The Incubus

by Len du Randt

  ‘Rick and Martha Evans continue the battle with medical staff and lawyers even a week after their son, Timmy Evans, had allegedly been brought back from the dead by an unknown man.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Justin said.

  ‘Discrepancies about the Timmy Evans Trust Fund will be settled by the High Court Judge this coming Friday.’

  The telephone rang. Justin muted the television and answered the phone with a curt, ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hello, Justin?’

  ‘Yes...?’

  ‘This is Lance.’

  Justin flinched. His boss calling him at home after hours could not be good. ‘Hey Lance. What can I do for you?’

  Lance hesitated. ‘I...the company needs you to go to another site.’

  Justin didn’t say anything.

  ‘One of the engineers on a mine that we do outsourcing for is going on leave for a week and we need someone reliable and able to fill his spot.’

  Justin paused for a moment. Long enough for Rebecca’s humming to fill his ears. ‘By when do you need an answer?’

  ‘Right now, if possible,’ Lance said. ‘Look, I know this is short notice, but we need the replacement on site by tomorrow morning.’

  Justin bit his lip. Rebecca wasn’t going to like this. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She probably needs the time alone anyway, he thought.

  ‘Justin...?’

  ‘I...erm...all right. I’ll go,’ Justin said. ‘Where’s the mine?’

  ‘Wonderful,’ Lance said and let out a sigh of relief. He supplied the necessary directions and contact names and numbers of people that Justin would be working with during the coming week. Justin scribbled it down as quickly as possible, making a mental note to write it over more intelligibly just before he went to bed. ‘Just give me a call if you need anything, okay?’ Lance said.

  ‘I will; thanks.’

  Justin replaced the receiver and drew another deep breath. Getting this past Rebecca wasn’t going to be easy. He closed his eyes for a moment, and for that one specific moment in time everything was perfect again. He still had his old job. The two of them were still madly in love, like dating school children on a Friday afternoon. He missed those days where he was the man in the house, and wondered what went wrong. Losing the job was what went wrong. That’s what! He opened his eyes again to the reality of his life and reluctantly made his way to the kitchen.

   

   

  *    -    -    -    *

   

   

  He was right. Simon hated admitting it, but Justin was right. What good was Superman’s flying ability if he couldn’t control it? What good were any super hero’s abilities without the means of controlling it? But Simon was no super hero. He was just an average Joe trying to get by each day, which brought him to his next question.

  ‘Why me?’

  The only answer to his question was the persistent howling of the dogs in the neighbourhood. Simon wished that he had the ability to make them stop. But he didn’t. Not that he was aware of, anyway. He took off his shirt and placed a damp cloth on his face. The heat wave was slowly driving everyone out of their minds. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing, considering that no one could remember that it was he who raised Timmy from the dead. He wondered how much he actually had to do with any of it; both the resurrection and the people’s convenient memory loss.

  ‘Why am I so different?’ Simon asked out loud. ‘Why can I heal one person, and not another? Why do I have to know certain things about certain people?’

  Simon took the cloth from his face and walked over to the mirror where he stared deeply into his own eyes. ‘Who are you?’ he asked. ‘Why can you do these things?’

  The mirror merely mimicked the same question, awaiting the same answers. Answers that didn’t come.

   

   

  *    -    -    -    *

   

   

  ‘So you’re telling me that there is no one else that they can send?’

  She took it worse than he hoped she would. Justin shook his head. ‘I’m the only guy they trust enough to get the job done without losing the contract.’

  ‘What about Simon? I thought you said he was good.’

  ‘He’s brilliant,’ Justin said. ‘But they got him working on a more important site.’

  Rebecca turned her back on her husband. A tear streaked down her cheek. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. It was now or never. ‘If you leave,’ she said, ‘I’m going to my parents’ place, and this time I mean it.’

  ‘That’s actually a good idea,’ Justin said and softly placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘Getting out for a while might just be what you need at this point in time.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant,’ Rebecca said and shrugged off his hands. ‘If you go I’ll leave. And it won’t just be for a while.’ She turned to face him. ‘If you go, I’ll leave and I will never come back.’

