Consequence

by C R Langille

  Doyle reached into his pocket until he felt a metal cylinder. He sensed the large beast coiled around him like a serpent, and it would be moments before it struck. Doyle pulled a pin from the cylinder and squeezed his eyes shut. He threw the cylinder high into the air.

  “Bon appétit!”

  The flash-bang exploded, and even through his closed eyelids, Doyle’s world went white. The screams of a thousand different beings went off in unison before they all burst. The ground shook beneath his feet, and dark shadowy dust rained down upon him.

  The worker no longer moaned, but Doyle didn’t want to leave him. He grabbed the man and made for the last door. He hoped for home sweet home.

  Doyle turned the knob and opened the door. A pale blue light appeared in front of him. Without hesitation, he jumped through to the other side with the worker in tow. The door shut behind him, and he couldn’t see anything at all. He had replaced one darkness for another.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Toby didn’t move. He tried, but his muscles wouldn’t budge. His hands trembled at his sides, and his breaths came in short hollow gasps.

  He refused to acknowledge it. There wasn’t any way he could have killed her. Donna’s burnt body lay before him on a heap of ash and smoldering vegetation. The stink of charred flesh stuck to the insides of his lungs, causing Toby to gag on his own saliva before he threw up.

  Something else must have killed her. Maybe Brock or Chuck, but not him. He wasn’t capable of such a thing. Toby continued to make excuses, but they were paper thin, and the harsh wind of reality blew them away with ease. The truth sunk into his marrow.

  He’d killed Donna.

  “No, no, no,” he repeated until his voice went raw.

  The woods chuckled as the wind blew past. The chuckle grew until it was a full-blown laugh, and he covered his ears. But it was no use. The harder he tried to block out the insane laughter, the louder it became until he chuckled along with it. He slapped himself across the face as hard as he could in hopes the pain would anchor him in the sea of giggling madness.

  It helped, but only slightly. Toby growled and tried to summon the rage once again. He wanted to burn the forest down to shut it up. Yet, he couldn’t muster the energy. The fiery bellows of his soul were nothing more than a cold pit of ice, devoid of anything but despair.

  You reap what you sow, Tobias.

  He sat on the ground and stared at the burned-out shell before him. Donna’s dark eye sockets stared back, accusing him of murder from beyond the grave.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Tears streamed down his face, and another wave of nausea roiled up from his core. Toby threw up again. He couldn’t stop and ended up dry heaving for what seemed an eternity. It wasn’t the smell of burnt Donna’s body but the retched feeling from his core.

  Every joint in his frame ached. It was as if sludge covered his insides. A vast emptiness, doubled with the knowledge of what he did replaced the euphoria that had graced him earlier.

  He killed her. Accident or not, his actions ended her life, and only he was to blame.

  But he did it to survive so that he could save his family. If he didn’t use her, then they would both be dead—or worse.

  Whatever you got to say to make yourself feel better, Love.

  Toby scrambled to his feet. He looked all around, but he couldn’t see who talked.

  “Who’s there?”

  The wind picked up, and Donna exploded in a cloud of ash. Her remains raced into the woods as if guided by some unseen hand.

  “Who’s there? Come out!” Toby said.

  The woods laughed at him again, seeped through the cracks of his mind, and slithered into his head. Toby fell to his knees and tried to block out the sound.

  The laugh held a feminine quality to it, almost sultry. Yet, given the fact he would drive a stick through his ear to make it stop, the sexiness of it all flew out the window.

  Well, that’s not very nice, and it wouldn’t help, the whole stick idea. I could burst your eardrums, and you’d still have the privilege of hearing me.

  Toby let out a growl and put his back to a tree. He shut his eyes and tried counting backwards from thirty.

  42, 69, 128, 720, 3.14… Seriously, you’re making a fool of yourself.

  Toby slapped his head and turned away. The woman laughed again. She laughed until his head hurt. A trickle of blood seeped from one of his ears and crawled down his neck.

