by D V Wolfe
“Ok,” Noah breathed. “I think I’m out.”
I twisted the knob on the faucet and we hurried back to Lucy and climbed in. I turned the engine over and looked up at the steam and smoke curling above us, like a ‘come get us’ beacon. I saw a flash of light in the rearview mirror, back towards the trailer park. It was bright, like a hunting spotlight. Noah turned in his seat to look behind us.
“Oh shit! They see us!”
We sprayed gravel and fish-tailed on our way out of the lot. We hit the main road and a set of headlights flicked on behind us.
“Oh shit,” Noah said. “Oh shit, oh shit!”
While Noah tried to calm himself with his ‘oh shit’ mantra, I retraced our route from the main road. I checked the rearview mirror and saw a black Town Car roll under a pool of area light behind us. They were catching up. I turned suddenly, heading for the main street. I looked behind us and I saw two sets of headlights turn with us. Great. I took a quick right and we hit the main drag. The winds and hail were starting to pick up again. We were heading out of the eye of the storm. This time, I was hoping it would help us.
I saw the sign for 65 East ahead and I took the ramp at fifty-five miles an hour and shifted into a higher gear. I’d have gone faster, but the wind was pushing against us so much that fifty-five was as fast as we could go. I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the first Town Car backsliding into the second as it tried to follow up the ramp. The wind let up for a moment and Lucy shot forward, into a wall of hail and rain. It was pounding down so hard and fast that the wipers couldn’t keep up at their maximum speed. We were back to being only able to see a foot in front of us, this time due to rain and hail, rather than clouds of dirt. I kept straight, hoping that we were not about to miss a curve that I’d forgotten about.
“Are they still behind us?” I asked, doing my best to keep my voice as calm as possible. When we’d taken the on-ramp, Noah’s mantra had become whimpering, and now he was just making periodic ‘sucking-air’ sounds.
Noah turned in his seat and stared out the back window. “I can’t…(sucking air)...see headlights.”
“That went better than I expected,” I said.
“The getaway?” Noah asked, his voice cracking.
“The whole shebang,” I said. “Though, it would have been really nice if we’d seen Festus while we were there.” I glanced over at Noah and gave him my best reassuring smile. Then a thought hit me. “Where’s the ten-gauge?”
Noah turned slowly to look out the back window again. I gave an inward sigh. Oh well. It was just a gun.
“We’re going to need a bigger boat,” Noah muttered.
19
We took an exit to Stevensville and I white-knuckled us down the ramp. There was a one-star motel on the edge of town, closest to the highway and I pulled into the parking lot. I picked up my phone and looked at the screen. No calls missed. I tried Gabe again. Got his voicemail again. I didn’t leave another message. I took a deep breath and turned to look at Noah.
“You didn’t happen to see any evidence of Festus between disappearing and burning down a cannibal, did you?”
Noah shook his head. “No, but there was this RV, parked behind this other one that was backed up to the bonfire. There were bars on the windows and there was a lot of screaming coming from inside.”
“Sounds like a good place to start in our Festus scavenger hunt,” I said.
“So what do we do now?” Noah asked.
I pulled out my phone. I dialed Stacks. It rang. No answer. I tried Tags. Same thing. I swallowed my pride and tried Rosetta. It rang and rang. No answer. I tried her house phone. No answer. Was this my punishment? A sharp pain seized my chest at the memory of Rosetta’s face, twisted in hurt and rage when she’d thrown my keys. That hadn’t been the way I’d wanted to say my final goodbyes to all of them. I looked over at Noah. What had I done to him by burning those bridges?
“What’s the plan?” Noah asked, a little more anxiously, his eyes searching my face for reassurance.
I looked over at the Vacancy sign on the hotel. The wind was still blowing and it was raining, but nothing like it was between here and Sicily. I nodded to the front office. “I’m going to get us a room. I think I might have better luck with a landline in this storm than using a cell phone and we need to call in all the infantry we can.” It was a lie, of course, but worth a try for Noah’s sake.
When we were settled into the room, I sat down with the phone while Noah ran salted tape across the threshold and under the windows.
I tried Stacks, Tags, Walter, and Rosetta again, leaving them each a message, asking, almost begging them, to call me. I gave them the number for the motel room’s landline too, in case they couldn’t get through on my cell. When I replaced the receiver, I just stared at the floor. The panic inside me was turning my insides cold. I fought against it. It had to be a coincidence. I tried Gabe again. Nothing. I tried not to let my mind wander down the possibilities with why Gabe wasn’t answering. I expanded my search and decided to try calling Pitch’s. The phone rang and rang. No one was at Pitch’s? I’d never known that to happen. It was always open and there were always hunters in and out.
