by Edward Lorn
“Lyle!” Marsha screamed, not knowing which way to look or where to focus her attention.
Rock and debris rained from above, pelting her head. She tumbled forward, grabbing a section of the guard wire to stabilize herself.
“Where’s Lyle?” She spun in place, trying to find something, anything that would lead her to her son. There had to be a way to get to the other side, had to be a way to reach Lyle.
The loop. She could go back to the warp zone. If she went through, she’d find him. Yes. That was it. That was all she needed to do. She’d find her son, find a way out, find her car, find something.
Marsha took a step forward, then stopped. The rock path was crumbling, showering down into the chasm below.
She looked back at Trevor and Justine. “Help me! Help me find Lyle!”
Schwaaaaaaaaaang
The guard wire snapped free of its moorings and whipped through the air above her head. It coiled in front of her, seeming to watch her. She went right, and it snapped in that direction, cracking against the ground in front of her. Loose stone exploded. She let out a squeal and pitched forward.
The collapse was coming. It barreled toward her, seemingly intent on swallowing her whole. The granite path fell away, kicking up a cloud of gray dust. She had no way out. Wherever she turned, the guard wire impeded her progress. She hugged the wall at her back, mumbling her son’s name over and over again.
The guard wire rose before her like a snake from a charmer’s basket. It swayed from side to side, snapping at the air in front of her face. Over the sounds of her own screaming, she could hear it hissing. It sounded a bit like laughter.
Schwaaaaaaaaaang
The guard wire caught her across the cheek, tearing through one side and out the other. The force sent her flying away from the collapsing pathway.
The ground rolled under her. The pain in her face was all consuming. She tried to push herself up to her knees, but the wire caught her around the wrist and yanked her hand from under her. Her face landed in a puddle of her own blood.
At the rock face just ahead of her, Justine knelt over Trevor. Marsha reached out to them and tried to call out, but her mangled mouth would only produce flat vowel sounds.
Justine’s eyes met hers. She pointed and said something, but Marsha couldn’t hear her over the rumble of the falling rocks.
Schwaaaaaaaaaang
27
JUSTINE LOST TRACK OF MARSHA as Trevor dragged her along, heading for the pathway that she assumed would lead them to Scooter’s Dive. The earthquake stole all possibility of their escape.
Everything happened so fast that most of it occurred as a blur. She caught the movement of something falling in her peripheral vision. Trevor’s grip loosened, and he collapsed to the ground.
She dropped to his side, skinning her bare knees on the rough gravel. His head was bleeding at the hair line. Beside him, loose rocks skittered across the shaking ground.
“Trevor?”
He didn’t make a sound. She put her hand on his chest. He was breathing, though shallowly.
She looked around for help and spotted Marsha crawling toward them. The woman’s face was a horror show. Her mangled jaw hung from strands of lacerated cheeks. Justine held out her hand for her to grab, wanting to help.
Marsha sat back on her haunches, just inches from the chasm’s edge.
Schwaaaaaaaaaang
The guard wire cut through Marsha’s body. The woman was torn, corner to corner, like a piece of paper. Marsha blinked once before her torso, including her head and right arm, fell away into the mouth of the chasm. What was left of her body slumped forward onto the ground. Her legs kicked, and gore pooled around the remains. The fingers on her left hand curled into a ball, then finally, she was still.
Justine closed her eyes. “No! No! No!” She sobbed, the horror of the situation making her body numb.
She felt Trevor pull away from her. Her head shot up, and her eyes flew open. Inches away, the guard wire flopped like a live electrical wire, the end of it wrapped around Trevor’s wrist.
He was being pulled toward the chasm.
She grabbed for his ankle and tried to get her feet under her for support. The steel braid hissed, snapping as it wrenched his unconscious body ever closer to the abyss.
Her grip faltered, and she was left looking down at a handful of Trevor’s sneaker. She tossed it to the side, slid forward on her stomach, and grasped one pant leg. She was dragged with him as the guard wire pulled him across the rock.
