“One night, as I stood outside, watching the pale glow of the moon. She was gone. I wanted to feel destroyed, yet I never had it in me. The higher part of myself knew that death was a part of life, yet the rest of me couldn’t comprehend that I had just lived a life I should never have lived… It was a life that would cause more destruction than I ever would have known… Do you want to know why your town is so destroyed?”
Michael’s head broke out of the visions Cassiel presented, everything he spoke was in such vivid details that it felt like it were his memories as well. “Yes.” Michael felt an unexplainable sliver of sadness in his voice. While Cassiel could never feel sorrow for what he went through, Michael received every bit of it as Cassiel relived his memories.
“My daughter inherited part of me, half deity and half human… Have you been able to catch up with what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, I…” Michael felt a tear flow from his face and shoot down his body by the wind. Why am I crying? it’s only been bout’ 5 minutes of him talkin’. This isn’t even my life.
“We might need to hold on the explanations, look up.” Michael squinted and saw a white speck glint above him. The speck grew from a grain of salt to the size of a dime. “Hold on, we’re gonna try to sail through this. I think Lilith was trying to fling your body up in the air and have you collide with the ground.”
Michael felt two rippling lines unfold on his back. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the tips of wings fluttering like flags in a violent storm. They swooned in front of him and caught the wind behind him. The hole was now the size of a basketball above his head.
The sky was a dark orange-gray, and the scent of smoke filled the air. There was a sudden wave of relief as he shot out of the hole. Slender, black telephone poles replaced every tree in the forest. The grass was now charcoal black, with highlights of stiff gray. The smell of smoke faded as they flew out of the forest. For a second, had an aerial view of the town. The sun poked out from behind the forest line a hundred miles ahead. He shot into the thick blanket of smog and the town faded into gray obscurity. The wings on his back caught hold of the wind.
As he overlooked the town once more, he saw a dark sheet of rain swiping through one side of the town and billowing to the other. He looked towards the ground and noticed that the land around the hole sank. Trees absorbed his view of the town as he floated towards the ground. Through the thin lines of tress, he swore he could see three black shadows the size of boulders, as if a pitch-black asteroids landed in the woods.
The ground was rough and patchy. He thought of the lime-green color the field once had and that water like sway the wind created. Now it looked like a battlefield. The ground was stained with soot. He could see the remnant hand prints in the dirt below him. The shadows had clawed their way out of the hole, raking thin lines of earth and stones in the process.
A tree thirty feet away from him still had a fire flickering within its hollowed body. Michael heard the grass scratch at his shoes. The forest was dead silent, apart from the whistle of wind through the naked trees. He surveyed the woods for any sign of an exit back to his father’s workplace but found no trail. He recalled it looking like a hole burrowed through the forest. However, in this war zone, dozens of similar paths were made, with trees knocked into diagonal splays as something had massive barreled through.
As the sun slipped behind the trees, Michael heard something far off in the distance. A familiar haunting noise—the sound of rain. But it wasn’t just the sound of rain; it was the noise of rain drawing in. The sound of rain hunting you down. A loud, hissing sound hovered in the air as the raindrops struck the ash and embers. He heard it far off in the distance. The hissing increased as the storm drew towards him. Michael scoured the ground for anything to use as protection against the rain. He patted on his back for the hood of his jacket but discovered that the hood came off on the journey up.
“Uhh, Cassiel? should I run?”
“Oh right, hold on.” The wings on his back disappeared as Cassiel spoke.
“We don’t got a lot of time to hold on!” Michael saw the smoke intensify as the rain moved in. The incoming wave of vapors gave him a measure for the speed of the storm. It was at the rate of an out-of-control truck, hurtling towards him. Steam enveloped the surrounding forest. “Au, uh, Cassiel, can you see what I’m seeing?”
Cassiel didn’t respond.
Michael could see the rain clouds lull forward like a crashing wave. He sprinted across the cracking ground; the rain chasing him. As he ran, he could feel the tug and pull of the real world on his muscles. He couldn’t run like he could down there. This was the real world. A world where time strains your every movement. Michael’s foot slipped inward, and he fumbled towards the grass, catching himself with one arm and an elbow.
