The Dark at the End rj-15

by F. Paul Wilson

  “In there!”

  He had no idea if it would protect them from whatever was out there, but he saw no other options.

  Their flashlights-all three of them-died just before the room door slammed open.

  Weezy screamed, Eddie shouted in terror. For want of anything better to do, Jack dropped to one knee and fired a half dozen quick shots at the doorway. The muzzle flashes revealed what looked like a glistening gray surface sliding past, oblivious to the bullets. Nothing appeared to be entering the room so Jack saved his rounds.

  Maybe ten seconds later the sounds and the sense of massive movement faded away, and their flashlights came on. All three beams zipped to the doorway.

  “What the hell was that?” Eddie said.

  Jack shook his head. “Not sure I want to know. But I do want to know what’s going on here. Weezy-any ideas?”

  “Right now I’m having a little trouble thinking about anything but getting out of here.”

  “I’m with you on that. The Lonely Pine Motel doesn’t sound so bad now, does it.”

  “Sounds like paradise.”

  Glock held before him, Jack eased toward the gaping doorway and the darkness beyond it. Eddie came up beside him.

  “God, that thing is loud,” he whispered.

  “The pistol?”

  “Yeah. My ears are ringing.”

  So were Jack’s.

  “Never fired one?”

  “Shot my share of rifles, but always outside.”

  Yeah, inside a small, closed room was a different ball game.

  Jack poked his head through the doorway and flashed his beam quickly in both directions. Empty.

  Except for the slime.

  The walls, floor, and ceiling glistened with a mucousy substance, as if some giant slug had just passed.

  “Come on, Weezy,” Eddie said, stepping into the hall. “Let’s get the hell-”

  He slipped on the slime and would have gone down if Jack hadn’t caught his arm.

  “Steady, guy.”

  Eddie stepped back inside, wiping his shoe on the floor.

  “Slippery as hell. We’re going to have to be careful.”

  Weezy was reaching under her bed. “Let me get my backpack and-”

  The door slammed shut again.

  “Ah, jeez,” Jack said. “Now what?”

  A startling clatter from the corner of the room: The two chairs had fallen from the ceiling.

  Jack pulled on the doorknob and the door swung open with no problem. The hall seemed even darker than before. His flash beam picked up no glistening mucus this time. In fact, it picked up nothing at all. The hallway was gone, and in its place…

  Darkness.

  A darkness so absolute it swallowed his flash beam.

  “Okay, Jack,” Eddie said. “What the hell is that?”

  “Wish I knew.”

  He did know it made his gut crawl. He couldn’t say why. Maybe it was the sense of emptiness in that blackness.

  He backed up a step, reaching for the door to slam it closed, but the blackness didn’t enter the room. It simply sat there, absorbing light. A return trip to the window showed the same tranquil scene as before. Nothing had changed out there, but what had happened in the hall? What was the darkness? What did it hide?

  He returned to the doorway.

  “Keep back, Jack,” Weezy said.

  He hardly needed to be told that. But as he approached he again sensed that empty feeling out there. He had a strange impression that the hallway wasn’t simply hidden in the blackness, but was no longer there. A feeling that nothing was out there, not even light.

  He handed Eddie his flash and stuck the Glock into his waistband. Then he grabbed a chair from the nearby pile of furniture.

  “Jack?” Weezy said behind him. “What-?”

  “Just a little experiment.”

  He tossed the chair through the doorway and then stepped back, listening… and listening.

  Nothing.

  It should have hit the hallway floor. But it didn’t. If by some stretch of possibility that was gone, it should have landed on the first floor. But it didn’t. After that, some clatter from the basement should have echoed up. But it didn’t.

  “Jack?” Eddie handed back the flashlight as he stepped up beside him and stared into the black. “What happened to the chair?”

  “Not a clue. It could be still falling, for all I know.”

  The blackness was bottomless. Or effectively so.

