“Thank you,” Eric whispered. “That’s all I wanted to know.”
“I think you already did,” Ben replied.
Ben reclined and listened to the rain as Danny’s sobs faded. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a battered pack of cigarettes.
Eric reached for one. “If there’s a chance we could die anyway, what’s the harm?”
Danny wiped his eyes and laughed. “He has a point.”
Ben handed them each a cigarette and lit them. Sam choked out a great cloud of white smoke as Danny patted her on the back. For the next five minutes, they smoked in silence except for Sam’s random bursts of coughing. She swore if they survived, she’d never touch a cigarette again.
“So what happens now?” Danny asked, crushing his smoke into the ashtray.
“We wait,” Ben answered. “When it begins, you’ll know what to do.”
Sacrifice myself? Danny thought. There has to be another way.
“There is,” Ben said, pulling Danny’s thoughts out of the air. “If you look deep down inside yourself, you’ll find a power you never dreamed of… the tools are within you, you only need to figure out how to use them.”
“Show me,” Danny pleaded. “Teach me how.”
“That’s something even the Guardians have never been able to understand. Doorways are complex individuals with the ability to create and destroy, but the knowledge of how has always eluded us. Only you can harness that power.”
“What if I can’t?”
“You already know the answer to that, Danny.”
He nodded and inhaled deeply.
“When it begins, I will find you, and I will help as much as I can. Until then, there’s nothing more I can do.”
***
They walked silently toward Eric’s house, Sam and Danny holding hands, Eric trailing behind.
“I’m going for a walk,” he said. “I can’t go in there right now.”
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Danny asked.
“I don’t know what to think. I guess so. Besides, I think you two would like to be alone.” He winked at Sam and walked away.
“Do you really think he’ll be okay?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, I do. He’s one of the strongest people I know. He has to be. When you live every day like it’s a constant fight for survival, I think you grow a pretty thick skin.”
They walked past Brent’s house, looked up, and waited to see if he’d run outside with a smile on his face, cracking jokes and complaining about the heat. Danny was hopeful, but he knew better.
All those long nights spent together, getting into trouble or running away from it, laughing so hard that tears spilled down their cheeks; listening to their favorite music together, locked in Brent’s bedroom until the wee hours of the morning, huddled over the stereo and sharing a pair of headphones.
Danny thought it would last forever.
Brent watched them pass from his bedroom window. He peeked through the heavy sheet, breathing heavily and sweating profusely from fever. His leg had gotten much worse. The pain had receded, replaced by a numb tingle that had begun in his thigh and quickly spread to the rest of his body. The sting had turned black, oozing a steady stream of infected blood.
He walked around in his underwear, no longer bothering with clothing or basic hygiene. His parents sat at the dining room table, staring at nothing, barely noticing as clouds of wasps chewed at their flesh.
His bedroom was barren. The damaged furniture had been removed but never replaced. The walls were water-stained, and the carpet had been torn out, leaving only cold, bare wood. Heavy sheets hung over the windows, blocking most of the light from outside. This suited Brent just fine; the light was beginning to hurt his eyes.
He sat on the floor staring at the ceiling as hundreds of wasps gathered with a soothing hum. Clear liquid dripped from their developing stingers, numbing Brent’s skin as he writhed on the bedroom floor. He closed his eyes and waited for them to return to their festering nest.
Brent removed his piss-stained underwear and masturbated furiously as the wasps burrowed back into the rotten meat of his thigh. The only pleasure from the act was feeling the wasps come home.
***
“I’ll be right back,” Sam said. She walked into the small bathroom and closed the door behind her.
Danny sat on the couch and let the air-conditioner dry the sweat on his forehead. His mind raced. Muddled thoughts and images collided, ricocheted, became an endless drone of useless information. He was so lost in his thoughts he never heard Sam re-enter the room. A shadow passed over him, causing him to quickly sit up with a jerk.
Sam stood over him, completely naked.
