Tar: An apocalyptic horror novella
Page 11
Broxy had been right to run; I should have done the same
That was Steven’s last thought before unconsciousness took him.
19
Amber had started to pace the floor by the time she checked her watch and realised Steven and Broxy weren’t back yet. She knew Steven’s secret even though he tried to hide it, but his body language couldn’t lie. She never mentioned anything to him, instead waiting for him to reveal it in his own time, if at all. She didn’t want him to feel embarrassed if she brought the subject up and knew that male pride would probably kick in and he would deny it anyway.
“He wouldn’t be out this long with the dog,” she muttered to no-one.
Just as Amber finished the sentence she thought she heard a noise at the back door. Almost like a scratching noise. She turned to face the kitchen, making her way slowly across the living room. The scratching noise gained intensity and volume as she got to the kitchen. Amber stared at the back door, not sure what to do. Her brain couldn’t quite work out what the noise was. It was as if lots of rats were trying to scratch their way through the door.
As her hand was reaching to the handle, her heart was thumping so hard she thought it would burst out of her chest. Her hand rested on the handle for a few seconds before slowly applying pressure downward. The creak of the brass door handle cut through her. Before the handle was fully down, the door burst open giving Amber such a shock that she stumbled backwards and fell over.
Before her body could compose itself, a black blur flashed by her. She thought she recognised it.
“Broxy….?”
The dog had sprinted through the kitchen, paws struggling to gain grip on the smooth lino and skidded into the living room. Immediately Broxy was up, gave himself a shake and ran for the sofa, making his way behind it. After a few seconds of shock Amber stood up, legs still shaking and headed slowly to the living room gently cooing Broxy’s name in a bid to coax him out.
“What happened Brox?” Amber asked, as if expecting the dog to magically start talking to her.
Broxy didn’t so much look at her but looked through her, as if in a trance. His body was still trembling. A chill ran up Amber’s spine.
“Where’s Steven?” she asked, a tremble of panic coursing through the sentence.
Amber was on her hands and knees right next to the terrified dog, trying to comfort him but he still shook. Her mind was in a daze – the need to find out where Steven was, but also to comfort Broxy at the same time.
With her mobile in hand, Amber dialled Steven’s number. Somewhere nearby she could hear the annoying pop ringtone he seemed to love so much. With a blaze of panic flowing through her body, she instantly darted out the back door, assuming Steven to be there wondering why she was in such a state. That mental image disappeared as soon as she stepped outside and realised he wasn’t actually there. The ringtone continued to ring as she slowly realised that it was actually inside the house. Turning back into the kitchen she spotted his phone lighting up in the corner of the worktop.
Fuck!
She stood up quickly and rushed through to the hall to get her trainers and jacket. Slipping her trainers on and zipping up her jacket, she made her way through to the kitchen drawer looking for the spare lead in a vain attempt to convince Broxy to go with her. As she approached the shaking dog it was obvious that that wasn’t going to happen.
“It’s OK Brox, you stay here.”
Broxy let out a whine as Amber headed towards the front door.
Stepping out into the darkness, it suddenly dawned on her that she had forgotten a torch. Turning round to open the door, the security light came to life and cut through the darkness, lighting up the driveway.
Better get one anyway
Opening the door, she headed through to the kitchen and the drawer that contained the random items that always came in handy. At the back she found the torch. Clicking the button twice the beam flashed on then off. She decided to look in on Broxy so stuck her head into the living room – he still hadn’t moved from behind the sofa but seemed to be shaking slightly less. His sad eyes that pierced into her didn’t bring her any relief though.
The security light was already off by the time Amber went back outside but it came straight back on as soon as she was detected like a guardian bathing her in a protective glow. She headed down to the end of the drive clicking the torch on before the security light decided to switch itself off again.
The dark had never bothered Amber before, but the silence in the air as she stood wondering which way to go unnerved her. She expected to hear birds tweeting or even crickets in the fields nearby.
But there was nothing.
Pull yourself together Amber.
Having had a look at the surrounding area prior to putting an offer on the house, Amber knew there was a house nearby, what looked like a farmhouse. She faced that direction and decided to head that way.
20
Making her way along Dobson Lane, Amber couldn’t help but feel intimidated by the silence. Not even the wind rustled the leaves.
Where is all the wildlife?
She whispered Steven’s name as she walked, flicking the torch left and right to check the nearby ditches, checking to see if he was lying somewhere injured. She didn’t feel confident enough to shout Steven’s name, some primal feeling about making herself known to whatever lay in wait in the darkness.
Fucking hell Amber, stop being ridiculous.
“Steven!”
The word was out before she had time to suppress it, taking her by surprise. She stopped and looked around for any sign of him, straining to concentrate her hearing on the smallest noise.
Still nothing.
