by Maxey, Phil
“I’m going to go up on the roof,” said Landon.
“The text said we should stay inside…” said Jess.
“I’m just going to take a quick look and come straight backdown.”
She nodded, but wasn’t happy with his decision.
“Can I come!” said Josh.
“No!” said both parents at the same time.
Landon moved onto the landing, then climbed the narrow staircase. The door at the top clattered from the wind. He pushed it open, struggling to stop it from flying from his grasp. Icy cold rain lashed across him, but in the shadows on the far wall, surrounded by plants housed in plastic containers, he spotted someone he recognized. “Hey, John,” he said to the old man in the earth-stained dungarees. The building’s janitor turned around with a frown, which was almost lost within a bristling mustache. Landon hadn’t seen him with any other expression since they moved in four years earlier, so had learned not to take it as an insult. Landon closed the door behind him and walked between the small bushes and shrubs of the roof garden to the old man.
“Something crashed,” said Harris, his voice being taken by the wind. “Fell out of the sky. Some miles beyond the stadium. Think it’s a plane.”
“Probe…” said Landon, his eyes now taking in the full scope of what was happening ten or so miles away.
From their vantage point, they could clearly see the shape of the yellowish cloud that now hung across the far hills, and tiny sparks of light that were buzzing around it.
“Government says we shouldn’t stay out here,” said Landon. “Whatever was on that thing, might be dangerous.”
The old man scoffed, which then turned into a cough. “I’ll take my chances.”
Landon turned and started to walk back to the stairwell, then checked his footing, almost treading on a small plant that was growing out of the concrete. Stepping over it, he took a glance over this shoulder at the man resisting the weather, then moved into the stairwell.
CHAPTER TWO
7: 04 p.m.
“Ha! I shot you!” said Josh, as he tapped his tablet’s screen. He was sat on the sofa, near his sister who frowned.
“You got lucky,” she said.
Jess was standing at the window observing the light in the distance, but her mind wasn’t on the strange spectacle but how she was going to get another job. Even without a good reference from Biochron, she was sure a pharmaceutical company in Boulder or Denver would give her an interview, if her former company didn’t spread their lies. And if that didn’t work out, maybe she could teach? Either way it would have to wait until the new year.
Christmas…
She sighed.
Perfect time to be unemployed…
Landon flicked through the channels on the TV, nonchalantly dropping a chocolate wrapper onto the coffee table. Eventually he stopped, sitting forward. It was a local news station covering the crash.
A presenter wearing a full face gas mask stood in front of flashing blue and red lights. A yellowy mist could be glimpsed between tops of trees behind him. “The latest news we have Chip—” The dark-haired man’s words were muffled and a little labored. “— is that the Nasa spacecraft has caused extensive fires to break out in a region of roughly two miles around the crash zone. As for the strange mist which appears to be expanding out from the initial impact area, all the authorities would tell us is that it’s related to the fuel that was onboard the probe, which they also say had something to do with its malfunctioning guidance system. There was some kind of leak. The emergency message that was sent to the citizens of Denver was just a precaution they—” He took in a lungful of air before continuing. “— Say. Local residents have told us that it was a miracle that no one was killed. If its trajectory had been even one more degree to the east, this could have been a tragedy for the city. We will keep you updated when we hear more, but for now, back to you Chip.” The screen then changed to the studio.
Landon turned the volume down as frustrated grunts came from Sam and more joy from her younger brother, then got up and walked to the window, leaning closer to his wife. “Maybe you can tell me now, why you came home early?”
She looked back to the happy faces of her two children, then to her husband. “Let’s talk in the bedroom.”
As they walked into the hallway, Sam tracked her parents’ expressions. A sound of anguish came from her tablet as her computer game character died.
“Got you… are you even playing?”
She looked at her brother. “Yes. Start it—”
A scream came from somewhere outside. Not rare for living in the heart of a city, but this particular sound was lower in tone, and was easy for Sam to attach an image of pain to. She looked at Josh whose expression had frozen, his mouth slightly open. She frowned. “Start the—” Another sound, this one similar to the first but becoming even lower, echoed out, as if the noise had gotten lost within someone’s throat.
Landon and Jess reappeared from their brief conversation. Sam noticed her mother’s eyes were red.
“Did you hear that?” said her father.
“Yeah. Came from outside somewhere.”
He moved to the window and looked out. Orange light seeped from behind drapes opposite, while a few apartments lacked any obstruction to their contents. He looked down at the street which appeared quiet, empty of people. He went to move away, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a woman staggering along the sidewalk. Moving in and out of the cones of light from the street lamps. “I think there’s a woman down there. Maybe she’s hurt. I need to go check.”
Jess wanted her husband to stay, but equally she knew trying to persuade him to not go, would be pointless and she loved him for that. Instead, she briefly squeezed his hand. “Be careful.”
He nodded then moved into the bedroom, then the closet, quickly typing the passcode into his weapon’s lockbox. After checking the magazine on his Glock, he put his holster across his chest, placing the gun inside, and put his dark blue Parka jacket over his shirt. He quickly made his way onto the landing outside the apartment. Music came from Hannah and Karl’s door. Choosing not to use the elevator he descended the stairs, coming out to the lobby where he expected to see the doorman, but Daryl was nowhere to be seen. Rain lashed the glass door as he typed in the entrance code, and pulled it open, emerging into the cold wind.
He looked to his left where he had seen the woman and plotted where she would have gone, then jogged forward to the intersection. The traffic lights blinked, but there were no cars to obey them. The restaurant opposite was closed and the streets were unusually quiet even in this weather, but there was no sign of whoever it was that he saw from above. He went to return when a noise came from the construction site across the road. He looked up to his apartment and briefly waved to Jess and the kids who were watching, then pointed across to the other sidewalk and building whose internal structure was open but hidden in shadow. Jess was waving for him to come back, but he had to check.
He ran across the desolate street, stopping at the metal chain fence. He was doubtful a drunken woman could have climbed over, but he had found people in all kinds of places he would never have thought possible during his five years patrolling the streets. He grabbed hold of the cold wet metal and climbed up and over. As he pulled his flashlight out and turned it on, a police siren wailed in the distance and white mist formed from his breath. He swept the light across cement mixers, diggers, metal refuge containers and finally, three chemical toilets. The last one of which the door was knocking slightly back and forth on its frame.
“Hello? Ma’am?”
He walked forward. “You can’t be using these toilets, they’re private... Ma’am?” Standing four-feet from the closed plastic door, he shone his light on it, then leaned forward, trying to get a better look at the oily brown substance which was smeared across its smooth surface. It appeared to be bubbling…
What the hell…
Thinking it a trick of the light, he pulled back.
“Ma’am, I’m going to open the door… so don’t freak out.” The last part he whispered to himself. He reached out with his gloved hand, being careful not to touch the strange liquid and—
A jingle played from his phone, making him jump. He ignored it and pulled the door open. The confined space was empty. He stepped back and closed the door, then pulled his phone out.
“Everything okay?” said Jess.
He looked at the rich shadows which laid within the bare concrete floors. “Yeah. Can’t find…” A patch of darkness, about twenty-feet away appeared to move. He missed it at first because it was lacking any definite human shape.
“Landon?”
“Yeah, sorry, I’m here. Everything’s fine. Hold on, I gotta check something out. I’ll be up soon.” She spoke again but he had already hung up.
