The Whispers: A Supernatural Apocalypse Novel

by Maxwell, Flint

  I reached into my pocket and pulled my cell out. When I tapped the glass, the backlight barely made a dent in the total darkness of the room. I had it turned all the way down to conserve battery. I squinted at the screen. Still no service. Still no wifi. So I opened the messages app and read what Julia had sent me. Fifteen minutes. That’s all. You give Clem her gift, tell her happy birthday, and then you leave. Got it?

  I closed the message and navigated to my photos. There were about a thousand pictures on my camera roll. I had run out of space months ago, but couldn’t bring myself to delete any of them—even the ones of basically nothing Clem had taken as a curious baby interested in pressing any buttons she could find. Because of this, the most recent photos were from last Halloween when Clem and I went out trick-or-treating.

  Now that’s a funny story. One day, after I had picked her up from Julia’s, Clem asked me if I could take her to the costume store. That had caught me by surprise; I figured Julia and Steve had already done it.

  “Of course. Do you know what you wanna dress up as?” I said.

  Clem stuck out her tongue and looked toward the open road. “Mmmmm, lemme think.”

  “How about a princess?” I suggested. “And I can be your royal jester.”

  “What’s a jester?”

  “A clown, pretty much.”

  “Oh, no, Daddy. You have to be something you aren’t already.”

  I arched an eyebrow and gave her a look from the corner of my eye, wondering if my daughter had just burned me or not. “What does that mean?”

  “Steve says you are a clown all the time, and I always say no, my daddy is a singer!”

  “Oh,” I replied, laughing, “that makes sense. Just ignore what Steve says about me, honey. So how about a princess then?”

  “No, I was a princess last year,” Clem said.

  “You were a space princess,” I corrected. She had dressed as Princess Leia from Star Wars. “This year you can be a Disney princess.” Which, technically, Princess Leia now was, but I didn’t tell her that.

  Clem stuck out her tongue and blew raspberries, a gesture she picked up from me, and one I knew Julia wasn’t happy about.

  “Okay, definitely don’t do that to your mother,” I said. “Or she’ll probably kill me.”

  “Sorry,” Clem said. Her eyes drifted toward her backpack. It was stuffed so full, it couldn’t be zipped all the way closed. A few items poked out of the opening: a stuffed monkey’s arm, a Bop It, and a couple slim picture books. Clem must’ve been eyeing the books, because she smiled and sat up straighter. “I know! I know! We can be the three little piggies and the big bad wolf!”

  “Well…that math doesn’t exactly add up, Clem,” I said. “There’s four of them and two of us.” She made a show of counting them out on her fingers. Clem was able to count to ten by the time she was two. She definitely had something up her sleeve with this idea.

  “I know that, Daddy!”

  “How do we make it work, then?” I asked, turning down the street my apartment was on.

  “Well…you can be the big bad wolf because of his scratchy beard and hair, and I’ll be the piggy that builds a brick house. The smart one.”

  “What about the piggies who build theirs out of straw and sticks?”

  Clem smiled wide. “We can put bacon costumes on two tiny pillows.”

  “Bacon?” I said, unsure of where she was going.

  “Yeah, ‘cause the big bad wolf already got to those little piggies,” Clem said.

  It made sense to me then. I just hadn’t expected my four year old to be so…so morbid. But after a few seconds of silence, I about busted a rib from laughing. Clem’s idea was genius, so that was what we went with: me dressed as the Big Bad Wolf, Clem in a bright pink pig onesie, holding two throw pillows in cheap bacon costumes meant for dogs as her two fallen swine siblings. Only a few people handing out candy got it, but Clem was happy to offer an explanation to anyone who didn’t. She explained it with as much passion the fiftieth time as she had the first.

  I scrolled through the photos for what felt like ever, and when my phone flashed a warning that only five percent of the battery remained, I stopped.

  My cheeks were damp. What if I never got to dress up with Clem again on Halloween? What if I didn’t make it out of here? What if I did, and she was already gone? I couldn’t imagine missing out on my daughter growing up. I couldn’t imagine going on in a world where her smile no longer kept away the shadows.

