Heart of the Resonant: Book 1: Pulse (Resonant Series)

by B. C. Handler

  I looked at my phone again with the pleading hope of seeing a signal, but only saw the same empty bars. I have no idea what the situation was on the outside, but if Harold was right, then the police should be here any minute. And if they do see the eldritch horrors lurking around the building, they’d call the military or something.

  The time caught my attention: nine thirty-seven in the morning. I’ve only been up for about three hours. Christ, it feels like it should be late afternoon. Time drags in times of peril, I suppose.

  I excused myself from the table and joined the corner where Caroline was resting. The idea of sleeping next to her was appealing. But as nice as closing my eyes sounds, I couldn’t wind down enough to sleep.

  I settled on the floor next to her and rested my back against the wall. I looked over and saw her looking up at me through half-closed eyes.

  “Hey, you feel okay?” I asked.

  She held me in her gaze, not saying anything. She crawled from the ground and sat next to me, her shoulder right up against mine. “Why did you stay behind?”

  “I just wanted to help you,” I said.

  “Why?” she whispered.

  Fuck it, I thought. I might screw something up in the future or things might just go sour between us, but that’s not today’s problem.

  “I like you, Caroline,” I said looking down at her. “You caught my eye since the beginning of the semester and I’d like to get to know you more. Can’t exactly do that if you’re not around.”

  Maybe that’s too forward. She’s going to think I’m a creep telling her like this. I should’ve worded it differently. Now she’s going to think I’m trying to make it look like she owes me.

  I was clenching my first tightly in my lap, feeling instant regret by winging it. But then I felt Caroline’s hand resting on my forearm. She leaned in closer and rested her head against my shoulder, looking up at me.

  “Thank you, that was very brave, Al.” She said it in such a sweet and gentle tone that it conveyed nothing but earnest gratitude.

  “I… just want you to know that you don’t owe me anything, okay. Feel free to decline, I wouldn’t hold it against you, but once this is over… if we could—”

  “Yes,” she said instantly.

  It took a few seconds for the penny to drop, but when it did, the corner of my mouth curled and I reached over with my other hand and rested it on top of hers. The unreal events of today didn’t affect me in such a way where I couldn’t feel a profound sense of joy. Maybe this was finally the chance to forge a deep bond with someone. Only the future will tell.

  Our moment was ruined by a violent rumble that felt nothing short of an earthquake. A shockwave rattled the room, knocking shelves loose from the wall and shaking equipment off the tables. Dust fell from the ceiling tiles above. Everyone jerked to attention and a panic surged. Mrs. Peterson attended to the others huddled in the corner, and Ryan and Helen dove under the table.

  Caroline clutched me in fear and I looked to Harold.

  “What the fuck was that?” I asked.

  He stared up as if he could see through the ceiling. “That… that felt like an explosion,” he said, disbelief hanging in his voice.

  “What the hell could explode around here?” Helen shouted from below the table.

  “Was it something from the auto garage, they’re set up in the building next to ours, aren’t they?” Ryan asked in a panicked ramble.

  “No, that was too close. It felt like it came from… son of a bitch,” he cursed through gnarled teeth.

  “What?” Helen, Ryan and I asked in unison.

  “The chemistry labs are upstairs, and labs are held every Monday and Wednesday. Son of a whore.” He brought a hand to her forehead and massaged as he paced. “If everyone left in a panic, I doubt anyone took the time to turn off the gas to the Bunsen burners.”

  “The sprinklers should put it out, right?” Ryan asked.

  “They only go off for fires hot enough to break the glass bulbs inside the fittings. A gas explosion won’t get hot enough to break the glass.” He continued pacing, clutching his fists at his sides. “The gas covers a lot of area; it’s just going to keep spreading. Shit!”

  “Oh god, no, no,” Helen cried, breaking down into a heap on the floor. “I’m going to die, God, why?”

  Ryan knelt next to her and placed his hands on her shoulders trying to calm her, but he too looked terrified to do anything else.

