When Two Worlds Collide

by Jerome Sitko

  “Yes, I’m so thirsty and hungry, that sounds great. What is your name again?” she asks, licking her lips. “Who are you? You are so nice and handsome. You’re very handsome,” she says to Charlie with a little wink.

  “I’m Mr. Stratt, we’ve been good friends for a long time,” he says as he motions for Rebecca to release Delphine from the bondage of the monkey table.

  The dining hall falls silent, the prisoners don’t understand what is happening, but are intently watching what is playing out at the little table. Delphine is released and stands, clear white liquid mixing with the blood on her face.

  Charlie takes her hand and pulls her close to him, and they begin a grotesque, slow ballroom dance toward the big table.

  “Here my lady, please take the seat of honor,” he says, helping her sit.

  She giggles.

  Charlie feels fully vindicated now and picks up a small stainless-steel paring knife and hands it to her.

  “Do you know what sounds good? Cheek, so tender and the texture is to die for,” he says, licking his lips.

  Delphine nods in agreement and begins carving off a piece of her right cheek. She licks it and then pops it into her mouth, oohing and awing to herself the way someone would when eating a luxurious chocolate truffle.

  Charlie stands and takes a modest bow and walks toward the door.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the buffet is now open,” he says to the room, knowing when he leaves the prisoners will rip her apart and devour her.

  Charlie never found out what happened after he left that night. The prisoners did feast and have their short-lived revenge. Like Charlie, Delphine is a general in Erebus’s army and an important cog in their evil machine. Erebus resurrected her and restored her power and authority in full. The hell the prisoners lived prior to that night feels like a Disneyland vacation compared to now. Even if Charlie did know what was going to happen to the prisoners, he would not have cared or changed that night. That night was all about Charlie getting his revenge and now he has a clear mind and is laser-focused on the boys.

  S

  Amy walks through the slaughterhouse door and takes in her new Adamah surroundings. It’s pitiful compared to what she is used to back in Chicago. She’s out in the country with no sign of life anywhere other than a few birds singing in the trees. She wonders why Charlie would send her to this forsaken place. She was happy at the drug den. In fact, she prefers the homeless degenerates compared to this empty shithole. All she can think is Charlie is punishing her for something, but she does not know why. She’s one of his best producers and she knows he likes how violent and sadistic she is when she turns the recruits. He did not offer an explanation. He just ordered her to this place with no further instruction. If he sent her, then it must be for a reason. But why didn’t he send Ryan with her? They are a team.

  Charlie has a plan for Amy. If things go bad between him and the kids and he needs some backup, he wants the most ruthless and obedient groupling in his army. She will do what he wants without question. The other reason Charlie wants her here is Ryan. If he has to bring Ryan, Amy will help keep him in check.

  It’s daytime and the sun is beating down on her. Something she’s not used to in Chicago where she normally only enters the city at night. She cannot smell the fumes from automobiles, the rot of trash piled in the alleys, or the buzz of humans around her. She does not like it. Everything feels wrong.

  She begins walking down the lonely dirt road close to the edge to take advantage of the shade of the trees. She wants to find new hunting grounds and she knows it’s not here. She will have to walk for nearly an hour before she reaches I-84, passing a couple of farmhouses along the way. She finally sees a sign, a huge semi-truck hoisted up in the air and on the side of the trailer it reads Baker Truck Corral. She found a truck stop and she’s recruited from them before. Her parched lips crack a smile and she hastens her pace toward it.

  She doesn’t even make it ten feet into the parking lot when she hears someone whistle. The catcall is coming from a brown and white Peterbilt cab-over idling in the lot. It’s a young truck driver standing in the shade of the semi. He’s a good-looking man wearing brown boots, blue jeans, and a red baseball cap. He’s noticeably missing his shirt and his six-pack abs are glistening from sweat. Amy immediately turns toward him and she can feel his eyes undressing her with every step.

