by K. Massari
He crouched behind the door and observed the staircase leading down. He saw lights in the lower levels, but he could not see the men talking.
Chapter 22
“We have her painting, the journal, we know where the little ones were hidden. Now we need … just one more thing.”
“I dug around all over the property, nothing.”
That voice belonged to Larry Goode. There was restless shuffling, perhaps they were pouring themselves drinks; the agitation was evident in their walking around, and in their voices.
“It’s her corpse we need.”
“Yes, I agree. We have to find her grave.”
“Before midnight.”
“Or the hyena monsters will kill the whole city!”
“Bullshit. They have stopped.”
“How did she die?” - This was a sober Harold’s voice.
“She ran down to the beach with the youngest girls and boys. They went after her.”
Wallace’ knees were beginning to shake and go soft. He worried about making an involuntary sound, and the men finding him.
“She’s under the veil!”
This was a voice Wallace did not recognize. Not a friendly voice.
“You mean out in the ocean somewhere?” Goode asked, his disappointment obvious.
“How’re we gonna dig around in the ocean?”
“We don’t need to know where she is buried …”
“Her grave would be the most important thing. It links her to this world.”
“Can’t the hyenas sniff it out?”
“We can never be sure if they are on her side or not.”
“Some of us are turning into hyenas now.”
“The other side is demanding the souls to pass over. They must make a choice, so many cannot remain in the world of the living indefinitely.”
“Crazy.”
“We’ll take what we have, and douse it with gasoline down at the beach at midnight.”
“Bring along a Bible,” Goode suggested. “Say a couple of words for the locals.”
“W-wh-wh -at about the breaker!”
At that, all the men downstairs, probably four or five, burst out in nervous laughter. They slapped each other on the back.
Harold said somberly: “Doesn’t he control the veil?”
“Yes, he does,” yelled Larry Goode.
“But the dumbass has no clue how to use it.”
Goode was quiet for a moment, choosing his words carefully.
“Harold, it would be best if …”
Wallace heard someone cough. It sounded like Harold to him.
“If Wallace did not make it to midnight. If you know what I mean.”
Harold nodded. “I know.”
“I’m not asking you to do it yourself. I just want you to say it’s okay.”
There was silence. Wallace was on the floor above them, and was secretly proud of his brother for hesitating. Not that he thought Harold would seriously stand up for him.
“Do it.”
Wallace heart sank. He bowed his head. It was then that he looked more closely at a shadow that had been by his side all along. He saw the spotted hind leg of a hyena. It scurried towards the stairs. Next to him all this time, and it had not tried to kill him?
Wallace said a prayer.
He was being protected. In all kinds of ways.
“Where are we gonna find Wallace?”
“At the pizza parlor?” suggested Larry then, a comment again met with boisterous laughter.
‘He’ll be heading down to the beach before long.”
“I agree.” Goode grunted.
“He doesn’t know about …
“The on and off switches for the veil technology.”
Wallace imagined Larry was laughing so hard, his face was flushed and he was doubling over. Wallace felt the urge to go roaring down the stairs, making a grand surprise appearance, just to see the looks on their faces. But he knew better. He was outnumbered.
He leaned back, closing his eyes. A memory came back to him - he had been playing on the beach with Harold, when they were children. His mother had been walking along the beach, carrying her shoes in one hand.
Wallace relived the scene. The boys were running all over the place and she had stopped scolding. They came to an abandoned camp site, with charred branches and empty bottles. His mother’s expression soured. There were clouds in the sky, and Wallace started to throw pebbles into the ocean.
“What’s the matter, mother?” he had asked.
She pointed in the direction of the fire.
“They say it’s where it happened. It’s where the girl died.”
She walked briskly to the path that lead to the parking lot. The boys followed.
Wallace nudged Harold in the back seat, when they were settled in the car.
“What girl?” he whispered.
“She went to heaven, she’s an angel.”
Wallace never forgot his mother’s eyes in the rearview. The alertness, the sadness, the urgency.
“There are no angels,” she had said.
Wallace rubbed his eyes and snapped out of the memory. He waited until the men were even more drunk. Then he made his way down the stairs slowly in the darkness.
Chapter 23
For an instant, as he rushed past, Wallace could see the men sitting in the kitchen, whiskey on the table. In the middle, there was Larry, with blood-shot eyes, large sweat stains under his armpits, his hair a mess. He was a sad sight to see, even in passing. Will he ever learn, thought Wallace, as he quietly shut the front door behind him. He no longer wished to confront them - that would be later. At midnight.
~
Esmeralda opened the apartment door for Wallace. There was a look of relief in her eyes. However, she did not let him in right away.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked, as her daughter babbled happily in the background.
“Yes.”
“He’s not here. But he should be, any minute now.”
“Can I wait?”
“My baby would love to see you, I’m sure.”
He followed her through the narrow hallway into the quaint living room. The baby chirped when she saw him. Wallace lifted her out of her playpen. She was cooing on his arm when they heard the door slam. It was Danny.
