9 Tales Told in the Dark 8

by 9 Tales Told in the Dark

  “I’m on it,” Adrian said, hands going up, walking away. Little Devin’s hand slid off his shoulder. The other Little Devil, some old dude Adrian didn’t know, stared at him with that look. Adrian hated that look more than anything. It spoke without words. It said, ‘You ain’t nothin’ to me.’ It was even worse than being called a punk ass. But what could he do? These were the Little Devils after all, and they were, they were…

  Guarding that place, just like the boy had said.

  He walked through the slums. It was hell in those alleys. The air was stagnant, smelled of ruin. His shoes crunched over the glittering shards of a broken wine bottle. Adrian peered around the corner of an old warehouse, which hadn’t docked a truck in years. The coast seemed clear. Adrian turned to the halfway open dock door and boosted himself up. He wedged one foot in the slim opening, and clung to the wobbly door with his left hand. The increased height gave him a better view of the surrounding slums. The weathered old buildings were tall. They blocked out much of the area. Adrian dropped to the ground.

  He needed to get higher.

  Adrian stepped over to a tight alleyway barely wide enough to accommodate two people walking side by side. It smelled like decay. Adrian wrinkled his nose. Garbage was strewn about, torn up plastic bags with innards leaking out like rotting organs. Adrian listened. There were no sounds at all. The tall walls of the warehouse blocked not only the wind, but noise as well. Adrian took a deep breath of foul smelling air. What would those Little Devils do if they caught him snoopin’ again? Adrian had a good guess. Pop. Pop. Out go the lights. If he was lucky, they’d just give him a good beating. “No guts, no glory,” Adrian whispered. Then he scuttled over to a rusty old ladder leading up to the roof of another abandoned building.

  “Aah, shit,” he mumbled, pulling himself up the rickety rungs. The ladder swayed under his weight, but it seemed solid enough to hold him. He hoped. It was too late to turn back anyway. He was halfway to the roof. Adrian pulled himself to the top and flung his body like a ragdoll on the hot, sunbaked shingles. Most of them were coming apart from each other. Adrian slowly came to his feet, prodding his toes against the shingles before taking another step. The wind was whipping at him. He went down on his hands and knees and slowly crawled over to the edge of the roof, praying that he wouldn’t fall through it.

  He came to the end. He stayed low so nobody would see him. He took some deep breaths, looked over to the other side of West 35th. He could see Little Devils chillin’ in the Laundromat parking lot. To the right, a couple more stood on the sidewalk in front of the empty lot where the long road began. And beside that was the high wall of the freeway. Adrian sighed. Getting in there would be harder than he’d hoped. The huge wall totally blocked out any entrance from one side, and the Little Devils guarded the other.

  It was strange. The highway was at least fifty yards away from the wall. Why had they built it so close to the abandoned lot?

  To keep people like me away. To keep us imprisoned in this world of rotting dead wood and stone.

  From this height he could see the long road stretching out, for miles it seemed, an oasis of green in the grey wasteland. The wall might keep him out of the long road from the south side, but he could still make it there from the north. As long as he dodged the Devils. He surveyed his surroundings. The side street beside the apartment complex and laundry-mat ran parallel to the long road. He could take that, he thought, hop a couple fences, and sneak behind the Laundromat and right inside the beginning of the path. The Little Devils couldn’t possibly guard the entire street.

  It was a good plan.

  Adrian started to back away from the edge of the building, but caught movement in the long grass of the old lot. It was the boy. He was barely visible in the swaying waves of green. Still, Adrian felt those moss green eyes looking into his own.

  The heat and the excitement made him dizzy. Adrian sat down on an old picnic table that was split down the center. It was right at the edge of the slums, close to the projects. He felt almost safe. Unlike the claustrophobic alleys in the slums, at least there was room to run. He thought of what he had seen. Were the Little Devils really guarding that vacant lot? Was that weird tree kid really what he seemed? Adrian wasn’t a superstitious dude. On the streets he’d learned to believe in what his eyes showed him and nothing more. Lately his eyes had been showing him a whole lotta’ crazy. In a way, everything matched up with what the boy had told him though. Those thugs didn’t want him to step foot on what the boy had called the long road. He sighed, stood, and made his way back to the projects.