  Caroline started hyperventilating and balled up next to me.

  “Caroline, it’s going to be okay,” I said without thinking. The words left my mouth out of impulse, and I only thought about it after they left my lips. This bad situation was made even worse. We can either risk getting eaten by monsters going downstairs or we can wait until we burn or suffocate.

  I couldn’t help but think back to that Buddhist story of the tigers and the strawberry I read in that book of Zen stories.

  It was about a man who was chased off a cliff by a hungry tiger, but managed to grab a lone vine growing from the cliff face. When the man looked down, he saw second tiger waiting down below, and the other sniffing at him from above. On the branch were two mice, one black and one white. They gnawed the branch little by little. The man saw a strawberry growing from the vine then ate it. It was the sweetest strawberry he ever had.

  The story stuck with me because it was one of the confusing ones that made me think that the book was a waste of shelf space in the library.

  I looked at Caroline and felt my heart tearing when I saw her weeping. I wrapped my arms around her. I didn’t notice before, but she smelled sweet, like strawberries, in fact. Perhaps I didn’t remember the story because of circumstance, but by her scent. Out of everything thrown at me, her scent was the last thing I ever picked up on. But now that she had my attention, it was all I could really focus on.

  Caroline wept in my chest and I nuzzled my chin on top of her head; if I can’t do anything more, the least I could do was provide comfort.

  As I sat there rubbing her head, the story played out in my mind again. I drew connections from the tigers to the monsters, this room as the vine, the mice as the fire, and Caroline as the strawberry.

  An idea sprouted and bloomed from the depths of my mind as I pondered the story again and again, getting a sudden sense of clarity. Perhaps the point of the story was to live in the moment, that suffering was unavoidable in life, and I shouldn’t forsake this moment with negative worries of what was to come.

  An unusual story for life, but a somewhat fitting one. I should taste the sweetness of my strawberry, no?

  I took Caroline by the chin and titled her face towards me. She looked at me with those familiar, watery eyes, and I brushed away the tears with my finger and gingerly held her cheek. I gazed at her lips, and then back to her eyes. She blinked, her expression softening ever so lightly. She gave my lips a quick glance, too. That was all the approval I needed.

  My lips met hers, lightly at first. I broke, but she leaned in and pressed her lips against mine with more passion. Then we stayed locked together, basking in a moment of bliss that chased away out imminent doom.

  A small pang of regret hit my chest as I thought about the book. I really should’ve given the other stories that didn’t make sense more thought. Perhaps if I understood them all, I would’ve developed a deep understanding of myself and the world and find enlightenment. All that potential wisdom was going to go up in flames in the library if the fire spreads through the other wings.

  I pushed her away and sat there, frozen in thought. Caroline called my name, but it didn’t reach me. The only thing I could think about was the book. No, the library.

  Buddha, you fat, profound bastard!

  “Harold!” I yelled, getting to my feet.

  “Al?” Caroline said again, confused by my sudden outburst.

  “It’s going to be okay, Caroline,” I said again, but with conviction in my voice.

  “What is it, Al?” Harold asked as he appro
ached.

  “The library!” I proclaimed. “If we can get there safely, we can escape.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “It’s Monday and it’s still early, the library should be completely deserted. No people should mean no monsters, right? That’s our safest bet.”

  Harold took a couple seconds to consider it, but shook his head. “If we want to get out then we still have to cut though the main entrance and out into the first floor, where there could be more of those things lurking around.”

  “The courtyard,” I stated. “There’s a study area with tall glass windows right in front of the courtyard. It’s deep in the back. We should be able to break it without much commotion and get outside. Pass that are the parking lots. We can get out of here.”

  Harold’s eyes danced back and forth as he considered my idea. He looked back towards the others and then back to me. “It’s better than waiting here to burn,” he admitted with a weak smile. “Okay, I’ll tell the others.”

  I watched him spread the word, then turned my attention back to Caroline. I took her hand and said, “I’m not giving up yet. We’re going to get out of this, okay?”