   

   

  *    -    -    -    *

   

   

  Becky won’t really leave, Justin thought as he lay on the bed in the four star hotel room that Cybernetics Computers booked him into. She might go to her parents’ place, but she won’t leave for good.

  He sat up and flung his legs over the side of the bed. He had a few minutes to brush his hair and teeth, get dressed, and have a rushed breakfast before taking the twenty minute drive to the mine.

  Despite their few minor setbacks the past few months, there weren’t any real concerns for either of them. All married couples had their bumps in the road. It was part of life. He didn’t understand how Rebecca could get so upset about the whole on-site thing. It was just for a week. At least he now had a job. He didn’t like the idea of going away any more than she did, but he had to do it. Everything he did, he did for her.

  ‘What are you looking at?’ he asked the reflection in the mirror with a frown. The reflection frowned back. Justin brushed his teeth and then combed his hair. It had grown quite a bit over the past few weeks. He would have to make another appointment with the barber sooner or later. Justin flicked on his watch and only then did he realize that his wedding ring wasn’t on his finger.

  ‘Now where did I put it?’ Justin asked and looked around. He closed his eyes and tried to visualize what he did the previous evening. No. He could distinctly remember going to bed with it. He yanked the blankets from the bed and flapped it around to see if it didn’t perhaps fall off while he was sleeping. Did he go to sleep with it on? Now he couldn’t remember. Memories overlapped. It didn’t make any sense. He knew for certain that he didn’t leave the ring at home, because he could recall spinning it on the counter at the reception desk when he booked into his room. Or was it the previous time he booked into a room? He thought harder, but the more he tried to remember, the more images muddled his memory.

  ‘Oh well. I’ll have to look for it when I get back,’ Justin said and headed for the door. The ring could have been in one of the pockets in the clothing he wore the previous evening. It could be under the bed; wrapped between the blankets. Anything. Perhaps room service would find it and leave it on the bed stand for him. No time to look for it now.

  He was about to leave when his cell phone rang.

   

   

  *    -    -    -    *

   

   

  ‘It’s dead, Justin!’ Rebecca shouted into the receiver.

  ‘Calm down, Becky,’ Justin said over four hours’ drive away. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Lotus! He’s dead!’

  ‘Take a deep breath and tell me what happened.’

  ‘I...I don’t know. I wanted to feed him this morning and he just lay that the bottom of the cage.’

  ‘Are you sure that the bird is dead?’ Justin asked. ‘It might just be sick or something.’

  ‘His neck was completely twisted around,’ Rebec
ca refuted Justin’s argument.

  ‘It’s neck?’

  ‘Someone killed our bird!’ she raised her voice almost to a frantic scream. ‘Someone came in here and killed our bird!’

  ‘That’s absurd, Becky,’ Justin said while trying to keep his voice as calm and collected as he could manage. ‘Who would break into our apartment just to kill a bird? And why? Was anything stolen? Is there any sign of forced entry?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rebecca said. ‘Justin, please come home. I’m really scared. I don’t want to be alone anymore.’

  Justin didn’t say anything for a while. ‘I can’t come home,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you visit Tanya until I get back? In fact, weren’t you supposed to go to your parents’ place for the week?’

  ‘I don’t want to go anywhere,’ Rebecca said. ‘I want you here with me.’

  ‘I can’t be there right now, baby.’

  ‘Then I’m leaving,’ Rebecca said. ‘I can’t take this anymore.’

  ‘Are you going to your parents’ place?’

  Rebecca didn’t answer.

  ‘Becky?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I’m going.’

  ‘When will you be back?’

  ‘I warned you before,’ she said. ‘I’m not coming back.’

  ‘You’re kidding,’ Justin said. ‘Becky, you know that we both need me to have this job. We discussed this, remember? Short-term pain for long-term gain.’

  ‘Goodbye Justin.’

  ‘Becky, I...’

  The line cut with an abrupt click.