  “Are you all right?”

  The voice was startling. I jumped, and my phone fell from my hand, clattering off of the table. Tommy snorted across the room and shifted in his booth, but otherwise stayed sleeping.

  I turned and saw Stephanie standing over me.

  “Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  I chuckled nervously. “I’ve been scared for a while now,” I said, wondering why I would say such a thing to such a beautiful woman. I didn’t want her to think I was a complete coward, did I? No, but there was something about Stephanie that comforted me—even in a time like then. It was like I could tell her anything, and I could completely be myself. No mirages. No lies. Just plain ol’ Carter Westman.

  “Mind if I sit with you? Autumn’s still passed out.”

  “Not at all,” I said.

  I shifted upright, suddenly aware of how bad the inside of my mouth tasted. I made a point not to breathe in her direction in case my breath smelled as bad as I thought it did.

  But Stephanie slid right in next to me. I tensed. I had expected her to sit on the other side of the table. Not only was she beside me, but she got close enough to where our legs were touching. She was warm, as comforting as her personality, and she smelled faintly of flowery perfume.

  “She probably needed it,” I said.

  “Huh?”

  “Autumn. Tommy passed out too.”

  “Oh, I know. Besides the storm, he’s part of the reason I can’t sleep. I thought people only snored like that in cartoons.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, he is pretty cartoonish, though.”

  “Autumn likes him.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Did she say so?”

  “No, but I can tell. She likes guys that challenge her. I don’t know why. Relationships are challenging enough as it is.”

  “Ah, well, Tommy is definitely challenging, that’s for sure. Some might even say challenged.”

  Stephanie slapped me on the knee, smiling. “That’s not nice.” Her hand lingered there half a heartbeat longer than it should’ve, and a current of electricity rippled through my body, like I’d been struck by the strange lightning outside.

  “At least he’s a good drummer.” I smiled sheepishly, noticing her scowl. “Hey, hey, I’m just joking.”

  “I know.” She paused for a moment, the scowl leaving her face. Now she looked introspective, like she was deep in thought. “Do you think…?” She trailed off, shaking her head.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing. It’s stupid. Just bad thoughts.”

  “Hard not to have bad thoughts now,” I said. “Things are…weird, that’s for sure.”

  “What time is it?”

  I tapped my phone. The screen said it was almost four a.m. Geez, had I been sitting there looking at pictures of Clem for a whole hour? I showed Stephanie. She squinted.

  “Is that your daughter?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, that’s my little Clementine. Except…she’s not so little anymore.”

  “How old is she? Sorry, I forgot.”

  “She’s five.” That was damn near unbelievable.

  “Wow, that’s crazy. I have a niece and a nephew, who I see about once every week or so, and they’re wild. I can barely keep up with them for the few hours I babysit them. I couldn’t imagine actually having to raise them.”

  “It is a challenge, true, but even when things get wild, you don’t mind, because they’re your kid. And it’s not like I’m doing much of t
he raising these days. My ex keeps her away as much as possible. I think she’s trying to make her current guy take my spot.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, but a girl never forgets her daddy. I promise you.” She nudged me. “Besides, you were there for Clementine in the past, weren’t you?”

  “As much as my ex let me be. But anyway, wild is a good description of parenthood. Don’t even get me started on the things that Clem has done. One time she managed to toast my wallet.”

  “Toast your wallet?” Stephanie covered her mouth and laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, but—”

  “No, it’s okay.” I even cracked a smile, and she smiled back. I realized then how nice of a smile it truly was. Her front teeth were noticeably bigger than the others, like she had buck teeth as a child that braces had corrected, but because of this, her lips, full and perfectly pouty, never stayed together unless, I’m assuming, she consciously closed them. I thought she belonged on movie screens and magazine covers, not here in some little dive bar in the middle of nowhere.

  “I’m so tired,” she said when the moment passed.

  “Go to sleep.”

