by Dan Kemp
Frank seemed slightly put off by this. "Have you got a better explanation for what you saw?"
"I could think of several."
The building rumbled and shook. Eva had to steady herself against the couch. "What was that?" she said.
"I don't know," Frank said, peeling back the curtains and looking outside. "Earthquake, maybe?” She could hear a car alarm sounding nearby.
"Anything happening out there?"
"Nothing."
Everything shook again, and she heard, and felt, a louder boom this time. Eva fell back onto the couch as the lights flickered and went off. The rumbling didn’t let up this time, only intensified. Frank was scrambling, trying to get to the door, when the roof caved in. Eva screamed as she felt the floor give way beneath her.
She awoke in the dark, her nostrils and mouth filled with smoke. A fire burned nearby; she could feel its heat but couldn’t see it. Eva tried to crawl forward, but felt a stabbing pain in her ankle. Craning her head around, she saw that a wooden plank trapped her leg. With some effort she was able to free herself.
"Help!" she cried out. No answer.
Unable to stand on her injured ankle, Eva crawled. Just as the heat of the fire behind her was fading, her hand came down in something sticky. Blood, she quickly realized. Lightning flashed overhead, the first indication that the roof of the hotel was now completely gone. In the lingering light, she caught a glimpse of something horrible. She crawled forward, hoping for no more light. Of course, the lightning came again.
Frank's body was trapped beneath a pile of timber and bricks, his head nearly severed at the neck and dangling unnaturally backward. Eva felt a surge in her gut and she vomited. She wiped her chin clean and tried to shake the bits of vomit off her hand.
Oh God.
A chair sat nearby, somehow still upright. She squirmed her way over to it, using it for support as she pulled herself upright. Her ankle burned terribly and the pain brought tears to her eyes. Still, she limped along as fast as she could manage.
There was a moan nearby. By the light of another fire she saw Ronny, completely intact, standing and leaning against the remnant of a fireplace. "You're alive," she coughed out.
He looked at her and nodded, opened his mouth to speak, and then suddenly he turned away. A fountain of flame erupted toward him. Ronny raised his arms as if he could brace against such a thing, and then somehow he did. The flames curled around and past his body until they were gone. He thrust out his own hand, sending an arc of lightning back into the darkness. A thunderous pulse of energy hit Eva and she fell back to the ground.
"Here we are again." An unknown voice from the dark.
"Will you ever stop?" Ronny growled.
"No,” came the reply.
There were snarls now, vicious barks and the sound of paws clattering on wood, as three wolves burst from the blackness and leaped toward Ronny. He stepped back, his hand drawing a glowing spectral sword from thin air. Where the sword had come from, Eva had no idea.
I must be hallucinating. Or am I dead?
Ronny spun, swinging his sword in a wide arc which caught one wolf at its middle. As he spun, one hand threw flame at another of the wolves while he thrust the other hand toward his invisible opponent. A great grizzly bear materialized from out of nowhere, bounding forward with a terrifying roar. Ronny kicked the last wolf in its snout as it pounced, finishing it with a slash of his blade.
The roars of the bear fell silent as well. Eva could hear soft footsteps as the hidden man's silhouette slowly came into view. The man, whoever he was, turned suddenly toward her, his eyes glowing in the dark.
"Don't touch her," Ronny said.
"Stop me." The adversary shot flames toward her, and Eva screamed. The spout of fire stopped abruptly, fizzling out into the darkness behind her.
"She's not part of this."
"We can have no witnesses to this. You would say the same."
"Do not hurt her."
The other man laughed. "You haven't changed a bit." With a shout he sent flames at Eva and Ronny, two quick bursts, then flung himself toward Ronny. The fire licked at her face, took hold in her hair, searing her skin with an incomprehensible pain. Eva screamed, writhing on the ground and clawing at her burning face.
"No!" Ronny cried, but Eva never heard him.
Joseph
The days gave way to weeks, the weeks to months. Gray had died that day, sprawled out on the dusty ground in the middle of Jonah's makeshift compound, as the sun set above him. Joseph and Hank comforted him as he went, and that was all they could do.
