by J. Thorn
***
“C’mon, Gramps. We ain’t got all night.”
The voice from the broken window snapped Frank from his daze. He shut the glove box and walked back around to the rear of the truck. “What the hell am I doing?” he asked himself before dropping the tailgate.
The four demons appeared, their large skulls dancing and hissing in hopes of escaping their cell.
“Stay here until I signal you.” Oh, Frank. You’re talking to them and you expect them to listen? There ain’t no going home now, buddy. He waited, as did the hungry ghosts. “You understand. Good. I’m leaving this down, but you have to wait for the signal. When I give it, gorge yourselves. Then you’re going to help me satiate my desire.”
The newly turned gakis hissed, remaining inside the bed of Frank’s truck.
“Around back?” he asked, shouting toward the front window, unsure whether he was speaking to the same kid who had sucker punched him or not.
“Um, yeah? Ain't like we’re takin’ down the plywood for you.”
Frank walked toward the driveway and around the back of the house. Halfway down the drive, Frank reached down and picked up a crumbling red brick that had at one time been part of a decorative border on a finely manicured lawn. He felt the weight in it and moved his right hand behind his right hip as he turned near the spot where he had been sucker punched.
“I got the cash,” he said.
“Show it to me,” said the boy, stepping forward and revealing gold-plated teeth shining beneath a baseball cap turned sideways.
“It’s right here,” Frank said.
He brought the brick up hard and fast, driving it into the kid’s jaw. The bones snapped under the impact, and the broken jaw helped to muffle his cries of pain. Frank was on top of him before they hit the ground. He used the brick to pummel the boy’s skull until his head was nothing but a pile of bloody pulp. Frank dropped the brick on the dealer’s chest and turned toward his truck.
“So much for subtlety. They’re all yours, boys.”
The four creatures slithered from the bed of the truck and ran for the front window. Frank heard screams, glass breaking, and people running throughout the house. Within a matter of moments, silence returned to the desolate neighborhood.
Doug for Kelly.
***
She stared at her phone and wondered which number would be dialed. She hoped her fingers would tap Doug’s icon, but part of her worried she would dial Austin’s number. Taylor’s fingers shook, and she turned the screen off, deciding against making any call in such an emotional state. What was she going to say and to whom? Was she going to tell her husband that she was masturbating to some young guy slinging coffee or was she going to accuse Austin of turning into a monster to fuck her and then disappearing?
Taylor stepped into the shower and let the hot water wash down her body. She placed her hands on each side of the shower head and turned her face up to the spout.
Something is different, and you can feel it.
She shook her head, trying to deny it but unable to. Doug had not been the same since he came home from the house explosion, and she was now different, too.
Tainted.
The word popped into her head, and she considered it for a moment. “Tarnished. Tainted.” She said the words aloud and began to believe in them. It wasn’t just her or Doug; the entire town felt unbalanced. Pine Valley was not the same, and Taylor felt powerless to identify it, let alone deal with it. She wanted back into her life of planning PTA meetings and Sunday morning pancake breakfasts for the church. She wanted to help the kids with their homework and become excited about a sale on paper towels at the Grocery Mart. Taylor wanted to return to work as an artist, begin painting again and making her way around the local art scene. Yet none of that seemed possible anymore. Taylor felt like it had been stolen from her, that she had been violated in both body and spirit. It was her own hands manipulating her body, and yet it wasn’t.
“Things are different,” she said, turning the water off and reaching for a towel. “And I don’t feel good about the changes.”
***
Ravna awoke, unsure of the time of day or where he was. His mind, while working and chugging through the night, was becoming increasingly disoriented within his damaged body. He floated in and out of reality, and thought that a slip through a Portal might be in his near future, or maybe had already occurred, or maybe had occurred many times in the past. Ravna was losing his grip on the false realities of this world, and he knew his current state was not sustainable.
Therefore, when he opened his eyes to see Molly at the foot of his bed, the projector inside his head took him back to the park, to the first time he had seen her.
The rain continued to pummel him, and the light had not changed. Ravna surmised that he had been out for a matter of minutes, not hours. He stood on wobbly legs and saw that the door to the cabin stood open.
He walked toward it when he heard sobbing coming from behind the structure. He stumbled toward the noise, using the trees for support, and turned the corner to see the woman sitting on the ground, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, arms wrapped around her legs. She sat naked, shivering, and covered in grime.
Ravna removed his coat and draped it over her. She looked up at him with what he recognized as the “thousand-yard stare” from all of the war movies he watched on Saturday afternoons.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
The woman shook her head and mumbled something about a nightmare.
“Where is Drew?” he asked.
The name struck her like a lead weight. Her body stiffened, and she grabbed Ravna’s shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh. “Fighting the demon, the blue beast. They are both in my nightmare, but not in West Palm Beach.”