  “I can’t. I’m too afraid.”

  “I’m right here, and I’m not going to sleep any time soon. I’ll keep watch.”

  “You don’t mind if I stay close?”

  My heart cartwheeled around my chest. “No, not at all.”

  “Thank you, Carter. You’re a good guy.”

  “I don’t know about all of that—”

  She reached across my lap and grabbed my hand, and I was sure my heart was going to explode right there on the spot. I hadn’t dated many women after Julia. By many I mean none. And I hadn’t “courted,” as my grandma would have called it, anyone since I was a sophomore in high school. To call me rusty when it came to communicating with the opposite sex would be an understatement. But with Stephanie, it wasn’t hard. It came naturally. The same way it had with Julia all those years ago.

  You know how that worked out for you, buddy, a dark voice in my mind whispered.

  Yawning, Stephanie rested her head on my shoulder and closed her eyes. I hoped she couldn’t feel me trembling. If she did, she didn’t say anything about it; probably because she was so tired. A minute or two later, she began to snore softly, her curly blonde hair brushing against my jawline and her hand in mine.

  I stayed awake like I said I would. Stephanie eventually shifted away, and I slid out of the bench so she could lie down and stretch her legs. She thanked me in a thick, sleep-heavy voice I could hardly understand.

  I wound up back at the bar with a glass in front of me. I wasn’t even sure what I was drinking, I just knew I had to drink something because my head was filled with bad thoughts and images of the thing I saw out in the fog.

  A hand big enough to palm my head, fingers as long as my forearms, without nails but somehow still sharp, that grayish-white skin, the color of a corpse.

  My mind filled in the parts I hadn’t seen, and I felt like a kid again, cowering beneath his comforter and peering out into the dark at the monster-shaped shadow in the corner of my bedroom.

  I took another sip, the alcohol harsh and bitter on my tongue. The sip gave way to a gulp, and before I knew it my glass was empty. I swiped my mouth with the back of my hand and eyed the bottle to my left.

  “No,” I whispered. “Better not.”

  Elbows on the counter, I leaned forward and rested my head in my hands, feeling the warmth of the drink spread through my body. The buzz was nice, a welcome side effect, but my thoughts plunged deeper into darkness. Now I could hear Ruby in my mind describing what she had seen. How the monster, the creature, the thing—whatever the hell it was—had no face except a mouth. How that mouth had opened up and the darkness of the unknown had spilled out onto our earth.

  The warmth the drink had brought on vanished, and I went cold.

  Behind me, Tommy snored and Stephanie mumbled a few words I couldn’t understand, both of them shifting every few minutes, asleep but not relaxed. Neither was getting good rest, I knew, but it was better than no rest.

  And outside, the rain kept falling and the thunder rolled in the distance.

  Farther than before, but still close.

  A scream ripped me from unconsciousness, and I almost tumbled out of my chair.

  I didn’t remember falling asleep, but judging by the drool on my forearm, I’d been out like a light, and for a while too. I guessed almost two hours, considering how much better I felt.

  But how could I have been so stupid? So careless?

  Stop, Carter, I thought, making myself forget about it. There was no point in crying over spilled milk, as they say. Besides, it wasn’t all that bad, was it? I had needed the rest, and because I clonked out, I was somewhat rejuvenated.

  Well, the feeling of rejuvenation was nothing compared to the fear I felt from hearing what had awakened me. That scream was loud, so loud I thought whoever had done it was standing just a few inches from my ear.

  There it was again. Bloodcurdling. Deafening.

  I whirled around, knocking the bottle I’d been drinking from off the counter with my right elbow. It hit the floor with a loud clatter but didn’t shatter. Thank God for the small blessings, eh?

  I shot out of the chair and onto my feet. My knees felt weak, wobbly. Even knowing my phone would be dead soon, I turned on the flashlight and shined it in the direction of the screaming.

  Stephanie was standing by the window, holding her hands over her mouth, whimpering through her fingers. Next to her, standing at an angle between the window and her best friend, was Autumn.

