“What is that thing?” Allen whispered.
“I don’t know,” Ed murmured as he examined the corpse, “but I sure don’t want to meet whatever it ran into. See how the carvings on this spear shaft match a couple of the marks on the robes sleeve?”
“Yeah, so?”
“I think it means the spear belonged to this creature. Apparently it didn’t do him a whole lot of good. Even worse, it also means whatever it fought could handle weapons as well…and it had one hell of a temper. A lot of these wounds have to be post-mortem. I think whatever did this, nailed him to the tree with his own spear after he went down, just so it could keep on stabbing him. But that ain’t the worst part.”
“Oh great,” I exhaled, still trying to absorb all the bloody destruction, “it gets worse. Fill us in on the worst part, Ed.”
“The worst part,” he held up two fingers glistening with semi-coagulated blood, “is this all happened within the past half hour. Whatever did this may still be nearby.”
Yep, that counted as worse.
We peered around us with renewed anxiety, but the blackness revealed nothing. Listening didn’t help much either. The sounds coming from the surrounding night were now so consistently alien they had no meaning to us.
“So,” Allen inquired in a subdued voice, “do you guys still want to go your own way, or come to the playground with me? It’s down this path, and I sure won’t mind the company.” He nodded toward the brushy tunnel forking off to our right.
Casey and I looked at each other, but it was Ed who answered.
“Actually, we’ll go with you as far as the duck pond,” he replied. “I just realized we’ve got the lantern, and you would have your hands full trying to handle both a torch and the wheelbarrow at the same time.”
“Thanks. I had been wondering how to deal with that issue myself.”
“No problem. Once we get to the pond, you’ll be in sight of the playground and can use its light the rest of the way. That way we can also keep the last torches as backup in case something happens to the lantern. We’ll stay there at the pond till we see you reach the others safely.”
“Works for me.”
“In that case,” the older man grunted as he grabbed the spear by the shaft and started working it out of its grisly sheath, “I recommend we not waste a lot of time.”
Ed yanked the thing free, causing the strange corpse to lean and then slowly topple to the ground. It landed in the dirt with a muffled thump. The spear must have been stuck in deep because the exertion in this heat caused him to remove his hat for a second and wipe his brow. Then he turned and extended the bloody weapon in my direction.
“Here, Mark, take this. It’s actually balanced for fighting and has a point. Besides, this guy ain’t using it anymore.”
“Uh, right,” I grimaced as I took the spear, not at all liking the stickiness of the shaft.
I really wished we still had Casey’s rag bag so I could have wiped the thing off, but had to admit it represented a major upgrade compared to my pole. This was a true weapon. It had been designed from the start with fighting and killing in mind. Its blade measured over a foot long, and its weirdly runed shaft of hard wood added at least another six feet. The balance was excellent, obviously the result of real craftsmanship.
To tell the truth, the thing felt deadly simply resting in my hands.
I found it a slightly heady experience suddenly feeling armed after having to improvise all night. But the fact it hadn’t done its previous owner much good wasn’t lost on me either. I took that as an object lesson not to get cocky.
Still, a guy finds a certain satisfaction in having the right tool for the job.
I offered Ed the pole but he said he preferred his cane. Casey had her “battle-hatchet”, and Allen had a pipe wrench in the wheelbarrow with Agnes so I settled for leaving my former weapon beside the creature whose spear I now owned.
I suppose it made for a lousy trade on his part, but it looked like he was having a pretty crappy night anyway.
###
We left the scene of carnage behind, with me quietly unhappy about this unexpected side trip.
I understood the reasons for doing this, and certainly didn’t begrudge Allen having light and a little company for the journey. But I hated the fact we were making this detour because he was leaving us. Not to mention, it meant more time and distance between us and the border to the sane world. Now that we had a plan and a path to the southern overpass, I chafed at this delay.
I wanted me and Casey out of here, dammit.
To make matters worse, the trail we entered had been designed to wind through the trees to give it character and extra length. This meant our line of sight didn’t even extend as far as the edge of the lantern light, forcing us to cautiously approach one blind corner after another.
At one point, we stopped to dim the lantern in an effort to make out a faint glow back in the trees. I almost wished we hadn’t. It turned out there were several glows, and their sources were large globules hanging like luminescent pears from the limbs above. Only these pears were translucent, with some larger than beach balls. All had shadowy forms in their centers, and it only took a moments study to realize they were the curled up bodies of assorted animals…with one or two possibly being small people.
Their outlines were oddly fuzzy, and it became immediately clear why when a shadow in one of the nearer fruit started to break apart.
They were being digested.
Having seen enough, Ed brightened the lantern and we moved on our solemn way.
I didn’t know if those globes had been carnivorous plants, or the grisly pantry of some unknown predator. Finding out would take closer investigation and none of us dared leave the path. I could only hope they had all been asleep, and then brought here by some scavenging beast for storage. That way they had felt no fear or pain, and the creature would be out somewhere else on another supply run.
It depressed me to realize I had now been reduced to coming up with such ideas as best case scenarios. I especially hated it because from everything I had seen tonight, it didn’t matter how bad things got…it would only continue to get worse.
