was the second pool of moonlight, the door stood nearby. If not, she might be in the first pool of light, which put her close to the cheesy, yet lit, portion of the ride. She pulled herself up to a hunched standing position and staggered through the light in the direction of the wall. Pressing herself against it, she pulled herself along.
It took her a moment to register an approaching metallic clatter as the cart. Someone was coming through! She dragged herself away from the wall, deeper into the darkness. The cart drew closer before stopping.
Samantha heard whispering, but couldn’t make out any words. She listened more intently and heard breathing. A whimper sounded in the dark, followed soon after by a sharp intake of breath. She lumbered forward, tried to speak, but could only produce a mewling sound. The breathing stopped, and she reached out, pulling herself closer to the car, gurgling in frustration. She felt like Frankenstein.
The car started again. She tried to increase her speed, but failed. Her hand brushed something soft. She grabbed it. Shaking her hand in disgust, she realized that what she’d grabbed was a handful of hair.
“Shit,” whispered a female voice in the dark.
“Are you alright?” asked a male voice. It sounded like Bret.
“Something just pulled my hair,” said the woman, and it struck her that this voice sounded familiar.
It sounded like her.
A pale, yellow light turned on up ahead, and she saw the outline of two people against it, one a larger male figure, the other a slight female with a pony tail.
Impossible.
She slumped to the ground as she heard the howl. Even with her injuries, she would have to put on some speed and follow the car before it got to the door. This time there would be no stopping at the mirrors.
Samantha got up and limped after the car, listening to the sound of their urgent voices. She couldn’t make out what they were saying until Bret exclaimed, "Something just scratched me!" Shadows gathered around them, sometimes blocking her sight of them. It didn't make sense. Were the shadows human shaped?
Just when she’d begun losing hope, the door opened up ahead. The car whooshed through, and she put on speed, slamming into the door as it closed. She pounded on it, screaming for help. The door was thick, solid. Could they even hear her on the other side?
She stopped for a moment and put her ear to the door to see if she could hear anything.
Nothing.
What she could hear was something panting behind her. She looked over her shoulder, but could see nothing in the pitch black.
It drew nearer.
Samantha tried to stick her fingers through the door crack to pry it open. There was no give. She pounded on it again, screaming as loudly as she could.
Exhausted, she turned around, back against the door. Her palms were pressed into the cool, slick metal on either side of her hips. There was a faint vibration to it, like power coursing through the metal.
A puff of air shot against her thighs. She shrieked. It was right in front of her, yet she still couldn’t see it. She kicked out, striking something soft and warm. It yelped. She kicked again.
“Get away from me, you bastard!”
The next time she kicked out, something sharp took hold of her leg. Her skin burned, pain ripping down her calf. Sliding to the floor, she tried to pull her leg back while kicking with the other. Her foot made contact. It huffed and let go.
Jerking her leg back, she scrambled up the door to a standing position. She tried to ignore the pain. For a moment she stood there, eyes and ears straining at the thick darkness around her. The creature made no sound, yet she could feel it. Not its breath. Its presence. A malignant energy that pressed at her.
It took her awhile before she found the ability to move. Terror pumped through her veins with each beat of her heart. She slid sideways. The creature followed. When it didn’t leap, she continued to move laterally, keeping her hands and back against the wall. The metal gave way to wood, now warm against her hands. A splinter pierced her flesh.
The side of her hand hit an obstruction. She gasped and paused to feel around. It just appeared to be a bend in the wall. The creature snuffled, making its presence known. Why wasn’t it attacking? Had she stunned it just enough to confuse it? Was it hurt?
Light appeared to her side, faint, but definitely there.
She picked up the pace, finally relinquishing the wall and running toward the light.
>
And there she was. Another her. Staring at her through a lit rectangle.
The mirror.
An odd smile stretched her lips. Relief. She shoved her hands through the mirror, grabbing the image that gazed back at her. There was no time to take in more than the shocked expression of her reflection before she closed her eyes, feeling the coolness of the mirror, followed by the onset of dizziness. Finally, she felt the breeze coming from the doorway. The scents of the carnival drifted in to her, and she inhaled deeply.