“This ain’t funny now. Come on, please!” Michael listened to the sparks of rain rush behind him. As he tried to pick himself up, he saw the white light of Cassiel gleam on the ground below him. Michael was about to look up but then winced as he heard the blare of rain sweep over him and braced for death.
Side A Track 12
On the Way
Denver and Lara's eyes were glued to the front door, waiting for another knock to come. Holding two pistols, they crept off the living room couch and back into the kitchen doorway.
Knock… Knock… Knock…
Lara looked at Denver in disbelief. Denver glanced back.
The doorknob rattled. It was a faint, almost unintelligible sound, but their alert ears let it echo through their minds.
“You locked the door?” Lara whispered.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m 100% sure I did—” The door cracked open. A slimy black hand clawed the edge of the door. The sound of rain grew as the door groaned opened. A hulking shadow emerged. It stumbled into the living room. Denver cocked back his gun.
Lara tapped Denver’s shoulder, “Wait.”
“Wait?” Denver’s eyes darted, “The hell you mean wait.”
Lara fixed her eyes on the shadow. Studied its stumble around the room. Its right leg dipped as it stood—she knew that stumble. The shadow stared back. It shook as if it were either laughing or sobbing. Its eyes shook along with his body. The shaking stopped. She knew who it was, the stumble, the beer belly, his stonewalled stance.
“Lar… I’m sorry,” Butch’s voice sounded as if it were underwater, like he was lost somewhere within himself.
“Who are you!” Denver shot off like a drill sergeant, pistol ready. Butch’s glowing pearl gaze snapped towards Denver. Lara remained glued to Butch. Butch snapped back towards Lara and sunk away.
“We are… made to devour…” Butch stomped forward, then held himself back. His hands made wet slaps onto his sides as he held his head, “La… Lar, ah… run!” Lara stepped towards the porch door.
Butch’s body twisted, turned, and tangled as he fought some urge within himself. Denver steadied his pistol and kept aim as he lurked towards the back door window.
A sling of slime spurted from Butch’s hand, and grasped the gun, tethering Butch and Denver by a string. Butch yanked back. Denver almost collapsed forward, but Lara clutched his wrist with one hand and the edge kitchen doorway with her other hand.
Denver let go of the gun. Butch tumbled onto the couch. Dust puffed from its long-forgotten cushions, giving shape to the thin rays of moonlight from the window.
Lara ran past Butch then peered out the doorway, her car was only fifteen feet ahead. That’s only, what? ten seconds in the rain? I can survive that… right? She froze for a fraction of a second, looking at Denver, then back at the rain. The storm’s harsh hush sent shivers up her spine.
Lara hopped over the three steps that led up towards the house and entered the rain. She felt the all too familiar burning sensation slide over as she was in the air. Thunder clapped as she hit the ground. Her feet splashed searing mud up her leg. Rain flared across her arms, hampering their sway as she ran. She never looked back, only persevered through t
he storm.
Lara swung open her truck’s door and slid across the leather seat. The truck failed to start. Something dark jutted across her rear-view mirror and down the passenger side window. She pushed the brake and twisted the key once more. The truck sprang to life. The passenger door veered open, rocking the whole car.
Denver slid into the seat. Lara floored it into revise and jetted out the driveway. The back of the truck swerved nearly 90 degrees as she turned onto the rain sheeted road. She slid her arm down to squeeze Denver's hand, then flailed back as she turned.
“Did ya see him run out?” she clung both hands to the wheel.
“No, I ain’t seen nothing. I ran along with ya… Was that the man you were talkin’ about?”
“Yeah… it was him,” Lara flicked the windshield wipers to little effect. The rain continued to create a warping downpour on the windshield. She saw the light from a streetlamp down the road. Then watched the light shake in the rear-view mirror, waiting to see some shadow appear from under it. The streetlamp’s glow shrunk to the size of a golf ball as she drove.
“Holy shit Lara, you see that?” Denver looked out the window like a child watching a passing firetruck.
Lara looked out and saw a row of tents glowing in the night. That ain’t nothin’, she thought. Shit, who would set something in the middle of nowhere like that? She watched it fade into a wall of trees. “You think it’s some kinda farmer’s market?”
