Transformation

“You can start on the rum,” Weed said as he knelt down. “We’re going to need to get your shoe off.”

  Francis helped Ron remove his shoe, sock, and cut his pant leg at the knee.

  “You got it from here?” Weed looked at Ron like a father might look at a son on the first day of school. Ron appreciated the concern but after witnessing Francis in kill mode it was a disparate experience. Maybe Francis felt the specter of the victims that filled the gloomy corners and deep shadows of the accursed place. Maybe he was on his best behavior, just as Ron was, because he too had a strong sense that he should remain reverent while in this place despite the fact that he didn’t believe in ghosts and spirits.

  Ron nodded and let Francis leave. He focused on the task at hand to keep his mind off the spirits. The alcohol content of the rum was high enough that Ron knew it would kill all the bacteria in his wounds, but it was going to burn like hell. It was probably going to hurt worse than the bear trap did. He took a few big swallows of rum then went to work.

  When he was finished the rum was almost gone and there was a pile of gory napkins in a puddle of blood under his leg. He wrapped his wounds in some gauze and a few strips of duct tape. He hesitated to look in the drawers of the desk but when he did, he found some over the counter pain killers and washed them down with the rest of the rum. He stood, endured the pain, and hobbled to the door. He wanted out of the building.

  Ron made it out of the building and lay right on the ground. He propped his foot up on an old milk crate and let the booze and the pain killers do the rest.

  A few hours later Francis woke Ron. His leg throbbed but the pain wasn’t as acute as he’d expected it to be. The shadows were getting long, the chill evening wind was picking up. He wanted more kibble.

  “Time to go,” Francis said and helped Ron to his feet.

  “Now that’s funny.” Ron said as Francis helped him hop to the truck.

  The truck bed was piled high with big loose bails of weed. An enormous amount of the stuff was lashed and tied in tarps and boxes. The bed was full and there was even a good bit on the roof of the cab.

  “This outa hold me for a spell,” Weed chuckled. “C’mon Ronnie, let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Weed helped Ron into the truck and jumped in the driver’s seat. “How’s the leg?”

  “Pretty good all things considered,” Ron said.

  Francis put the truck in gear and started forward. He drove slow with one hand, opened a small box with the other that was on the seat between the two. There were many joints already rolled, a new fire stick, and a half bag of beef jerky.

  “I ate my half.” Francis said. “It’s all I could find in the way of foodstuffs. Help yourself. Oh and there’s some waters too.”

  Ron ate the jerky, drank water, and kept an eye out to make sure they weren’t followed. He watched their cargo flapping and blowing in the wind. A little fell off here and there. Francis had tied things down pretty tight.

  A piece of plant blew into the window and landed on Ron’s lap. He picked it up and held it out. “I hope we don’t get pulled over.”

  Weed laughed. “I can talk my way out of it, don’t you worry.”

  Ron smiled. “Like I said earlier, I should be mad at you. But now that we survived all that shit. I don’t know, I feel grateful for the diversion, the distraction.” He lit up another joint and hit it hard to ease the throbbing in his leg.

  The sun was down and it was dark as pitch on the highway. Ron and Weed made it about fifty miles before the truck sputtered and died. They were out of gas.

  “Only one thing to do Ronnie. I go for gas you wait here”

  Ron didn’t like the idea of being alone while injured. He wondered what he would do if Francis didn’t return?

  “Okay,” he nodded reluctantly.

  “See you soon.” Francis left the cab and was swallowed by blackness, invisible even before the door shut.

  Ron made sure the doors were locked before he laid down. He hoped for sleep but it never did come, not really. The windows were down an inch for ventilation and Ron listened to the sounds of the night. Once or twice he thought he heard a distant scream but couldn’t tell if it were human or animal.

  42.

  “Look. They’re stopping.” Rachael was in the lead and getting the two of them closer to the aliens, as they started calling them, then Cooper was comfortable with.

  “Come on,” he whispered. “We need to back off a little. I have to go see Jeff.”