Opening her eyes, she took in the blank surface of the mirror. She could no longer see the other her, nor could she see herself. The mirror had become opaque, a pool of liquid darkness.
Something howled. She ran.
Once outside, she looked around. There was no one there, no sound. The carnival had shut down while she’d been inside. How long had it been?
Relieved to be out, she ran to the closest trailer and pounded on the door. The windows were dark, and no one came. She moved through them, pounding on the doors, the windows, the walls. Still no one responded. Where were they? She needed to find help, to send someone in for Bret. He could be alive, injured, desperate for help.
Turning away from the trailers, she fled through the carnival, winding through the now ominous darkened attractions. Clouds had moved over the moon, and it was nearly as dark as it had been inside the ride. The scant light given off looked silvery.
As she neared Sucker Row, there was a sound off to the side. She slowed and squinted into the darkness. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
No answer came, and she stepped backward, away from the sound, eyes straining. One area was darker than the rest, loosely in the shape of a person.
“Why won’t you answer me? I need help.”
The adrenaline was wearing off. Her body ached all over. She took out her useless phone and threw it toward the shadow. No reaction. Perhaps she'd only imagined something there.
She continued toward the exit, eyes returning to the shadow repeatedly. Up ahead, the ticket booth loomed, the petting zoo now devoid of animals. She sprinted past it, back out into the abandoned parking lot.
It was empty, even of her own car.
Another rush of panic filled her as she tried to figure out what she was seeing. There were no lights anywhere. Not in the parking lot, and not beyond it. The street was dark, empty. There were no city lights in the distance. A breeze rustled grass that was grey in the shadows. In fact, everything around her appeared to be in shades of black and grey.
Samantha sucked in her breath and slumped to the ground.
A large grey dog huffed as it ran past her. It turned to face her, sitting on its haunches. Its eyes glowed red, but it made no move toward her.
Around her, the shadows coalesced, rising from the ground and surrounding her. She put out a hand and felt cool air, but no resistance. When she touched a hand to the ground, her fingers slipped through, chilled, just as with the mirror.
Looking behind her, she discovered her own reflection, repeated infinite times, nothing but darkness behind it. Behind her.
Faceless
"This is what we refer to as a spaghetti bag.”
Pausing in her attempt to put her shoes back on, Delilah jerked her attention up to the airport security agent standing on the other side of the stainless steel surface. His military precision haircut framed a slightly pudgy visage, the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow on his cheeks and chin. Spaghetti bag? Was that a new terrorist term? “Pardon?”
“You’ve got all these cables in here. Spaghetti, you know? I’ll need you to follow me so I can go through it.”
With a sigh, Delilah followed the blue-shirted back of the agent. Around her, the hushed sound of voices hummed along in chorus with the moving security belts. The inside of her head felt stuffed with cotton from the dulled edges of sound and bright lights pulsating around her.
Happily, it was decided she wasn’t a terrorist, merely a geek, and she zipped up her bag and headed toward the tram. An escalator took her down into a shiny tunnel, one wall full of ads, the other windows. She stopped in front of a giant sliding glass door and set down her bag, relinquishing the handle of her rolling suitcase while she waited with everyone else for the tram that would come shortly. Using the glass as a mirror, she straightened her tan skirt and adjusted her cream top. Her auburn hair was a mess, but all she could do was shift it around with her fingers in an attempt to shame it back into place.
Someone stepped up close behind her, and she looked into the window’s reflection. She saw a dark halo of hair surrounding a blurry void, no visible facial features. With a jolt, she turned to look at the figure behind her and found a perfectly normal woman, almond-shaped eyes meeting hers for a brief moment. Delilah gave her a half smile and turned away, shaking her head at the odd jolt of panic she’d felt at seeing the featureless reflection.
A rumble began in the tunnel, followed by a red tram that whooshed along in front of Delilah. She watched the blur of faces as they coursed by her until the tram came to a stop. A ding sounded, followed by a calm, semi-metallic woman’s voice.
“Please stand behind the red line until the doors open and the passengers depart.”
She picked up the bag, securing it on her shoulder, and grabbed her suitcase handle. Another ding sounded and the door slid open, unleashing a torrent of dead-eyed tourists and business travelers from the guts of the tram. The scents of perfume and sweat washed over her as she waited her turn. A short, angular man jostled her as he moved by, his shoulder hitting her square in the breast.