Ravna turned his head sideways, trying to decipher the words of the woman, who was clearly in shock. Before he could question her further, her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed. He slid his arms underneath her and carried her away from the cabin. Ravna found a fallen tree and set her down behind it, pulling his jacket over as much of her as he could. The rain began to turn into snow. He looked at her again, knowing the elements would trigger hypothermia and take her life. Even the best gear would stave off death only temporarily, and this woman was naked except for his jacket.
The frame jumped forward several weeks. Ravna saw himself at a table with Molly, she wiping her face with the napkin to hide the tears and he explaining as much as he could. That was the last time he saw her, although they had spoken a few times on the phone as Molly prepared to move the kids to Florida. She had become tired of his Florida jokes even though she realized they were made to lighten the vibe. Ravna made a few calls himself, arranging a rental truck for some of the family’s more delicate possessions. They never really discussed Drew after what happened in the cabin. To the best of his knowledge, Molly had never visited him in the hospital, had never called or sent a card, either. Ravna could understand why. The human sitting in the sterile, white room was not her husband. He was not the father of her children. His flesh no longer belonged to him, and though Ravna had seen remnants of Drew at the abandoned house in Pine Valley, he knew the man was gone, as well. Ravna surmised that Molly had to do what was in the best interest of the children. She protected them from the emotional wounds as best she could, and would have to wait for the day, if it ever arrived, when an explanation would be in order. Until then, she would try to move on with her life and do the best she could with what it had handed her.
When Drew escaped from the facility, Molly had gone on full alert. The local police department had put an unmarked car on her block. Molly had been a ball of nerves from the time the kids left home until they returned from school. Ravna had tried calling, but Molly had changed her number and had not given it to him, which he considered to be a deliberate attempt at keeping the emotional scabs in place. As the weeks passed and Drew did not resurface, Ravna had gone on with his life knowing it
wouldn’t be so easy for Molly. He imagined her huddled around the nightly news, wondering where Drew had gone and if the demon was still inside him, controlling him, manipulating him.
Molly sniffled and rubbed her nose. The noise brought Ravna from his dream-like state and back into the moment. If he wasn’t before, Ravna was now certain that it was Molly at his bedside. His brain put the pieces together, and he realized why she was here.
I’m sorry, he said, not bothering to ask if he could put the conversation inside her head.
Molly shook and closed her eyes. “Thank you.”
I wish I could have saved him.
“You did all you could. You and I both know that it wasn’t him, anyways.”
They made you ID the body?
“I thought I’d feel more than I did. I lost him in the cabin, and I’ve done my grieving. This, this was more like paperwork.” The tears streaming down her face did little to support her words.
Gaki. He was still using Drew’s body. I tried to stop it. I tried to bring it to an end.
“You did what you could. Nobody is blaming you for anything.”
I can’t understand how our bodies survived for as long as they did. Mine has lasted longer, obviously, because I think Mashoka is helping me hold on until the next Hunter has what he needs, which ain’t much. But we should have all died in the explosion. That would have ended it.
Molly walked over and placed her hand over Ravna’s. She stooped down so that her eyes were level with his. “This town, this place.”
I know. I feel it, too.
“Your Hunter. Can he . . . ?” Molly let the question trail off.
I don’t know. But if nobody attempts to fight the demon, well . . .
“I never told you what things were like for me after the event, the things that were happening inside my head.”
You don’t have to.
“I think I do. You see, I could feel its presence. We moved thousands of miles away, yet I would be sitting on the chair reading at night and I would feel Gaki behind me. The anxiety, the worry, the pain. I reached a point where I considered checking out and simply not dealing with the bullshit, but then I thought of my children.”
There is something with the blood. You know this, right? There are no guarantees.
“I know. Don’t think I’m not staring into the face of my children every day, looking for signs. Every. Fucking. Day.”
I’m sorry.
“Don’t be. You didn’t bring it here. Shit, it may have always been here. I’m not claiming innocence, Ravna. I did some things I’m not proud of, and I can’t blame it all on a hungry ghost. But I’ve had enough of running, avoiding, denial. That thing, that power, it’s gotta be destroyed. It can’t stay here.”
Forces are aligning. A confrontation is imminent.
“Stop talking like a Trekkie.”
Ravna tried to laugh, but the tubes in his face prevented it. Molly laughed enough for the both of them.
“You gave me a second chance, and I will always be appreciative of that. But on some level, you have a responsibility to rid the world of this beast.”
It’s greed, lust, desire. There is nothing I can do about that.
“True, but it doesn’t have to be so extreme. Weren’t you all into that Zen Buddhist shit? Avoiding the extremes, walking the middle way?”
There are other powers, other energies involved.
“You can only do what you can do,” Molly replied.
Do what you need to do here and leave. Today if you can.
“But I don’t even know where to begin. We’re in Virginia, in case you haven’t noticed, and I don’t know a single person here. How am I supposed to deal with funeral arrangements, and—”
Molly. Listen to me. Leave now. You can call the hospital from the airport and make whatever arrangements are necessary, but you need to leave now.
