Distinct

by Hamill, Ike

  They climbed through the thick brush and spilled out into the tall grass. The leash pulled from Robby’s hand as Gordie bounded up to the road where they had left the Hummer. The air burned in Robby’s lungs as he sprinted after the dog.

  Gordie had the right idea.

  They had to get back from the edge as soon as possible. It was way too unstable out here. There was no telling what the next change would bring.

  Robby tugged at the door and then remembered the lock. The fob didn’t work. When he had found the Hummer, the keys had been laying in the grass next to it. Someone had been jerked from this world and dropped the keys as they disappeared. They had been sitting out in the weather for far too long before Robby stumbled upon them, and now it didn’t work.

  Shaking his head to clear it, Robby figured out the obvious solution. The fob might be flaky, but the key would still work. He unlocked the driver’s door and Gordie jumped inside, still trailing the leash.

  Robby heard a whoosh, like a giant flushing toilet. He took a step towards the front of the Hummer, inching forward and craning his neck to look over the edge. The river was still rising. Now, it looked like it was flowing backwards, washing upstream from the bay. Debris swirled in the brown water. The banks had been stripped of greenery. Clumps of mud tore free and crumbled into the torrent.

  Below him, the ground shifted.

  The highway’s structure was being undercut by the water.

  The water had already taken the bridge. Now it was coming back for the road.

  Robby threw himself towards the door of the Hummer as the road shifted again. A faint memory returned. This was all too familiar.

  The thing fired up without a struggle and Robby slammed it in reverse. He flattened the gas pedal and the vehicle lurched backwards. As it did, Robby saw the cracks beginning to spider through the asphalt. He turned to focus on where they were going.

  As soon as they had a little distance, Robby slowed and cranked the wheel to turn around. They were going north in the southbound lanes, but that was fine. After about five tense miles, Robby finally took a deep breath.

  “I think we made it.”

  Gordie panted and smiled.

  “You’re like my dad. He could be angry, sad, scared, or whatever, and ten seconds later he was right back to fine. You realize what happened back there? The whole world shifted. We weren’t in the same version of Virginia anymore. Maybe the landscape was the same, but the water level sure as hell wasn’t.”

  Robby wiped sweat from his forehead and put the window down a few inches. Gordie leaned over him to sniff the air, so he put down Gordie’s window as well.

  “I guess we were lucky that the Hummer was still there. I wonder what else has changed.”

  They passed a backwards road sign meant for people traveling south. Robby glanced at it in the rearview mirror.

  Gordie slipped from the seat when Robby slammed on the brakes. He threw the Hummer in park.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled. Robby opened the door with a numb hand and dropped to the pavement. He stood looking at the blue highway sign.

  It read, “Motorway Services 1600m.”

  CHAPTER 25: UPSTATE NEW YORK

  DR. MATTHEW FORCED HIMSELF forward. The movement worked against his every instinct. This was something he should run from, not try to confront.

  She was an abomination. In places, her cooked flesh had split, showing him the seared interior of her cheek. Her arm was turned inside-out. Skin was covered by strands of loose muscle tissue, and that was wrapped in a network of pulsing blood vessels. His medical training doomed him to catalog the injuries and imagine all the work it would take to put her back in the right order.

  And none of it would matter.

  Through a hole above her ear, Dr. Matthew could see into Mary’s skull. Chunks of her brain were missing. What was left was a necrotic nightmare. There was no chance of survival, yet she still spoke.

  “She’s gone, understand?” Mary begged.

  Patrick held her by her horrific arms.

  “I can accept that. Why can’t you?” Mary asked.

  Dr. Matthew took another step and his perception changed completely. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Mary was absolutely fine. Patrick was the dead one. His sagging skin was gray. It hung from his skull. When he opened his mouth to speak, his tongue was black.

  “Say her name,” Patrick said.

  “I won’t,” Mary said. She didn’t seem at all disturbed to be in such close contact with a talking corpse.