I took my shaking hands off the phone and put them on the table, willing them to stop trembling and willing them to not throw the phone across the room. No one was coming. No one was answering their phones. I picked up the phone and called everyone again. No one picked up. I scrolled through the phone book on my cell phone. I tried Vince and Mick. Nothing. I tried the number I had for Joel. Nothing. I had no more phone numbers to try. I turned my head to look at Noah. He was sitting on the edge of one of the beds, watching me, his face white.
“No one?” he asked.
“Right now it’s just me and you,” I said, pushing my anger and fear down. I took a deep breath. “And we need a plan.”
We laid out everything from my duffle on the table. There weren’t any maps at the front office, but I was able to snag some scratch paper out of the trash can next to the check-in counter while the woman behind the desk had her back turned. I handed Noah the scratch paper which seemed to consist entirely of junk mail and smeared pages from a printer. Noah flipped the pages over and moved to sit in one of the chairs at the table.
“Ok,” Noah said. “So we just need a plan.” Noah pulled a pen from his bag and leaned over the paper. “What about one of us causing a distraction and the other one sneaking up behind them?”
I shook my head. “One of us is going to distract somewhere between sixty and a hundred cannibals while the other one takes them out?”
Noah frowned and scratched it out on the paper.
“What about bait?” I asked. “One of us could be the bait and draw them out one by…”
Noah held up a hand. “I’m going to stop you right there. I’m pretty sure which one of us you’re planning to make ‘bait’.”
The night wore on and as it did, our plans became more and more unrealistic. Finally, Noah threw the pen down and pushed the paper away. “It can’t be done. Two of us, cannot save Festus and take down a hundred cannibals.”
I rubbed my eyes. “I was able to escape. There has to be something we’re missing.”
“Bane, that had to be a one in a hundred shot that you were able to get away,” Noah said. “And you used a grenade, which you only have one more of, and you weren’t trying to rescue anyone.” Noah laid his head down on the table and knocked over a rock salt shell, with his finger.
I sighed and looked around the room. As if they were mocking us and our shitty situation, the visions of the burning citizens of Ashley were back, crowding the room around Noah and I as we thought of and discarded idea after idea, trying to figure out a workable two-person plan. Finally, after watching the burning images of Henry and Rose Drummond die holding each other as they sunk into the earth for the twentieth time, I got to my feet. Noah sat up.
“Where are you going?”
“Just to the truck. I need to get my pil
ls.” I hustled out in the rain and dug around in the cab until I found the pill bottle. It was getting pretty light. I popped the cap and turned the bottle over in my hand. A single pill rolled out. Fan-fucking-tastic. For the last couple of days, I’d had to up my dose to two and sometimes three a day to keep the visions away. Either I was becoming immune to the pills, the pills weren’t as potent as they were the first time, or the visions were becoming stronger. Most likely it was some sick combination of all three. I leaned against the cab and stared at the single pill in my hand.
How the fuck was I supposed to fight raging, demon-powered cannibals and keep Noah safe when I could barely see the cannibals around the burning bodies of the citizens of Ashley? I glanced up and saw old Effie Walters glaring at me from outside the passenger side window, her hair and shoulders burning like a beacon as the flames consumed her. I closed my eyes, threw my head back, and swallowed the pill. I made a pit stop at the motel’s front office on my way back to the room and got a phone book. The woman behind the counter gave me a strange look and made a comment about never having such a ‘needy’ guest. When I got back to the room, I sat down at the table and flipped the phone book open to the services section of the yellow pages.
“What are you doing?” Noah asked.
“Looking for a miracle,” I said. I ran my finger down the page and paused at the very short, one entry listing under Psychics. There was one occult shop listed; The Night Phage. And it was in Stevensville. I dialed the number and got a recorded message. It would be open at eight the next morning.
“Who are you calling now?” Noah asked.
“I’m out of pills,” I said. Noah went even paler, which I actually found impressive.
“You mean, you’re seeing the burning people? Like, now?” Noah looked around as if he was expecting them to attack him at any moment.
“I had one left,” I said. “They’re fading right now.”
“Why didn’t you save it?” Noah asked.
