The Festering Ones

by S H Cooper

  I held on, bawling for the girl I’d killed twice over, until Janice pried me away and Sasha crawled forward to cradle her sister’s withered body.

  The Arrival

  My hands slipped from Janice’s grasp, slick with black, and she frantically wiped them on her jeans with a panicked squeal.

  “What is that?” she cried.

  I didn’t answer, but staggered back, suddenly feeling too heavy for my legs to hold up. Sasha’s grief-stricken sobs drove like spikes into my head. I fell heavily against my car, then slid to the ground, burying my face in my arms.

  I thought having to hear Sasha’s pain, so raw and helpless as she bent over Nina’s body, would be the worst. When she got quiet, however, it dug beneath my skin in a different way entirely. She stared straight ahead, off into the night that had taken hold, oblivious to the stains that had seeped through her clothing. The expression hard-cut into her face captured the storm that had opened up inside of her, twisting her features. Her fingers continued to stroke Nina’s hair, an empty attempt to comfort both of them, although both were beyond it. I felt it when she turned to me: the surge of lightning and thunder where her love used to be.

  “Who did this?” she demanded.

  “I —” I faltered beneath the weight of her gaze. I’d looked upon Gorrorum in my dreams, seen T’svotil firsthand, but neither felt as real or as dangerous as Sasha did in that moment.

  “It must have been the cop,” Janice offered dismally. “You said he shot himself, right, Faith? And that,” she pointed to her own forehead, unknowingly reminiscent of Nina herself, “it’s a bullet hole, isn’t it? Maybe he killed her first.”

  It was a good theory, an easy one, even if it was incorrect, and I nodded mutely along with it. They didn’t need to know the truth. Cowardice fueled my agreement, but it also wouldn’t have helped any of us to tell them what really happened.

  Sasha laid a hand over her sister’s wound. “You’re sure no one else was here?”

  “Those two were the only ones I came across,” I affirmed softly, gesturing toward the bodies tangled on the ground. The lie was bitter in my mouth. I had to get up, move around, try to shake some of the shame off. I paced along the length of my car, hands clasped behind my neck.

  “None of this makes sense,” Sasha said to no one in particular. “What happened here? What was that thing?”

  She continued venting her angry questions, not expecting an answer. I might have offered one when she took a breath, but my attention was pulled to Sasha’s windshield. Officer Andrew and his unfortunate wife were visible over my shoulder in the glass, ghostly, incomplete reflections. An unrealized creature, first something like a rabbit and then something reminiscent of a bird-lizard hybrid, never solid or settled, appeared beside them. It sniffed around, pawing at the ground, and then at the Andrew’s open head.

  More shapeless scuttled from the shadows to join the first. They surrounded the couple, quivering and tossing their morphing heads, and then they dove upon them, ravenously tearing into their flesh.

  I watched them impassively, too worn through to react. I already knew that if I were to turn, the bodies would just be lying there, undisturbed. It was only their reflection, the idea of them, that was being so heartily consumed. It might as well have been something out of a movie.

  And then one stopped, all of the fur and feathers along its back rising. Its ears, while it had them, pinned back against its skull, and it turned tail and ran back out of view. The others were quick to follow, fear driving them from their prey.

  Only one being I’d encountered so far emitted a presence that could be felt across realms.

  It was a harsh reminder of why we’d come.

  “Josie is almost here,” I said with cold certainty. “We need to hide the cars and kill the lights.”

  “How do you know? Did you hear something?” Janice asked, anxiously scanning the street.

  “Yeah,” I lied. “Come on, quick!”

  Sasha acted deaf to our pleas to move and just shook her head, staring at Nina’s ruined face and muttering her fury. While Janice tried to reason with her, I moved my rental a few buildings down into an alley, where it was out of sight of the main street. By the time I got back to the others, Janice had Sasha by the shoulders and their faces were inches apart.

  “...your ass and get your car off the road,” Janice gave Sasha a warning shake. “You’re not getting my son killed!”

  “Hey!” I pried them apart and held Janice back at arm’s length.

  “She won’t move!” Janice was on the verge of shouting.

  “Sasha, please,” I said over Janice, and was glad when she took the hint and screwed her mouth shut into a scowl.

  Sasha ran her knuckles gently down Nina’s sunken cheek.

  “Just give me your keys. At least let me turn the headlights off.”

  “Nina deserved better,” she whispered. “She was going to be a vet someday. What happened? What the fuck happened?”

  “I —”

  “Your sister is dead,” Janice broke her brief silence. “Ben isn’t, and I’m going to keep it that way if I have to step over your fucking corpse to do it!”

  Sasha blinked slowly, and large tears slid down her cheeks. She released Nina long enough to drag her keys from her pocket and toss them weakly to me. I caught them against my chest and fumbled for the car key as I strode for her vehicle. With nowhere to direct her rage, the tide of grief rose again and Sasha huddled over Nina, weeping. Janice hung back, fists clenched at her sides. Maybe she’d feel sorry for her biting words later, but there was no sign of apology in her tense stance then.

  I moved Sasha’s car to the same alley with mine and used the flashlight on my phone to navigate my way back.

  There was nothing to be said while we waited. No soothing words to offer a woman mourning her sister. No trite phrases to ease the nerves of a mother separated from her child. Sasha muffled her cries against the top of Nina’s head while Janice and I kept watch on the road.

  Even after the sun had long since set, the humidity remained, draped over us like a damp blanket pulled out halfway through a dryer cycle. My clothes hung heavily against sticky skin and no matter how much I tugged, they just found some other place to cling. It was hard to tell if Janice’s fidgeting came from similar discomfort or the anxiousness of a long-teased dog about to break free of its leash.

  When the distant rumble of an approaching engine reached us, however, we both became still. High beams pierced the dark of the intersection, followed by a slow-moving car, as if the driver was searching for something. Although we were well out of the headlight’s path, Janice and I dropped into crouches.

  “That has to be them,” she said. “But where are they going?”

  “No idea.”

  Janice was off without any more speculation, sneaking after the car in a stooped jog. A glance back at Sasha showed her in the same mournful pose as before, oblivious to Josie’s arrival. I wished briefly that there was something I could say, some shred of sympathy that would mean something, but I doubted she’d even hear me. I left her to dwell with death and chased after Janice.

  The car continued its snail pace passed two more side streets, unaware it was being tailed. Janice and I stayed low, stalking from a few yards back, careful to remain out of the red pools cast by the tail lights. It rolled to a stop at the end of the street when it could no longer continue straight, idled in indecision, and then turned a hesitant left. We ducked behind the corner building, a feeble structure missing most of its roof, and peeked around its edge.

  Brakes squeaked and the driver side door opened. A short, overweight figure slid from the seat and stood with one foot lowered on to the ground while she looked ahead. From inside the car, a child’s sleepy voice asked, “Gramma? Where are we?”

  “We’re here,” Josie said.

  The distance between us didn’t diminish the wicked elation in her voice.

  I could feel Janice trembling and I
grabbed her wrist to keep her in place. We still had the element of surprise on our side. If we gave that up, we could be putting Ben in danger. I tried to convey all of that with a squeeze, but the way she pulled her arm from my grip and her withering glare told me that, even if she understood, she didn’t care.

  Her son was within reach, and the time for carefully laid plans had gone, trampled by the mother bear.

  Josie ducked back into the car and murmured something too softly for me to catch. Ben whined in response.

  “I don’t wanna! It’s scary!”

  “Come on,” Josie encouraged sweetly as she hopped back out, a large purse now hanging around her neck. She opened the back driver’s side door. “Just take a little walk with Gramma!”

  As Josie bent to unbuckle Ben, I noticed the cross topping the building in front of her, outlined in silver moonlight.

  “A church?” I whispered, baffled. It seemed an odd destination for a follower of the Festering Father.

  “Mom!”

  Too late, I realized Janice was moving, sprinting down the street toward her mother and son. With a single word, she’d given us away. I grit my teeth, ruefully abandoning any kind of strategy, and gave chase.

  Josie looked hurriedly over her shoulder before grabbing Ben up and hauling him in an uneven gallop toward the church doors. The still-running car’s high beams lit her awkward dash like stage lights on a performer.

  “Mama!” Ben cried happily, stretching his hands towards Janice. “Gramma, it’s Mama!”

  The church doors scraped unwillingly across the floor when Josie threw herself, shoulder-first, against them. She wriggled through the narrow opening she’d created, dragging the protesting boy along with her.

  “No!” he yelled. “I don’t wanna go in there! It’s scary! Gramma, it’s smelly! Mama!”

  Janice slammed into the doors seconds later, forcing them further apart, and we shoved our way inside. I lifted my phone to ward off the shadows and swung it in an arc, trying to get the lay of the unfamiliar land. Pieces of rotted pews were scattered around the large room alongside remnants of torn Bibles and broken glass from the windows. Every surface was marked with graffiti, dark symbols and a language I didn’t recognize. The stench of mold and mildew was smothering.

  At the front of the room stood a raised platform with the splintered remains of a podium, and upon it, Josie and Ben. She kept an arm curled across his chest, pinning him to her side while he squirmed. Her other hand was hidden within her purse.

  “I’m glad you’re here, Janice,” Josie said, panting from exertion. Or, perhaps, exhilaration. “Now you’ll be able to see!”

  “Let Ben go, Mom.” Janice walked forward, her pace agonizingly controlled.

  Josie licked her lips, manic, glittering gaze following Janice. With her attention so focused on her daughter, I eased to the right in tiny steps, hoping to flank her.

  “I’ve wanted to share this with you for so long! But I couldn’t tell you. No, no, His glory isn’t something you can just explain. It must be shown! And where better than here? Where they betrayed him and brought forth the deceiver. We must undo their betrayal!”

  “You can show me,” Janice said agreeably. She held her hands up, palms out, fingers splayed. “Just let me make sure Ben is ok.”

  “I wanna go to Mama!” Ben struggled, but Josie’s hold tightened, a spider’s clasp around the fly.

  “No, baby, no,” Josie crooned. “Are you scared, Benny?”

  “Mom.” Warning was slipping in to Janice’s voice.

  “Lemme go, Gramma!”

  I made it to the edge of the platform and looked to Janice, waiting for her to make some kind of move before I did.

  “We’ll both be going soon.” Josie’s accompanying giggle was high pitched and erratic.

  “Give me my son!”

  Janice sprang forward, but Josie yanked Ben away and whipped her hand out of her purse. The blade of the large knife clenched in her fist glinted in my phone’s light as she brandished it, forcing her daughter to retreat. Janice rocked on her heels, torn between her desire to charge again and the fear that doing so would harm Ben, who screamed until Josie covered his mouth roughly, her grandmotherly touch gone.

  “No, no!” Josie’s chest heaved and her lips curled back into a taut, maddened grin. “You have to see, and then you’ll know. Just like I saw and knew. You’ll understand why I’ve done this. Once you’ve witnessed His power —”

  “You were there that night.” The revelation came like a hard punch to the chest, knocking the words from me. “You watched your sister die.”

  Josie swung the knife toward me, ensuring I hadn’t gotten any closer, and then pointed it back at Janice, who prowled back and forth at the foot of the platform. Ben began to cry, pulling futilely at Josie’s arm. “It should have been me! But Delilah, little, sweet, scared Delilah.” She spat out the long-dead girl’s name with decades’ worth of contempt. “I wanted to go. I begged! But Sister Pratt said the Father craved Delilah’s fear. It wasn’t my place. Not yet. No, I was meant to spread His word while she got to become one with him. It wasn’t fair! I got so close, but I could only watch, then sneak back home and pretend. Pretend, pretend, pretend! But now it’s my turn.”

  “You’re fucking sick,” I said, unsure if I was more angry or horrified at her admission.

  “Oh, you know I’m not.” She tittered, bulging eyes slipping towards me. “You know better than most what glory awaits us.”