  Eddie was shaking his head. “No… no… shit like this doesn’t happen. It’s some kind of trick… an illusion.”

  He turned, grabbed another chair, and heaved it through the door.

  The three of them stood in silence, listening.

  No sound. Falling is silent.

  Eddie backed away. “What have we got ourselves into?”

  Shaken, Jack closed the door.

  Eddie flicked the beam of his flashlight back and forth between Jack and Weezy. Hard to say which wobbled more: the beam or his voice. “And how can you two be so calm about it?”

  “I’ve been living with these sorts of things for years now. And I’ve had more practice hiding it. And your sister’s suspected this stuff since she was a kid.”

  Jack turned to Weezy. He didn’t want to shine the light in her eyes, so he kept the beam trained on the mattress.

  “Okay, Weez. You’re the expert here. What’s going on?”

  “I-I don’t know. I can make some guesses but-”

  “Guess away. Please.”

  “Well, the Compendium says that the mortar used to build the Lodges is often mixed with some dirt from a nexus point.”

  “What’s a nexus point?” Eddie said.

  “Places around the globe where the barrier-sometimes called the Veil-between our world and the Otherness is very thin.”

  “There’s one not too far from here,” Jack said.

  Weezy stared at him. “You know about that?”

  “I used to hang with some piney kids in high school. They mentioned a ‘bald spot’ deep in the Pines where weird lights flashed at certain times and nothing ever grew-hence the name.”

  “Sounds like the nexus point.”

  “How long has all this been going on?” Eddie said.

  Weezy looked at him. “Almost forever.”

  “But… it’s practically in our backyard-or at least what was our backyard.”

  She shrugged. “Tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

  Jack remembered one of Eddie’s favorite descriptors for his older sister: crazy.

  “Well, I’m listening now. Black is black, remember? This can’t happen every night. Why’s it happening now?”

  “Well, if you combine the nexus point dirt in the mortar, and a nexus point not too far away, with the proximity of an equinox, maybe… ow!”

  She had been reaching into the backpack where she kept the Compendium. Now she snatched it away and shook it in the air.

  Eddie stepped closer. “What happened?”

  “The Compendium. It’s hot.”

  Jack reached in and gave it a quick touch. Right. Hot. Hot enough to raise a blister if you tried to hold it.

  “The book must be reacting to all this weirdness,” she said.

  Jack wondered about that. “Maybe it’s triggering it.”

  Weezy nodded. “That could be. Take all those elements-the mortar, the proximity to the nexus point, the time in the sun’s cycle-and they may not be enough. But add this relic of the First Age to the mix and… who knows?”

  “Whatever the cause,” he said, “we’re stuck here.”

  “No!” Eddie said, going to the window. “We can’t stay here! We’ve got to get out!”

  Jack said, “Not gonna happen. But if we stick together and stay awake, we’ll make it to morning.”

  Eddie leaned closer. “How can you be so sure this’ll change by then?”

  “Sunrise,” Weezy said, nodding. “Sunrise will change everyth
ing. You’ll see.”

  2

  Sunrise.

  Rasalom stood in the cow’s kitchen and watched the sky turn bright orange above the watery horizon. By noon-if the storm hadn’t changed the boat’s schedule-it would arrive at her dock and he would be bound for the mainland.

  Her phone service had returned last night and he’d put in a call to Szeto. He’d been satisfied with his performance in the probe against the Lady-proof beyond doubt that the Fhinntmanchca had not altered her invulnerability to Earthly assault. He seemed competent, ruthless, and enthusiastic-an excellent melange of qualities-and so Rasalom had rewarded him with another assignment.

  But Szeto had not answered, and had not returned the call despite a message to contact him immediately.

  Rasalom sighed. He supposed he would have to call Drexler. He knew his anger at the man was unjustified. His behavior had been exemplary in procuring the Orsa and creating the Fhinntmanchca. Not his fault that it failed to eliminate the Lady. And he had achieved the seemingly impossible by bringing down the Internet, albeit briefly. But long enough to further bloody an already hemorrhaging noosphere.

