Bleed Away the Sky

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Bleed Away the Sky Page 9

by Brian Fatah Steele


  He didn’t think about his wife’s cooling body in the kitchen, didn’t regret his actions. None of it mattered. The thought had simply crossed his mind and he acted upon it. Violence for the sake of violence. His wife had been nothing but animated meat, worthless in the greater cosmic scheme. Just like him. Just like all of humanity.

  Washed and dried, he dressed only out of routine and because he would arouse suspicion if he engaged in his activities naked. He packed no additional clothing, took nothing except what was needed to achieve his goals. Wallet, keys, glasses, the items he wore. Faure went back downstairs, confident in his purpose.

  He rang Binici again, this time getting an answer.

  “Timothy, is everything alright?”

  “No, the Crimsonata has been eluding the Wall. It’s believed she knows she’s being pursued, and we’ll have better luck if you bring her in.”

  “What? That was never discussed.”

  “A change of tactics. They want you to handle it and then bring her to Eldridge, Ohio for containment. They have the most appropriate safe house there to accommodate her.”

  “Eldridge, Ohio?”

  “I have no idea why, but yes.”

  “Timothy, I won’t be able to get to any of this until tomorrow.”

  Faure sighed. “That’s fine, but no later. We’re on a clock here.”

  “If your people are sure…” Binici began.

  “They are, Emily,” Faure said, and then hung up before she could say anymore.

  He slipped the cellphone into his pocket and walked back to the microwave. He took a bite out of the unknown organ, but it had gone cold. Unimpressed, he tossed it across the room. Surveying the atrocities, he considered setting fire to the house before deciding against it. It would bring people faster than just leaving everything as is. His wife wouldn’t be missed for a few days, and chances were that by then, it would be too late for any human authorities to have a say in things.

  Leaving the scene behind him, Faure walked out of his house and locked the door behind him. He climbed into his car and changed the music to Mozart. Pulling away, knowing he’d never see his home again, didn’t shake him in the least. He was going to a new home, a new family. He was going to become a part of something bigger and grander, something that would usher in a new age upon the earth.

  Idly, like one would consider the weather, Faure thought about all of the billions who prostrated themselves in the name of false faiths across the globe. It would be beautiful when they discovered the magnificent truth of the Ovessa and freed themselves from humanity’s shackles. He knew he wasn’t quite there yet, so close, but he wasn’t invocated yet. A full transformation had yet to occur.

  Faure knew he had been chosen because he was special, because he was in a unique position. Not only was he open to the call of the Ovessa, he was positioned to maneuver the Wall away from the Crimsonata so that the Ovessa’s agents could strike. He was more than happy to be a pawn in his Most Holy’s great will. For what the Ovessa had shown him, the majestic vistas of cosmic weight united under its shining rule, he would do anything to prove his devotion. Faure knew the Ovessa’s plans culminated with the utter annihilation of the planet as earthlings knew it, terraformed into something far more primeval. It demanded that the spiritual eugenics of its populace merge into a singular, symbiotic lifeform, one that was both planet below and god above. All forever in the glistening glow of the Ovessa.

  Yearning to touch that light again, Faure drove out of the city and headed east. He didn’t know what he expected to find in Eldridge, but he would seek it out. He would do whatever was asked of him. Faure had studied enough religions to know what was expected of a devoted disciple, a loyal acolyte. He would prove his worth, no matter the cost.

  Hitting the highway, he rolled down the window and turned up the music. Humming along with the tune, mile after mile passed, and he found himself smiling in anticipation.

  CHAPTER 23

  The motel was a single story, one-star shithole right off the highway. Not that they had been staying in any terribly classy places on the trip, but this was the lowest on the totem pole so far. The carpet was so thread bare you could almost see the floor beneath and the peeling wallpaper was a salmon swirl that wasn’t even in style back when it had been applied in the seventies. The particleboard end tables were chipped, and the brown woolen blankets frayed, the chances of bed bugs in the lumpy mattresses quite high. The curtains were plastic for some reason that Elliot couldn’t figure out. The bathroom looked like a murder scene, hastily wiped down, and forgotten about. There was a rust tinge to everything in there.