  “What? Faith?” Confusion flickered in the shadows across Janice’s face, but then it vanished beneath a snarl. “Just let him go!”

  “Yes.” Josie’s expression relaxed into a serene smile. “It’s time.”

  She raised the knife, murmuring softly, rapidly, in a strange tongue.

  “No!” Janice scrambled to mount the platform and I leapt toward them.

  But we were too far.

  The knife swung down, tip aimed at Ben’s heart.

  Janice’s shriek was drowned out by the entryway exploding inward, rocking the entire building. Josie swayed, nearly losing her balance, and the blade jerked back as she tried to steady herself. Sharp ringing filled my ears and I stumbled a few steps, dazed.

  The crumpled hood of Josie’s car protruded through what was left of the church’s front wall. Behind the wheel, Sasha lifted her head with a grim, tear-stained scowl.

  Josie clawed at Ben, desperately trying to regain her grip on the wildly flailing boy, but he squealed and kicked and punched, using all the strength he possessed in his small body to resist her. She swiped haphazardly with the knife, narrowly missing him, then backhanded him. Ben reeled and collapsed on to his backside, wailing and clutching the side of his face where he’d been hit.

  “It has to be done right,” Josie hissed. “It —”

  A piece of pew cracked against the back of her skull. She staggered, her empty hand groping blindly at her head, but Josie never took her eyes off of Ben. Not even when Janice swung the wooden beam again and knocked her to her knees. Ben scooted backward, head thrown back, sobbing inconsolably, until I scooped him up and held him to my chest, blocking out the sight of his mother standing over his grandmother with the bloodied piece of wood.

  “No.” Josie was crawling on hands and knees after us, still stubbornly holding on to the knife.

  “Get Ben out of here,” Janice ordered. She hefted her makeshift club again.

  I hesitated, but only until our eyes met. I knew that look. That fire. It was the same that raged in me when I was hunting for the Daughters, but brighter, fiercer, ready to scorch the earth if it meant protecting her child. The kind that wouldn’t go out until the job was done. Josie grabbed weakly at Ben’s ankle and he screeched, locking his legs around me and almost choking me with his hold on my neck.

  “Go!” Janice stomped on her mother’s hand, finally causing the knife to clatter to the floor.

  I hugged Ben close, keeping his head buried against my shoulder, and jogged to
ward Sasha, who had climbed out of the car and was waiting to help carry Ben outside.

  Josie’s ragged calls to bring him back were cut short by the first of many heavy, meaty thuds.

  A Thousand Eyes

  We walked away from the church until we could no longer hear the sounds from within. Ben hung limply in my arms, his sobs reduced to exhausted, terrified mewls for his mama. Sasha took him from me and balanced him on her hip.

  “What happened here?” she asked, her pale face blank.

  I folded my arms over my chest to chase back the shiver that ran through me despite the heat. “A lot.”

  “How much did you know?”

  I shrugged and glanced at my feet.

  “I think we’re past the point of bullshitting, don’t you?” Sasha rubbed Ben’s back in slow, steady circles while he hiccuped into her neck. “You’ve known more than you’re letting on since the get go. You didn’t just stumble upon this place, you didn’t just…” She bit her lip until she was able to stem the fresh flow of tears that wanted to fall. “You didn’t just get that thing out of Nina with sheer willpower. So what the fuck do you know?”

  I shook my head, covered Ben’s ears, and answered in a low whisper. “I don’t want to get you any more involved than you already are. If I tell you, it opens you up to things that —”

  “My sister is dead because of this. I need to know why.” She wasn’t pleading with me. It was an order.

  I sighed reluctantly. “Did Janice tell you about the cult her mom was in?”

  “The Gathered. We tried looking them up with the clerk.”

  “They’re not crazy. The god they worship, he’s real. There’s a whole other world filled with monsters like him and, sometimes, they get into ours. One of them was inside of Nina and...the one the cult worships is kind of in me. In my head. His presence is what forced that thing out of her.” I opted to keep it brief, hoping that it might keep Sasha out of Gorrorum’s sight.