“Trevor!” She fought for purchase, holding tightly to his jeans. Fabric balled up in her hand as she tugged. For a moment, she thought she was winning, gaining some headway.
Granite dust, kicked up by falling rocks and the shaking of the earth, clouded around her. She felt as if she were in a fog. The stuff made her choke, but even as she coughed, hacking up what felt like sand from her throat, her grip on Trevor’s pants never wavered.
Justine grunted as something let go and she landed hard on her ass. She looked down at the empty pair of jeans.
Justine scrambled forward as Trevor’s naked legs slid into the chasm. “You can’t have him!”
“He’s gone, Just.”
She rolled over, quivering. The ground had ceased its trembling. A pink bunny slipper set down inches from her face.
She looked up at a smiling Nana Penance.
“See, Just? You have no power here. Better to let dead dogs lie, baby girl.”
Justine hugged Trevor’s pants, willing them to be him. If only for another moment. If only to say goodbye. “I love him.”
“I know, Just. I know.” Nana Penance walked to the cliff’s edge and looked down. She whistled. “Makes you wonder what’s down there. Don’t it, Just?”
“Leave me alone.” Justine rolled onto her side, drew her knees to her chest, and clutched Trevor’s pants tighter.
“You always said his pants were too baggy.” Nana Penance clicked her tongue. “Boy never could keep them up. See what that got him?”
As Nana Penance spoke, Justine felt the hard edges of something poking her from within the jeans. She slid a shaking hand into the pocket.
“He wasn’t the right fit for you, Just. Like them jeans you got there. Not the right size. Oops. Now that wasn’t a play on the boy’s endowments, was it?” Nana Penance giggled.
Justine pulled out a small black box and studied it through her tear-filled vision.
Nana Penance said, “Now what’s this?”
Justine pulled the top off the small box and looked inside.
Nana Penance growled. “Well, damn it all to hell.”
In the center of the box was a diamond ring. Slowly, Justine sat up, letting Trevor’s jeans fall away as she pulled the ring from the case. Engraved on the inside of the band, was a simple phrase:
Now & Forever
You do pick some of the wildest places to take me. You do know I’m black, right? All this camping and adventuring ain’t really what we’re known for.
All the more reason to try it, baby.
Whatever, fool.
Cheer up. When we get back to the hotel in Bay’s End, I got another surprise in store for you. Just make it through the next five hours or so, and you’ll be one happy black woman. Deal?
Deal.
“Baby,” Justine said, her voice nothing more than a whisper.
Nana Penance hissed.
Justine slid the ring onto her finger. The gold felt cool against her skin.
With new resolve, she pushed herself up off the ground and dusted off her pants. She walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down into the chasm. Her breath calmed. The flood of tears ceased.
She knew what she had to do.
“Just? Think about this ‘fore you go and do something stupid.”
Justine looked back at the thing that wasn’t her Nana and met its questioning eyes. “I’m coming for you, asshole.” The pressure in her chest lifted.
A flicker of shade p
assed over Nana Penance’s face. “We’ll see about that.” Nana Penance flickered like the last reel of a moving picture before disappearing.
Justine looked down at the ring on her finger and smiled.
“I do.”
She stepped off the cliff.
FULLY INVOLVED
28
BACK…
“FROM THE LOWEST CLIFF of Waverly Chasm, you can look down and never see the bottom. Some say it’s over a mile deep, but that can’t be confirmed, as no one has ever been to the bottom.”
That morning’s group—Donald, Mark, Justine, Trevor, Marsha, and Lyle—stood unmoving, their faces shining in the morning sun.
“Any questions?” Jaleel asked.
Something was off about them. The group looked plastic, mannequin-like. Mark’s eyes gleamed as a shadow passed over his face. The shadow rolled over Marsha and Lyle, hovering on the boy a little longer than it had on the camera man. Jaleel looked at the sky, expecting to see a rogue cloud up there in the bold blue, but there was none. The sun held its spot off in the east.