  It’d be better if you didn’t fight it, Love. Better for the both of us.

  Toby let out a sigh. Perhaps if he confronted his madness, it would go away.

  “Who are you?” Toby asked.

  Oh bullocks, how rude of me. Please forgive my poor manners. You probably think I’m some dodgy gob shite. You may call me, Jezebel.

  “What do you want?” Toby asked.

  The voice hummed for a second. Despite the situation, a wave of pleasure danced along his spine, and his aches and pains abated for a moment. Then the absurdity of it all crashed into his body and brought the pain back with it. There was no way he stood in the woods and conversed with a figment of his imagination. Although, given the events of the past day, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility.

  It’s a loaded question, Love. But when it comes right down to it, I want you. Then, who knows? Some bangers and mash maybe.

  “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  The woman laughed again. The soft sound tickled his ears. He couldn’t help but smile as the tone caressed him. His inner fire sparked to life; he wasn’t empty anymore.

  Toby shrugged the feeling away and let guilt replace the warmth. Now wasn’t the time to think about this other woman, whoever she was. Now was the time get home to his family, get home to Linda.

  I can help you.

  He decided not to talk to it anymore. It would only make the situation worse.

  I’m not an ‘it’, rude by the way. I’m a lady.

  He would have to be careful of what he thought.

  Like it would matter, Love. I can dig through your bald noggin’ easier than peeling an orange. Let me tell you this, although you probably know better than anyone, you’ve got some skeletons hidden deep down in that hole you call a mind.

  Toby rechecked his pocket for the Jeep keys. The metal scraped against his fingertips. He focused on the rough edges. The keys were something real, something solid. He could work with real.

  Have it your way, Love. I’ll be here all day.

  A slight pressure in the base of his head dissipated. Toby hadn’t noticed before, but when it disappeared, it was as if he’d taken off a hat two sizes too small. Yet, a small itch in the dark recesses of his thoughts told him Jezebel waited.

  Toby gathered his things and took two steps before he stopped and turned back to the blackened patch of earth. His stomach lurched again as though his heart had dropped out his ass. He pictured Donna as she lay on the ground, and his palms started to sweat.

  “I’m sorry. Please understand I didn’t mean to.”

  Toby took off back toward the campsite. With the Jeep, he should be able to make it back home in a matter of hours. He needed to get back to the vehicle and avoid Brock.

  And how do you hope to avoid that which is all around you, Love?

  “For the love of God, will you leave me alone?”

  Jezebel laughed again, and like before, a spark of electricity crawled up his spine in the most enticing of ways. He stopped and took a deep breath.

  “Please, I want to get back to my family.”

  Then let me help you. I can get you out of here and on the road in no time.

  Toby ignored the voice. He pushed through a tangle of aspens and found himself back at the burned circle where he destroyed Chuck and where he burned Donna to ash. He went full circle.

  “Not ag
ain.”

  I told you so, Love. Let me help you.

  “Why?”

  Because I want you to succeed, Tobias. We both benefit from your survival.

  “What’s in it for you?”

  Lightning nipped his ear when she whispered. You already know the answer, don’t you?

  He thought about it for a moment and then berated himself for indulging the voice to begin with. Toby decided to try it on his own again and took off in a different direction, silent and steadfast. It only took an hour before he once again stood before the singed earth.

  Toby yelled out and kicked the earth. Toby took a deep breath. If he wanted to get out of there, he would have to concentrate.

  Stubborn little monkey, aren’t we? You ready for help now?

  “Not yet.”

  Brock stepped out from behind a tree and faced Toby.

  “Who you talking to buddy? She sounds delicious,” Brock said. His voice was worse than before, as if someone scraped his voice box with a cheese grater.

  You should run, Love.

  “Probably a good idea,” Brock said. “But I’m tired of skulking along this fucking mountain playing with you. How about we stop pussyfooting around and end this thing?”

