by Jeff Vrolyks
The entity’s right arm wound back slowly. From its shadowy arm a pair of fang-like phalanges unsheathed from the invisible sleeve and grew into knuckle-jointed sickle-shaped appendages. Its arm coiled back like a pitcher poised to throw a baseball. From the two fang tips pinpoints of yellow light volumized into raisin-sized liquid drops, glowing toxically.
Louis tried to scream. Only a gurgle squeaked past the death grip. One after the other, the lurid droplets fell from the fangs, hissing a vapor trail to the floor, their successors already pushing through.
Louis’s second to last thought was fretting standing judgment before God. His final thought regarded the baggie of cocaine in his pocket: he lamented that he had rationed it sparingly.
It swung its arm at Louis’s throat. The syringed fingertips pierced the soft flesh with a thud.
Seconds later Louis entered the kitchen and snatched the car keys from the table and left the house. He unlocked the driver’s door of the ’86 Dodge Caravan and got behind the wheel.
Chapter 22
Kloss and Jack were making their way toward the freeway when they heard a distant tortured engine approaching. They watched as the speeding van’s headlights took aim at the Hummer. Kloss held his breath and squinted at the moment of impact. A steel twisting, glass shattering explosion tore through the quiet night. A man ejected through the window of the van, slid across the pavement before rolling into a whirlwind of flaccid arms and legs. Kloss ran to the scene, understanding why he was instructed to turn on the Hummer headlights: so that the driver of the van would assume his target was behind the wheel.
His Hummer would soon be in a junkyard. The dead man would be unrecognizable to his own mother.
Jack continued down the freeway onramp. Kloss told him to wait up as he sprinted back from the wreck. He demanded from Jack an explanation. Jack was resolute. Kloss suggested they use the payphone at Gilligan’s Gas to call the cops. Jack walked on. He asked what this had to do with him and Holly. After a series of demands, Kloss relented and grudgingly continued beside Jack.
“This is bullshit. What was that accident about? We have to call the cops, Jack, this is a big deal.” Jack ignored him. “I know we aren’t going to walk twenty miles to Vacaville. Please tell me that isn’t what we’re doing.”
Jack whined.
They reached the bottom of the onramp and continued along the freeway shoulder. Jack stopped and faced the oncoming traffic, which was almost non-existent at this hour.
“What, are we hitchhiking now?”
Jack nodded.
“Who’s going to pick up a guy at three in the morning? With a wolf! I don’t see why we can’t call the cops. That guy is dead!”
Jack rolled onto his back. With extended legs he crossed his two front paws and his rear two paws, gazed at Kloss upside down; he lost his balance and tipped over.
Kloss exhaled loudly. “They’ll take you away, is that it? I guess they would. Fine, if you can somehow help… all I care about is Holly right now, so whatever’s best for her. I hope we’re on the same page with that, Jack.”
Jack woofed and wagged his tail.
Kloss thumbed cars and trucks passing by. As he expected, no one slowed. He lit a cigarette. Jack shook his head at him. Kloss puffed defiantly. Jack snorted.
“Deal with it.” Kloss watched Jack curiously. “Are you an angel or something? A guardian angel or a super intelligent psychic wolf or something?” Kloss muttered, “That has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever said.”
Jack agreed.
“This is beyond confounding. You understand how I feel, don’t you?” Jack nodded. “Is it too much to ask for you to let me in on what you know? I don’t see the harm in that. If something happened to her… God, I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t even imagine.”
Thirty minutes passed before an RV acknowledged his tired thumb. Jack hid behind Kloss as it pulled over. It was an unassuming RV, not the type you would find Grandpa Thickwallet and Grandma Fourowun Kay traveling cross-country in.
The side-door opened. Johnny Cash sang Folsom Prison Blues loudly. A large deep-south caricature descended the steps with a warm grin. He wore snake-skin boots and a cowboy hat. His Wranglers were damn near painted on. An oversized belt buckle read Pure Hillbilly Hell.
“Howdy, I’m Pea Willy. That there behind the wheel is my wife, Sue Ellen.”
“Hello!” she said from behind the wheel.
“I’m Kloss. You have no idea how much it means to me, you stopping.”