But then, just as I allowed myself to settle into a truly new low of brooding, I saw something that changed everything.
I saw light.
The path ahead had straightened, and it remained visible beyond our lantern’s reach.
My heart leaped as the implications of that sank in. This had to be from the street light over the playground. Despite being over a hundred yards away, we had gotten so used to the darkness its dim rays this far out still illuminated things for us.
“Easy folks,” Ed cautioned. “Let’s stay alert and keep our eyes peeled. We’ll get there.”
Oops.
That’s when I realized both Allen and I had crowded up behind him, and Casey had picked up her pace to pull a couple of steps ahead. We had almost gotten reckless.
I suppose it wasn’t totally our fault. We were modern city dwellers, and it probably shouldn’t have been a surprise that finding honest-to-god, artificial, man-made light affected us so strongly. I’m sure some psychologist would have found our reaction perfectly understandable. Still, we all returned to our places in abashed silence.
But as Ed promised, we got there.
The path opened up before us and we found ourselves confronted with a spectacle that took our breath away.
We stood at the edge of the duck pond occupying the south half of the clearing in the center of Stratton Park. Beyond the small lake lay an expanse of grass. And at the end of that expanse stood something beautiful. Something magic.
The playground at the far end was everything one would expect in a neighborhood like Coventry Woods. It was a large, single structure with multiple towers, bridges, slides, tunnels, and even a conical rock climbing wall fashioned to look like a volcano. It would have been the fantasy of any child from my generation, although largely ignored by the electronic addled
youth of today.
Tonight it gleamed under the blue-white security light that shone like the star of Bethlehem from its tall pole. The overall effect mesmerized us. The fact our vantage point gave it a perfect mirror image in the still, black waters of the pond only enhanced its fairytale quality.
And there were people there.
I couldn’t make out faces or other fine details at this distance, but I could easily distinguish individuals enough to tell there were at least twenty or thirty of them. Some wore pajamas, some wore clothes, and a few had only managed a towel or a sheet. They stood or sat in small groups around the structure, probably in an effort to keep watch in all directions.
I heard Casey give a soft moan beside me, and knew the impact was every bit as strong on her. I could hardly blame the girl. We’re a tribal species at heart, and tonight the wilderness encroached so very, very close.
“I guess this is it,” Allen announced in a subdued voice. “You guys sure you don’t want to change your mind?”
I didn’t answer, still studying the distant scene. Now past the initial rush of euphoria from seeing the light and other people, something about had it started to bother me.
“Uncle Ed?” Casey whispered.
Her voice wavered with indecision. She had been so brave tonight, but walking away from this would be asking a lot.
“Dodger,” he leaned down to gaze at the vista alongside her, “I know how you feel. But you need to understand something…if we go over there, that’s where we’ll stop. That’s where it will end. Even though we know the world is still out there, I don’t think we’d be able to make ourselves go out into the dark again.”
“Uh huh,” I heard her say, not so much in agreement as acknowledgement. I’m sure she knew he was right, but I’m equally as sure she was trying to decide if that mattered enough to not take her chances here.”
“Mark? What do you think?”
I had remained focused on the playground while Ed talked to her, and details that had escaped my initial impression of the scene now began to emerge. And as they did, it altered my whole response to the situation.
Small, pajama clad forms had been tenderly laid in each of the slides, and others had been stretched out on the low bridges. I think a few more may have lain by the sitting couples as well. From this distance I couldn’t tell how many there were, but there were far too many just the same. I only saw one figure of childlike stature erect, and it wandered from group to group in a way that made me wonder if it belonged to any of them. The rest were uncomfortably still.
Then I understood what really waited over there.
That wasn’t a group of plucky neighbors banding together to face the night. It was a vigil. A wake. But exactly like the Treadwells, they would remain in white knuckled denial while their little ones still breathed.
These were refugees who had washed up out of an ocean of darkness onto a tiny island of light. Now they huddled there, hoping the storm would pass.
“I don’t want to go over there, Casey,” I breathed aloud. “I don’t think it’s a very happy place. It’s only two or three more blocks until we reach our shortcut to the highway, and I would really rather get out of here. Besides, I don’t care to run into Darla and Tommy again. I’ve had enough of those two to last me a lifetime.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before answering. I suspected if either Ed or I had answered differently, our journey would have ended right there.
“Yeah,” she sighed in resignation. “You guys are right. Don’t worry, I’m still good to go.”
“We know,” Ed chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder as he straightened to face our departing members. “Allen? I’m sorry as hell to see you go, but I’m glad you’re doing it in one piece. We’ll stay here until we see you reach the others. Then we’ll be on our way. When we get out of here, I’ll be damn sure and tell the authorities where they can find you, first thing.”
“Thanks,” Allen nodded with a sober expression. “I hate to see you guys go, too. After this is all over, we’ll get together sometime.”
“That we will.”
Then good luck out there.” He shook Ed’s hand. “Godspeed.”