  Toby gripped the gun. It wouldn’t do much, and he knew it. But he needed to hold onto something or his sanity would break even further.

  He’s trying to put you off guard, Love. Be ready.

  Brock laughed a wet and phlegm-choked laugh, which cracked through the forest.

  “Once I consume you, I’m going to tear your brat son apart. Wait until I get reacquainted with the piece of meat you call a wife. Oh, the fun we’ll have,” Brock said. He ran a long, bloated tongue across his lips.

  Toby’s anger flared again, hotter than the sun. He clenched his hands into fists and grit his teeth.

  “There it is. Great stuff really. But be careful, wouldn’t want to burn out,” Brock said.

  Unfortunately, I have to agree with him, Love. Don’t draw too much of yourself.

  He ignored both of them and sucked in more energy. The vegetation around him wilted. The trees cracked and twisted in on themselves. When he couldn’t find any more life, he turned his search inwards on himself.

  Don’t! You’ll drain both of us!

  Toby pulled more. Brock stopped his laughter and moved forward.

  Then, as if someone turned a faucet, the connection to the energy vanished. The power snapped like a rubber band, and Toby almost fell to the ground. All the power he’d gathered dissipated into the air.

  I… I couldn’t let you destroy us.

  Her words came out quiet and forced. Whatever she did must have taxed her.

  Brock was almost on him. Hate burned behind the man’s being. It rolled off his flesh and hit Toby like a rock.

  Run.

  This time Toby listened and took off through the forest.

  “Right,” she said as Toby came upon a large stone. He ran to the right of it and pushed with every ounce of energy. Trees snapped behind him. It sounded as if a steam roller crashed through the wilderness.

  “I’m getting tired of this shit. Die like a man for fuck’s sake!”

  Jezebel continued to direct him through the forest until Toby popped out at Donna’s campsite. Her friend still lay on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

  I’m more than a beautiful voice, Love.

  Jezebel’s voice still strained, but the strength started to return to it. Toby filed the thought away.

  Toby turned to the Jeep. Brock sat on the hood.

  “What would Linda think of your newfound friend? Think she’d be okay with you getting close to the thing in your head? Or would she be scared you’ve gone crazy?”

  “Fuck off.”

  Brock laughed again and hopped off the hood. He walked closer to Toby. Toby pulled the pistol out and started shooting. Brock hardly lost a step as he walked into the barrage. Three bullets struck his chest in rapid succession. Smoke puffed out from each wound, followed by the slow drain of black viscous liquid. Brock smiled but continued his march. Toby shifted aim and hit Brock’s pelvis. A satisfying crunch of bone sounded off, and Brock fell to the ground.

  More black smoke drifted from the wound into the air. Toby emptied the rest of the magazine into Brock’s skull. He pulled the trigger until he ran out of bullets. Bits of meat and bone littered the ground all around Brock’s prone form. Smoke billowed from his head like a burning building.

  Bone grated against bone as Brock stood. The dark cloud poured from the man’s eyes and mouth.

  “Fuck it, I’m done playing,” Brock said and came at Toby.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Time slowed down for Sebastian. Each beat of his heart crashed through his body like a tidal wave. He wanted to shut his eyes, block out the bad things, but they wouldn’t shut no matter how hard he tried. The scary lady flew across the room in a black blur, her claws stretched out to get him.

  It wasn’t real. Daddy said monsters weren’t real.

  It’s all in your head, buddy. Close your eyes and count back from ten.

  Something told him it wouldn’t work this time. If he shut his eyes, they would never open again.

  Sebastian didn’t know what was worse: the fact a monster was about to get him or the fact his Daddy was wrong. Monsters were real.

  He tried to scream, but nothing but a squeak came out. The scary lady laughed.

  A brilliant blue light came alive from the doorway and lit the room up so bright Sebastian couldn’t see without squinting. The glow slammed into the scary lady and threw her against the floor.

  The light faded, and the room once again went dark. Footsteps sounded off behind Sebastian, and as much as he wanted to look, he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the scary lady.