“I’ve been on the other end of that thumb, something we’ve all probably done once or twice. You have car trouble?”
“You could say that, yes.”
Jack came into Pea Willy’s view, wagging his tail and smiling disarmingly.
“I didn’t see you had a dog with you. Hello feller, what’s your name?” Jack licked his hand. “Never saw a dog with yellow eyes before. He’s a handsome thing.”
“That’s Jack, the world’s most intelligent dog. He’s well behaved, won’t pee on your floor or bother you in any way. We’re headed to Vacaville. However close you can get us would be great.”
“We’re headed to Frisco, driving right through Vacaville. We’ll get you where you need to be. Come on in guys, make yourself comfortable. I hope you like Johnny Cash. If you ride with us, you’re gonna have to put up with it.”
Kloss made his way to Sue Ellen and shook her hand. Jack offered the top of his head for her to pet. With too much energy for the hour, Pea Willy said, “Let’s get this sucker movin’, huh? To Vacaville, darlin’!”
Kloss sat at the table’s bench seat. Jack hopped onto the passenger seat to better watch the road. Sue Ellen smiled at him, occasionally reached over to pet him: Jack loved it. Pea Willy ambled to the rear, returned with an acoustic guitar. He sat on an ice chest and strummed along to a Johnny Cash song while singing. Kloss wondered if Pea Willy knew he was out of key. Way out of key.
“Early one morning while making the rounds… I took a shot of cocaine, and I shot my woman down. I went right home and I went to bed… I stuck that lovin’ forty-four beneath my head.”
Kloss found himself admiring Pea Willy. A simple cowboy with a life that Kloss would never relate to, other than his love for guitar and music. Kloss was content not to be recognized. It warmed him that these two treated him like a friend, with no expectations or wants. They wanted only to help a guy down on his luck because that’s what good people do. The good neighbor policy. Kloss wondered if he would do the same thing if the shoe were on the other foot, and was ashamed to think that he wouldn’t. He’d have passed by Pea Willy and Sue Ellen without a second thought. He vowed he would help someone next time the opportunity arose. Pay it forward.
Three more Johnny Cash songs played before Pea Willy put his guitar away and grabbed a coke from the ice chest. “Can I get you a coke or somethin’? A beer?”
“I’m good, thanks. We’re only a few exits away from my sister’s.”
“Is your sister expecting you at this hour?”
“Her phone’s cut off. That’s why I’m going there. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I can’t stop worrying.”
“That’s mighty fine of you, Kloss. Family comes first.”
“That’s right,” Sue Ellen agreed. “We’re headed to my sister Jackie’s house in Frisco after we drop you off. When family calls, nothing else matters, hun.”
“Amen,” said Pea Willy. “And if there’s anything else Sue Ellen and I can do for you, let us know.”
Sue Ellen asked which way to go once she exits Pear Blossom.
“Take a left when you get off and go straight for a while. I’ll let you know when to turn. Can I give you guys gas money? I feel bad wasting your time and gas like this.”
“Heck no,” Pea Willy said, as if the very idea was insulting. “It’s on our way, anyway.”
“Fog’s comin’ in,” Sue Ellen said.
Kloss glanced up front and saw a misty white wall, glaring white from the
headlights.
“It doesn’t get foggy here often, especially this time of year. That’s weird.”
“That ain’t fog,” Pea Willy said, nostrils flaring, “That’s fire.”
An image of a flaming telephone pole manifested in Kloss’s mind. His heart filled with dread.
Holly’s remote neighborhood was bridged to greater Vacaville by a solitary road. Kloss had long been bitter about there not being an alternate road leaving the hill, though until now it had nothing to do with safety reasons—repaving the road always meant long-assed waits. Now that he thought about it, it seemed negligible and maybe even criminal to not have an alternate route leading out of Cattlemen Ranch. He didn’t have a clue where the fire was but if it was near Manchester Road and consequently closed it off, well, he didn’t even want to flirt with that possibility. Holly would be stuck up there. And Ali. He had a horrible idea that the fire was in Cattlemen Ranch. Jack did spell Holly, after all. Kloss was convinced the fire was the reason why.
Sue Ellen exited at Pear Blossom. “Looks like it’s snowing.”
“Jack, is the fire by Holly’s house?”