  Tommy got out of his booth. He stopped, breathed heavily, and said, “What—what is it?”

  Stephanie couldn’t speak. She tried, but all that came from her mouth was an airy wheeze. Autumn answered instead.

  “Something just passed by the window.”

  “You sure?” I asked. We had blocked most of it with tables and booth benches. All that was visible was a few slivers of glass.

  Stephanie nodded and mumbled something that sounded like, “Mm-hm.” I could see the terror in her eyes as easily as you could see the sun on a cloudless summer’s day.

  “I saw something too,” Autumn said. “Just a hint of movement.”

  “Maybe it’s Deb,” Tommy said, looking toward the front door. The handle had three brooms through it. If anything on the outside tried pulling, they would have trouble getting it open. But then I thought of the huge hand I’d seen in the haziness earlier, and I suddenly wasn’t so sure about that. “Maybe Brock was full of shit. You know, maybe he’d lost his mind and thought he killed her.”

  Tommy sounded hopeful, but we all knew the truth.

  Stephanie stammered, her hand still covering her mouth.

  I stepped closer. “What’d you say?”

  “I said, I f-felt it too.”

  “What do you mean?” Tommy asked.

  “You don’t feel it? The…the coldness—”

  Just then the door rattled, jarring the broomsticks, as if something on the outside had grabbed the handle and pulled gently to test it. We all froze, and no one said a word.

  “Fuck,” Tommy whispered.

  “It’s here. It’s really here,” Autumn gasped. “What do we—?”

  This time the door didn’t rattle; it shuddered. The thing outside yanked not once but multiple times, and the wood of the broomsticks’ handles strained. I grabbed Autumn’s phone and shined her light at them, seeing them bend inward.

  I thought of the Big Bad Wolf saying, “Little pigs, Little pigs, let me in!”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “It’s okay, it’ll hold.”

  But I knew it was only a matter of time before the thing got in. If we were going to survive this, I needed the others to be calm and collected. I took a step back from the door just as one of the broomsticks snapped in half, each end falling to the floor. Someone screamed, but I wasn’t sure who. The hinges squ
ealed under the strain of the creature’s force. The lock popped. Then, as quickly as it had all happened, the rattling stopped.

  That was when I heard something. Not the paralyzing whispers I had heard in the park…something else.

  The best way I can describe it is as a mix of wheezing and screaming with an animal-like growling beneath both. The others heard it as well, judging by the way we all looked at each other, our teeth bared. It was a sound like a fork scraping across a glass plate, or a metal nail file raking between clenched teeth.

  It was, I think, the monster’s laughter.

  “It’s toying with us,” I said when things went silent again.

  “What do we do?” Autumn asked. Her voice sounded pleading, desperate. I turned toward her, and as I did, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. Tommy disappearing from the front room. At the time I thought nothing of it, or maybe I thought he was checking on Ruby, seeing if she could offer some sort of advice—I’m not sure. Everything was happening too fast.

  To Autumn and Stephanie, I said, “Help me block the door.”

  A sudden screech caused me to grit my teeth and cringe. Something sharp dragged across the window. Through the snippet of glass beyond the barricade, I saw the figure slither through the haze. Yes, slither. It walked upright, but the way it moved reminded me of something reptilian.

  Just what in the holy hell were we dealing with?

  I saw the thing’s pale-gray flesh, but I caught more detail than I had when I saw it in the park. I caught ridges and bumps. Harsh lines. Jagged shapes. The thing wasn’t soft or round of shoulder. It was built like a scarecrow.

  “Carter?”

  Autumn. She was two feet in front of me, a hand on my shoulder, shaking me. I hadn’t even realized she had moved, because I’d been staring out into the darkness, trying to figure out what it was I was seeing.

  Did I really want to know? Did I really want to look upon a creature whose face was nothing but mouth? Some beast our minds couldn’t understand?

  No…and yes. Yes, I really did. The desire to know outweighed my basic desire to survive…and that scared me more than anything.