  She looked at him and nodded. They slowed a bit.

  “They’re just so fascinating,” she whispered back.

  They followed the creatures for a mile or more as they silently moved along. Once they stopped, did nothing at all for a good three minutes, and then started walking again.

  Suddenly they all turned at precisely the same time and walked over the edge of the expressway. They disappeared silently over the edge.

  “Okay. Now we have to go to the structure,” Cooper said as they both leaned over the edge. Nothing but blackness and silence was below them.

  Rachael shrugged, “Any ideas?”

  Cooper raised his scope again. It was dark, but the moon shed enough light to illuminate the world in tones of black and gray. He scanned the area.

  “See anything?” Rachael asked.

  Cooper was about to say no when he spotted what appeared to be six figures walking across the long term parking lot through all the bodies.

  “Yeah. Looks like six people walking down there.”

  “It’s not those things?”

  “No, looks like people. They seem okay walking across the corpses. Maybe we should just go for it?”

  “All right, we have to get down from here.” Rachael was backing up and looking left to right.

  “Ow.” She turned around. Nothing was there. “What?” She rubbed her head.

  “Cooper…” She was walking forward and seemed to slam into a plate of glass. She fell back on the ground.

  Cooper walked forward, hands out. He felt something, something hard. But it wasn’t smooth and vertical like a plate of glass. There was a texture to the uneven surface. The best he could describe it would be a very hard rubber. His hand slid across the surface and he found an opening.

  Rachael stood, blood on her lip from where it smacked the invisible object. Cooper put his hand out to her.

  “Take my hand.” Together they tried to get her free, but she touched something that made her recoil. She fell backwards again.

  “Oh shit! Oh shit!” Rachael wiped her hands on her pant legs. She looked disgusted. “I think I touched a … I think it’s one of them.”

  Cooper backed off. “Can you crawl under?”

  Rachael’s face registered her disgust. But she shook it off and got to her hands and knees and crawled slowly forward. She felt ahead and got under or around the invisible thing.

  “This thing is invisible. How is this possible?” Cooper helped Rachael to her feet.

  “I remember hearing about the possibility of invisible paint that used microscopic cameras or lens that bent light or something. It made sense the way I heard it explained.”

  Then Cooper remembered a few invisibility experiments he saw online. Some of them were simply cameras that projected what it saw onto a screen behind it and the screen hid what was between it and the camera. But there were more advanced experiments that bent light around an object. The ones he could see online were all very crude, but maybe these aliens had perfected it.

  “Let’s move on.” Cooper walked slowly with hands out in front of him.

  “Yes. Let’s.” Rachael walked behind him.

  “What do you think they are doing?” Rachael asked.

  “It feels like they are getting in position for something.”

  “Sounds scary.” She looked around, eyes wide, concern etched on her face.

  Cooper was worried Jeff might not even be in the structure.

  They walked on and got comfortable moving f
aster. Then Rachael ran right into another invisible object. She staggered backwards.

  “Damn it!” She hissed and spat blood. Her lip was split and bled for a few minutes until it started to clot. She eyed Cooper and went behind him.

  “It’s your turn to run into an invisible object.”

  Cooper started forward, hands out. Rachael had her hands on his shoulders. It slowed them down considerably as they made their way to the next off ramp. Cooper felt four more of the creatures and they slowly worked their way past them all. Finally they came to a set of pedestrian stairs that went down.

  Rachael looked at Cooper and was surprised to see fear in his eyes.

  “You ready?” Was all he said.

  Rachael just nodded and they started down the stairs, descending into darkness. It was the sinister darkness that gathered between a child’s bed and the floor where monsters liked to hide.

  43.

  Sal watched Sherm cup his thick hands to his mouth and call upward towards the dark.

  “We’re here!” His voice was low in tenor but carried far in the quiet night. It echoed around the inside of the structure.