  Dr. Matthew took one more unstable step. He reached out, despite his revulsion, and grabbed Patrick’s arm. He had to rescue Mary from his clutches.

  They were both normal.

  Absolutely nothing was wrong with either one. Mary and Patrick turned to him. If they were surprised to see him in this place, it didn’t show on their faces.

  “Please,” he said. “Something very odd is happening here. We need to leave.”

  They both turned towards the corner of the room. Dr. Matthew realized that there was a fourth person. When the man tilted up his head, Dr. Matthew saw what was hidden in the shadows of his hooded sweatshirt. It was more terrible than everything else Dr. Matthew had seen that day.

  ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

  Boney hands pushed back the hood and Dr. Matthew saw the man’s yellow, misshapen eyes. When he blinked, his lids closed slowly, like they were coated with glue. When the man smiled, his lips cracked and parted. Dr. Matthew saw a fissure that threatened to tear the man’s upper lip in half.

  “We were talking about old times,” the man said.

  “What are you?” Dr. Matthew asked.

  “I don’t remember. They call me The Origin, if that helps.”

  Dr. Matthew shook his head. His hand was still gripping Patrick’s arm. He had no intention of letting go. Without that stabilization, he figured he might just fall over.

  “We share an acquaintance,” The Origin said.

  “Don’t listen,” Mary whispered.

  Mary’s advice was good. Still, Dr. Matthew found himself responding. “Who?”

  “Julianne,” The Origin said.

  The name lit up every corner of Dr. Matthew’s brain. Minutes before, he had been unclear of the name of his own deceased wife. It wasn’t Julie or Julia, it was Julianne. That name was a tiny melody. He still remembered the smell of the fir trees the first time he had heard it. She was the missing part of him—the phantom limb that would never grow back. The idea of forgetting her name was absurd. Still, the name Julianne wasn’t quite right. It was almost…

  “She found the pink and gray blanket,” The Origin said. “It was right there in the cedar chest, where it was supposed to be.”

  “No,” Dr. Matthew whispered. “We looked a dozen…”

  “Wrapped in plastic. That’s why you kept overlooking it. The old coat was wrapped in plastic, but that had gone to…”

  “Goodwill,” Dr. Matthew finished. It made perfect sense. After the move, that blanket was the one thing that they could never resolve. Julianne had still been asking after it even as she was in the hospital, drawing her final breath.

  “But I left the cedar chest back at the…”

  “Lake house. That’s where she is,” The Origin said.

  The revelation knocked Dr. Matthew back a step. Julianne wasn’t dead. He must have been mistaken. If she was at the lake house, he could be there in a matter of hours. Others could care for the sick people in the group. He had to get back to his wife.

  As soon as he let go of Patrick’s arm, both Patrick and Mary reverted to their gruesome forms. They were dead and decayed. How they managed to stand was anyone’s guess and none of Dr. Matthew’s business. He had to get back to Julianne. She would be worried.

  Behind Dr. Matthew, footsteps slapped down the hall and Frank stumbled through the door. Frank shoved past Dr. Matthew and then pushed between Mary and Patrick. He threw himself at the figure in the corner.

  ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪


  “No!” Patrick screamed. He had been stunned and still when Frank flew by him, but as soon as he saw the knife, he tried to tackle Frank from behind.

  He was too late.

  Frank’s desperate swing had already buried the knife deep into The Origin’s chest. The sound was a low, hollow thump. Mary covered her face with her hands and turned away. Patrick pulled Frank off of the frail body as it convulsed and then slumped.

  “Help him!” Patrick shouted back to Dr. Matthew.

  The doctor was still lost in the idea that he could finally see his wife again. Patrick had to scream before Dr. Matthew finally started in the direction of The Origin. The closer he got, the more horrible the scene appeared.