  He went to his apartment building, mind wandering. As he walked down the parking lot, he noticed two Little Devils sitting on the hood of an old Buick. They watched him as he walked up to the back door. He recognized one of them. Little Tony, his old friend. There was nothing friendly about the way he stared.

  Once inside, Adrian was welcomed by that sickly plastic melting scent that made him breathe through his mouth. His stomach clenched. His heart felt like it dropped to his feet. Jerome’s old Van wasn’t in the parking lot. Adrian took a deep breath of the tainted air and stepped into the living room. His mother was half lying on, half falling off of the couch. Her left hand dangled lifelessly towards the carpet, still clasping the little glass pipe. She hadn’t even realize he’d come home.

  “Mama,” Adrian whispered. She didn’t respond. Adrian watched her for a moment. Her chest rose and fell, rose and fell. She was still alive. He felt relief, but even more dread. It was only a matter of time until she became a zombie. One hit. That’s all it took. He thought of the Little Devils hanging around his apartment. Their names did them justice. They were devils alright, spreading their curse around the block, turning folk into the walking dead. Adrian shivered.

  “I got somewhere I got to go Mama. Somewhere nice. I don’t know if I’ll ever come back. Shit, I don’t even know if I’ll make it there.”

  She stirred for a moment, and then her head bobbed down, rolling along her neck.

  “I love you Mama. I just gotta do this. This place, it ain’t for me. It ain’t for no one.”

  He watched her for a moment. Then he went to his room and started to prepare.

  It was much cooler in the dead of night. Adrian left his apartment at around one in the morning. The breeze was refreshing. Adrian took a deep gulp of it. Leaving Mama wasn’t easy. She might not make it without him. Still, he had to do what he had to do. He had to look out for himself. God knows, nobody else seemed to give a damn.

  Mama did once, back when we used to go for walks in the park. Back when we were almost a family, when the park wasn’t infested with zombies.

  His stomach rumbled. He’d had a bowl of Asian noodles before he’d left, and it had kept the hunger away for a minute. No biggie. He needed to be light on his feet. A full belly would just slow him down.

  He crept out into the parking lot, staying away from the streetlight. The old Buick was gone. Good, the Little Devils probably didn’t think he’d try and get past them in the dead of night. Adrian walked back to the remnants of the pool. The overgrown grass whipped at his ankles as he went. Adrian sniffed for the scent of his oasis. It was there, masked under the mildew and rot coming from the overflowing dumpsters.

  “Are you here?’ Adrian asked. He racked his brain for the names the boy had spoken. One of them came to him. “Ash? Yo man. You here?”

  Something brushed his shoulder. Adrian jumped away with a gasp. The boy smiled and said, “I’m always here.”

  Adrian shook his head, took a couple deep breaths. “Damn. You shouldn’t go creeping up on people like that. Especially in the hood.”

  Ash did not acknowledge his advice. He just looked at Adrian with those strangely green eyes that almost seemed to shine in the murky night. Then he made a cigarette burst into flame with a touch of his long, spindly fingers. In the light his face shifted on his skull, from the features Adrian recognized, to something else, or someone else. The faces flicker
ed like pages quickly thumbed through. The skin darkened and lightened. His eyes were round and then became almond shaped. Then the illusion stopped, and he looked normal again, except for the green of his skin. Adrian whistled between his teeth. The white boy wasn’t white. He was, well, everything

  “I can’t help you make it there Adrian. You have to do it yourself. It’s the only way.”

  Adrian nodded. He pulled a Kool and a lighter from his oversized shorts pocket. He put the Kool between his lips. It was already smoldering.

  “Long days, dark nights my friend.”

  “Long days, dark nights. Why do you say that?” Adrian asked him.

  Ash cocked his head. That pleasant scent was coming from him. Ash grinned. He looked strange in the dark, skin shimmering in the moonlight.

  “That is how I greet those worthy of the long road.”

  “So what do you say to those who ain’t worthy? Ya know, like folks you don’t like?”