  At least there was air conditioning, a rickety contraption that made as much noise as it produced cold air. Elliot stood in front of it and considered sleeping on the floor that night. For the price he paid for the room, he was pretty sure it was mostly frequented by those not using the beds for sleep. But it was cheap, and he needed cheap right now. Who knows how long they’d be on the run.

  He had suggested sleeping in the car, conserving money, but Audrey had shot him down. They’d worry about that when the money got thin, but not yet. He was more worried about when it got cold, if they could hold out for that long. They had already stopped off and got a case of cheap bottled water, and other cheap, nonperishable foods. Granola bars, trail mix, peperoni sticks, bags of baby carrots, snack crackers, jars of applesauce, etc. They would keep it all stored in the car just in case.

  It was the unknown variables that kept Elliot twitching. Would this last a few days, a month, forever? He would stay with Audrey as long as it took, he owed her that, but he wished he knew what he was in for. For her part, after her initial freak out, she seemed to have found an equilibrium. A Zen with the whole thing. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t really want to question it either. Elliot didn’t like it when she cried.

  Audrey was in the bathroom, cleaning up from the road. She had only brought her purse in, saying she’d change in the morning. He’d shrugged and gone along with her. Whatever she wanted to do, she was in charge.

  To hell with it, thought Elliot, flopping down on top of the nearest bed. Back at school, he had been liked, popular among his circle. People gravitated to him, opened up to him. He had his crew of buddies that he had parties with, some he knew he’d stay friends with for years. While he had dated a decent amount, nobody had ever stood out to him. Most of the girls he met in college had either been husband hungry or party crazy, and he wasn’t interested in either. He had never known any girls like his sister in school, and twice he had thought about asking her if she had any friends but decided that would be weird.

  He had enjoyed college, and had enjoyed his major enough, but was more excited about the next chapter in his life than he was about the job. Elliot figured that was why he wasn’t too freaked out about what was happening now. If he didn’t get back in time, he’d just find another job. Whatever.

  His mom barely understood what he did and had always given him a long leash as it was. She thought his devotion to a long-lost sister was odd, but she had never said a bad word. She had always known Audrey was out there, but never thought it was her place to say anything about it. A great mom, it tore Elliot up thinking how different Audrey might have been if she had been raised by her and their dad instead of spending all those years in foster care. Audrey said it was okay, but he tended to think otherwise.

  He liked to think that his dad would be proud that Elliot was getting to know his sister, that they were together. And he didn’t give a shit what Audrey’s mom would’ve thought.

  Audrey came out of the bathroom, her face washed, carrying her purse. She didn’t wear a lot of makeup, just some eyeliner, shadow, sometimes blush, and bit of lip-gloss. Half the time, not even the last two. She popped off her sneakers and slid her bra out from underneath her shirt. Elliot smirked at a woman’s ability to unfasten a bra clasp so effortlessly. Setting her purse at the foot of her bed, she slid the bra inside it, and set the shoes on t
op before dropping on top of the covers.

  “I can feel the chlamydia fighting the gonorrhea to see who will crawl all over me,” she said.

  Elliot laughed. “I was thinking about sleeping on top of the covers, but that’s probably just as bad.”

  “Probably.”

  She is so small, thought Elliot. The thought just struck him. She was as petite as that Lily girl he had dated. He had never really realized it. She had always seemed fragile, but never… small. She had a presence. In her own way, she was strong. She was her own person.

  “You should get some sleep,” said Elliot.

  “You, too.”

  Elliot reached over and hit the light. Not for the first time, he wondered what it meant for Audrey to be the Crimsonata. If she chose that destiny, what her life would be. If she would even get that choice.

  Maybe they should just turn north now. Head that way while they could. He was glad his car was only two years old and in great condition. Hit another state tomorrow. Tennessee? That sounded right. Wherever they needed to go.

  Whatever Audrey needed.

  CHAPTER 24

  It was time for the will of the Ovessa to be imposed upon Southard, Indiana.