  The knife hadn’t killed The Origin. The man had clearly been dead for a long time. Those eyes had been so slow because they were sunken and deflated. The skin was pulled back from the nose, revealing deep holes into an empty cavity. The Origin’s jaw hung down and to the side. His tongue was a piece of dried fruit, shriveled amongst sun-bleached teeth.

  No blood flowed from the wound.

  Every drop of water had evaporated from this mummy long ago.

  Still, Patrick begged him.

  Dr. Matthew pulled the knife from the husk and tossed it to the floor.

  Patrick let go of Frank. He seemed to realize that there was nothing more to save.

  Mary still had her face hidden in her hands. She backed up until she hit the wall and then she slumped down to the floor.

  “Let’s get out of here before they come for us,” Frank said.

  “You were both dead,” Dr. Matthew said. “Both of you. You were dead and Julianne was alive.”

  “Who?” Frank asked.

  “Maybe she still is,” Dr. Matthew said. He mumbled to himself as he moved towards the door.

  Patrick was right on his heels.

  “Come on, Mary,” Frank said. He walked to her and leaned over to help her up. She batted his hand away and covered her face again.

  “What if it was true, Frank? I tell myself that I’m over it, but that’s a lie. If I could change everything and have her back again, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

  “Who, Mary? Who are you talking about?”

  He took her arm and she shook loose once more.

  “Wendy,” Mary whispered. “Oh. I see.”

  “We have to go,” Frank said. Mary wasn’t making sense.

  “What have I done?” Mary asked.

  A voice from the corner startled Frank.

  “Convince him and you’ll know how to find your daughter,” The Origin said.

  Frank turned.

  The man wasn’t a corpse anymore. In fact, he looked reasonably healthy, especially considering that he had recently had a knife in his chest.

  “I can’t convince him,” Mary said. “I wouldn’t know how to start.”

  Frank rushed for the knife. He snatched it from the floor and moved towards the corner again. Before he could even swing, Mary was on his back. Frank wasn’t strong enough to carry her weight. He swung from side to side, trying to dislodge her, and then fell to his knees. On impact, sharp pain drove up from his kneecap. He heard a pop and a crunch before he screamed.

  “Convince him,” The Origin said.

  “Frank,” Mary whispered into his ear from behind. “Let him help you.”

  She cried out when Frank tipped to his side and fell on top of her. The knife slipped from his grip.

  “Luke needs your help,” The Origin said.

  “Yes,” Mary agreed. “You were important when you were with Luke. People respected you.”

  “Get off. They hated me,” Frank said. He finally managed to get her arm from around his neck. Her grip was insane.

  “They won’t judge you anymore,” The Origin said.

  Frank stopped struggling and turned his eyes to the man. His hood was up. Frank could just see his slow, yellow eyes in the shadows.

  CHAPTER 26: LONG ISLAND

  “SIT DOWN,” THE MAN said again.

  “You’ve seen better days,” Romie said, drawing his attention. “I think maybe it’s time for you to stop ordering people around.”

  “I’ve seen many things,” the man said.

  He didn’t see what came next. Tim had been angling himself to the side, as the man addressed Romie.

  Without consulting the others, Tim swung his golf club. The angled metal face hit the man in the back of the head, driving him forward. The sound was like a hammer, hitting a solid block of wood. The man’s head snapped forward and the hood fell off.

  Only wisps of cottony hair still clung to his scalp. When the man’s face bounced off of the solid table, it crunched with broken teeth and crushed cartilage. Ty dropped his club and rushed forward. Tim and Brad raised their clubs to fend off the inevitable attack from the guards.

  The guards didn’t advanced. Instead, they turned and exited through the doors to join the third man outside.

  The radio on Romie’s belt squawked and then Lisa’s voice came through the speaker.

  “They’re outside. All three are outside. The only one still inside is the sick guy,” Lisa said.

  “Got it,” Romie called back. “We’re here and we’re okay for the moment. Let us know if anything changes.”