When he saw Wallace, he glared. Esmeralda took the baby and left the room.
“At least you weren’t with the other guys, plotting to kill me,” Wallace said.
When Danny did not respond, he added: “I used to think you liked me.”
“No, I never liked you,” Danny said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
Danny had moist eyes, a clenched jaw and he was staring down at the carpet. When he looked up, Wallace motioned a cigarette, and Danny nodded. They excused themselves (Esmeralda was starting dinner), and went outside; behind the apartment complex there was a parking lot, and Danny leaned against his car.
They smoked for a little while, and Wallace figured it was best to get right to the point.
“I have to know where she is buried. It’s very important.”
“You don’t know?”
“No,” Wallace lied.
“And you don’t know who the other breakers were?”
“The Man.”
“Right …”
“Maybe Harold. Maybe Ray.”
“Maybe.”
“So go down to the beach and think about it.”
“You’re not going to tell me?”
Danny let the smoke out slowly. He looked exhausted, not like the man who had led a small army to kill Wallace in the shopping mall parking lot.
“Stop doing what you are doing.”
“That isn’t possible, Danny.”
Danny suddenly appeared to have aged. Wallace notice his hair had gone white at his temples.
“She is buried under the fire.”
He added: “My grandfather never touched her. He had nothing to do wit
h it.”
“But he hid all those bodies in the walls of my family’s house.”
“And they come back to haunt us every day.”
After a pause, he added:
“The ones that have chosen to never let go of their evil options, vengeance, hatred, murder.”
Danny smiled a depressed smile. “What does that make them?”
“Desperate, I guess,” said Wallace, remembering the stories of the dead about the hyena creatures.
“Look, Wally,” Danny said, “we all make mistakes. Look at you. In this life, you are abusing your body, in the next, you might kill someone. It just has to happen. And there is nothing we can do … It was sad, the little ones were abused, but it goes on everywhere. Evil rules this world.”
Wallace said nothing.
“Harold is a weak drug addict. He kicked you out because he doesn’t want you to know.”
“He kicked me out,” Wallace said slowly. “Because he felt the power of the breaker.”
He added: “And the evil stops with me. It stops tonight.”
~
Wallace walked down to the beach in the moonlight, grateful for Danny’s confession as to where Valeria’s body lay buried. He had wanted his memory confirmed. Ray had helped him, and so had Danny. There was hope for their souls still. Wallace was now armed with the truth.
The beach was not deserted; dog owners and mothers with children walked along the paths and the parts of the beach that were not wet, where the sand was not deep, playing and enjoying the warmth of the early evening setting sun.
Further back, though, a scorched black circle revealed the fire spot where the beach party people usually gathered, and now it held a special meaning for Wallace. It was where the rest of his life was going to begin - if he indeed had a life ahead of him.
He walked to the fire site and stared at it. With a stick he poked around in it. He would need a shovel when it got dark, really dark, and he worried someone would try to stop him. Perhaps Valeria would appear and help, perhaps not. He hadn’t seen that much of her on this last, fateful day.
Wallace felt tired, he needed some coffee and someone to cheer him up. He had his back turned to the plants growing wild behind the beach, and never saw The Man lunging at him with a knife. Wallace was faster, though, and caught The Man’s wrist in mid-air. Screaming, The Man tried to twist free. Wallace let him loose and he fell into the sand.
“You can’t dig her up, you creep!”
“How do you know?”
The Man just stared. Had Danny told him? It didn’t matter.
“It ends tonight,” Wallace said dryly, turning towards the ocean.
“This veil thing is just a trick,” The Man remarked, but Wallace hardly heard him.
He scanned the ocean. It was a beautiful balmy evening. He still held the knife in his hand, the knife he was almost murdered with.
“You’re on the wrong side,” The Man said and laughed.
“Tell me where to find a shovel.”
“Go back to Ray’s …”
“It’s a crime scene, and his kids are all over it, I’m sure.”
“Then get one from Larry.”
“You do it.”
“Why me?
“You’re breaker Nr. One.”
“I failed,” The Man said and sighed. “I couldn’t help them.”
He shook his head and continued:
“All that shit in the cemetery. All those dead kids with their horror stories. I could not deal with it.”
“I know,” said Wallace. “I nearly got a heart attack the first time.”
“Yeah, right? I messed up the part with the veil, too. It’s some kind of machine.”
“You tried, didn’t you?”
The Man said nothing. Wallace didn’t believe him.
“Get me a shovel,” he said and gave him a few Dollar bills from his wallet.
“You’re buying this?” The Man asked.
“Naw, I’m just helping you along … you wouldn’t do it for free, would ya?”
“Probably not.”
They both smiled a weak smile. The Man left on shaky legs, and Wallace looked after him. He would disappear with the money, but not bring back a shovel. Wallace sighed.
Would The Man end up drinking all day, having lost his mind? Wallace had a hunch he would. The booze would help him cope. And eventually destroy him.
Wallace decided to think about what would happen if he failed and would be in the same spot The Man was after the next 24 hours. He considered the notion it could happen.