  The Invocated slowly came out from their hiding place in the abandoned dollar store, under the cover darkness. The citizens had retreated to their homes, away from the failing businesses for the day, back to their small and miserable lives. The Invocated moved in droves, silent and swift, as the long reaching fingers of a greater intent.

  They swept through the streets, gliding across asphalt and lawn alike. Clad in white, they were specters, wraiths, the personification of doom. Abominations lurched unheard toward doors and windows across the town, wiggled them open or broke them down, however they must. The noise woke some, but not many.

  The Methodist Reverend was still so drunk he fell out of bed at the sound of his front door being bashed in. His mind couldn’t process the noise he heard, couldn’t even reconcile what time it was. He staggered from his bedroom, clad in underwear, T-shirt and one sock, to the top of his stairs and blinked bleary eyed down at the things rising up toward him. Without his glasses, he couldn’t make out much. Dressed all in white, his fuzzy brain took them to be orderlies for a moment. But that didn’t make sense. He opened his mouth to protest their presence in his home, only to find a hand thrust down his throat. It pushed him back as he felt fingers clawing apart his tongue. Flailing, he began to beat on the arm. Another hand found his neck and warm wetness spilled down the front of his shirt. The reverend called out for his god, but no answers came.

  Looking over some late-night paperwork, the Mayor of Southard was wide-awake when the Invocated came crashing through the sliding screen door behind him. Screaming and pissing himself, he leapt up from his desk and tried to run to his gun cabinet. The creature swayed through the room, making its way towards him. Drawn by her husband’s cries, his wife rushed down, only to be confronted by a monstrosity in white rags. Lunging, it gutted her with a single swipe. Still screaming, the Mayor continued to fumble with the lock on his gun cabinet as the Invocated bore down on him. Taking the Mayor’s blubbering face in its hand, it began to carve haphazardly. Strips of skin fell in bloody tatters to the floor and continued to do so long after the Mayor had passed out.

  The children of the man who ran the Chamber of Commerce hid in a closet and listened as the Invocated shattered their father’s arms. In the dark, they could see nothing through the door but could hear all of it. They could hear their terrible, rage-fueled father whimper like an infant as more wet sounds were made. Wet, sloppy sounds. He whimpered and begged, his voice sounded like he had a mouthful of cereal. The children cowered and hugged onto each other, unable to imagine what could make their father sound like that. Then the closet door burst open and a nightmare stood over them, glaring down at them with eyes far too big. It would show them how such noises were made.

  The high school valedictorian lay on her bed, bleeding out. She had been sound asleep when the attack came, barely conscious when the thing had gutted her. Her hand shaking, she tried to push her intestines back inside herself. No choice one way or another now, only death. She had heard her parents screaming shortly after waking, hadn’t she? Maybe that had been her screaming. There had only been one incision, clean across her belly, dumping her out. The person who did it wore some kind of Halloween mask. She had no idea why, but it didn’t matter now. She was so tired.

  The meth junkie had been wide-awake, ready to leave his house to go to a friend’s, and a hopeful score, when the Invocated came. He ran, as fast and as far as he could. It hadn’t helped. He had been found, crouched behind a dumpster blocks away, and cornered. At first the junkie tried to run again, a slash caught him in the ribs and he dropped to the street. Felled, three of the mutilated creatures surrounded him. He pleaded for his life, offering everything he could think of – money, drugs, sexual favors. The Invocated wanted nothing but to see the will of the Ovessa done. They tore into him, piece by piece, leaving little more than pulp and stain.

  The father sobbed uncontrollably in his upstairs hallway, clinging to the body of his butchered wife. She’d bled out in his arms over ten minutes ago and there was nothing he could do about it. He was just as helpless to stop the maniacs from killing his three children, ages eleven, eight, and two. They had come in and laid waste to his family, laid waste to his life. What did a job matter when there was no one to take care of? The monsters hadn’t touched him except to hurl him into the old wardrobe long enough to keep him out of the way. Seeing his whole family slaughtered was worse than dying. Did they know that, did they do that on purpose? He wept and held his cooling wife closer.

  Gazing up at the Invocated from her recliner, the old woman simply said, “It’s about time.”