  While she spoke, Ty examined the man’s neck and head. He pushed chairs aside and lowered him to the floor.

  “Who is this creep?” Romie asked. She stood over Ty and the man, leaning on her golf club.

  Tim still kept a wary eye on the guards outside, but he called back over his shoulder.

  “We treated him for radiation poisoning a while ago. He’s supposed to be dead.”

  The man on the floor whispered. Ty leaned close to hear.

  “They call me The Origin,” he said.

  Ty listened for anything more.

  A few seconds later, Ty rocked back to sit on his heels.

  “He’s gone.”

  ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

  “That’s it?” Romie asked. She laughed and sat down in a chair. “The big scary man, come to indoctrinate us all into his horrible cult, gets hit in the head and dies?”

  She tilted her head back and laughed louder.

  Brad tightened his grip and inched towards the doors. The men outside held their ground. They didn’t talk to each other and they weren’t even looking through the glass. They simply stood, staring out towards the ocean. Brad locked the door. It was glass, so it could be smashed, but at least the men would be slowed down a little.

  “How is he still alive?” Tim asked. “You said he would be dead in a matter of weeks and then we heard that he was dead and buried.”

  “I guess we heard wrong,” Ty said.

  “As Romie said, he looks like he has seen better days,” Brad said after a glance.

  The man had old blood smeared on his face. His skin was sagging and pale.

  “It’s hard to believe that anyone followed him,” Romie said. “If I were joining a cult, I would look for a leader who was a little more robust, you know?”

  “Chill out,” Brad said. “He’s gone, okay?”

  “It doesn’t change much, as far as I can see,” Romie said. “We still need to capture those guys to find out what they know and why they’re coming after us. Just because Tim snuffed their leader, doesn’t mean we’re out of danger.”

  The group thought about that for a minute. Ty pressed his ear to the dead man’s chest again.

  “She has a good point,” Brad said. He glanced at the men outside. “We should strike while they’re still in shock.”

  “Just a second,” Ty said.

  Tim knelt down next to Ty.

  Everyone waited to find out why Ty was unzipping the sweatshirt and then unbuttoning the dead man’s shirt. Ty’s hands stopped. He pulled them back slowly, like he had just discovered a bomb.

  “What is it?” Brad asked.

  “This wound,” Ty said.

  They all craned over the dead man to
see what Ty was referring to. It was difficult to see. The light in the room was coming from the windows that looked out over the water, and the shadows were deep. Even Romie lifted from her seat to have a look.

  “This wound looks like it was made post mortem,” Ty said. He pressed at the sides of a slit in the man’s chest. When Ty gently pushed, the skin parted to reveal a deep gash that drove deep between the ribs. “I think it goes all the way into his heart.”

  “When?” Tim asked. “How could it be post mortem?”

  When Romie’s radio came to life again, they all jumped.

  “What’s going on in there, guys?” Lisa asked.

  “Give us a minute,” Romie said.

  “There’s no blood from the wound, and there should be plenty,” Ty said.

  “Come on,” Brad said. “We’ll get those guys and then get some answers.”

  ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

  Brad unlocked the door and pulled it open. Ty and Tim flanked while Romie approached them head on. The three men regarded the golf clubs and the people wielding them. They didn’t ask any questions or make a move.

  “Get inside,” Brad said. “We have questions for you.”

  Without argument, the three hostages filed inside.

  They put the men at the round table so they all had a clear view of the dead man on the floor.

  Brad sat down while the others stood with their clubs aloft, ready to swing.

  “Why did you come here?” Brad asked.

  The man on the far left spoke up. “We wanted you to meet The Origin.”

  “He’s not going to be meeting anyone again,” Romie said.

  The man didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes fixed on Brad.

  “Why have you been chasing us?” Brad asked.

  “Same reason,” the man said.

  “Why is it so important?” Tim asked from the behind him.

  Still, the man responded to Brad. “He wants to tell you about Karen. You’re Brad, right?”