“Excuse me!” she said, rubbing at the sore spot left behind. He didn’t so much as look at her.
With an irritated grunt, she stepped onto the tram, too late to get one of the seats. She grabbed the nearest pole and leaned her suitcase against her leg. A stocky man came up to stand beside her, his meaty fist clenched around the pole just above her hand. A smell like bologna wafted off him, and she thanked her lucky stars it wasn’t worse.
She blew out a frustrated puff of air and held tighter as the tram began to move with a jerk, knocking the man’s armpit against the side of her head. Like the previous guy, he didn’t bother to apologize, and she made a point of staying as far from him as she could while they were wrapped around the same smooth piece of metal.
Staring into the car after theirs in an attempt to avoid looking at her pole-partner, Delilah ran her eyes over the passengers. Most wore bland expressions, their journey having only begun. A family chattered with animation, two kids holding tiny backpacks.
Her gaze drifted over a couple, both faces blurred, features indistinguishable. When she shot her eyes back to them, they looked completely normal. Man, I must be more tired than I thought. She shook her head and looked down at the ground, closing her eyes for a moment to rest them.
She listened, eyes still closed, as the tram screamed along the tracks, a whoosh signifying each metal brace they passed. Someone to her right coughed, sudden and sharp in the quiet car.
Shifting slightly, she looked in the other direction, staring through the large rectangle of plexiglass that made up the window at the front of the car. In the next car, there was only one person. A woman stood directly in the center of it, staring back toward Delilah. She wore a well-cut red coat with black buttons and a black skirt that ended just above her knees. Despite the dim light of the tram, she wore giant sunglasses, Audrey Hepburn style, her dark hair pulled back into a tight topknot. Her chin was tilted down, and it was impossible to tell where her eyes rested. Was she actually looking at Delilah, or had something else caught her attention? Delilah turned her head to look behind her, but found nothing of interest, at least not that she could see.
When she turned back around, the woman still appeared to be staring at her, but her head had tilted to the side like a dog studying something interesting. Delilah braced herself and stared back, lips pressed together, forehead crinkled in indignant concentration.
The woman’s
head straightened. Was it Delilah’s imagination or had a slight smile appeared on the woman’s face?
With a jerk, the tram halted. The vaguely feminine robot voice filtered through the car: “Welcome to Terminal A. Please gather your items and step from the car. This is the end of the line.”
Delilah looked down to grab her suitcase handle more fully, and when she looked up, the woman was gone. She held back, not eager to run into her in the brightly lit hallway outside. Better to let her get ahead. Her back crawled at the thought of the creepy way the woman had stared at her. Studied her.
She’d taken too long to get off the tram, and now people were crowding on. Exiting was like swimming upstream, and she found she had to put out an arm to ward off those coming at her. An elbow hit her in the ribs. A suitcase rolled over her foot. Everyone stared straight ahead, airport zombies with no interest in what stirred around them.
By the time she got out into the hallway, there were only a few stragglers. They headed off to her left, and she followed, assuming they knew where they were supposed to go. Lord knew she didn’t. An escalator led up into the roaring terminal, and it was as if she’d stepped through an invisible barrier as a wall of sound hit her. The brrrr of rolling wheels surrounded her, battered by hundreds of voices, the tromp of feet. Somewhere, an infant cried. The scent of food enticed her, her mouth watering as she passed a fast food burger joint. When she walked past a bar, the hoppy smell of beer tickled her nose, voices louder here than the rest of the terminal.
A group of people milled about up ahead, and she paused to look at the digital sign hanging from the ceiling. ATLANTA scrolled past in red pixelated letters. This was it.
Taking a seat on the row of chairs along the main walkway, furthest from the check-in desk, Delilah unzipped her bag and pulled a book out. She tried to block out the sounds around her, but found she couldn’t ignore them enough to get into the book. When she slid it back into the bag and looked up, the woman in the red coat stood a couple feet in front of her, still wearing those sunglasses. Her face was a blur behind them, and when she slid the glasses off her face, a void was left behind.
Blue Sludge Blues & Other Abominations Page 12