  Choco cupped his hands around his mouth. “Whoop! Whoop!” It was high pitched and loud. Sherm smacked him in the head with his beefy arm. Choco stumbled from the impact.

  “We’re coming down! Meet us!” They heard a man yell from above.

  Sal was nervous now. Who was up there?

  Eddie leaned towards him. “Sounds like the Rabbits.”

  Sal gave him a confused look.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Eddie said.

  After a few minutes, they heard the whirring of the winch. The man’s voice called.

  “Over here. Over here.”

  “Where’s here?” Sherm asked.

  “Right here.” The voice said from the darkness.

  “You’d better light a match or stick out your fucking head,” Sherm bellowed.

  “Walk straight under. There’s an elevator.” The voice whined back.

  Sherm led everyone into the structure. Sal followed and was stepping on the elevator platform still not sure of what he should do. He had to try something so he took a long shot.

  “OK guys. You wait here. I’ll go round everyone up and bring them down.”

  Sal was worried they might force themselves onto the elevator but they didn’t. Sal looked at Eddie.

  “You okay down here?”

  Eddie nodded, a comfortable nod and a smile.

  Sal and Sherm got on the elevator and at the top they met two men in what appeared to be torn and stained pajamas. One of them danced a little in place. Sal and Sherm stepped off and to Sal’s surprise, Sherm made the two men wait with the others below.

  Sal went to raise the winch and when he returned, Sherm was rubbing his temples. He looked up when Sal returned.

  “Lead the way.” He gestured for Sal to walk in front of him.

  But Sal hung back. He didn’t want his back to Sherm. Sherm motioned him forward again with a sweeping gesture. Sal started walking slowly forward. He was about to speak up when he heard Wendy’s voice. He was elated she was okay, but now he may have led a dangerous person right to her in their home. If she was hurt or killed after all they went through, he couldn’t forgive himself.

  “Stop right there.” Wendy spoke firm. She wasn’t afraid. Sal was impressed. A light sprung up. Jeff was holding an electric lantern. Sal could see that Donna, Wendy, and Jeff were all armed. Ana wasn’t present, but Sal was too nervous to notice her absence.

  Sherm saw Wendy and smiled. He turned and spoke to Sal like an excited kid.

  “Introduce us.”

  Sal stepped from behind Sherm. Wendy’s eyes popped open.

  “Sal? You OK?” Wendy was excited but keeping control of the situation. Her gun was still held high and unwavering. “Get over here.”

  Sal walked over and stood by Wendy.

  “Wendy, this is Sherm. Sherm, Wendy. That’s Donna and Jeff.” Sherm gave Wendy a little smile and a wave. He looked at his feet. Sal whispered to Wendy, “I need to talk to you now.”

  He led Wendy away. Jeff and Donna stayed back. They kept at a distance and lowered their weapons.

  Once they were behind a pillar in the dark Wendy turned and hugged Sal. She kissed him on the lips.

  “I’m glad you’re okay, but who the hell are these people?”

  “It’s hard to explain. They were sent to hunt us, but I kind of became one of them along the way.”

  “What the hell do you mean? Why is he up here? He should’ve waited below with the others.”

  “I know, but he kind of just followed me. They all escaped from a mental institution..”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” Wendy hissed.

  “Yeah, I messed up but there’s a kid, Eddie. He’s okay.”

  Wendy looked at Sal and tried to be mad. She hugged him again.

  “Look. Mary’s dead. There was an explosion. Ron and Francis disappeared.”

  “What?” Tears sprang to Sal’s eyes. “Mary?” He was saddened by her death but had to stay focused on the current situation. He fought back tears that would surely come later and he wouldn’t try to stop them. He would miss her terribly.

  “Look, we have to get back to him. I’m just going to show him around, and you three can hang back with your guns and keep an eye on them.

  “Me and Donna will follow you. Jeff can stay here and watch those below. Make sure they don’t try something. We have Ana on the third level keeping an eye open to be sure no one sneaks in. She’s armed and old Francis has his noise makers all strung up.”