But all in all he felt fairly confident, for the most part that he would see it through somehow. He was very much in love. But he needed to see Valeria. To know she was real, or that there was something left of her. A piece of her he could call his own. She was somewhere waiting. This day decided all eternity for her.
Chapter 24
Wallace walked the distance past the Subway restaurant to the place where the infamous white mansion had once stood, and where he remembered construction tools off to a side. He grabbed a shovel, looked around for Larry. He did not see him, so he left.
On his way back to the beach, he thought of having a sandwich, but realized that time was precious. At midnight, his task had to be completed. Around all the sparse buildings nearby, there were flickers of movement, as hyena creatures dashed out quickly to assess the situation, and then hid again, lurking and thinking.
“Soon, my friends,” muttered Wallace.
“Soon you will find peace, soon justice will be restored. You will no longer be caught in this world, on a crusade to find others to kill and drag down. But … your decision to embrace evil will be final.”
He thought of Harold’s house, of the walls, and how he yearned to break them down. He supposed Larry and his crew of vengeance had done just that. Valeria’s remains would have to serve as a proxy for them all.
Then he thought wistfully of Harbor Road and going back to Ray Lighthill’s house. He would have to face that, in time, if he lived long enough. Oh, he would live, but would he live … on this side of the veil? Wallace had tears in his eyes as he walked the path over the wooden bridge that lead to the beach. Perhaps death was waiting for him, after all. There was no law it had to work out.
Even with all the misgivings he had had and the negative possibilities he had pondered, he was not prepared for what he saw next. Goode had assembled a small troop surrounding the fire site, and they stood around it, as if in prayer, baseball bats dangling from their right hands. Strangely, Wallace had not seen pickups in the parking lot. He shook his head. And where was Valeria?
Harold was there, too. In his hands he held the journal. Another man had the painting. And most heart wrenching of all, Danny was there, with a wheelbarrow full of bones. They had been chipped out of the walls, and most of them had pieces of cement attached to them. The thugs had gone to a lot of trouble. They hoped in destroying what linked Valeria to this world, they would destroy her soul, as well, and rid themselves of the ghost that constantly reminded them of the evil they themselves or their forebears had committed.
Wallace stared into Danny’s eyes. Danny stared back, seemingly unmoved. Larry stood with his head held high, and jumped into the center of the circle where fires were lit, and driftwood lay charred. He jumped around in a stupid, childish way, stomping on the sand, while his cohorts yelped and chuckled, as if it were some sort of grand achievement.
There were women, too, with cups of booze, smoking, it was going to be a show? For a moment, Wallace felt defeated, when, in the corner of his eye, he saw The Man coming out of the bushes further back, where Wallace had considered sleeping the first night of his homelessness. Of course, she was not even buried here, The Man just fooled everyone into thinking she was. Wallace had to distract the wicked gang and their leader long enough …
“Please don’t do this, Larry,” he said, holding his hands out, palms upward, feigning terror, scrunching his face
, “I can’t stand you doing that. Please. It’s her grave.”
Larry stopped and his evil friends all stared at Wallace. No one noticed The Man coming out of the abundant weedy shrubbery with something wrapped in a sheet in his arms. Wallace did not dare glance in that direction, but he was fairly certain The Man held a small female corpse close to his chest.
“I … can’t explain it. I met her on this beach. I was down. Harold … Harold … you kicked me out that day. I did a lot of things wrong. I want to apologize. But I am so into this woman. She is like a drug. Please! Let me have her remains.”
“What do you intend to do with them?” a woman asked.
“Yeah, Wally,” - this was Danny. “Just what do you intend to do?”
“I have instructions to bring her earthly remains onto the veil.”
“Where IS you veil?” Larry asked in a dramatic, overly patient way.
“There’s a lever, in the church, installed into the wall, next to a Madonna statue that looks a lot like Valeria …”
Most of Larry’s violent party crowd were smiling broad, drunken smiles, or groaning and shaking their heads. Wallace saw that The Man was breaking out in a run.
“Who told you that, you idiot?” Danny asked.
“Ray.”
“Ray?” yelled Larry. “No, he didn’t.”
The Man started to run, as Wallace moved towards the beach. One of the men turned, held out his baseball bat, and The Man crunched forward, losing the corpse, as he was out of wind. Wallace watched as the corpse flounced to the ground, a dark gray heap of bones and decayed matter, what was left of the woman he swore he loved from another time. A flicker of movement, a shadow, snatched the corpse up and carried it forward. Ray’s voice in Wallace’ mind said: “RUN!”
Wallace ran towards the ocean, as close to the water as he could get. He remembered where he had seen the veil, and with all his heart, he summoned it, and asked for help, asked for Him, or for some higher being to please be with him now and end the torment the souls of the abused had endured. Midnight was fast approaching.
Larry, enraged, saw that it was Ray’s ghost who held Valeria’s earthly remains, and stumbled forward to intercept. But Danny grabbed him by the shoulders from behind and said:
