by David Wood
The greatest pain, though, came from his back. The knobs of flesh growing there burned as if a flaming tree fell across him, each one a bright spot of pain. He tried to reach behind him to grab the knobs and tear them off, but his arms wouldn't reach, so he turned his face toward the cave ceiling and howled until the lining of his throat burst and his cry became a gargle of blood. Seconds went by like hours, each beat of his heart sending vibrations into the stone beneath him. The pain increased until it nearly undid him, but with a large burst of flesh it ended, and in the sickly light he unfurled a broad expanse of grisly wings. As they spread from his shoulders he knew his rebirth was complete.
His god had forged him, remade him as a reward for his diligent service and faith. His ascension was at hand, and his reign as the demon prince of the world was about to begin.
Chapter 19
Kyle and Maya had just stepped out of the Jeep when the sound of breaking glass and voices raised in anger shattered the still night. As they rounded the corner of The Basement they saw half a dozen cheering people standing in a loose circle in front of one of the bar's large windows, now broken into a million glittering pieces and scattered across the handicapped parking slots. Two figures rolled across the glass shards, their legs kicking and their fists swinging wildly, and the crowd looked down with manic smiles as they roared their approval.
“I'm gonna kill you, ya son of a bitch!” one of the men on the ground said. He wore leather pants and a leather jacket with a stylized falcon stitched on its back. Kyle didn't recognize the voice, and blood seeping from multiple cuts on the man's face and forehead made recognizing him impossible.
The man he pummeled was dressed in a shabby blue suit, torn and wet from both rain and blood. He looked older than Kyle's dad and terribly out of shape, but the desperation of his situation gave his kicks and punches extra viciousness. Streaks of red around his mouth and on his hands made Kyle think back to the night before, when he'd seen the same guy sitting by himself enjoying a rack of messy barbeque ribs.
“You ain't killin' shit, asshole,” the man in the torn suit said as he rammed his dark loafer into his opponent's crotch. “And I wasn't looking at your woman, but once I'm done with you I'm gonna fuck her in her ass and make you watch.”
“Don't let him talk that way to me, baby!” a woman cried. She was one of the throng urging the fight on. Despite her words, the smile on her face said a good ass fucking would be right up her alley. She was dressed in leather similar to the man fighting for her honor, and another memory of the night before rolled through Kyle's mind. The same couple had been in the bar, eating at a table several feet from Mr. Ribs. Apparently dinner at The Basement was a regular event, but tonight things had gotten out of hand. Kyle hoped it was an isolated incident.
Taking Maya's hand, he ducked at the corner of the bar and whispered, “Keep your head down and follow close.”
Maya tore her eyes away from the fight with a struggle, then looked at him and nodded.
Keeping low, they scurried from the dark corner of the bar to a big Dodge diesel pickup, moved from there to an old Mercury sedan that looked to be held together by religious bumper stickers – LIFE IS A GIFT, NOT A CHOICE and IN CASE OF RAPTURE, VEHICLE WILL BE UNMANNED just two examples. The road crossed in front of them like a black river, the asphalt gleaming wetly under the streetlights arching over it in lonely islands of light.
After giving her hand another squeeze, they scurried from the parking lot and crossed onto the highway. They were halfway into the far lane when a squeal of tires stopped them in their tracks. Kyle looked to his left and saw a truck speeding around a corner toward them from the direction of town. Between its speed and the wet road, the car didn't have a hope in hell of making the turn, and it crashed into a streetlamp with a chunky metal thud. More broken glass spilled into the night, and the light flickered out. Several seconds later the driver got out of the truck and staggered around it, presumably looking at the damage. After doing a shambling circuit, the driver reached into the truck and pulled something out. Without the streetlight to illuminate the situation Kyle couldn't tell what was going on, but the point was moot when the driver shouted, “You stupid piece of shit!” and unloaded a shotgun blast into the truck's grill. Steam burst into the air from the ruined radiator. The driver pumped the shotgun, shifted to the right, and blasted a load of buckshot into the truck's tire, which burst like a watermelon being sledgehammered.
“This town has lost it,” Maya said, stating the obvious. “If we don't get out of here soon we'll lose it too. That dark thing is closer to waking up, and I can feel its mind reaching out for all of us.”
The desire to get out of Stillwater back when he'd graduated had been huge, but that was nothing compared to what Kyle felt now. His hometown had always felt like it sat balanced on the rim of a vast toilet bowl, ready to fall into the shit at any moment. He'd figured that, sooner or later, it would slide over the edge, and when it happened it would be bad, but he'd never imagined it would be this bad. Then again, he'd never considered the possibility that Stillwater's demise would come from the rising of an ancient evil buried deep in the mountains around it. Somehow that idea had never struck him.
“Yeah, come on.” He waved her on.
Once they were across the street, Kyle scurried to the far corner of the motel and ducked into a patch of shadows that looked out over the parking lot. There were half a dozen cars parked before various rooms, Maya's red Honda among them. He scanned each one, looking for people seated inside, but from where he stood they all looked empty. He also couldn't see any sort of colored lights or decals that would indicate a government vehicle.
“See anything?” Maya asked.
Kyle shifted his eyes around, checking motel windows, the roof, shadows around the edge of the building, and the area behind the far side of the motel before shaking his head. “No, it looks clear.”
“I guess the police have other things to worry about.” She gestured toward the crashed truck and bar fight.
Kyle shrugged. “I don't think they give a shit. After the way they came after me, they're probably as crazy as the rest of this shithole.” He reached into his pocket and felt the metal of Maya's key ring bite into his hand reassuringly. “Come on, let's do this.”
Maya's room was near the middle of the U-shaped motel, but he didn't want to cross the openness of the parking lot, so Kyle skirted the edge of the building and walked them down the inside of the eastern edge. The motel didn't have many lodgers, so most of the rooms were dark and silent, but a few here and there lit up. The sounds that came from them were disturbing. Normally he’d have seen it as his duty to investigate, but not here, and certainly not now. So long as the noises stayed behind closed doors, he was fine leaving them there.
A scream erupted behind the door two feet in front of them, Room 106, and Kyle barely had time for his blood to chill at the terrible sound of it before the door flew open. It hit the wall next to it so hard it shattered the window. Kyle raised his hands and jumped backward. Maya yelped and stumbled back too, then screamed and pointed at the parking space in front of the room. Kyle followed her gesture and saw a woman lying on the ground, half-naked and beaten to a pulp. Blood ran from her face in thick red streams, and she scarcely had the strength to turn her head so she didn't drown in the rain.
“You lying fucking whore,” a man said as he walked out of the room. He wore brown and white striped boxers, and nothing else. Blood spattered his pale chest and stubbly face. He rubbed at his bruised knuckles.
“Please, Bobby,” the woman on the ground said, her voice barely louder than the rain beating down on her. Her red panties and yellow bra looked almost as rough as she did. “I didn't mess around on you, I swear.”
Bobby stormed forward and kicked her in the side like a punter going for a field goal from fifty yards out. The woman on the ground tried to roll away, but that only exposed more of her back, and Bobby's bare foot hit her with enough force to send her tum
bling further into the parking lot. She screamed and reached for her side reflexively when she came to a stop.
“I didn't, Bobby!” she cried into the storm. “I didn't, I swear!”
Bobby was having none of it. He stomped over to the woman, grabbed her by her mop of blonde hair, and hoisted her to her feet. The sheer unrelenting violence of the moment transfixed Kyle, locked him in place, but when the woman screamed again and beat at Bobby's fist as it clutched her hair the spell broke, and Kyle ran to stop what was happening before it could go any further.
“I’m gonna beat your lying ass straight to hell.” Bobby drew the woman close and balled up his fist. “And then I'm gonna go do the same to that sonuvabitch you been fuckin' behind my back.”
“Let her go, man.” Kyle drew close.
Bobby kept his grip on the woman. “This ain't none of your concern, asshole. Not unless she's fuckin' you too.” He gave the woman's head a savage shake. “Is that so? Huh? You fuckin' him too?”
The woman opened her mouth, but no words came out, and her eyes rolled up. The sight of it broke Kyle's heart. In her he saw his mother, back when she was good and loving; he saw Taylor and everything she'd had to go through without him; and he saw Maya, alone in a dark and uncaring place. It broke his heart, and he swore to himself he wasn't going to let anyone else get hurt, not while he could do something about it.
“I said let her go,” he told the man, reaching around to grab the .40 caliber tucked in his jeans. “I'm not going to say it again.” He flicked off the safety and let the metallic click emphasize his point.
Bobby snarled. “You want this bitch?” he asked, shaking the woman's head by her hair again. “Then fuckin' have her.”
Kyle didn’t understand what Bobby meant until the man heaved his arms and flung the woman at him with a savage pull of her hair. The woman didn't scream, even as handfuls of her hair ripped out, and she tumbled toward Kyle like a sack of broken sticks. Kyle reached out with his left arm to grab her as she fell against him, and Bobby's eyes lit up when Kyle stumbled under the sudden weight and impact. Kyle fell to one knee, the woman's bloody body a dead weight against him, and Bobby rushed toward them with both fists raised and ready to deliver more pain. The tactic would have worked against most people, but Kyle – even though he spent most of his time going over supply lists and shelves of gear – had been trained for combat, so even with the woman pressed against his left side he was able to keep his gun arm free and his head clear. The rain seemed to stop for a moment as he lined up his shot and fired, each drop hanging motionless in the air. When the gun barked, it was one more peal of thunder in the storm. A ragged hole appeared in Bobby's left chest where the pectoral muscle met the shoulder. It spun him around, and then he fell, just as Kyle had hoped he would. But, Bobby had just hit the ground when he threw his head back and yelled like a berserker at the clouds overhead, then thrust himself up and came toward Kyle again. Another shot rocked the night, this one hitting Bobby in the meat of his right thigh. Bobby hit the ground again, this time with a thud as his legs swept out from under him.
“I'm gonna kill you.” Spit flew through Bobby’s clenched teeth. “I'm gonna break your head open and fuck yer skull, gonna fuck your brains and shit on 'em.”
Bobby jumped to his feet, wobbly but powered by something beyond the flesh, and stomped forward again. His pale skin had an ashy pallor Kyle recognized.
“Make this stop!” Maya shouted, her voice ragged. Kyle couldn't see her, but he could imagine her face streaked with tears and her mouth twisted up in fear and panic. His heart broke all over again. “Just make it stop, please.”
Knowing he had little choice, Kyle took aim one last time and pulled the trigger. When Bobby hit the ground, this time it was with a hole in the center of his chest and blood pumping out of it in a thick syrup that soon slowed to a trickle. He didn't get back up again.
“Are you okay?” Kyle asked the woman he held in his left arm. When she didn't answer, he gave her a slight shake and put his mouth close to her ear. “Hey, it's okay. He won't hurt you anymore.”
When she still didn't say anything, he bent over and lowered his arm until she lay on the ground. Her eyes were open, but they were motionless and unblinking, even when rain drops splashed against them. He knew what he'd find when he reached to take her pulse, but knew he had to do it anyway.
“Is she alright?” Maya asked, stepping close and bending over his shoulder.
Kyle shook his head, then reached down and closed the woman's eyes. “She's dead.”
“Oh my God.” Maya had to grab his shoulder to stop herself from falling over, and the tears that fell on his skin were warm, unlike the cold, unceasing rain. “This is terrible, Kyle. So terrible. What... What are we going to do?”
Despite the rain that tumbled down on them, Kyle had never seen more clearly in his life. The dead man and woman before him had cleared up any reservations or confusion he’d felt before. In their emptiness he found his resolve.
“We're getting the fuck out of here as fast as we can, that's what, and we are never looking back.”
He took Maya’s hand from his shoulder, gave it a kiss, and pulled her toward her waiting car. The gun was still in his hand, its weight reassuring in the storm, and he vowed to use it as many times as he had to in order to get them all to safety, no matter who stood against them. When they reached her car, he unlocked the passenger door, and as she got in he walked around the back his eyes looking for anyone who might come toward them. No one appeared in the wet darkness, and he reached to unlock his own door, but Maya had already pulled the knob up, so he opened the door and settled into the driver's seat.
After days of driving the Jeep and months riding in supply trucks, the little Honda felt like a go-cart, but within seconds he had the engine revving and the wipers at max speed. Once they were both buckled in, he stuck the gun between his right leg and the center console, then backed out of the parking space. When they crossed the highway he saw that the crashed truck and its driver were still going at it, but he must have run out of ammo because he had taken to beating the vehicle with the shotgun like a bat.
The fight was still going on in The Basement’s parking lot, but now everyone was involved. In the stark light of the bar's exterior signs the mass fight looked like a single gray beast made up of many arms and legs and mouths, all of them reaching into the center mass to do as much harm as possible. Kyle recognized their waitress in the mix, and the bikers and rib eater were still in it, but most of the rest were a blur of ashen, angry flesh. He stayed as far from them as he could while he drove to the damaged Jeep. When he pulled in next to it, Taylor slipped out of it and dove into the Honda's waiting backseat.
“Man, it's getting crazy out there,” his little sister said.
Maya grunted and stared straight ahead. “You don't know the half of it.”
Taylor ran her hand through her wet hair, slicking it back and away from her face. “I bet. Did I hear gun shots?”
“Don't ask.” Kyle reached for the gearshift to put it in DRIVE, but before he could a familiar wave of nausea rolled over him. It was enough to make his stomach sour and his eyes ache, but other than that he was fine. Maya, though, vibrated in her seat. Her hands were vises on her armrests, and she grit her teeth so hard the cords in her neck jumped. He reached over to sooth her, give her some sort of help and comfort, but when he moved over he saw Taylor was jittery too, her fingers thrumming against her pants and her eyes fluttering.
A dark pit opened in Kyle's stomach, and he felt his world slipping into it, never to return as he watched the two women he cared about spasm in the grip of an evil he couldn't begin to understand or hope to stop. All he could do was wait.
Chapter 20
Maya inhaled sharply and sat up in the back of the jeep like a woman struggling to swim to the surface before she drowned. When she opened her eyes she recognized where she was, but it didn't feel real to her. Her brain struggled to wake up from the night
mare overwhelming her. It seemed like hours ago when the dark dreams crashed down, but from the darkness outside and the familiar lights of The Basement’s parking lot she could tell it had only been minutes, if that. She sat awake, in her car, but part of her remained in the nightmare, and she worried she'd never fully leave it again. She felt slimy, coated in blood and filth.
“I don't feel good.” Taylor groaned, smacked her lips, and rubbed at her arms like she was trying to brush herself clean.
“I know what you mean,” Maya replied.
“What happened?” Kyle asked. He looked at each of them like he feared they'd shatter at any moment. “Are you okay now?”
Maya shook her head. Deep down she knew a terrible truth, and keeping it hidden wouldn't help anyone, especially herself. “No, we're not. That thing in the mountain... It's changing us. Taylor might not drink much of the water, but she still lives here, and the proximity has infected her with it anyway, just more gradually. My psychic sensitivity is connecting me to it too. The longer we stay here, the more it'll get inside us, transform us into what the rest of the town is becoming. We have to go, Kyle. Now.”
Kyle stared deep into her eyes, and she felt his thoughts reaching out to her, so warm and soft compared to the dreams of the dark god. His entire world sat in the backseat of her car, and his desire to protect them was fierce.
“Okay then. Let's get the fuck out of here.”
He turned and reached for the gearshift, but Taylor cried out and grabbed his shoulder.
“Wait! You said we'd go get Morgana!”
Kyle shrugged her off and shook his head. “Sorry, Piglet, but things have changed.”