“Hello?” Jaleel waved a hand, hoping to catch one of their gazes. Those plastic eyes stared to the front, not looking at him, but past him. Jaleel looked over his shoulder—nothing but the tree line and the trail that would lead them to Waverly Chasm.
He took a step toward the stoic band of tourists. Leaning in, almost close enough to touch noses with Mark, Jaleel thumped the camera man’s iris. It tinked, sounding like a nail striking glass. He snapped his fingers in front of Marsha’s face. She didn’t so much as blink.
“Guys?” He ran a hand over his short black hair. The flesh of his scalp was warm from the sun.
Jaleel pressed his fingers to Trevor’s forehead and gave a slight push. The man fell over, toppling like a domino, landing on Donald just behind him. Both bodies clattered across the ground.
“Well, shit,” Jaleel said.
Jaleel’s vision filled with blinding light. Pink and blue sparkles exploded in front of him. His stomach heaved as his mind spun.
He was sitting in Thom Grant’s office back at the parks and recreation building. His boss didn’t look happy.
“I’m not saying you’re a bad tour guide, Jaleel. You just screwed up. Thom clasped his hands on the desk in front of him, furrowing his brow. “You’re not going to make this a black thing; are you?”
“What?” Jaleel had no idea how he’d gotten there. The time and place seemed familiar, but what would come next eluded him. His memories had become reality, playing back as if in real time.
“You know, try and sue the company for… oh, never mind. This isn’t about that, even if you think it is. Righteous Cola has been informed that you haven’t been making people aware of their sponsorship. Now, I can’t see—”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jaleel stood and leaned over the desk. “I do my job!”
“That’s not what we’ve been hearing.” Thom’s face screwed into a grimace. “I’ve heard this from several of the guides. I’m sorry, Jaleel, but I’m going to have to let you go.”
“Fuck this.” Jaleel spat in the man’s face. “I’ll have your ass for dinner when—”
Sparkles, spinning…
Jaleel stood in front of his locker in the ranger station, staring into the empty space. His belongings sat in a box next to him on the bench. He shut the door of the locker, spinning the dial from habit.
“I’m sorry about this, Jaleel.” Clyde Lewis rubbed his hands together, looking uncomfortable. He avoided making eye contact.
“It’s not your fault, Clyde.” Jaleel picked up his belongings, balancing them under one arm. “It’s those fucking Righteous Cola guys.”
“I know.” Clyde finally looked up, and Jaleel saw the worry in the man’s eyes. “I’m the one who called them.”
“What?”
Clyde raised his hands. “Calm down. Let me—”
“Fuck calming down, man. They canned my ass because of you. Do you know how hard I worked for this position?”
“I know. I know, Jaleel, but my wife’s pregnant, and I needed more hours to help with the bills. Since you got that promotion to guide, they cut my hours in half. I can’t raise a fam—”
“Fuck your family!” Jaleel hissed. “What about me? What about my life? You ever think about that, you cocksucker?”
That’s right. Get him.
The voice was in Jaleel’s head.
“You know what? Fucking take it!” Jaleel shoved the box of belongings into Clyde’s chest. His co-worker stumbled backward, crashing into the lockers. “Take that shit with you, too.”
Yes… yes… yes! Give him what he deserves.
“I hope you, your wife, and your unborn bastard rot in hell!”
That’s it!
Flashing light, a pain behind his eyes.
Jaleel watched from the edge of the tree line as Clyde’s Jeep Cherokee pulled up to the trailhead. Clyde was on time, as usual. Jaleel looked down at his wristwatch—eight thirty.
Only an hour and a half before the first tour group of the day gets here.
Shut up, Jaleel told himself.
Did you just tell yourself to be quiet?
Yes. Now clam up.
It’s not like he can hear us, Jaleel.
No. But I can hear you just fine, and you’re gonna screw this up.
Freud would say you’re having id issues. I suggest a rather rigorous therapy session after this.
“Would you please shut up?” Jaleel growled.
Now that he might have heard.