  “Damn missy, you’re way too pretty to be walking around this dump alone. You with anybody?” he asks as he reaches into his cab and pulls out a white T-shirt. He uses it to wipe the sweat from his body and then tosses it back inside. He notices she doesn’t answer him but keeps walking toward his truck. He thinks she must be a lot lizard, a prostitute. Most women from around here don’t look as pretty as her and her clothes sure ain’t country.

  When she reaches the truck, she slides next to him to share the shade. He gets a good look at her and winks. She’s short and beautiful. Her sweat has inadvertently turned her white blouse see-through and he has a hard time not staring at her black bra underneath. If a strong wind comes up it will blow her short mini-skirt up and he will get another free peek. He now wishes for wind.

  “I’m Amy, what’s your name?” she asks, wiping sweat from her forehead.

  He smiles. “Everyone calls me hot Carl.” He pulls the T-shirt back out and offers it to her.

  She curls her nose. She’ll be damned if she uses his truck-driver sweaty shirt.

  “You want to go inside and get a cold ice tea? My treat,” he asks her. “Or, I have some cold water and some beers inside.”

  He points to his cab and hopes she declines the offer to go into the truck stop. He really doesn’t want anyone else seeing her with him. Not because he’s married or embarrassed she might be a lot lizard, but for another reason.

  “I’ll take a beer. Does your truck have A/C?” she asks, tracing a bead of sweat with her finger as it rolls down her neck between her cleavage.

  “Hell yeah, jump in,” Hot Carl says with a twinkle in his ice-blue eyes.

  After about thirty minutes and three cans of beer, they decide to go to Amy’s place so they can make some noise without the worry of nosy neighbors hearing them. They drive until they are on a deserted road and then it happens.

  Amy is out of her element and does not react quickly enough to the syringe stabbed into her neck. Carl has injected her with a dose of succinylcholine, SUX for short. A drug that causes muscular paralysis and keeps the victim wide awake.

  Hot Carl pulls over, the slaughterhouse in view ahead of him. He reaches over and pinches Amy’s nipple hard, and cracks a shit-eating grin. She does not react, but he knows she is awake. She cannot breathe on her own and he knows she will expire soon. He verbally belittles her while having his way.

  What Amy did not know is she met her human match—a sadistic misogynist that would make even Charlie proud. His hatred of women stems back to his childhood and his dad’s second wife.

  He opens the door and pushes Amy out of the cab. She dies in Adamah and maybe her death is fitting after all that she has done alive and as a groupling.

  CHAPTER 7

  Ryan, It’s Me!

  Ominous, dark, and haunting, the abandoned factory begins to come into view ahead of them. Lance automatically glances up at the orange sky to see if it’s filled with black vultures. It’s not, and they at least have that on their side. The closer they get, the more anxious the boys become.

  The factory is where it all happened—where the kids world almost ceased to exist.

  They really, really don’t want to go in there. Lance can’t help think that there’s got to be another way, another way to save Ryan without going into that fucking hell hole.

  Jeremy is visibly shaking in the back seat and his mind has basically shut down. The impending doom is too much for his fragile mental state and his stomach agrees as its goaded into involuntary spasms.<
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  Lance notices that there are no grouplings littering the landscape and the road is not bubbled and cracked with massive sinkholes.

  He remembers their first trip. The sky was black with highwaymen and thousands of grouplings were migrating toward the factory. Charlie ordered Joey to run them over and to quit swerving to avoid them. And then the earth began rolling, cracking, and breaking, swallowing huge chunks of road.

  None of that is present now. It’s as if that never happened, but it does nothing to ease Lance or the other boys’ minds.

  They arrive and the red Camaro is parked right where they left it next to the retaining wall. It’s now covered in a thick layer of red dust. Reno parks next to it, not knowing its significance, and none of the boys offer to tell her that this is the car they rode in with Charlie.

  As they exit the car, Joey hears his specter who he has now named, Harpy. “Take them to the room.”

  Joey knows what room he’s talking about. It’s the room where all of it happened; the rift opening, Charlie turning into a spinning glob of who-the-fuck knows-what, and it’s where the phoenixes helped Lance defeat Charlie. Joey doesn’t want to go into the room and he knows for damn sure Lance and Jeremy don’t want to.

  “No,” he blurts out to Harpy.

  To frighten Joey, Harpy reveals itself and it’s hideous—a large, skinny, gray, bald, aberration of evil. Its eyes are the size of a fist, black with no pupils. Its body is wiry and defined, with cuts and scars covering nearly every inch. But it’s the mouth that really scares Joey. Its mouth runs from ear to ear, except it has no ears, and the inside is black with a small pink tongue like a fish. It has two rows of uneven, long, sharp feline teeth that are yellowed and black, some of them broken and jagged.

  “I said take them to the room!” Harpy thunders at Joey, sending him toppling back into the Camaro.

  The other kids stare at Joey, confused, wondering if he tripped on something. Joey is the only one that can see and hear his new friend.

  “You okay, Jo-Jo, you clumsy twat?” Jeremy chides in a joking tone.

  “Yeah, douchebag. I slipped,” Joey says as he slaps the rear end of the Camaro and moves to the door and wipes the dust from the window.

  All three boys look inside. None of them brave enough to even try and open the door. The inside looks just as they remembered, bad.

  As Lance relives the moment when he handed Jeremy his talisman, right before he jumped out of the car killing himself, Emma finally communicates with him. Emma and Harpy are unaware that the other exists, communicating with their respective boys. They can’t see or feel the other’s presence.

  “Lance, do not go into the factory. Ryan is not there,” Emma says, warning him that Charlie has laid a trap.

  “Thank God. We really didn’t want to go in there,” Lance says quietly as he pulls Joey and Jeremy away from the car. They offer no resistance. In fact, they are glad.

  “Where is he then?” he asks as he motions for everyone to get into the GTO so they can make a hasty escape.

  Harpy is furious that they are back in the car and not going into the factory. They must go into the factory.

  It flashes again showing Joey its anger. “Go into the factory, all of you now, or your friends will die.” It can’t physically hurt them, but it can try to scare Joey into compliance. “Now!” Its snarled face twists and its eyes bulge, its veins pulsing and bursting on its head and neck.

  Joey knows they are in trouble if they don’t act fast and his fear succumbs him to where he can’t think straight. He pulls his knife out of his pocket, expecting the worst is about to happen. Harpy grins and points to the sky. Joey follows Harpy’s hand and can see hundreds of black dots speckling the sky. It’s the highwaymen. The other kids have not seen them yet. They must act fast.

  “Fuck! The highwaymen are coming!” Joey screams, pointing. As soon as the other kids see them, they join his screams. Reno starts the GTO and speeds away from the factory.

  Jeremy yells, “What about Ryan? Isn’t he in the factory? We need to save him!”

  “No, he’s not in there. The factory is a trap. We should’ve never come,” Lance answers, looking back at Joey.

  Now Lance knows Joey set them up, convinced them to come to the factory, but why? Maybe if they survive, he will ask him. He now has no doubt in his mind that Joey is working against them, either on purpose or inadvertently. He hopes for the latter.

  The highwaymen are close now, close enough that Reno can clearly see one of their heads, and it scares the shit out of her. She screams just as the vulture slams into the back of the car, testing the shocks, forcing the car to bounce. The vulture is flopping on the road behind them, its mouth gaped open, neck twisted, and its left-wing bent and twisted behind its body.

  Jeremy is sure they will all die, never get out of this wicked place alive. He decides there is no chance of escape so he leans forward and puts his arms over his head, waiting for the final death blow he knows is coming.

  More and more vultures smash into the car, breaking the windows and leaving huge dents in the roof and trunk. So far, they have been lucky. There’s no damage to the engine or tires; the car is still operational.

  “What do we do? Where do we go? If there was ever a time to help, now is the time,” Lance asks Emma, half expecting a reply.