  Sal nodded.

  “OK Sherm.” He called as he approached the big man. “Let’s go. I’m giving you the tour.”

  After a brief walk around the garage, they stopped at the sofas.

  “OK.” Sherm sat on a big leather sofa that creaked under his weight.

  “I am the king now.” He rubbed the sofa and looked down.

  “I’m hungry,” Sherm stated. “Bring the others up. They will be my guests. We will all eat.”

  Everyone was smiling, thinking this was a joke at first. Sal knew better.

  “Pardon me, but what does it mean to be king?” Sal asked knowing the answer may simply be benign.

  Sherm looked up angry, then his face went flat. It was a good question.

  “I am in charge. I say what goes.”

  Everyone was quiet. No one knew what to say. They weren’t going to let this lunatic be king, but they didn’t want to upset him either by telling him that just yet.

  Sherm raised his arm and pointed at Wendy but he looked down at his lap. “I want the pretty lady here by me. I want her.”

  “What are you going to do to her?” Sal asked.

  “I will make her mother!” He said.

  “Then no.” Sal said. “You can’t have her near you.”

  Sherm looked up, his eyes totally hidden by his prominent brow. Standing up he bellowed, “I want her here now!”

  He fell back down on the sofa. There was a loud crack as the wooden frame broke. He put his head in his hands and rubbed it with meaty fingers and groaned.

  “You don’t see it yet, but you will. You will. You will.” Sherm repeated. “You are going to be a mother. You are a mother. I know it and you do not.”

  Sal and Donna both reflexively took a step back and looked over at Wendy. When they caught her eye, she just shrugged, her face impassive.

  44.

  Ron watched as the sky lightened over the eastern horizon. A dull pink that was washed away by a wave of blue that exploded across the sky, sweeping the last smudge of a long miserable night away.

  He opened the truck door and slid out onto the 5. The dried blood on his bandages pulled on the wounds. He slid down to the truck onto his ass with his leg straight out and waited for the stabbing pain to subside.

  After a few minutes, the sky was mostly blue and Ron was ready to try and stand again. He used the running
board of the old truck to get to his feet. His wounds throbbed painfully as the blood filled his legs. The teeth of the trap had punctured his skin in two places, and he thought his shin bone might be chipped or fractured. He put weight on his injured leg just to test it and instantly regretted it. The pain was intense, but he remained on his feet. He closed his eyes and felt the sweat beading on his brow even on this chilly morning.

  Ron steadied himself with one hand on the truck and hopped past the rumbled old fender and to the front bumper. He ventured a few hops out to the center of the 5 and when he stopped went directly into a sitting position, legs out, in the most ungraceful fashion.

  It was too painful to stand so Ron didn’t try again. He enjoyed the warmth of the rising sun and tried to relax, but old habits die hard. He couldn’t help but look up and down the highway to make a sure a car wasn’t coming. All around him was a vast nothingness, no landmarks in sight.

  The sun rose rapidly and the world brightened before his eyes. He waited a few minutes to get a better look around. Still nothing. His ankle throbbed so he tried to crawl on all fours back to the truck, but after the first few feet, the rocks and the road hurt his hands and tortured his knees. He lay on his stomach and discovered quickly he couldn’t drag himself at all so he rolled. He bore down and made the trip back into the truck as quickly as possible and soon had his foot propped up out the window as he lay back on the seat.

  He was worried about Francis and was scared for himself. He had no idea what he would he do should he need to move on by himself. He could barely get ten feet on his own. He was passing concern and quickly approaching panic. Another hour (it seemed) and still no sign of Francis. He came to realize that his worry over the old man was in no small part due to the fact that he would miss him should he never see him again.

  He tried to relax, but couldn’t help looking around constantly out of fear and expectation. He wondered if Francis found gas and was heading back or still walking down the 5—or maybe he was dead.

  Ron was starting to wonder how long he should wait for Francis and had no idea what he would do if he decided to stop waiting.

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