Bedlam Lost

by Jack Castle

  “And did you get kilt too?” Odessa asked.

  “No… I think I remember them walking me out in handcuffs. They said my wrists were so small they had to use children’s cuffs. Funny, I hadn’t remembered any of that until just now.”

  “Maybe you kilt yourself, in prison,” Odessa offered.

  “I doubt that.” Emma shot back.

  “Really? And just why would you be any different than the rest of us, huh?”

  “I know I didn’t. I would never do that.”

  “How do you know?” Odessa pressed.

  Emma pulled out a small, modest wooden cross on a leather string about her neck. She rubbed it between thumb and forefinger. “Because if I had I would suffer eternal damnation.”

  Odessa returned the stare and said, “Well maybe that’s exactly what happened.”

  No one said anything for the next few minutes.

  “I was an ice cream man.”

  Everyone turned and saw Jeb sitting up on the floor. They had made him comfortable with blankets and a pillow. He had spent the last few hours snoozing through the chaos.

  With nasal congestion from his broken nose he said, “Sutton’s Ice Cream Parlor. It was in my family for three generations. One day a cruise ship company comes to our town. They wanted to build a cruise ship dock in our port. The town immediately voted them down. We liked our privacy and didn’t want tourists ruining the natural beauty of the place. But then these sales guys go around telling everybody about all the money we’d make if we’d just vote the cruise ship facility in. They showed me how 2,000 passengers would clamber through my ice cream shop every day making me a rich man. Well I, and the town, fell for it hook, line, and sinker, and we voted the cruise ship port in. I took out a big loan to double the size of my parlor and I took on extra employees to keep up with the summer rush I was promised. Only problem was that passengers boarded their air conditioned motor coaches right on the dock and drove right through town without stopping.”

  “You kilt yurself too?” Odessa asked.

  Jeb shot her a glare. He sniffed loudly and resumed his tale. “Well I lost the business, and as a result, my wife and kids left me. The bank foreclosed on my house, I was left with pretty much nuthin. One day I drank too much. I guess I went a little crazy. I took a shotgun down to the port. I only intended to shoot over their heads, ya know, scare them a little? But like I said, I was drunk.” Jeb stared down at his feet. He covered his eyes with one hand. “My first shot ended up hitting a young woman and her baby, killing them instantly. After that, people came running at me, and I just kept firing.” When Jeb moved his hand away tears were burning down his cheeks. “I wish I hadn’t. I was drunk. I was angry.” Fighting back the tears he added, “I never meant to hurt nobody.”

  Hank and Doc lifted Jeb to his feet, and helped him sit at the table with the rest of them.

  Jeb fingered his swollen nose. In attempt to change the mood he joked, “Geez, did you have to hit me so hard, Hank.”

  Hank spoke, “We all seem to have something in common. We all did something bad, and we all don’t remember exactly how we got here.”

  Odessa countered. “I remember how I got here, I came in on the ferry.”

  Emma said, “I remember coming in on the ferry too, but do you remember getting on the ferry, cause I don’t.” The expression on Odessa’s face said she didn’t.

  “Yeah, it was like that for me too,” Hank added. “I remember coming in through the tunnel but I don’t remember driving from Wyoming to Alaska.”

  “Maybe we’re in Purgatory,” Jeb said aloud.

  Doc silent up to this point, spoke up, “That would certainly explain a lot. An opportunity to make better choices. Maybe that’s why we’re here.”

  “Where do you think we are, Hank?” Emma asked.

  “Dunno.” Hank got up from the table and grabbed the grease board from the wall. He erased the daily specials with the forearm of his shirt and started writing down all the possibilities.

  Hell

  Heaven

  Government Experiment

  Alien Abduction

  Latitude 61

  Coma

  Purgatory

  He spun the grease board around to face all of them. “Okay, what does everybody think, anybody want to share any theories?”