Amber resumed her journey along the road, nearing the corner that turned up towards the farmhouse. She could see the dark outline from where she stood and noticed no lights were on.
Jesus, please let someone be in.
In the hope of being in the presence of other people, Amber quickened her pace up the slight incline in the road to get there quicker. As she reached the top she could feel her calves beginning to burn at the added energy she used. Fitness had never been her strong point.
Approaching the house on the right hand side, it was as if someone had thrown a blanket over the fields on the left, coating them in darkness. She couldn’t see into the distance at all until the torch light cut through it. A sense of relief shot through her body as she swept the torch over the field and saw the sheep sleeping. It had been so quiet this far that it was nice to see some living creatures nearby.
Directing the torch back round to the house, Amber set off up the road towards it.
21
Amber was aware of the noise her trainers made on the road, if you could call it that. More of a dirt track really. She kept turning her ankle on loose stones and some were accidently kicked into the nearby bushes, which caused her to stop and flash the light in that direction. A second would go by before her brain registered that it was actually her that caused it.
The farmhouse stood on the right hand side with some dark, menacing outhouses on the left. There was no sign of life, but Amber edged closer to the house anyway. As she got closer, something didn’t quite look right with the front of the building but it took a second to figure it out, at about the same time her torch settled on the door.
It sat slightly open.
Looking around again, Amber shone the beam of light to either side then behind her to make sure that no-one was lurking about. She moved closer to the door, heart racing and hand shaking. Not quite sure why, but something didn’t quite feel right.
She pushed the door open slightly and it gave a creak, causing her to wince. Not willing to fully intrude on a stranger’s property she whispered, “Hello, is anyone here?” Silence was the answer that returned so she repeated the question. The door let out a groan as she pushed it open fully and the light from her torch settled on the chaotic scene in front of her.
Picture frames lay stre
wn across the floor, a side table toppled over. Glass from the picture frames glistened on the floor as the light hit them.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
With her feet crunching on the glass she moved further into the hall, her hand moving the torch back and forth across each wall. There were strange marks that littered the wallpaper, what looked like scratch marks. Running her fingers in the grooves they were long and quite deep.
A shudder ran through her body.
This isn’t good.
“Hello? I need some assistance,” Amber whispered in a shaky voice.
Silence.
There was a room off to the side of the hall and, suppressing her nervousness for a second, she proceeded towards it. A step from the doorway though, as she was about to direct the beam of light into the room, a creak came from upstairs.
She froze.
Glued to the spot by fear Amber listened intently for another sound, but nothing came. Reluctantly she turned around towards the staircase and pointed her torch towards it. She stopped and listened again, watching and waiting for something to descend. A few minutes seemed to go by before she managed to regain control of her body from the shackles of fear and turn back to the room she initially had planned to enter.
Amber moved forward gradually, still aware of the noise that came from upstairs, trying to watch where she put her feet. She couldn’t really avoid the glass as there was too much scattered about.
Standing in the doorway of- what she now knew to be, the living room she could barely contain her revulsion as, what appeared to be blood, streaked across the walls and floors. The destruction appeared to carry on from the hall to this room; furniture had been toppled over, glass and bits of wood lay on the floor. Amber didn’t want to move any further, but her morbid curiosity compelled her to continue into the room. As she did so there was a smell she couldn’t quite identify, a coppery sort of scent. Heading towards the over-turned sofa, she paused for a few seconds, turning to look behind in the direction of the stairs then turned back to the sofa.
Horror films had never bothered her, but being in this situation now felt like she had been dropped right into the middle of one and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.
She peered over the sofa and instantly regretted it.
A man, or what was left of him, lay spread-eagled on the floor. Deep gashes and bite marks scored his torso, several deep lines drawing blood ran over his arms. The face was the worst though; three claw marks raked across the face and an eye hung loose from its socket. The deep red hole where his throat used to be was the last straw. Amber turned and vomited, the acidy taste of bile burning her throat as it piled on the floor. Wiping her mouth with her sleeve she backed away slowly from the horrible scene and ended up in the hall again. She rested against the wall, closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths.
Suddenly remembering her mobile, she patted the pockets of her jacket to find it. Removing it from her pocket the screen lit up.
No Service.
“Of course, what else can go wrong?” she muttered to herself.
As soon as the words left her mouth, another noise came from upstairs. Not a sound like before, more as if something was being dragged across the floor. Amber shone the light at the bottom of the staircase, staring wide eyed at what might appear. She was torn between going to investigate and getting the hell out of there. After reminding herself what happened last time curiosity got the better of her she decided to back away and leave this place. She would head back home and phone the police.
“…elp.”
She couldn’t be sure, but it almost sounded as if she heard someone speak.
Shit!
“Hello?” she whispered.