I got the impression he didn’t like our odds, and he probably thought he was wishing us “Godspeed” to our deaths. I guess once you’ve committed yourself to a decision, it’s only natural to think it’s the right one.
Personally, I thought following Tommy and Darla had been a big mistake on his part. And confronting them would probably not end well either. I certainly wanted no part of it. Nothing good would come of that pairing, and I didn’t envy anybody who might have to deal with them. But it was his choice, and I had walked nowhere near long enough in his shoes to judge.
So I kept these thoughts to myself as I shook his hand goodbye.
He warned Casey he still had the flu, but she hugged him anyway.
Then he turned, lifted the handles of the wheelbarrow bearing his injured wife, and started out.
The path entered the clearing and did an almost immediate left turn to run between the tree line and the southern bank of the pond. It gradually moved away from the water as it curved north, still hugging the trees to allow room for some picnic tables on the west bank. From there it angled northwest away from the lake as the clearing widened and crossed the grassy expanse to the playground.
Overhanging tree limbs shaded it the whole way, and Allen would be counting on that for protection against aerial predators.
We watched him go in gloomy silence.
He left the golden circle of our lantern’s glow to enter the dim twilight of the distant fluorescent bulb. Then it simply became a matter of following the path. His figure became a dark silhouette, toiling its way down the asphalt strip. He moved slowly, but at an inexorable pace that would get him where he needed to go. He had been doing it all night.
“Hey, over there,” Casey pointed to the right of the playground. “it looks like Allen ain’t the only new arrival.”
I followed her gesture to spot a light moving at the far north end of the clearing. It winked on and off as it moved to the west. It took me a second to orient my mental map, then realized it must be somebody with a lantern like ours who moved down the tree lined street running in front of the park.
More refugees washing in from the storm.
“This seems to be the place to be,” Casey sighed.
“Yeah,” Ed agreed. “It’s like we’re all moths and that’s the world’s biggest back porch light.”
I had been concentrating on the progress of the newcomers when Ed’s words entered my consciousness. But as soon as they did, my mind did a hard left turn.
Think of moths and spiders.
My throat clenched as the words of the man in white thundered through my brain. He had been nothing but a hallucination, hadn’t he? A bit of mental flotsam tossed up by a subconscious still reeling from an inhumanely powerful blow to the head? I had already discounted him as such, and yet…
Think of moths and spiders, and when the time is right it will come to you.
And it did.
When I was a young boy, my parents would send me and my two brothers out to stay at my grandfather’s farm for three weeks every summer. They said they did it to expose us to a way of life other than the city. I now suspect it had more to do with exposing them to three weeks of peace and quiet.
We always slept in a front corner bedroom of the farmhouse, and one year a large garden spider had built its web over the eastern window, facing outward. There were no such spiders in town, so we thought it amazingly cool to be able to get so close to one and examine it through the glass.
Then one night, my brother Alex had a brainstorm. He took the flashlight under his bed, put the lens against the window, and shone it out through the spider’s web. Being the patient one of the three of us, he simply held the beam steady and waited. Aaron and I thought he was nuts and after a couple of minutes told him to shut off the light
and go to bed.
But then the moths came.
At first one, and then another…and then more.
Soon we were all oohing and laughing as the spider did a frantic dance, scuttling from one future meal to the next. Being a spider, it must have thought it was raining food. And being young boys, we thought the ongoing slaughter was hilarious.
Nobody worried about what the moths thought.
Until now.
“Oh my God,” I whispered. “It’s a trap.”
“Huh?” Casey looked up at me. “What was that, Mark? Are you okay?”
I realized I now panted with anxiety, but hadn’t the time to care about that. All I knew was that as impossible as it might seem, the man in white had been real. And his warning had been in deadly earnest.
“But where’s the spider?” I gasped; still talking only to myself as I desperately scanned the area. “Where’s the goddamned spider?!”
“Mark? What spider? What are you talking about?”
I didn’t reply, being too lost in a world of my own at the moment. All that mattered was remembering.
“Wait, there was more. What else did he say?” I feverishly hammered at my beleaguered memory. “C’mon goddammit! He said something else. Something before that!”
“Who?” a clearly annoyed Casey demanded.
I closed my eyes, pushing hard. I tried to remember the words of a hallucination that I no longer believed to be a hallucination, and they weren’t coming easily. So much had happened tonight, and I had actually been conscious for those things. What had seemed so clear earlier now felt like grasping for the details of a dream. I seldom remembered my dreams.
For a moment I despaired, but then my feverish attempts bore fruit. His words thundered through my mind almost as if he spoke them again…
Oh! One other matter, Mr. Garrett. Beware of large bodies of water.
…and then I opened my eyes to stare at the largest body of water in Coventry Woods.
Oh shit.
It was already too late.
Even as I gazed across those dark waters, something disturbed the surface on the other side of the pond. A small area of the water noiselessly humped up, and then fell back, causing a circular ripple to spread out toward the shore. I doubt anybody else saw it. But something did lurk down there, and if it merited a warning of its own from the man in white then it must be bad. Really bad.
Nightwalk Page 25