“You… what are you doing?” Danny stammered.
Sam smiled but said nothing. Her bare flesh was covered in goosebumps, her legs crossed at the ankles. Danny watched her carefully, taking in every detail. She slowly uncrossed her ankles and bit her lip playfully. Danny’s eyes drifted down, first to the smooth skin of her stomach, then lower to the patch of thin, dark hair in her groin.
“Well?” she asked shyly.
“You’re… um… well, you’re naked!”
She ran her fingertips over her bare thighs. “You’re a fast learner,” she joked.
“I’ve always been a good student.”
Sam laughed hard as her hands fell away and her inhibitions melted. He watched as the muscles in her abdomen tightened, watched as her small, firm breasts heaved with laughter. He answered with a brief laugh of his own, suddenly feeling stupid.
“Are you laughing at me?”
“No, of course not. I guess I’m a little embarrassed that Eric seemed to know what was going to happen before I did.”
“And you said you’re a good student.”
Danny shrugged.
Sam sat on the edge of the couch, her bare leg touching his arm. Danny looked into her eyes and couldn’t remember a time he’d felt this way. He’d dreamed of moments like this but never thought it would happen. She slowly leaned down, closing her eyes, her lips parting. Danny followed her lead and inhaled the sweet, delicate scent of her perfume. Through his shirt, he felt the rigid points of Sam’s nipples on his chest. He tasted her breath.
Sam kissed him, lightly at first, and growing more passionate. She trembled as Danny wrapped his arms around her and traced the contour of her spine with his fingertips. Their breath quickened. She pulled away, giggled, and rubbed his chest through his t-shirt. Her hand drifted lower, stopping briefly at the waistband of his shorts. She looked at Danny questioningly, silently asking permission to go further. Wordlessly, permission was granted. Her fingers crept beneath the elastic, caressing him tenderly. Danny sucked in a breath and held it.
“We need to get you out of these clothes,” Sam said, clumsily pulling his shirt over his head.
“I haven’t done this before,” he blurted. “I might not know exactly what I’m doing.”
She stood and looked down at him, noticing the telltale bulge in the front of his shorts. “I haven’t either, but I doubt it’s that complicated.”
She grabbed his hand and urged him to stand and follow. She led him to the second floor and closed her bedroom door behind them.
For a while, they were the last two humans on Earth.
Nothing else mattered.
***
Eric walked aimlessly, paying little attention to traffic, people, or the persistent thunder shaking the ground beneath his feet. He was trapped in his own head, rage building to a melting point, hatred leaking from every pore.
The Skryel had to die.
He stopped to rest at the Martin Street bridge as the rain quickened, pasting his clothes to his skin. He leaned over the railing and watched ducks paddling back and forth effortlessly. The river was low despite all the recent storms. A group of younger boys rode their bikes past him, laughing and shouting and splashing through puddles. Eric was that way once, they all were. The days of carefree, reckless abando
n had come to a swift and bitter end.
Eric returned his gaze to the river below. He rubbed rain from his eyes and shook his head, unsure if what he was seeing was real. The family of ducks floated downriver toward him, now dead and bloated and covered in a black cloud of hungry flies. The water had become a thick, red sludge that stained the rock along the riverbank. The smell metallic and gassy. He held a hand over his nose and gagged.
“What’s going on?” a voice asked from behind. Eric turned to see one of the kids standing nearby. His shirt was torn, his knees skinned and bleeding.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Eric warned. “Why don’t you go home and stay inside, okay?”
“The birds,” he whispered. “The birds killed Jason.”
“The birds? What are you talking about?”
“They flew out of the trees, hundreds of them. They were huge. They were all bloody and missing feathers… and one of them didn’t have a beak. It was just gone. They came after us and we couldn’t do anything because they were so fast. Jason wrecked his bike, and they came out of the sky and started pecking at him! Well, not the one without a beak… his pecking days are over.”