  “My adversaries also hear long days dark nights. Then they hear nothing at all.”

  Adrian took a drag off the cigarette and said, “Why dontcha’ kill the Little Devils then? They the enemies right?”

  As Ash stepped towards him, his feet never came out of the ground. He just seemed to slide through the grass and dirt. Adrian took a step back. The boy spoke. “This whole land was once mine, from shore to mountains. That is no longer the case. I only have power where there is power to be had. My adversaries sense these places. They will not enter them. My hold on this realm is smaller than it has ever been, but some places can never be destroyed. Places like the long road you seek. You must make it there alone. It is the only way Adrian.” Ash was right on him, almost touching him with fingers that looked like spindly twigs. Then he vanished into the murk. Adrian lit the lighter and saw that all that was left of him were tufts of dandelion fuzz, like a cloud of pollen slowly falling to the grass. Adrian whistled between his teeth. He thought of what Ash had said about those unworthy. Then they hear nothing at all. Adrian wished he had some kind of power to kill his enemies. All he had was his butterfly knife. He took a couple deep breaths. He pulled his knife out of back pocket. It felt good in his hand.

  This was no game, he thought. This was not make-believe. The long road was out there, waiting to take him away from this hell.

  Adrian flicked the cigarette butt into the street and walked among the shadows of his apartment building. He took refuge behind a bush. It was poorly cared for, a frail skeleton of what it should be, but it hid him well enough. His dark clothes and skin helped him blend with the shadows.

  Adrian knew he couldn’t just come strolling down 35th. The Devils would make short work of him. The Little Devils’ apartment complex and the Laundromat were right before the long road, so he decided to just cut through the side streets, and enter the long road from behind the Little Devils’ hangout. It should work.

  “I’m comin’ Ash,” Adrian whispered, and then darted down the nearest driveway. He hopped the fence in a single leap, came down on his hands and knees. The backyard was dark and quiet. Adrian slowly stood up. He looked around. Nobody around, nobody screaming at him. Good. He walked across the grass, hoisted himself over the other side of the fence. He dropped into another backyard. Adrian listened. Nothing but crickets. He wiped the cold sweat running down his forehead. It seemed way too still. Where were the sirens? Where was the pounding music? Adrian shook his head. It was as if the hood was holding its breath.

  He jogged over and hopped the next fence. He was right beside a big ol’ ramshackle house. It looked empty, but you could never be sure. There were no fences around it, making his little shortcut all the more easy. He went towards the back of the house. When he came to the backyard, a shadow figure emerged from the porch. “You ain’t goin’ this way boy. You ain’t getting’ by me.”

  The figure lurched towards him like a monster from some old horror movie. Adrian stepped back, looked over his shoulder. He was right across from the Laundromat. His only escape was right into the playground of the Little Devils. Adrian brandished the butterfly knife before him, hoping to ward the man off. The shadowed man started to growl. Adrian stepped back and fumbled his weapon. It fell from his hand. The silhouette charged towards him. Adrian ran for the sidewalk. He heard the clap clap clap of the man taking pursuit. West 35th was dark. His heart pounded.

  I’m a damn target out here.

  The pursuer stopped at the end of his driveway. Adrian looked at him. The man had no features, nothing to identify him.

  He’s nobody, nothing. Just another faceless homeboy. A piece of this ghetto.

  Adrian took some deep breaths. There was life on the other side of the street. Lights burned as a car engine throttled to life. Adrian turned in a circle, surveying his surroundings. There was nowhere to sneak past them. He heard voices. More lights came on. The parking lot of the Laundromat glowed bright and dangerous. Adrian saw darkness beside the Little Devils’ favorite hangout. He could just run. He could make it.

  “Yo, what you doin’ boy?” A voice called out. Adrian gritted his teeth. He was fast, always was. That speed had saved him more times than he could count.

  Maybe it could save him again.

  Adrian smelled the pine and leaves, calling to him with scents instead of words.

  He ran.

  And the Devil followed.