“Maybe someones buildin’ a barn or somethin’ out there…” Denver watched the dark spray of woods, swearing he saw things move between the trees. “How do you feel about the dead coming back… like seein’ all of them people that were close to you?”
“It ain’t affect me as much as I thought it would, not that I ever thought about seeing dead people.” Lara shook her head. “I guess it’s bad that I’ve seen people so close to me but… I don’t know, I would rather have them dead than ever see them again.”
“You ain’t ever want to see someone again?” Denver turned towards her, “What if your mama died or somethin’?”
Lara chuckled at his response. “Well, not to be too dark but, I’d be a little relieved.” She parked in the driveway. Both of them stayed glued to the car through their conversation.
“Okay, bad example. What about your dad then?”
Lara froze and listened to her Chevy’s resting ticks and creaks, trying to think of what to say, “I never thought of him as dead… I just felt like that a grave has been dug, it’s good to visit it but never dig it back up, ya know?” Lara relined back in her seat, expecting to see another pair of glowing white eyes in Denver’s vast backyard—a ghost of someone else's past. “Do you think we can do anything about these dead people everywhere? What are we gonna do when its, not some freak chance of nature that its someone we know? We’re probably just gonna be killed by them.”
Denver placed a hand on Lara’s arm, “We survived so far, and we’ll take care of whatever comin’ to us.”
“We survived by chance,” Lara slammed a fist into the car’s console. “Not cause’ some will or strength, all we got is chance. We can’t live the rest of our lives on chance. We’re stuck in a tiger cage instead of a town, deaths will happen sooner or later, and it gonna happen by those things,” Lara rested her head in one hand.
Denver trailed his fingers down the back of Lara’s hand, “There ain’t nothin’ that’ll be too much for us… Okay? We can find some way to kill em.” Denver smiled, but Lara felt put off by it. She cared about him—more than she possibly cared for anyone in her entire life—but she couldn’t come to terms with his perspective.
“Have you seen any damn zombie movie? You can’t kill em things. They are just gonna keep comin’ and-” Lara began to tear up and was unsure why. “No matter how hard you try to forget about em’ they’ll always come back up. Always in the back of your mind.” A tear streamed down her left cheek.
“Lara, this ain’t a movie. I’ll protect you no matter what, you got it?” Lara looked back at him and tried to smile, but only uttered a weather-worn smirk.
“Why…”
Denver’s fingers motioned the bottom of her chin towards him. Their lips met. He hopped out of his door and into his house. He faced her as he opened the door.
As Lara locked her truck, she felt a strange fearful energy within Denver’s house. Was it the rain… maybe comin’ back feels odd… maybe that talk we just had… hang on, is that? Lara sniffed at the air. Smoke? Denver don’t smoke, does he? And dad ain’t ever smelt like that. She raised her nose in the air once more… Camel? She turned around and froze as she looked at the dining room table. Her father’s hands were empty, yet across the table, smoke whirled in the air. Someone sat across the table. A hand with long, red-painted nails held that all too familiar smell—Nails that Lara knew were a murky yellow underneath their cherry painted lies.
“Lara, I’m so sorry,” Lara’s mother stood up and hugged her. Lara patted her back. She swore the last time her mother held her was when she was five. “I’m so… so sorry… listen,” her mother put both hands on her shoulders. “I’ve felt so much anger and regret after your father vanished that I took it out on you… I know that I was shit most of the time. Your father came back and told me just about everything and… you don’t gotta forgive me but, I’m sorry, okay?” Lara gave her a reluctant smile, then hugged her dad. “Denver, I’m Melissa, Lara’s mom, I’m real sorry I had to pop in like this.”
Denver leaned on the doorway between the kitchen and the living room and raised his hand in a palms-up retreat. “Nah, it’s all good. I’m just wonderin’ when the rest of the crew is gonna come in so y’all can have a Glass family reunion.”
Melissa gave an awkward chuckle and a dinner party smile, “after we heard the news, I just knew I had to fess up and see her again.” Lara and Denver looked at each other in unified confusion.
“News?” They said in tandem. Danny looked at Denver, concerned.
“You didn’t hear anything? Jesus… It’s all over the TV and the radio?”