“Hold on, calm down,” Eric said. The younger boy stopped talking but his lips continued moving, mumbling under his breath. His eyes were vacant. “Where is your friend now?”
“Oh, he’s dead!” the boy exclaimed. “They pulled out his eyes, and they ate them. Got his tongue too. I never saw someone without eyes before. It’s like he was wearing a mask, a special mask like the ones you can buy down at the Magic Shop for Halloween.” The boy giggled, teetering on the edge of sanity.
Eric put his hand on the kid’s shoulder to calm him, but he was far beyond comfort. The boy gazed into the rainy sky, grinning. He raised his hands to the heavens and stood on his toes as if doing so would get him closer.
“Now it’s my turn,” he laughed. “Time to make my special mask. Happy, happy Halloween, oh oh oh-oh,” he sang. “Let’s go birdies, make me a mask too.”
“Come on kid, be quiet, you’re gonna wake the dead.”
“Too late for that, the dead are already here.” He jumped up and down frantically, calling into the sky for the birds to return. His Red Sox hat slid from his head and landed in a dirty puddle.
Eric heard the birds before he saw them, an ugly, broken cackle that sounded like maniacal laughter. They glided in from the west, flying over the roofs over nearby houses. The boy hadn’t done them justice. They were broken and twisted, bald and bloody, most missing eyes or feet. One was missing its entire head, flying in formation with its decaying brothers and sisters.
These are the vultures Ben was talking about, he thought.
“Run,” Eric shouted. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“Shame on you, you said a bad word. I say it sometimes when my mom’s not around. It’s my little secret, just like my special mask. She’s gonna be so surprised.”
“I’m not messing around, we have to move.” The vultures were nearly on them. The rotting carrion stink washed over them in a nauseating wave. Eric reached for the boy, but he was already running in the opposite direction. Eric dove behind a parked car and slid beneath it as the boy ran toward them.
When he reached them, his laughter turned to screams of blinding agony. One of the vultures grabbed him by the shoulders and soared into the sky, playfully passing him around him to the others. Sharp, crooked talons pierced his flesh as blood rained from the sky.
“I just wanted a mask,” the boy yelled. “Stop hurting me!”
His cries ended abruptly as the vultures tore him apart. Chunks of flesh and bloody clothing fell to the wet street below. They chattered happily as they circled overhead. Eric crawled from beneath the car just as the boy’s body fell from the sky and landed on the roof of one of the houses. It slid over the wet shingles, tumbling over the edge and falling to the sidewalk with a wet smack.
Eric sat up and watched them circle above the street. On his left, a brown cat hissed as it choked on its own blood. It dragged itself across the ground by its front paws, its body torn in half. It cried out in pain, disappearing behind the car, leaving a crimson trail of intestines behind it.
A shirtless man in dirty khakis jogged down the middle of the road, screaming at a mangy, malnourished German Sheppard. “No, Scout, you greedy whore, you get away from there! That’s mine, goddammit!” The dog scampered away as the man bent over the boy’s ruined body, scooping up handfuls of warm brain matter and cramming them into his mouth.
Eric puked so violently, he felt like he’d done damage to this throat. He wiped his mouth and stood shakily. People ran in every direction, some screaming, many laughing. They pointed at the vultures in wonder like tourists at a local attraction. There was no sense of danger. A group had gathered around the shirtless man as he scarfed his hot meal from the sidewalk.
Eric turned and ran through the ACME parking lot, glancing over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t a target. A flood of people exited the supermarket, coughing harshly and covering their noses.
“I wouldn’t go in there if I was you,” a woman laughed. “The power’s out and the food’s gone bad. I have half a mind to write a very strongly worded letter to the manager about all this.”
Eric cupped his hands and placed his head against the large glass window. Inside, groups of shoppers dove for the exits, dropping their bags of rotten food along the way. The meat coolers were a writhing sea of maggots; produce had turned to slimy heaps of mold-covered sludge. A man ran down the dairy aisle, slipping in a lake of congealed milk and falling to the cracked linoleum.