   

   

  *    -    -    -    *

   

   

  She managed to avoid his phone calls for three days, but by Thursday Rebecca realized that she wouldn’t be able to avoid him any longer. She needed to talk to him; not just about the work issues that she wanted to resolve, but because she needed to hear his voice. Somehow his voice always made her believe that everything was going to be okay, no matter how dire the circumstances.

  ‘Rebecca darling,’ her mother’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door. ‘Are you all right in there?’

  ‘I’m fine, mother,’ Rebecca lied.

  There was a pause on the other end of the door and then her mother spoke again. ‘Well, let me know if you need anything, okay?’

  ‘I will,’ Rebecca said; glad that her mother could catch a hint. ‘Thank you.’

  On her knees in front of the toilet, Rebecca thought about Justin before she jerked forward and once again, threw up.

   

  Chapter 8

   

   

  ‘Justin,’ Rebecca said and her grip tightened around the telephone. ‘I…I’m pregnant.’

   

  Chapter 9

   

   

  Robert almost didn’t hear the knock on his front door. He looked up, but made no effort to get up. He didn’t expect any visitors; neither did he want to entertain hawkers or door-to-door salesmen. He rubbed what little grey hair he had left with the palm of his hand and after waiting a moment, re-adjusted his reading glasses and continued filling out his crossword puzzle.

  Another knock; louder than the first.

  Robert looked up again and sighed. He rubbed the stubble on his face and frowned. ‘Who’s there?’ he shouted down the hallway.

  No answer.

  ‘Whatever you’re selling,’ Robert yelled from his couch, ‘I’m not interested! Now git!’ There was a moment that nothing happened. Robert leaned forward and looked down the hallway at the door. He couldn’t see the silhouette of feet in the thin strip of space between the floor and the door. Whoever it was must have left. Robert grinned.

  A sudden slamming on the door, like someone banging against it with a fist made Robert’s heart skip a beat. He fumbled with his glasses and threw the magazine on the table next to his couch. ‘I’m coming!’ Robert shouted as he made his way down the hallway towards the door. ‘Hold yer horses!’ He mumbled something under his breath as he pulled his robe tighter. He pressed his eye against the peep hole but couldn’t see anyone. ‘Who’s there?’ he demanded.

  No answer.

  Robert unlocked his door, but kept the chain on. He then opened it a crack and peered through it. ‘Who’s there?’ he asked again. Again no one answered. ‘Stupid kids,’ Robert said and closed the door. He considered locking it, but waited a moment instead. He would catch them in the act and teach them a lesson. On the first bang Robert yanked open the door. The sudden silence was just as disconcerting as the fact that there was no one standing on the other side.

  ‘What the heck—?’

  An invisible force struck the door, breaking the chain right off and sending a stunned Robert flying through the air. He crashed into the floor with a sickening thud and struck the back of his head against the side of his wall unit.

  The door slammed shut.

  ‘Who...who’s there?’ Robert yelled. Someone was in the apartment with him. Even though he couldn’t see anyone, he could feel it. He could sense the presence of something terribly evil. Robert dashed for the telephone and dialled an emergency number. Before it could ring on the other side, an invisible intruder ripped the phone from his hand and flung it across the room where it shattered as it crashed into the wall.

  Robert clutched his chest. Pain stabbed into his left arm. He took one look at the pieces of broken telephone and dashed for the door. Halfway there, a frying pan flew out from the kitchen and smacked him on the side of his head. The force of the blow snapped his neck and he fell to the ground, lifeless.

   

   

  *    -    -    -    *

   

   

  After a long week, Justin opened the door to a quiet apartment with a lingering odour. Instead of the cheerful voice of his wife as greeting, a damp smell and the overwhelming silence was his only welcome. He made his way to the living room and dropped his bags on the floor. The apartment seemed darker than usual, almost as if no light came through the windows anymore. Justin moved to the windows to open the curtains but was side tracked by the smell. It got worse the deeper he moved into the living room.