  The nurse rushed down the hallway, chaos behind her. Something had overtaken the hospital, something butchering everyone in sight. There was blood everywhere, the smell of piss and feces pungent. Bodies lay where they had fallen. People dressed in white with faces out of a horror movie. The nurse found a scalpel on a forgotten surgical tray and hid in an empty patients’ room. If she stayed behind the partition curtain, she thought she might be safe. Only moments later, the door was battered in and they swarmed. She screamed as they drug her to the floor and began their own procedure upon her. Bit by bit, her face was removed, pieces hurled against the window. Bit by bit, her sanity was drowned in blood.

  Before dawn, the Invocated slunk back to the portal in the dollar store. Southard, Indiana has felt the First Announcement. It had a population of 8,924 and now it has far less. Only eighty-two of the Invocated were released on the town for a six-hour span, and in that time, over two-thirds of the town were either outright killed or grievously injured. Only a little over ten percent miraculously walked away without injuries of any kind, most of them seemingly sparred by the attackers for no reason.

  It was too fast, too random, too chaotic.

  And it was only the beginning.

  CHAPTER 25

  The darkness was broken up by thin strips of light, barely enough to illuminate. Just enough to tease. She was naked, coated in sweat, sliding against another body. Many bodies. Hands touched her, caressed her, coaxed a moan from her mouth. Two fingers found their way along her tongue. She sucked on them for a moment, caught up by the frenzy. Two more fingers slid in between her legs.

  The lights flickered faster, a strobing effect. Her body found skin everywhere she moved, slick and ready. Sighs and grunts filled her ears. Fingers working away at her drew her closer to orgasm as she felt warmth pour over her. Liquid warmth. Coated in a stickiness now. A sea of bodies fucking in blood. Her blood.

  More fingers gripped her hair in a fist as a nipple brushed against her mouth, the…

  Audrey was ripped from the dream by the sound of the door being kicked in. Jarred awake, she almost fell off the bed as she tried to get her bearings. Two people were storming into their room, the man i
n front scowling at her.

  “What the fuck!” exclaimed Elliot, leaping off his spot on the other bed.

  The man backhanded him with the butt of a pistol, sending her brother crashing back into an end table. The woman frowned down at Elliot, and looked ready to help him up, but turned back to Audrey. While her gun was pointed at the floor, the man’s was pointed directly at Audrey’s face.

  “Are you Audrey Lynn Darrow?” he asked.

  “Yes?”

  “You’re coming with us.”

  “Like hell I am!”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  “Who the hell are you people?”

  “We’re the people who save the world from freaks like you most days.”

  “Cute.”

  “Today, however, we…”

  A shout from outside pulled his attention away. If it was possible, he frowned even deeper.

  “Watch them,” he said to the woman.

  Audrey glanced over at her, a young woman who didn’t look much older than she. “Do you mind if I put on my shorts as opposed to sitting here in my underwear?”

  The woman holding the gun sighed and nodded.

  “Elliot, are you okay?” asked Audrey.

  “Just pissed off,” he said, getting up.

  “Stay on the bed, please. I really don’t want to have to shoot you.”

  Shots rang from outside, punctuating her statement.

  “Jesus, what the hell are they shooting at?” asked Elliot.

  “I don’t know,” said the woman, her face growing dark.

  The woman moved to the door to peer out. Elliot looked over to Audrey and motioned for her to hurriedly get her shoes and shorts on, grab her purse. He put his own shoes on and snagged the keys to the car. Audrey was glad that they hadn’t bothered dragging any luggage in for once. More gunshots and yells echoed from outside.

  Elliot made to sneak up behind the woman and rush her, but just as he was ready to move, she bolted from her spot by the door. Scrambling to take her place, Audrey and Elliot looked out across the parking lot and witnessed a battle escalating. People, like the one who had attacked them at the casino, over a dozen of them. Mutilated faces and dressed in white rags. They attacked like pack animals, stalking the two who had broken into their room plus another man who lay wounded. It was taking a flurry of bullets to drop them, a single shot doing little to slow them down.

 

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