  “Keep driving. There is a building up ahead. It’s a portal and I believe it will lead to Ryan,” Emma answers.

  “Keep driving, Reno. There’s a building. We want to get to that building,” Lance says.

  Reno is pushing the speed past the century mark and the car is humming along with more to give, other than a slight wobble it is handling fine. She bobs and weaves across the road minimizing the accuracy of the highwaymen. Many of them end up on the road behind them, crumpled and flopping in pain. The kids are now optimistic that they are going to make it to the new building in part due to Reno’s driving. They have to make it, whatever and wherever the building is.

  S

  Charlie has just left Delphine’s house when he has a vision and sees the GTO driving away from the factory. He is incensed that Joey’s specter failed. He commands more highwaymen and grouplings toward the kids. He will throw everything he has at them. He knows where they are going now: the movie theater.

  S

  They come screaming in hot and Reno does her best to regain control of the GTO as the passenger side slams into the brick building, pinning the passenger door closed. They are at the movie theater, a yellow, 1960s art deco building with large arches outlining, Copeland Theater. The marquee below reads, “Alfred Hitchcock’s, Psych-.” The “o” is long gone.

  All four of them get out of the vehicle on the driver’s side, highwaymen still bombarding them with their kamikaze suicide dives, smashing into the GTO, the building, and street, withering and letting out shrieks of pain so loud it sounds like a loudspeaker next to their grotesque beak–snouts. The kids run past the boarded-up ticket booth and through the ornate glass double doors leading to the lobby.

  Once inside, they frantically look around for a safe place. The red and yellow carpet below their feet is frayed and ripped. Joey runs toward the auditorium to the right while the other three turns left leading to a set of stairs.

  “Joey, what are you doing? Don’t go in there. Follow us!” Reno screams as she reaches the bottom of the stairwell. Joey stops dead in his tracks, feet away from the auditorium doors and swivels pointing himself in their direction and runs just as the doors slam open and grouplings come pouring out, chasing after him.

  “Shit, shit, help!” Joey yells, running as fast as he can, past the concession stand toward the stairs. At least twenty grouplings are chasing him. And they’re fast.

  Lance reaches the top of the stairs and before he grabs the door handle he says a very quick prayer, “Please let the door be unlocked.”

 
It’s locked.

  “Shit no!” he screams, kicking the door. Now all four of them are trapped in the little stairwell. Jeremy pushes the others out of the way and shoulder checks the door as hard as he can. He hits it with so much force he falls back and all of them tumble down the stairs. They are trapped and Charlie’s grouplings are now approaching the bottom getting ready to make their way up.

  “Emma, please help us,” Lance says out loud, now that his prayer to God didn’t work.

  “Lance, you can open the door; you can stop the undead; you must believe in yourself,” she replies.

  “How, how the hell can I stop them? There’re too many.” He’s hopeless and upset that Emma has left them for as good as dead.

  “You have the power Lance, use it.”

  Reno is toward the bottom of the stairwell and one of the grouplings grabs her leg and begins pulling her into the pack. If Lance doesn’t act fast, she is dead.

  “STOP!” he screams from the top of the stairs, his voice echoing through the building. He’s pointing at the groupling holding Reno and flicks his hand shooing it away. The groupling flies backward and smashes into the others, dropping all of them like pins in a bowling alley.

  Holy shit, did I do that? he thinks as the grouplings clamor to their feet.

  The other three kids are staring at him like he’s a freak. Lance feels a sudden hot, searing pain in his chest and looks down, the talisman glowing blue hot is melting into his chest and disappears, only the faintest glow just under his skin remains. Lance feels empowered.

  This is what Emma was talking about all this time. Lance finally understands. The talisman is more than just a rock. Emma is more than just a guardian angel. All of it, all this time, it has been molding Lance; his power grows stronger and stronger each day.

  It’s weird, but now he knows what he can do, how to use his powers. It’s as if he’s had them all this time and he’s a practiced tactician.