I didn’t know how to explain to Noah how crushing and maddening it was to watch the people of Ashley burning to death, over and over. I probably should have saved it. What if the occult shop couldn’t do anything to help? Then what? Rosetta definitely wasn’t going to help me. There was an invisible boot, pressing on my chest, reminding me of the things I’d said to her. Rosetta. A woman who had always tried to help me, even when and sometimes because it went against what I wanted. And she’d been right. I wished she’d answer her phone so I could tell her she was right, take a lecture and a mental brow-beating and then hear her offer her help. But I doubted I’d ever get that chance again. That look she’d given me…
“Bane,” Noah said. “What about the cannibals? Can you fight without…”
“It’s ok,” I said, turning my attention back to Noah. “It’s all going to be ok. I found an occult shop here in town. We’ll go there tomorrow when they open and I’ll get some new pills or a vision-patch or the gum or something. Then, we’ll see if we can find some books on Red Moon Rites and I’m sure we’ll find something that will help us form a plan to take down the cannibals.” I watched Noah’s face as he digested all this and a little color started to come back into his cheeks.
“Ok,” he said, looking down at the piece of paper in front of him. He shuffled the paper to the back and started writing on a clean page. “First, we go to this shop. Second, we get something to stop your visions. Third, we learn about Red Moon Rites.” He paused and looked up at me. “Why do we need to learn about this ‘rite’ thing?”
“After Festus’ vision, I have a hunch that he’s a part of it somehow and that’s why they’re saving him. Even if by some miracle, we were able to get in, get Festus, and get out, the tribe would still be coming after us. We need to shut them down and I think gatecrashing this ‘rite’ thing that they’re planning might be a good start, but we need to know what it is, first.”
Noah looked slightly ill, but he nodded and looked back down at the page. “I thought demon rites were bad. I don’t even want to imagine what the cannibal rites will be like.”
“Good plan,” I said. “Don’t imagine it.”
“Ok,” Noah said, breathing deep. “We find out about this ‘Red Moon Rite’ and then we work out a plan to take down the cannibals.” Noah leaned back and looked down at the four lines he’d written on the paper. “Easy, right? A four-step program.”
“Just like a granny playing the slots,” I said. Though, granny’s odds were a lot better than ours.
“Yeah,” Noah said. He took a deep breath and sighed, closing his eyes. I watched the Garrison family rush through Noah where he sat as they chased Truman, their English Shepherd dog. All three Garrisons were on fire and Truman was howling as he tried to lick himself and run to put the flames out. I could hear their calls and his howls inside my head. The visions were getting louder too.
“Well, I’m gonna rest my eyes for a minute, if that’s ok?” Noah asked, turning an exhausted face towards me.
I nodded. “Why don’t you lay down.”
Noah didn’t argue.
Hours later, I sat at the table, staring out the window and listening to Noah. After I’d heard Noah’s breathing even out, telling me he’d fallen asleep, I’d tried calling everyone again from my cell phone and from the room phone. No one had answered. The message was clear. Walter had given the warning. I’d ignored it. Stacks had tried to reason with me that Harbingers are never wrong, and I’d ignored it. Tags had tried to stop me from leaving, and I’d gone around him. And Rosetta… That face. I felt an invisible gut-punch to the stomach. That face would be the last expression I’d ever see from Rosetta, looking at me. Pain and anger.
I squeezed my cell phone tighter in my hand. There was still no call from Gabe. The question of whether or not he was dead was becoming less of a question. One more thing that I had caused, asking him to put his life on the line for this. No call from Nya, but that wasn’t exactly new. I flipped my cell phone open and looked at the lit screen. It flashed the time and date. June 4th, 2:08 am.
I had one hundred and forty-nine days left to save somewhere between four hundred and four hundred and eighty souls. Not good odds, especially when combined with our odds for tomorrow. I could hear screams and faint cries as if from the other end of a tunnel. I looked around at the crowd of burning visions, closing in on me as I gave them my full attention. I knew the cries and screams were coming from them, growing stronger and louder as time sped by. I closed my eyes, and with no way to stop them, I let the visions and sounds close in on me.
20
I fell into an uneasy sleep and awoke to Noah shaking me on the shoulder.
“Did you sleep there all night?” Noah asked, motioning to the chair I’d passed out in.
I leaned forward, rubbing the back of my neck. “I guess so. What time is it?”
“Uh,” Noah craned his neck around to look at the clock on the nightstand between the two beds. “Looks like 7:45.”
We packed up and got everything back into the truck. The rain had grown in fury again and the hail bounced off our heads as he ducked into the cab. I’d scribbled the address for The Night Phage onto the bottom of the scrap paper that Noah had outlined our four-step ‘success plan’ for the day on. Noah held onto the paper as if the meaning of life was scribbled between the inkjet smudges while we rolled slowly through the town squinting at street signs. It was 8:15 when we found Elm and turned down it, looking for a storefront. We didn’t find it. At the address listed for The Night Phage, there was a single-level bungalow with peeling brown paint and a car body that looked like it was from the 1970s half-hidden under waist-high weeds in the front yard.