  When no one said anything Emma figured she had to be the one to get the ball rolling, “I’ll go first.” Turning to the doc she asked, “Hey Doc, do you know anything about all this Latitude 61 nonsense?”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that. I know we’re not dealing with alien artifacts.”

  Odessa piped up at this, “Oh yeah, why’s that, Doc?”

  The government did do covert experiments in the Rakewell building but it wasn’t on any alien technology, they were doing multiple experiments like studying sonar systems on the beluga whales, and other military applications like that.”

  “How do you know about all that stuff, Doc?” Sheriff McCarthy asked.

  “Because before I became the friendly neighborhood Doc Clemens, I was a Lt. Colonel Clemens in the Air Force. Even former rank has its privileges when it comes to getting information.”

  “Well, I guess we can take that off the list, Sheriff,” Emma said.

  “Yeah, and you can cross off Heaven, because this here sure ain’t my idea of Heaven,” Odessa said, finishing the last of her pie and eyeballing the rest.

  Hank nodded and drew a line through the two choices.

  Emma thought it was good they were now working as a team. She bet the sheriff came up with the idea just for that reason. Keep us from going crazy and tearing each other’s throats out.

  Doc added, “And I think the same goes for Hell, because according to scripture and various sources, Hell is a place of eternal damnation and suffering. I’d imagine it would be far worse than anything we’ve undergone so far.”

  “Says you,” Odessa grumped.

  Emma had enough of the older waitress’s negative attitude. “Okay, where do you think we are?”

  “I keep telling you, we is dead. We all done sumthin’ wrong, we all got kilt over it and now we’re in Purgatory.”

  “We all know what we did,” Emma began, “But what did you do, Odessa? Huh? I imagine it wasn’t something pleasant.”

  Emma braced herself for an assault but Odessa’s eyes became vacant, as though she were reliving some awful memory. She then dropped her gazed and muttered, “My business is my own.”

  Emma recalled the creepy totem pole in the canyon, depicting a man at the center being pulled apart by creatures both angelic and demonic. “When Horatio took me up to Totem Pole Canyon he said the Indians used to call this place,” she struggled to remember.

  Doc came to her aide, “Ti-Quan-nah-ha-nah, which is Tlingit for “Place where Heaven meets Hell.”

  “Right, thanks Doc,” Emma said. “Anyway, he said Purgatory is a place between death and final judgment. And that guy, uh, Dante,”

  “The Italian poet, Dante Alighieri,” Doc interjected.

  “Yeah, that guy, he claimed that in Purgatory souls had to pass through the appropriate punishments for salvation. If they passed all the tests they were cleansed of all sin and made ready for Heaven.”

  Hank slapped his thighs and stood up. “Okay, that’s enough. Nobody’s dead. We’re not in the afterlife. All of this can be explained. Chances are this is all some elaborate hoax or military experiment.” He gazed around the diner. “They’re probably watching us on cameras right now, all having a big laugh.”

  “What about Horatio’s mouth?” Emma asked.

  “Special effects, have you seen what they’re doing on screen lately?”

  “What about the missing bodies?”

  “Trap doors, I dunno, but I don’t think we’re dead.”

  “Hey guys
,” It was Jeb, he had broken off from the group and was staring out one of the broken out windows. “The water’s receded.”

  Everyone moved back outside to the balcony.

  Main Street was a mess. A Jeep Wrangler had crashed into the front of Pete’s Hardware Store. Downed power lines swayed and sparks arced overhead.

  Emma was the first to speak. “What do you think we should do now, Hank?”

  “I know what I’m going to do. Dead or not, Purgatory, Hell, or some secret alien experiment, I’m going to get in my car and get the hell out of this crazy town. You folks are welcome to come with me.”

  “Wait a minute? Why we listenin’ ta him?” Odessa asked, pointing at Hank. “You said so yourself, Doc, he shouldn’t have lived. Not after that fall off that building.”

  “No, I said, he was lucky he didn’t die.”

  Odessa shook her head, “Same difference.”

  Emma, “You leave Sheriff McCarthy out of this. He’s not one of them remember?”