The first explosion took Eric by surprise.
He watched, confused as the entire skyline appeared to move.
The Elmview Apartment Building twisted on its foundation.
The bottom five floors buckled and collapsed as the entire structure tilted precariously. Debris rained into the street, crushing cars and pedestrians beneath tons of falling brick. In the upper floors, thirteen stories above the ground, Eric saw terrified faces appear in some of the windows, peering out into a world gone mad as their home fell away from under them.
The building reached a forty-five-degree angle before gravity brought it crashing down. It hit the street and broke open like a wet cardboard box, spilling its contents into the road… including the mangled corpses of those who’d lived there. The bridge over Broad Street collapsed beneath the ruins, dumping debris into the river. Bloody water sprayed into the air and rained down as a sticky, foul-smelling mist.
Eric noticed the people surrounding him were paying very little attention to what had just happened. They were hypnotized by the Skryel’s influence, hidden behind the curtain of darkness that slowly ate away at the fabric of reality. As the sky cleared, Eric seized the opportunity to make a quick escape. He ran as far as he could before a leg cramp stopped him.
The evidence of the latest attack was everywhere. The intersections were jammed with wrecked vehicles, bloody drivers arguing about fault and insurance information. Storefront windows had been smashed all along Broad Street, covering the sidewalks in broken glass. There were puddles of blood everywhere, but no sign of bodies.
He walked the railroad tracks toward home, limping on his cramped leg. The fire hydrant at Elm Street had ruptured, spraying dirty water thirty feet in the air. Car alarms brayed in every section of town, creating a wall of noise that pierced Eric’s brain.
He turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks.
The street was empty.
The entire row of houses - including his own - was gone. There was no debris, no fire, no empty foundations… nothing. The block was a single unbroken patch of brown grass and stone, as if the houses had never existed. Stunned, Eric watched a pretty teenage girl run across the plot of ground where his living room had once stood.
“Can you believe it?” she asked. “An earthquake in Elmview!”
Eric’s stomach knotted painfully.
; They’re gone, he thought. All the times I wished they would disappear… but not like this.
For the first time, Eric was truly alone.
***
Danny and Sam were getting dressed when the world went to hell.
The house vibrated on its foundation as pictures fell from the walls and cracks appeared in the plaster. Outside, a large portion of the street collapsed into the sewers below. The beauty of their shared passion mercilessly faded.
“We have to go,” Sam said. “Is this it? Is it happening?”
One of the houses across the street collapsed in a cloud of dust; a giant oak tree snapped and tumbled into the road, dragging spitting power lines across the sidewalk; a vulture the size of a compact car swooped down with a screech and snatched a bulldog out of someone’s front yard; smoke poured from the broken windows of the neighboring house as fire exploded from the front door. Several blocks away, Elmview’s skyline changed forever as the Elmview Apartments crumbled to the ground.
“Oh, no,” Sam whined. “All those people…”
“You have to put it out of your head. This is what the Skryel wants… it wants to break us.”
A half-dozen columns of thick, black smoke drifted into the sky.
How many died? he wondered. How many souls will the Skryel take before it’s satisfied?
“As many as it can,” Sam said, replying to his thoughts as if he’d spoken them aloud. “It’ll take everything and everyone until there’s nothing left to destroy.”
Danny turned to her and gazed into her teary eyes. “I love you,” he said. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what that means, but it feels right.”
“I love you, Daniel Harper. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. It isn’t fair.”
Danny grabbed her and kissed her passionately. He suddenly felt there wasn’t enough time in the world to say and do the things he wanted. He felt his future unraveling.
It wasn’t fair, she was right about that.
“Hey lovebirds? The world is ending, or didn’t you notice?” Eric rounded the corner, soaking wet, panting, and coated in a reddish-pink film.
The Darkening (A Coming of Age Horror Novel) (The Great Rift Book 1) Page 19