He flicked the cone of light towards the mound, squinting to see more detail in the gloom. “Ma’am! I’m detective Keller. Are you hurt?” Ducking under some scaffolding, he stepped up onto the floor, letting the flashlight lead the way. The wind howled through the open room as dust particles danced in the swathe of light. He approached the mass that was ten or so feet away. “Ma’am?” As he walked towards it, he realized a smear, similar in texture and color to what covered the outside of the toilet was painted across the floor. A stench hit him, almost making him gag. He had discovered a number of bodies in his time, and this smell was not dissimilar, but the thing in front of him was definitely alive. Trying not to breathe he moved closer to the quivering mass, wanting to make sense of the membranes that were stretching and contracting. Was it an animal of—
A bare foot thrust out, as if it was escaping some devouring torment. He staggered back, his flashlight wavering and plunging the thing in front of him back into darkness. He hit up against a square pillar, one hand moving to his holster while the other swung the light back to the…
It was gone. He flicked the light left and right, his mind still not understanding what he had just witnessed or how it could have moved off without him hearing it. Was it another trick of the light? Were the shadows playing with his imagination? He stepped slowly forward, scouring the empty space, but the distance his beam could illuminate was limited and the dark sat waiting beyond. He pointed it down. A red-brown patch, roughly three-foot square, sat glistening.
Didn’t imagine—
His phone sprang to life, making him jump for the second time. He let out a breath and held it to his ear. “I’m okay. Don’t w—”
“You need to come back,” said Jess. “Something happened to Hannah.”
CHAPTER THREE
7: 40 p.m.
Jess looked at her neighbor lying on a flamboyant frill covered bed, with brown stains across her blonde hair.
“And this brown gunk started to pour out of the shower faucet, which stung my skin!” said Hannah. She held up her forearm which was covered in red blotches, then tugged on a few strands of her long hair. “It won’t come out!”
Karl stood by her side. He leaned down grabbing her arm. A little too rough for Jess’s liking. “The water was hot!” He let go. “That’s why it stung.”
“It was stone cold! I froze my ass off!”
He looked at Jess, frustrated. “Where’s that old guy? I went down to his place, knocked on his door, but there was no reply. Two thousand a month we pay for this apartment, and we haven’t even got clean—” Hannah coughed. “— Water.”
A sound came from behind and Landon appeared in the doorway to the Oxted’s bedroom. Jess could immediately tell something was wrong from how his forehead glistened with sweat. Landon ran ten miles a week, he didn’t get out of breath.
“Everyone okay?” he said, then focused on Hannah. “What happened?”
“There’s something wrong with the water,” said Jess. “I’ve already told Josh and Sam to not use it. Did you find the woman…”
“Woman?” said Karl.
“Er, I thought I saw someone outside. Thought they needed help.” He looked at Jess. “No… I couldn’t find her.” A flash of confusion came to his face. He looked back to the woman on the bed. “You said brown stuff came out of the faucet?”
“Yeah! Like mud… or… I don’t know—” She coughed again, this time with more force. “— It was hot, or maybe acid or something. I feel hot.” She pushed the sheets from her, blowing her cheeks out.
“You could always cut it off?” said Jess. The look of horror on the young woman’s face was enough for Jess to know the suggestion wouldn’t fly.
Karl walked around the bed, heading towards his hallway. “I’m going to try Harris again.” He moved out of view, and the sound of the apartment’s door opening mingled with more of Hannah’s chesty cough. Voices could be heard outside the room, and Landon and Jess looked into the hallway. A middle-aged man with dark hair containing flecks of gray and standing almost a foot smaller than Landon walked towards him, while Karl’s footsteps faded. Landon and Jess recognized him from downstairs, a neighbor they had talked to a handful of times since they first moved in.
“Jacob is it?” said Landon.
The man smiled and nodded. “Landon?”
“Yes, and this is my wife, Jess.”
“Nice to meet you both. Karl was saying his water’s out as well?”
“Not out. Full of—” Hannah coughed. “— Crap!”
Jacob peered around the doorframe. “Oh, hello… Hannah… what happened to you?”
Before she had a chance to launch into another dramatic recounting of her ordeal, Landon and Jess exchanged a brief look, which both of them knew the meaning of. It was time to leave the party early.