“Somebody there?” Clyde called as he peered into the woods.
See? Told you so.
“It’s just me.” Jaleel waved as he stepped out to greet the man.
“What are you doing here?” Clyde suddenly looked very afraid.
Jaleel smiled. “Just wanted to swing by and say hello.”
“Why are you in your uniform? You don’t work here anymore, man.”
“Oh, this? Just thought I’d take care of a final bit of business.”
Clyde jerked his chin at Jaleel as he took a step back. “Yeah? And what’s that?”
“You.” Jaleel pulled the gun from the back of his belt.
Yes. Now you’re getting somewhere.
Brilliant pinks and blues as the world spun.
Jaleel was back at the trailhead with the mannequin remains of his tour group. Their eyes had shifted. They glared at him accusingly. Each one smiled, a startling contradiction to the anger in their frozen eyes.
“No. I didn’t,” Jaleel cried.
Yes, you did.
“You did this!” Jaleel said as Id formed between him and the group.
“But I am you. So, in turn, you did this. I only offered, let’s say… encouragement.”
“I didn’t want this.”
“Sure you did.” Id floated nearer and pointed to the gun in Jaleel’s hand. “You wouldn’t have brought that, if you hadn’t.”
Jaleel dropped the gun, startled.
Id laughed. “Now, all these people suffer because of you.”
“I trusted you. I did what you told me to. What more do you want from me?”
“You came up with the plan, Jaleel. Why is this so hard to understand? Everything I say, I think, I do is all you.” Id beamed.
“No.” Jaleel shook his head, wiping snot from his nose. “I am not… this. I am not this man. I didn’t kill Clyde, and I didn’t lead these people to their deaths!”
“Every one of them has you to blame. Clyde’s death? You. The boy and his mother? You. The couple? You. The fat man—”
“Wait.” Jaleel glared at Id. Something was coming to mind, a revelation. It was as if he were wiping steam from a mirror, unveiling the image just on the other side.
“What now?” Id grumbled, sounding impatient.
“Mark.” Jaleel fought to remember. He broke eye contact with Id, and memories—deep ones hidden in the bottom of his mind—rocketed to the surface.
“I didn’t see him die.”
“What does that have to do with—”
“You told me he fell. You told me he fell saving the boy. But… but I didn’t see it. I was… fuck, where’d it go? I was… out. I was unconscious!”
“I still fail to see what—”
“If you’re really me, and I’m you, and we’re all one inside the same mind and body, then how the fuck did you know what happened to the camera man?”
Jaleel looked back at Id and saw it beginning to change. Id’s wispy, pink and blue ethereal visage deepened like fallen night. It collapsed in on itself, forming a black hole.
“See?” Id’s voice changed, its soft tones becoming grave. “Even I can screw up from time to time.”
Everything around Jaleel—trees, bushes, the plastic tour group—disappeared into the all-encompassing blackness at Id’s core. He felt himself being sucked into the void.
Jaleel twisted in the darkness, screaming, “Whatever you are, show yourself!”
“I am the liar. Cold and fire. I am the end to which you bend. Omega. The void. All light destroyed. I am darkness. The fallen blessed.”
Everything ceased to spin. Jaleel hovered, surrounded by mist and fog, suspended by an invisible will. From the gloom, the shadow stepped forth. Jaleel looked upon his enemy in awe.
“I am everything. And now… you are nothing.”
Sharp fingers found Jaleel’s eyes. He screamed in agony as they were popped from his head.
“Windows to the soul, they say,” the shadow cooed. “So delicious.”
29
JUSTINE MCCARTHY WAS STARING THROUGH glass. The candy bars in front of her numbered in the hundreds. Snickers, Milky Way, 3 Musketeers, and Reese’s all looked back, making her stomach growl. She didn’t know the last time she’d eaten. An empty feeling consumed her. The hollowness in the pit of her belly felt like more than just hunger. She’d lost something, but couldn’t remember what.
The world began to filter in. Voices were coming and going. Justine stepped back and took in her surroundings.