Again, there was a noise which she couldn’t make out. Making her way cautiously towards the stairs her heart began to thump hard in her chest. When she reached the bottom step she put her left foot on it. Her right foot remained on the hall floor while she composed herself enough to climb them.
The stairs swept round to the left and Amber tried to point her torch round the corner as much as she could from the position she was in, anything to stop from proceeding up the stairs. It was no good; she would have to go up to find the source of the noise. Moving her right foot up to the next step, she made her way up. She tried to keep her footsteps to the outside of each floorboard to minimise the creaking noises, but the farmhouse seemed reluctant to hide her presence. As she got to the top step she had a clear view of a short hallway.
A woman sat with her back against the wall. Once again, blood streaked the walls and floor. The woman was a mess but looked as if she was breathing…..just. Short, sharp breaths escaped her mouth as her chest moved rapidly up and down.
As Amber edged closer she could see that the woman was in a similar state to the man downstairs, but somehow was still alive. Her clothes were ripped and blood made them cling to her body. Her hand lay across her stomach in a bid to stop her intestines getting loose and spilling on the floor. It was failing.
The woman turned her head toward Amber.
She gasped.
Blood covered the woman’s face but Amber could see that her cheek hung down and the inside of her mouth could be seen, teeth showing like a horrific Halloween mask. Her eyes bore into Amber and compelled her to move forward towards her. Amber did.
“Are you OK?”
Amber cringed as soon as the words left her mouth and she silently chastised herself.
How stupid, of course she isn’t.
“What happened here?”
As the woman tried to answer, a spittle of blood dribbled from her mouth.
“…orry…..this…..shouldn’t.…happened.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Leave……get……safety………don’t……come…….back.”
“You need help though”
“No…..too late,” the woman spluttered as a cough came and blood splattered on the floor.
“It…….come….back….you….need…….to…go”
The woman’s breathing slowed now and Amber realised it was going to be too late to get help. She couldn’t move, mesmerised by the woman in front of her. It took a small bubble of blood to appear out of the woman’s mouth to break the spell. Amber then noticed that her chest had stopped moving.
The house fell eerily silent once again.
Tears formed and started to flow down Amber’s face as she realised the extent of the situation she was now in. It dawned on her that she wasn’t going to see Steven again. That conclusion was summed up by how scared Broxy was and the nightmare inside this house. She was convinced that whatever happened here, Steven was also a victim of the same fate. Amber crumpled to the floor and leaned against the wall with her head in her hands sobbing freely.
22
Amber didn’t know how long she had been there but lifted her head from her hands and wiped away the tears. She needed to get back home to call the police.
Eventually standing up and rubbing her eyes once again she edged backwards toward the stairs, not taking her eyes off the deceased woman. She couldn’t even begin to comprehend what had caused this carnage. More blood was in this house than she had ever seen before and the chaos was as if someone was on a rampage.
What if they are still about?
Amber shuddered and tried to suppress the thought but now that it had made itself known it wasn’t so easy.
Walking in a daze, she took the stairs slowly back down to the ground floor. Her eyes glanced to the living room and back again, not wishing to remind herself of the horrific scene she had stumbled upon even though she knew the image was going to be forever burnt into her mind. She headed towards the open front door.
Before reaching the entrance she noticed another door which lay slightly ajar on the right hand side. She reached out her hand and eased it open lightly. Thankfully this one didn’t creak or groan, it swung open effortlessly but revealed an old wooden set of steps that led down int
o the darkness. Curiosity would not get the better of her for a third time tonight and she leaned in, grabbed the door handle and pulled it shut to its original position. She continued to the front door.
Standing at the entrance she gazed left then right into the night, willing the light of the torch to reach further than it did. She didn’t want to go out after witnessing the aftermath of what happened in the house but she knew she had to make it back to her house.
Not quite knowing why, Amber closed the front door as far as it would go before stepping back out onto the stony track.
A few steps into her journey down the road there was a rustling sound behind her. Instantly she turned around shining the torch back at the house.
Nothing moved.
Maybe the door swung open.
Amber took half a step backwards, still facing towards the house. Not convinced it was the door, she took another.
And another.
Another noise this time, but it came from over by the outhouses. She flicked the torch over in that direction and held it as steady as her hands would allow. Which wasn’t very steady. She didn’t realise it, but for a few seconds she was holding her breath, some instinct within urging her to keep quiet. Her heartbeat increased and she could feel it thudding against her chest. She was almost certain that whatever made the noise could hear it as well. There was silence now but Amber had an inexplicable feeling that she was being watched.
By who, she didn’t know.
She kept edging backwards down the road, as quiet and as slow as she could. Convinced she was nearly at the end of the track and onto the main road, she was about to breathe a sigh of relief when another noise stopped her in her tracks.
A low guttural growl that seemed to increase in volume the longer it went on.