Sue Ellen pulled over to the shoulder so a fire engine could pass. Pea Willy chuckled nervously. “You ask your dog about a fire?”
“Jack! Answer me, is Holly all right? Is the fire on the hill?”
Jack whimpered. That said it all, as far as Kloss was concerned. Suddenly it was too hot in this RV. He felt the weight of sweat on his brow. He needed a cigarette desperately.
“There it is,” Sue Ellen said excitedly, pointing at the wall of flames up on the hill.
Kloss was certain that the fire had closed off Manchester Road. “Shit, shit, shit.” His eyes teared up.
“Where do I turn? Looks like that road is closed off.”
“That’s her road.” Kloss’s voice cracked. “That’s the only road.”
“Your sister is up the hill?” Sue Ellen said grimly. “There isn’t an alternate road?”
“Please God let her be somewhere safe,” Kloss said inwardly, unaware that he said it aloud.
Pea Willy touched Kloss’s shoulder. “I’m sure your sister will be fine. Do you know where she’d go if she got out before it closed off? A relative or friend or something?”
“I’m her only living relative. I have no idea where she would go.” She may have taken the dirt bike or quad from the garage, Kloss theorized, and went down the trail that he and his buddies beat into the hillside. She did have some experience riding them. And though the dirt bike was without a headlight, the quad wasn’t. And since it seated two, it was a strong possibility.
“Where am I going, hun?”
“The next left is Belmont. Take that.”
“You got it. She’ll be fine, sweetheart. There are plenty of firefighters and police around. They’re probably evacuating people as we speak.”
But they were not. They could not. Not with Manchester Road inaccessible. Without the visibility required to send choppers in, extinguishing the fire was all they could do. This would prove to be a hot topic for journalists in the coming days. “I hope so.”
“You asked your dog about the fire,” Pea Willy recalled. “Is he trained like that?”
“Jack knows what’s going on. When I said he was the smartest dog in the world, I wasn’t lying. Well, not entirely.”
Pea Willy and Sue Ellen focused on Jack, wondering what it was that allegedly made him so smart. Jack looked away.
“If you two need to be on your way to San Fran, you could drop us off. Jack and I will get by.”
“We ain’t goin’ nowhere till we straighten this out,” Pea Willy said sternly. “Did your dog just nod?”
“Probably. I should have been honest with you guys from the start. I lied. Sorry. I assumed you wouldn’t give us a ride if you knew. This isn’t my pet and he’s not a dog. He’s a wolf. A very friendly, very smart wolf. I just found him an hour ago and named him Jack.”
They were in awe, and asked the expected questions. Kloss promised to explain later, and said, “Here, Sue Ellen. Take a left.” She turned. They made their way to the base of the hill and parked alongside You Store It storage facility. Kloss had ridden his dirt bike from the house to the meadow behind You Store It several times. If she did indeed take the quad, this was his bet of finding her.
Pea Willy informed Kloss of the bicycles they had in a rack out back. “If you know where you’re going, we can look for your sister with them. I got flashlights.”
Kloss devised a plan. Sue Ellen would stay behind and leave the high-beams on so Kloss and Pea Willy could find their way back through the smoke. They duct-taped flashlights to the handlebars and tied tee-shirts around their faces below their eyes—the air quality was horrible and worsening.
They were just about to embark on their mission when Jack howled piercingly. The baying of several wolves answered back, and they weren’t far away. The thought of more Jacks in the area, hopefully tending to his sister, was a comforting one to Kloss.
Jack led with Kloss struggling to keep up and Pea Willy falling behind steadily. They crossed the choppy grassy field. Kloss struck a small rock, which jarred loose the flashlight: it fell to the ground. Kloss persevered without it. Pedaling became extremely difficult as they breasted the hill. They angled at a more bearable slant. The flames jumped into view with each prevailing gust of wind. Jack trotted quickly and effortlessly, occasionally glancing back to check on their progress. He howled once again, this time keeping his gait. More baying answered Jack’s, and it was nearer this time.
“Please, Holly, please be with them.” Kloss pedaled faster, burning legs protesting.
The flames created daylight. When a fleeting gust of wind cleared the smoke momentarily, Kloss descried a white pickup and a pack of wolves around it. The truck was upside down.