  And yet, the Lady persisted.

  Rasalom did not understand how. He could only assume that she had somehow evolved to a point where she could exist independently of the noosphere.

  Again, not Drexler’s fault.

  Yet Rasalom had vented his rage and frustration on the man, had been ready to tear him limb from limb. But he had restrained himself at the last moment. And now he was glad he had. Never discard a tool for which you might find future use.

  He punched Drexler’s number into the cow’s phone.

  “Hello?”

  His tone was appropriately cautious. He would not recognize the number on his caller ID.

  “Drexler, I have a task for you.”

  A few heartbeats of confused silence, then, “Sir! Of course! What do you wish?”

  “I want you to meet me at the Water Street docks in Sag Harbor. Leave in plenty of time to reach the docks by noon and wait for me there.”

  He supposed he could have hired a cab, but he had no money, and even if he did, he did not want to be seen by any more people than absolutely necessary. Besides, Drexler’s Bentley was very comfortable.

  “Yes, sir. Immediately. I… we heard about the house. We thought-”

  “We will discuss that in the car. For that reason you will leave your driver and come alone.”

  “Of course. I am very glad to hear from you. We feared the worst.”

  “Yes. I’m sure.”

  He hung up.

  How pathetically eager to please. Right now Drexler would do anything, perhaps even rape his mother, to return to the good graces of the One. He and the other higher members of the Septimus Order who knew of the Otherness and the Change were under the impression they would be given special treatment once the Change began. Rasalom encouraged that belief. It made them willing participants in their own demise.

  But only the One would change with the Change.

  Or so he had been led to believe.

  What if the Otherness had been toying with him all these millennia? While improbable, it was not impossible. This was not the first time he had confronted the possibility, but he had no way to answer the question, so he let it go. He would continue on this path. Divergence, after all this time, was unthinkable.

  He heard the woman stirring in her room. Last night he had slipped in while she was sleeping and laid his hand on her head. Soon she would realize what he’d done to her.

  “Oh, dear God! Dear God!”

  There.

  He heard the approach of her scurrying footsteps as she continued to cry out to her deity.

  “Praise God! Praise him!”

  She hurtled into the kitchen and skidded to a halt before him.

  “I can see!” Tears coursed down her cheeks. “Dear God, I can see! It’s a miracle!”

  “You could see before,” he said, maintaining a bland, unimpressed air. “You inspected my wounds many times and-”

  “I could see blurry shapes and maybe a little more close up, but now I can really see! Everything is perfectly clear! It’s a miracle!”

  Her joy was nauseating.

  “Whatever was afflicting you has cleared up. That is hardly divine intervention.”

  “Don’t you understand? I had AMD and it’s incurable. Now I can see. I call that a miracle!”

  “As you wish.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Are you an angel?”

  He hadn’t seen that one coming.

  “A what?”

  “An angel, sent here by God to test me?”

  “That is perhaps the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

  “No… it makes sense to me now. God washed you up on shore to see if I’d be a good Samaritan and take care of you. And I did. So then He took Rocky from me to test me further. But still I didn’t reject Him. And so now I’m rewarded with my sight. Praise God!”

  “Well, if I’m his angel, I wish he’d give me back my hand.” He remembered his cover story and forced a sob. “Or even better… my family.”

  The cow added a sob of her own. “And I’d give up my sight if I could have Rocky back.”

  “Maybe God has a mission for you that requires sight.”

  She brightened. “You think so? I could be God’s instrument… I could do His work.”

  “Yes. That would be wonderful.”

  She looked around and made a face. “Having sight has its disadvantages. Look at this mess. I couldn’t see the dirt before. This place needs a good scrubbing.”

  As she bustled off, Rasalom could not help but smile at the cow’s comment.