She turned her head sideways and stood up. “What do you know, Ravna?”
Gaki. He’s already recruited bodies, and I think he has found a way to possess them, many, at one time.
“An army?”
Of sorts. There is a place here that feels like the gateway to another plane where Gaki summons his energy. That Portal must be destroyed before any more evil comes through it. There is no guarantee it will corral the malevolence already here, but it will plug the gap.
“Can’t I help?”
No. You’ve been scarred, and the demons will exploit that. Leave today, Molly. Do it for Drew and do it for your kids.
She walked to the door and turned to face Ravna for the last time. “When?”
Very soon. Leave now.
“Thank you,” Molly said, her curiosity satisfied. “And good luck.” She walked out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
Chapter 11
Officer Peter Jones walked out of Jasper’s office and started down the trail as he had been instructed. He came to the fork and took a left when the voice that had been coming from the dead phone now reverberated inside his skull.
A change. I no longer need you here. Things are accelerating.
“What exactly do you need?”
To protect and to serve.
Peter smiled at the comment and then shook his head as if to dislodge the voice from inside. “Protect and serve what?”
The urges. The hunger. The gaki.
Peter stood in the middle of the trail, waiting to hear more.
Our power and influence grows, and at the same time, others will try to sabotage our efforts. They will try to extinguish the most basic of human emotions, and this cannot happen.
Jones felt the eternal struggle within his own chest. He wanted to be home or, better yet, retired from the force. He bristled, realizing he wouldn’t be able to ride out a decade of traffic tickets and Memorial Day parades as the older officers had. “What do you want from me?”
Gaki sighed, feeling the man’s spirit wavering. The house on the ridge.
“Williams’ Place?”
Yes. I need you to secure it.
“From what? Nobody in this town dares go near it.”
Others are coming and they are intent on destroying it, on breaking the law. I’m only asking you to do your sworn duty.
Peter thought about it, and the more he listened, the more sense it made. “Vandals?”
Yes. They cannot be permitted to deface the property.
Officer Peter Jones stood tall and straightened the collar on his blue shirt. He used the back of his forearm to put a quick shine on his badge. The observations he had made minutes ago, Frank and the creatures, conveniently slipped out of his memory. “I’ll call it in.”
NO! The word came through the center of Peter’s head like a hot knife. This is your scene, and yours only.
“But calling for backup is standard operating procedure.”
There is nothing standard about what is going to happen. Make sure your weapon is loaded and that you have more ammunition than you think you will need. The vandals will stop at nothing to destroy the property.
“Not on my shift, they won’t.”
Exactly. I knew I could count on you for the most important of matters.
“When?”
Go there now. The criminals are organizing, but it won’t take long for them to begin their assault. I will be sending others to help you.
“The aliens with Frank? Those things?”
My followers, those I have turned. They will know of your role, but they can still be somewhat unpredictable. Hold your post and do your duty, and you will be rewarded. Do not let them break the containing line, Officer Jones.
“I will not, sir,” Peter said as he turned from the trail and walked back to the car with a determined smile on his face. Things were clear now. He understood what he needed to do, what he had always done.
He would protect and serve.
***
The day leaned into night, and what little action had taken place inside the station withered away to no
thing but a random burst of static from the radio. Sage thought she had seen two or three other officers come in and out, but she could not be certain. The officer who had arrested her returned later in the day with a tray of food heated up in a microwave. Sage pushed the ice-cold lump of potatoes around the steaming pile of Salisbury steak but could not put either in her mouth.
Tonight.
She sat up on the cot and looked around, realizing at the same time where the word had come from and why. Sage passed the rest of the evening with her hands behind her head. She stared at the water stains on the ceiling and watched the sunlight crawl down the wall to the floor, where it would disappear until the morning.
“Officer Genry will be working the graveyard shift. He’s at the dispatch desk if you need anything.”
Sage looked up at the Virginia State Patrol man at the cell door and shivered. She wondered how long he had stood there before speaking to her.
“I thought you was a crazy teenager when I picked you up. Turns our you’re a full-grown woman.”
She sighed and swung her legs to greet the floor while leaning over her knees. “When am I getting out of here?”
“We’re processing everything, but I reckon you’ll still get one night’s free stay at the luxurious State Police Station at 719.”
Sage forced a compliant smile to form on her face while her hands gripped the solid, steel bars. “So I’ll be out tomorrow?” she asked.
“One way or another. We don’t hold nobody here for more than twenty-four hours unless they’s so drunk that we hafta.”
Sage shook her head and was surprised that the officer had let his slangy drawl fly so loose with her. She expected him to be more formal, police-like.
“If you need anything during the night, anything at all, I can be here right quick. Only live but a mile down yonder.”
“I’ll be fine, Officer.”
The man touched a finger to his hat as he secured it on top of his head. He turned and walked opposite the dispatch desk. Sage heard a steel door shut and felt the air push through the cell. A moment later, the sound of tires on gravel gave way to more static from dispatch’s radio.