  She gave my hand a tight squeeze and nodded. “Okay, I believe you.”

  The man of the story was a fool. I realize that now. He was a fool because instead of trying to save himself, he was distracted by the fruit. Your demise is not inevitable in a perilous situation, don’t be distracted by the fruits of life, find your freedom from a perilous situation.

  I’m sure someone is going to disagree with my interpretation, but fuck them. I want to live.

  Chapter 3

  The halls had a foul smoky smell from the fire raging upstairs. I haven’t heard the fire alarms go off yet, which struck me as odd. I’m not entirely sure how the system worked, but I imagined something would go off for fire, smoke, or carbon monoxide. It didn’t matter; I didn’t plan on staying long enough to get roasted.

  Since my plan involved us leaving the relative safety of the classroom, Harold suggested that someone go out to scout ahead. Naturally, I volunteered because it was my own plan, but also for the fact that I was the most capable. Harold was too old to outrun anything, the same applied to Helen and Mrs. Peterson. Ryan was a bit on the pudgy side, and his good vibes apparently ran out. And the other students were too terrified to even consider it amongst themselves.

  I was the oldest student at twenty-two, Caroline and Ryan second at twenty. The rest were either eighteen or nineteen, fresh out of high school. I decided to work for a year and a half to save up and figure out what I wanted to do with myself. I settled on the idea of being an accountant because I worked construction and carpentry with my dad since I was twelve. If I had to choose between a scorching rooftop and a cozy desk, I’d take the latter. A boring job, but it would pay well.

  The hallways were vacant, thankfully. I crept around the corner and saw the blue sign hanging from the ceiling telling me that F-building was up head with a range of rooms, bathrooms, and most importantly the library. I saw the stairwell Mrs. Peterson mentioned and decided it would be best to make sure nothing was creeping out of sight. I peeked into the landing, the scent of burning stronger. A thin veil of smoke could be seen emanating from the third floor. I peered down past the railing to the first floor landing and saw a gruesome sight of blood and gore that spilled out into the hallway. Downstairs must’ve been slaughter.

  Before leaving, I carefully eased the doubled doors off their magnetic hatches and pulled them shut. They couldn’t be locked without a maintenance key, but it should help some.

  I backtracked through the halls, carefully peering around the corners at a few junctions just in case I overlooked anything, then made my way back to the room. A little down the hallway, I found Caroline’s glasses. A deep crack had formed in the left frame, but they still looked functional. I slipped them in my pocket and approached the door; three knocks with a pause before the fourth and I was in.

  Harold was the first to greet me. “Well?” he asked.

  “It’s clear all the way up to the G-building entrance. And I closed the doors of the nearest stairwell for good measure. It’s not locked or anything, but I doubt these monsters would know the difference between a wall and a closed door.”

  “Sounds like we’re ready, then.” Harold turned and faced the rest of the room who was waiting. “All right, everyone, we’re going to leave and head to the library. From there, we’ll bust open a window downstairs and cross through the courtyard. The coast should be clear up until we make it to G, but we should still exercise extreme caution and move quietly. Al is going to be ahead of the pack and give us the okay to move. Do not do anything without his go-ahead. Any questions?”

  They all shook their heads.

  Everything was simple enough. I scout ahead while Harold and Mrs. Peterson hear the students from the front, while Ryan and Helen handle the rear. Everyone with the exception of Ryan had a key to open or lock any any of the classrooms. In the case of danger, I run back and whoever was nearest to a door would open it and corral people in. The plan felt solid, and the situation seemed less dire.

  I was loading things into my backpack that might be useful when Caroline tapped on my shoulder.

  “It it really safe for you to be by yourself?” she asked. She had a worried frown on her face.

  “As safe as it’s going to get,” I said. Her brows furrowed and she glanced to the side. I took her cheek and brought her gaze back to me. “I’ll make it work, we’ll get out of here, and then we can have our date, okay?” I reached into my pocket and carefully placed her specs on her nose.