Pea Willy was huffing as he got off his bike. The sharp smoke made his eyes burn and leak. He removed the flashlight from his handle-bars and handed it to Kloss, who had crawled through the broken passenger-side window and was now lying on the truck’s roof. He shined the light inside the cabin: dangling arms, sheaves of blonde and brown hair, nightgowns… blood. He shined light on each of the three, hanging, secured to their seats by seatbelts. He didn’t recognize the driver but it was Ali and Holly in the cab. Pea Willy crawled in the driver’s side of the truck and uttered some of Kloss’s grim thoughts. Kloss backed out and returned through the narrow cab window on his back.
“Careful, Kloss. Lots of glass here.”
“Holly? Alison? Can you guys hear me?” There was no response. He cursed at the top of his lungs. He shined the light on Alison, who was directly above him. He planted his feet firmly on the flattened grass and thrust farther inside the truck. Shards of glass pierced into his shoulders and back with each thrust. He was now directly under Holly. With his stronger hand between her neck and shoulder, he pressed her body up to the seat. With the other hand he tried to unlatch the seatbelt that restrained her. Too much resistance was being applied to the buckle for it to release: it wasn’t going to happen. He needed both arms to press her weight from the restraint. He pulled down the shirt wrapping around his face and said, “Pea, I need you man!”
“Be right there.”
Pea Willy had been doing the same thing as Kloss, only in the front seat and with more success. His broad shoulders and chest made easy work of rescuing the unknown driver from his seat. He dragged him out of the truck and returned hastily through the opposing king-cab broken window.
“Unlatch the buckle as I press. Ready?”
Pea Willy was ready.
Kloss grunted as he pressed Holly’s body against her seat. Pea Willy felt around the silk gown and soon found the latch.
“Holly? Alison? Say something!”
“I’m gonna release her. Ready?”
“Yes, push it!”
He released her. Holly was carefully lowered to Kloss’s chest. With his friend’s help he brought her out of the t
ruck. He brooded over a flurry of ‘what if’s and ‘if I had only’s. He hated himself for allowing this to have happened. With celebrity brought influence and power. He could have made an honest effort lobbying the city councilmen for an alternate road to Cattlemen Ranch. Hell, even if he had to pay for the damn thing himself, he should have. Would love to have. How did they not see this coming! The hillside was both a tinderbox and a wind tunnel, the perfect storm if ignited. Just because Cattlemen Ranch consisted of only a dozen or so homes doesn’t justify condemning them to burning to death should a fire sever Manchester Road!
Holly’s head twitched, followed by a slight disoriented moan. It was the most beautiful thing Kloss had ever heard. He tried to say her name but emotion choked him up. He coughed out, “Holly? Can you hear me?” She moaned slightly louder. The knot in his stomach began to untie; the sweat exuding from every pore in his body was now due to the fire’s immense heat, not trepidation.
Pea Willy’s strength required no assistance. He managed to release Alison onto his chest before Kloss had left Holly’s side. With a few twists and thrusts, he was out of the wrecked metal with Alison lying on top of him. He eased her onto her back and lowered her gown down proper. The sight of her lifeless body made Pea Willy remember his wife. What would I do if this were Sue Ellen? He wondered. Oh God… how would I get through it? I wouldn’t, I couldn’t. He shuttered at the thought. The worst thing that ever happened to her was when she broke her left foot sliding into home plate during an intramural softball game. He had only been dating her for two months, but loved her dearly. The following six weeks was as torturous for him as it was for her. She lived in a second story apartment on the west end of Amarillo, Texas. He would watch her struggle as she hopped up the steps using only her right foot. He offered to carry her up, but she passed. He begged to carry her, but she insisted he not. She didn’t want to burden him. But what she didn’t understand was that watching her suffer was a much larger burden.
Kloss brimmed with reverence and admiration of Pea Willy when he observed him looking away from Holly’s half-naked body—Kloss adjusted her gown just as Pea Willy had done with Alison. Here’s a man with character, he thought. His wife is a mile away and a gorgeous doll of a girl is half naked and he refuses to look. People like Pea Willy and Sue Ellen should exist in the real world—or at least his world. Good friends are hard to find and these were the rarest type.