  As soon as Adrian’s feet hit the blacktop, the first car engine roared. Tires screeched behind him. Dark figures came running from the Laundromat parking lot. He had the head start. Those thugs would never catch him. He pumped his legs faster than he ever had before. The moody night blurred by him. He heard the engine screaming, and the car crashing over the curb.

  “Get that fucker!” Someone called out. Adrian saw them from the corner of his eyes, shadows, faceless beings, pawns of the slums and the drug pushing monsters that destroyed everything they touched. As he ran, he realized that the boy Ash had told true. There was some force at work, some dark presence intent on keeping them all hostages. The Little Devils were doing its dirty work, even if they didn’t realize it.

  Only thirty feet away. Sparkling lights, like fairies from a children’s book, danced in the darkness. There were thousands of them. Fireflies, everywhere in the old lot. They’re welcoming me, he thought. He sprinted towards them, like a comet pulled to the light of a star. The smell was strong. His freedom, could almost taste the sap of the trees, the dew on the grass. Voices screamed behind him. There was some popping noise, far off, in other time, another place far away from the beauty of the fireflies. It was like seeing the Milky Way from afar, sparkling and hazy in the darkness of space.

  Ten feet now. He was smiling, screaming a cry of pure joy. The fireflies parted before him, creating a path to follow. He sensed it all falling behind, the drugs, his mama, the guns and whores. He was leaving that place forever.

  Then he saw Ash waiting in the path. A swarm of fireflies brought his features to light. He looked as tall as the largest of trees. Leaves fell from him. Vines rooted his scalp like braids of hair. His eyes were pools of green water. His body was bark, branches and flowers.

  Adrian was just a few steps away from the long road…

  Then something hit him from behind. Adrian was lifted into the air, spinning, shoes flying off his feet. He smashed into the windshield. His head punched through the glass, and then he was thrown forward as the car screeched to a halt. Adrian rolled on the concrete. He tasted blood. His body made strange crackling noises. He came to rest right at the border, where the cement ended and nature began. Adrian tried to stand, but his body would not respond to commands. “I coulda made it,” he whispered. He tasted blood in his mouth.

  He heard the Little Devils talking. He could not make out what they said. Their voices sounded strange, like a chorus of choking, gasping grunts. It was getting so dark. Adrian moved his head an inch or so, enough to see the blades of grass. So close…

  His left hand was nearly brushing them. He saw the
golden cloud of lightning bugs growing dimmer, fading. “Please,” he murmured, in a voice he hardly recognized. Adrian groaned as he shifted his weight. His entire body screamed with pain, but his hand inched forward. Adrian shifted his weight, just a bit. His hand fell forward, into the blades of grass. He felt them wrap around his fingers as everything went black.

  See. I knew I could do it. I knew I could get out.

  “Damn straight,” Little Tony said. “Fool shoulda known better.” Little Mack, the Devil who’d plowed over Adrian with the old Chevy, nodded his head. He’d been actin’ all hard now that he’d taken out Adrian, like it was some deal or somethin’. Little Tony was sick of his attitude. All he’d done was run over some kid in the street. Little Tony felt the stirring of guilt. He quickly turned his mind away. Better not to think about that shit. Adrian had been warned. Fool had disrespected the Devils. Fools got taken out.

  “You see how his teeth came flyin’ out like dat? Shit.” Little Mack looked out over the empty lot. It had been a few days. The cops had did their one and done and that was that. They had their block back.

  “Punk even looked like he was smilin’ in the end.” Little Mack stepped onto the grass, Little Tony followed. He’d been wondering what Adrian’s deal had been with this empty lot. Nothing there but some grass, shrubs, a tree…

  “Damn Tone, you remember that bein’ there? Ain’t the trees farther back?”

  Little Tony shrugged. He still wondered where all of them fireflies had come from. That was messed up. Maybe all the noise had gotten him riled. He spit on the grass, and then smelled something strong and pleasant, like herbs and soil. “Smells funny,” Little Tony said. Little Mack grinned, “Maybe it’s...” Little Mack went silent. He was staring at something.

  There was a rustling of leaves. Little Tony turned. A boy stood in the long grass, eyes green and shining. He heard the boy say, “Long days, dark nights.”

  Then he heard nothing at all.