  She answered with a smile and we just stared at each other for a few blissful moments. Ryan cleared his throat, causing me and Caroline to awkwardly look away from each other

  “What’s up?”

  “That guy over there, Michael, he doesn’t want to leave.” Ryan pointed to the cationic guy sitting in the corner.

  Since coming to this room, Michael hasn’t moved an inch. He was so still that I actually forgot to include him in the count of people. The plan felt solid because everyone understood what to do. We can’t risk deadweight ruining everything.

  I marched over to see what his deal was. Hopefully a pep talk would snap him out of it.

  “Michael, we can’t hide here anymore. We have to go.” I tried to sound firm, not harsh. He looked in pretty bad shape mentally; eyes fixed wide and skin bleached like paper.

  Despite speaking directly to him, his gaze never left my knees.

  With a soft sigh, I knelt next to him. “Michael, if you stay here, you’re either going to burn or suffocate.”

  “I’d rather burn,” he said with a hollow tone. “Burning is better than that.”

  “Better than what, Michael?” I asked. Eaten? Torn apart by some sort of eldritch horror?

  “Better than that,” he repeated in a mumbling voice.

  “Jesus, there’s no time for this. Hey, you two,” I called out. “You guys are in charge of him. Just make sure he stays on his feet.”

  They both shared a look and were going to protest before I glared them down. They relented and each grabbed one of Michael’s arms. He put up a little resistance, hanging in the thier hands like a scarecrow.

  Harold approached and gave the boys an odd look. He looked at me speculatively.

  “That guy, Michael, I think he’s lost it,” I filled in. “Those two are supposed to babysit him, but keep a close eye, will you?”

  “I’ll watch him,” he said. “I just wanted to give these to you if you’re going ahead.” He presented an identical timer he’d thrown earlier, and a long flathead screwdriver. “Figured you can use this as a distraction and this...” He held the screwdriver up and shrugged. “Hopefully you won't use it for anything, but again, better than nothing.”

  I took the timer and stuffed it in my back pocket. I took the screwdriver and gave it a closer look. Seven inches of nickel-plated steel ending with a
sharp flathead. Thinking about using this against one of those monsters seemed as futile as taking on a blackbear with a swiss army knife. But Harold’s words repeated in my head: better than nothing. I slipped it in my front pocket with the handle exposed for easy access.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He nodded and blew out a breath. “Alright, no sense in dragging this out.”

  I gave a firm nod. “Right.”

  I turned to see everyone looking at me with heavy expressions. Most of them were still clearly uncomfortable venturing outside. I couldn’t blame them, but our hands were tied.

  The smoky smell from the hallway began to seep into the classroom, notifying us that the fire upstairs was growing ever fiercer. If one of the gas tanks went off in one lab, it’ll only be a matter of time before the others do, too. Maybe the sprinklers would kick in and douse the flames, but it’s not worth waiting.

  Caroline approached and took my hand with both of hers. “Please stay safe.”

  I fought back the urge to make a dopey grin and settled for a simple one.

  “I will,” I said, squeezing her hands back. “And I’ll make sure you and everyone else is, too.”

  I took my queue at the door. The halls looked clear from the narrow window in the door. Harold was already behind me, so I gave him a nod and I slipped out. Harold stood out the door halfway and waited. It was clear on the left side, so I slowly walked down the right until I was at the corner. Clear. I waved the signal. Harold and Mrs. Peterson began ushering out the others.

  I waited until they fell behind me before taking off down the hall to the next junction, repeating the process of peaking around the corners and giving them the OK.

  It was a little nerve-racking moving sluggishly through the halls while the smoke was becoming more pronounced, collecting overhead in faint wisps. I rounded the corner that lead to the stairwell, which was still closed. Smoke seeped out through the small crevices of the door in steady streams, filling this hallway with a dense cloud. My eyes watered and I had to bring my shirt over my mouth to filter the air.