Denver flicked on the antique, wooden radio in the kitchen. The dial lit mustard yellow.
“It’s on just about every workin’ station.”
The radio spoke in a deep newscast like a voice that reminded Lara of something from a 1950s drama.
…INDOORS I REPEAT STAY INDOORS. THIS IS A NATIONAL GOVERNMENT WARNING ISSUED FOR JOSELEAN SPRINGS. A EXALTATION HAS OCCURRED NEAR ELK HORN WOODS… THERE ARE DARK BEINGs WALKING IN THE STREETS. THEY ARE NOT HUMAN, AND THEY ARE NOT HARMFUL—AS LONG AS YOU DO NOT HARM THEM. THERE ARE UPWARDS OF A HUNDRED OF THESE CREATURES ROAMING THE LAND. STAY INDOORS. CLOSE ALL WINDOWS, CURTAINS, AND BLINDS. OFFER NO INDICATION TO THEM OF LIFE. THEY ARE ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE TO KILL. IF ONE IS CAPTURED, IT IS PREFERRED THAT YOU SHOOT IT AND EVACUATE, OR BURN AND SHOCK IT FOR 5 MINUTES… AN UPDATE WILL BE RELEASED AT 9AM…
The message clicked and repeated. Denver’s teeth chattered as the message sunk into him. Rain trickled on the window. Lara felt her heart prance in racehorse like thumps. She turned to her father and held him.
They sat in silence. Denver got up to check all windows, only to find that Danny already closed and locked each one. Lara could feel her muscles twitching and convulsing. Her palms made that troublesome burning sensation, Lara broke the silence.
“Dad, how did you control what you had?” She raised her spark swarmed palm.
Danny searched for a random item in the kitchen to channel her energy with, “Oh shit… um, just try to be calm.”
Lara tried to ‘be calm’, but all it did was hold it there. She wanted to pull out this thorn of an ability, not have it sleep. “Ain’t workin’!” Lara tried to shake the static off as if it were a bug.
“Put it into something else,” Danny said. She was about to make a rebuttal about how her mother certainly channeled her energy into something else, but knew it was inappropriate.
Channel, channel, channel. She looked around the room for anything
to toss her ability into. The pain intensified, rising up her arm in bolts. She almost grabbed the radio as its repetitive message from hell beat into her ears. Damn it, we need that thing. Just as she thought she would warp away, she grabbed a mug with a red cartoon flower on one side of it. The second she touched it, the red flower melted off the printing. The mug blipped into all sorts of sizes and colors before finally settling on a yellow sports print with hot coffee still inside of it.
Lara stared at the mug as if it were a flying saucier. “Well, somebody’s bouta’ have a shit morning’.”
Melissa pulled back a hair spray stiffened strand of blond hair out of her face and turned to Danny, “She got somethin’ too?”
“We’re not sure what though,” Danny smiled. “We’ll know soon enough, I think its got somethin’ to do with time, space, and whatnot. Lara, ya got any ideas?”
Lara sat down, looking at her hands, “I can take things between places. For example, my old friend just um…” She looked around, trying to make herself look lost in words when in truth, she was lost in emotion.
They hadn’t known Butch and never could. It was as if she were losing an imaginary friend. Just say he died, that he kicked his own god damn bucket instead of dancing around it. She lost so many people in one week that she became used to it, as if in the afternoon someone could just pop out of existence, and it would be as normal as the sun setting. Underneath the table, Denver placed a hand on Lara’s leg. “I drove down to where he used to live, and I shot off to a time when he was alive… I do not understand how to start it, it just kinda sparks up.”
Her father patted her shoulder. “We’re gonna find out how to use that for your own good… We got all day tomorrow while we’re stuck here…”
Last night she could hardly sleep. The fear of something stumbling around the house kept her up. Her dreams calmed down now that Althea died. She still had those snapshots of deja vu. In fact, she swore she saw one of this window. Lara drempt of water. She was submerged and upside down, a deep black hung over her head as a sky. The water’s surface danced along her feet. A person floated in the water, fingers and hair sprawled in every angle. She heard someone gasp, then woke up.
Out There: A Rural Horror Story Page 24