  “What about you?” Odessa spat. She held out a steak knife in front of her, “Fars I knows, anyone of youse could be one of them fake people Jeb was babbling about.”

  “Odessa, put the knife down before you hurt yourself,” Sheriff McCarthy ordered, tiredness evident in his voice.

  “The only person whose gonna get hurt is the one who messes with me.” That said, she backed out of the diner and disappeared through the main entrance. Part of her apron must have got caught in the door because a loud crash was heard from outside. Pink fabric bunched in the door jam and moved a little as Odessa tugged on it with a curse. Finally it pulled free. This was followed by a holler that was cut short when she smacked the pavement with her backside. More cursing ensued and then faded away.

  In spite of everything that had happened to them in the last hour, Hank, Emma, Doc, and Jeb shared an uncomfortable laugh.

  Chapter 29

  The Tunnel

  They found Hank’s white SUV was still parked in the side alley next to the diner and Hank breathed a sigh of relief for small mercies; it was one of the few remaining operational vehicles in what was probably the whole town.

  Hank nosed the vehicle through the flooded murky waters on Main Street and navigated around smashed up cars piled against shattered buildings. Felled trees and scattered debris lay everywhere. Broken and twisted limbs jutted out from every building and a fishing trawler was lying on its side in the middle of the street. “The Unfortunates” was written on its stern in graffiti. A firetruck at the end of the street was sticking through Pete’s Hardware Store, bar lights still blazing, and a rusted out tanker, riddled with holes like it had been peppered by a machine gun, lay in the middle of the school like it had been dropped there.

  When they finally navigated through the debris field and up onto the tunnel access road, a thick mist was beginning to collect under the trees that lined their path. It wasn’t long before the headlights barely cut through the fog.

  “How can you see anything?” Emma asked softly, wiping condensation off the inside of the windshield with her sleeve.

  Hank glanced over at her, then back at the road. “We’re almost to the entrance,” he offered reassuringly.

  The entrance to the tunnel was at the end of the road; a large opening cut into the mountain, edged with bricks, Hank had a good memory of what it looked like but he couldn’t see any of that in this thick soup. He slowed the SUV down to a crawl, his jaw tightening; visibility down to a few feet past the hood.

  “I can’t see anything, can you?” he asked Emma.

  “Want me to walk out in front of the car?” the doc offered from the back seat.

  Yeah … like hell I’m going to let my coffee-talk buddy get taken out by some ghoul in the mist.

  Aloud he answered, “No. I think we’re okay Doc. I’ll just take it nice and easy.”

  Hank stared through the windshield, watching as the mist danced and swirled over the road. There, white lines passed beneath their wheels; they’d entered the designated waiting zone where cars would line up to be loaded on the train. That would mean the tracks would be somewhere on their left. The tunnel entrance just ahead.

  “Are you sure about this?” Doc asked. “We puncture a tire and we’re all stuck here.”

  Hank had never driven a vehicle on train tracks before but he knew the SUV’s clearance would be good enough that they could straddle one of the rails with their other wheel in the gravel shoulder. It should work but it would likely be a bumpy ride.

  Hank found the level crossing more by luck than anything else and made a sharp turn to put the vehicle on the tracks. He eased up on the speed as the wheels fought for traction between the gravel and the crossties.

  All conversation stopped as everyone fought not to swallow their tongues. Hank caught sight of Jeb hastily reaching to buckle his seatbelt.

  Darkness swallowed them as they entered the tunnel without warning.

  Hank felt Emma tense up in the seat beside him and he was about to tell her not to worry when the headlights caught something unrecognizable in the tunnel ahead.

  “There’s something in the mist,” Emma said, transfixed.

  As he brought the SUV to a stop, Hank reflexively reached down and made sure his pistol was still in its holster; he’d let Doc have the shotgun as Jeb still couldn’t be trusted. Before he could unsnap his holster, a dark shape cut through the mist and slammed into the hood. Everyone jumped. Whatever had struck the car had fallen down onto tracks in front of the car.