  The bird, he thought and walked to the cage. There was no doubt about it; the odour was indeed coming from the bird cage. Justin held his breath and looked inside the cage. The bird was lying on the bottom of the cage; stiff and dead. Justin leaned forward to take a closer look. Rebecca was right. Its neck had indeed been twisted around. There was no way that a bird’s neck could do that on its own. Justin took a few steps back from the cage and exhaled slowly. His stomach churned and he almost lost his lunch.

  The place is a mess, he thought. Although no more of a mess than usual, the apartment had a dirty feel to it that he hadn’t felt before. Dirty dishes lined the living room table, clothes were strewn on the floor, and the bed was unmade. This was the norm in the Greene household where both worked a full time job, but for some reason, it really bothered Justin. He picked up the plates and carried them back to the kitchen where he placed it in the sink. He ran hot water over the dishes to loosen up the hardened left-over food and would re-fill the sink with soapy water once he returned with Rebecca.

  Now for the hard part. He took an old newspaper and breathing only very slowly through the mouth, made his way to the bird cage. Justin wrapped the newspaper around the dead bird and carried it to the garbage bin where he promptly disposed of it.

  ‘What a dump’ Justin said as he drew back a curtain. He wondered if it was the exposure to the overly-neat hotel rooms that made him aware of what a mess their place had been all along. How did that motivational speaker once put it? Those who have nothing to do are so busy doing it that they don’t have time to clean up the mess that they live in.

  ‘Indeed,’ Justin said and surveyed the apartment. With the dishes stashed away and curtains now open, the place appeared somewhat better; but not a whole lot. Either way, i
t would have to do for now. It was getting dark and Justin had to meet Rebecca at her parents’ place. He took the garbage bag and sealed it with a knot. When he returned from the garbage bins, Justin grabbed his phone and keys and locked the door.

   

   

  *    -    -    -    *

   

   

  Something was wrong. Something evil was brewing. Simon could sense it, and so could the animals in the neighbourhood. There was something in the air; a sort of aura that made a person feel uncomfortable. Dogs became vicious, cats strayed further from home, and birds in the neighbourhood died in large numbers. Not everyone noticed this. Not everyone paid attention. Simon did.

  What’s the use of having this gift if you don’t know how to control it?

  Simon looked up at the skies. He wondered if God was up there, looking down back at him. ‘Justin is right, Lord,’ he whispered. ‘Why give me abilities that I can’t control?’

  A dog barked and jumped up at Simon. A thin fence was the only barrier between him and the agitated animal.

  Simon hunched down in front of the dog and established eye contact with it. It immediately stopped barking and backed down. Whimpering it ran back to the yard and disappeared into its kennel.

  Something was bothering the animals, and whatever it was, it was getting worse.

   

   

  *    -    -    -    *

   

   

  The demon needed human flesh to create a physical body for itself. Using a small piece carved from Robert Richardson’s arm, the demon moulded a skeletal body for itself. Arms formed, and then legs. Veins and sinews raked along the arms and legs like thousands of miniature vines. As the arms and legs strengthened, the demon pushed itself up from the ground. It used a table to pull itself from the ground, and with the weight, the table tilted, sending a flower-filled vase crashing to the floor. The sound of the shattering glass overwhelmed the demon and it jerked up and fell back into a bookshelf. As muscles formed over the face, chest, arms, and legs, a thick liquid-like substance ran over the limbs, covering the muscles and veins. The liquid settled and became what appeared to be flesh.

  Three blocks down a dog barked.

  The sound ripped into the demon’s mind. It hissed a coarse scream and flung some books off the shelf. The falling books exploded like mortar shells around the demon and it clutched its unformed ears in a vain attempt to filter out the noise. Two stories up an old lady burned cookies in her oven. The smell stabbed at every muscle and nerve ending. Next door, someone turned a key in a lock. An ambulance siren rang a few blocks down. Three houses down the road someone hammered a nail into a wall. The demon screamed, but again nothing more than a coarse hiss escaped its half formed mouth. The sound was lost in a dry gurgle because of a not-yet-fully-formed throat. Upstairs someone moved a chair. The demon slammed its first on the table. Nails, hair, and skin now slowly formed and the jaw snapped into place. Every inch it moved shot a whole new sensation of pain through its body.