  Having sight has its disadvantages…

  She could not realize how true those words, for she would curse her sight and beg her god for return of her blindness when the horrors of the Change reached her little island.

  3

  Eddie rammed his shovel into the hard-packed dirt. “How long do we keep this up?”

  “Digging?” Jack said, doing the same.

  “Yeah. When do we reach the point where we say two shovels aren’t cutting it and go hire some help?”

  Jack stopped and stared at the wall of hard-packed earth before them.

  Good question.

  And one Eddie would ask before either Jack or Weezy. Eddie had never seen the altered sigil. He’d only heard talk about it, so it wasn’t as real to him as to them. Jack could picture it right about here, leaning against the right-hand wall. But even if it hadn’t washed away, it might have fallen to the floor.

  Eddie would also ask because he still looked shaken by last night’s events. Jack wasn’t untouched-he realized the danger they’d been in-and he was sure Weezy wasn’t either, but they’d learned to expect the unexpected and inexplicable. Eddie was still a long way from that.

  Even though sunrise had brought everything back to normal, just as Weezy had predicted, Jack could tell Eddie wanted out of here. Because even though the hallway and beyond had been restored at first light, the two chairs they’d tossed through the door were nowhere in sight. They’d gone Somewhere Else.

  Jack wondered if that might be the same Somewhere Else his brother Tom had been taken. In truth, he didn’t even know if his brother was alive. But if he was, and in the same Somewhere Else, at least now he had someplace to park his doughy butt.

  But no matter what they found down here today, if they needed to stay over another night, they’d do it at the Lonely Pine Motel.

  “Jack?” Eddie said. “The end point?”

  “What?” He yanked himself back to the here and now. “Oh, sorry.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, pick something. I need a target.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m goal directed. It’s the way my mind works. It needs an end point. Give me one.”

  Jack thought a moment, then shrugged. “Two more feet.”

  Didn’t soun
d like much, but with a passage ten feet wide and eight feet high, that was 160 cubic feet of dirt. Eddie’s daunted look said he realized that.

  “And then what?”

  “Then we call Tommy.”

  “Do we know his number?”

  Jack smiled. Eddie was already preparing for defeat. Jack wasn’t ready to concede yet.

  “It was on the side of his truck.”

  He squinted at Jack. “You remember it?”

  “No, but I’ll bet your sister does.”

  “Sister does what?” Weezy said from behind them as she descended the ladder.

  “Remember Tommy the excavator’s phone number.”

  “Sure.” She rattled it off as she slipped on her work gloves. “You giving up?”

  “After two more feet,” Eddie said.

  Weezy took the shovel from her brother and gave Jack a semi-stern look.

  “Is we gonna stand here jawboning or is we gonna move some dirt?”

  Before Jack could answer, she drove her shovel into the wall of dirt And hit something that went clink!

  They all froze.

  Jack said, “Do that again.”

  She did, with the same result. Jack attacked the dirt in the area and within minutes a four-inch-wide expanse of gleaming black appeared.

  “That look familiar?” he said.

  “Does it ever.” Weezy’s smile was beatific as she turned to Eddie. “See? Same material as our little pyramid.”

  “So we’ve found it?”

  “We have.”

  But they had a lot of digging left to do to free it from the earth.

  4

  Ernst jumped at the sound of a knock on the car window. He turned and saw some disfigured derelict peering at him through the rear passenger window.

  Ernst waved him away. Probably wanted to wash the windshield or “Drexler, open the door.”

  That voice… he knew that-oh, no, it couldn’t be! He looked closely and saw that it was.

  The One.

  He fumbled for the LOCK toggle. The buttons popped up and the One entered the rear of the car. Ernst gaped at him. The hair had been burned off the right side of his scalp; scars stippled his right cheek. And his hand… his left hand was “Close your mouth. You look foolish.”

  “Yes, sir. It’s just that-”