  A couple of months ago, he saw a movie on television. Sebastian wasn’t supposed to watch those kinds of movies, but he’d snuck downstairs and watched one once. This was like the movie. The bad guy wasn’t dead. If he looked away, the scary lady would come back to life and get him.

  As if on cue, the scary lady twitched and then jumped up, her arms stretched out wide to her sides like a bat. Yet, she didn’t pay the boy any attention.

  Pressure lifted from Sebastian’s body when the she looked past him. Sebastian let out a breath, crawled to Mommy, and hugged her. She shuddered under his hands, and the tears fell from her eyes, but she hugged him back. Sebastian finally looked to the stranger.

  The stranger turned out to be strangers. The words clown and bums entered Sebastian’s mind. What did Mommy call them? Vagrance or Fragrants? Daddy just called them bums, and it always made Sebastian giggle.

  A man who wore a long silver coat stood in the doorway. Sebastian recognized the coat was made of that sticky ducky tape Daddy used to fix everything. The stranger held another man up. The other man looked like he was melting. His face bubbled and dripped on to the floor. Blood oozed from the man’s mouth and ran down his neck.

  “Sorry,” the stranger in the ducky tape coat said and dropped his friend. The stranger flipped on the room’s light and bathed everything in a cool yellow glow.

  The scary lady rushed forward and swiped at the stranger with her talons. The stranger twirled, and his coat spun around him like Batman’s cape.

  The scary lady turned and came at the stranger again. He pulled a big gun from the coat almost faster than Sebastian could follow. Sebastian cupped his hands over his ears as the shot tore through the small room. Funny drawings on the barrel of the man’s gun, drawings familiar to Sebastian, lit up with a blue light when he fired. Even with his ears covered, the shot was loud and shook him to the core.

  The bullet slammed into the monster’s chest. Black goo popped out of the wound and flew into the air. The scary lady let out a horrible scream that ra
ttled the window and started Sebastian’s ears ringing. A little bit of light blinked from the creature’s chest wound. The scary lady’s body shook as electricity came out of her chest and covered her up like a blanket. Her scream changed, and it reminded Sebastian of when he hit his See and Say with a hammer. It still made noise, but it sounded slow and weird, almost like a robot. The lightning crawled over her body and into her mouth and eyes. The screams stopped, and then a moment later, the scary lady fell to the ground. She smelled really bad, and Sebastian thought he was going to be sick.

  “Nasty thing,” the stranger said and winked at Sebastian.

  It was then and there that Sebastian decided he liked him.

  Grandpa let out a groan and pushed himself up off the ground. Mommy held Sebastian close and continued to cry, but her breathing returned to normal.

  The stranger crouched next to the melting man. He touched the man’s throat and then stood up.

  “Too late. I was too late.”

  The stranger grabbed some fabric from the side of the sewing machine and placed it on top of the man’s face. He then loaded a new bullet into the gun, walked over to the scary lady, and kicked her. Sebastian watched it all with a tilted view from his mom’s chest. He tried to sit up, but she held him tight.

  “Thanks, mister,” Sebastian whispered.

  The man turned toward him.

  “Where am I?”

  “Grandpa’s house.”

  “Grandpa’s house? Any relation to Grandma’s house? Over the river and such?”

  Sebastian didn’t know what to say so he let the man talk. Besides, the way he talked and waved his hands about, as if a fly buzzed around his face, made Sebastian smile.

  “When am I?” the man asked.

  “Now,” Sebastian said.

  The man turned to Sebastian and smiled. The grin lit his face up, and Sebastian couldn’t help but laugh.

  “But of course it is. You’re very smart. I’m Special Agent Doyle L. Johnson, ID Hawkeye-Potatohead-Lima, 3-15-3, pleased to meet you, young man,” Doyle said. He knelt and thrust a hand out to Sebastian.

  Sebastian wriggled free from Mommy’s grasp and grabbed Doyle’s hand.