“We’re going to head back to our apartment,” said Landon. “It was nice meeting you too.”
Jess looked at Hannah. “If you start to feel worse, or you get a fever. Let me know okay?”
The young woman solemnly nodded.
*****
8: 27 p.m.
Jingles accompanied gun sounds from Josh’s room, while only silence came from his sister’s. Landon walked past both on his way to the living room. He walked inside, closing the door quietly, and looked over to Jess on her laptop. She was browsing employment websites, while on the muted television, emergency vehicles sat behind a reporter explaining something to his audience, with the help of computer graphic renditions of the NASA probe. Landon pulled open the refrigerator and wavered. A small mound of uneaten burgers sat under a glass bowl. Images of bubbling lumps with crawling entrails flashed before his mind.
It was a pile of rubbish. The wind was blowing it, or maybe rats… The leg… there was a leg… no that must have—
“Hey, you okay?” said Jess.
His wife’s question extinguished the memory. He turned to her, smiling. “I’m fine, just a little tired I guess. I was just checking what water we have stored, and…” He looked down at a single plastic gallon bottle of water. “We don’t have much. I’m going to take a trip to the store and get some bottles. How’s the job search going?”
She frowned. “It’s not.”
He walked to her then bent over, their lips briefly meeting. “Its early days, and no one’s going to be hiring over Christmas, anyway. We got enough in the bank to cover the first two months. You got time.”
“But what about covering the cost of the movers?”
“Ben and some of the other guys, will help out.” He picked up his jacket and keys. “Anything you want?”
“Hmm… more cake. Yes.”
“Even after Josh’s?”
She carried on scrolling through the offers. “You can never have too much cake.”
He smiled and walked back into the hallway. Hushed whispers suddenly stopped from Sam’s room while the angry tunes still played from Josh’s. He walked towards the apartment door, passing the long mirror on the wall and realized he still had his holster strap on, not usually something he would take with him on the way to buy water at the local store. He thought about returning the gun to its secure place
, but continued to the door, leaving the apartment.
The parking garage smelled damp, and was icy cold, like he had descended into a tomb… His mind wanted to return to what he had seen earlier, but he refused to allow it. He had learned over his eleven years on the force not to dwell. That led to bottles in paper bags, early retirement and no pension. And with Jess’s career taking a setback, that pension was not something he wanted to mess with.
Some things you just can’t explain.
His experience on the construction site would be put away in a part of his mind he jokingly called ‘Weird shit’. It was one of the first pieces of advice he got from his more senior partner, Benjamin Holt. A veteran of the Denver police department and who had just put in for retirement. Ben told him, ‘You will come across cases with things that just don’t make sense. Details that go beyond what you need to solve the case. Thing’s you’ll see, hear, smell. You put that in your ‘Weird shit’ box, and move on to the next one.’
He made his way from the elevator to his pickup. It was an older model, although new when he got it. A present from his parents for graduating the academy, and as such he made sure it was well maintained.
As he drove up the slope and out of the garage, he looked across the sidewalks and despite a reluctance to do so, settled upon the half completed building on the other side of the intersection. It was even darker than before. Were the streetlights near it dark? He was sure some had shone across the forecourt of the site, although now even that was bathed in shadow. Maybe the wind had blown out the bulbs. A voice at the back of his mind was pulling on him to return, to look again.
He sighed, made sure the lanes were clear and pulled out to the right. He leaned forward, briefly looking down at the old radio, then slammed on his breaks. The pickup skidded to a stop as he flicked his head to the left. The back of a man running was receding into the darkness. He had run across the street, just inches from being hit. The weird thing is, he didn’t even look at the vehicle that almost flattened him. Like he was running from something. Landon looked right, into an alley that sat behind another set of old apartment blocks, but nothing stirred amongst the trashcans, discarded beer bottles and wooden crates.