  “Did you see what it was?” Jeb asked from the rear seat, peering through the windshield along with the rest of them.

  “Wait here in the car while I go check it out,” Hank said.

  “Like hell you are,” Emma said, echoing his own thoughts earlier. “Don’t you watch horror movies?”

  “Well, yeah of course.”

  “Then you know that this is the part where you step out of the car and something in the fog snatches you up.”

  “Yeah, that’s true,” Hank mused. “But that’s not going to happen to me, know why?”

  Emma shook her head.

  Hank grinned, “Because I’m the wise-cracking hero.”

  He understood she was scared, they all were, but he also knew he couldn’t just roll over whatever had just struck the front of the car. He cracked the door and that’s when a howling noise echoed out of the misty tunnel ahead of them.

  Emma looked at him with a concerned look on his face and said, “Maybe we should turn around?”

  “I don’t think this tunnel is wide enough for that,” Doc said from the back.

  Hank thought about it. “Either way we’re not turning around. We’re leaving this crazy town behind us.” With that said, he closed the door, put the SUV in drive and let the vehicle crawl forward. They went about fifty feet deeper into the tunnel without incident. The mist even clearing a little bit as they traveled further from the entrance. And then, out of the darkness appeared two red pinpricks of light. They flared well above the height of the car, the darkness around them almost thicker somehow.

  “Anybody else see that?” Doc asked from the back seat.

  “See what?” Jeb asked.

  “Oh God, what now?” Emma asked.

  Hank gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, his knuckles already white. He peered over the steering wheel into the fog but he didn’t stop his forward movement. At first he didn’t see what they were talking about, the red glowing lights were just exit signs for service shafts ahead of them, but then he saw the monstrous black shape move as it stretched to fill the width of the tunnel. “Is that a train?”

  It puffed steam, whether it was from the mouth of a creature or a train Hank couldn’t tell. Hank slammed on the brakes. The thing was coming towards them, whatever it was.

  “What the hell is that?”

&nb
sp; “It’s growling, can’t you hear it?” Jeb cried.

  “That’s crazy,” Hank shot back.

  “Big and black, glowing red eyes,” Jeb said fearfully. “Maybe it’s Barnabus?”

  “No,” Hank began. “Whatever it is, it’s a lot bigger than a bear.”

  Hank felt Emma patting his thigh rapidly, “Back up, back up!” she cried.

  He needed no further urging. He threw the SUV in reverse.

  “It’s moving faster,” Doc stated, sounding more amazed than frightened.

  As Hank drove backwards out of the tunnel like a stunt car driver, gravel flew from the tires like sea foam in their wake. The creature roared and the tunnel shook, debris raining down from the ceiling to hammer dents in the roof and hood of the Ford Explorer.

  “Faster!” Emma cried.

  “The tunnel’s collapsing,” Jeb yelled.

  Hank had his arm over the seat and focused only on backing up.

  More of the ceiling gave way as the train monster thundered after them, large chunks falling in their path. Hank struggled not to grit his teeth, knowing he couldn’t veer while his wheels were straddling the tracks. Their vehicle bounced and bucked over the debris, everyone slamming their heads into the ceiling. More rubble pounded the roof like angry fists.

  Finally they reached the entrance, the darkness breaking way to gray afternoon light. Hank guessed his speed at fifty miles an hour when they shot out of the tunnel. He slammed on the brakes even before they reached the level crossing, nearly skidding through it before Hank jerked on the e-brake and skewed the vehicle in an aborted j-turn. The car screamed to a stop, now perpendicular to the tracks. He threw it in drive without missing a beat and they burned rubber as they got back on pavement.

  “Keep going, keep going,” Emma shouted.

  Hank did keep going, but as he did, he risked a glance in his rearview mirror. As the mist shifted, he could see there was no need to hurry. The train monster wasn’t following them and the mouth of the tunnel was blocked. With the tunnel sealed, they had no way of getting out of town.

  They were trapped.