They found the sheriff lying wounded near the stable, a bullet in his gut. Hank rode into town and came back with a wagon. The town’s doctor managed to keep him alive overnight, and in the morning they sent him off to a hospital in Richmond. Last Joseph had heard, he made it out okay and was back to work.
They had Gray's funeral a few days later on a snowy Saturday morning, his family and friends gathered at the cemetery on the hill overlooking the town. For his part, Joseph was relieved that Gray had outlived his wife, who passed away a few years before. He knew Gray would never have wanted her to have to attend his funeral.
The town began to recover. Hank, who had more than pulled his weight already, made good on his word. He paid not only to appease the owners of the stolen horses, but also to help rebuild the bank. Slowly, life was getting back to normal.
For Joseph himself, progress was a bit slower. That the rest of the town seemed so eager to forget about what happened continued to somewhat stick in his craw. For the most part, he busied himself in his work, of which there was plenty. What little free time he had, he mostly spent with Hope or Hank, who became a quick friend.
It was a balmy early summer evening. Joseph leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the gentle wind ruffle his hair while he bobbed and rolled gently along with the boat. He kept one hand on the fishing rod at his side, ready to rouse at any sign of a bite.
It was quiet all across the lake. Joseph used to come here when he was young; it was a secluded, peaceful spot hidden away in the forest close to home. He still kept a boat on the shore, though he used it less and less as the years wore on.
He felt a tug on the rod and started, sitting upright and taking hold of its handle. "Alright," he said, pulling back with a jerk.
"You got it, Joe." Hank sat at the other end of the boat, tending his own rod.
Joseph reeled in, too aggressively maybe, and felt the tension release with a snap. "Damn," he said, reeling in his now-bare lure. "Should have left a bit more slack, huh?" he said, setting about placing new bait.
"Happens to the best of us," Hank said with a laugh. Joseph cast his line back out. "This has been a nice afternoon, Joe, but that wasn't my only reason for joining you out here. I wanted to ask you something."
"Shoot," Joseph replied, kicking his feet up and leaning back once again.
"Well," Hank appeared to hesitate. "It has been a little over a year now. I would like to ask Hope to marry me. Would I have your blessing?"
Joseph sat straight back up. "You bet your ass you do."
***
An hour later, the two men trudged out of the dim forest and back across the grass to Joseph's home.
"We're home!" Joseph called as he closed the front door behind them. Hank headed for the kitchen, the sizable trout Joseph had caught slung over his shoulder.
Joseph made a detour through the living room, cracking open several windows to let the pleasant evening air into the stuffy house. Next to his armchair, he found his pipe and tobacco before joining his daughter and Hank in the kitchen. Hank was cleaning the fish as Hope leaned over and kissed him on his cheek. Joseph smiled.
"Your father did all the hard work," Hank said, casting his eyes up toward him as Joseph entered the room.
"I still know a thing or two." Joseph took a seat at the kitchen table. He filled his pipe and smoked, puffing contentedly as he watched the young couple together in the kitchen.
Hope flitted back and forth, occasionally stopping to whisper something to Hank, and the two would laugh together.
It hadn't taken Joseph too long to see the signs. Hope seemingly made any excuse to visit him in town when Hank was likely to be around. On a few occasions, she prodded him to invite the other man for dinner. As their budding interest grew, it bit at him slightly in the way that seeing his daughter with any man does to any father.
But she was happy now, truly happy in a way he hadn't seen since before Mary died. Whatever melancholy that particular thought might bring him, to see her like that was more than worth it. And Hank had turned out to be a fine man.
The three ate dinner: Joseph's trout, roasted, with potatoes and carrots. They talked and laughed; they made plans to attend the next weekend's race at the horse track, as a group if Joseph's work would allow him.
After dinner Joseph retired to the living room where he sat in his chair, puffing on his pipe, watching his daughter and Hank through the window. They walked hand in hand across the dark yard, and Joseph could barely see them by the time Hank stopped and got down on one knee in front of her. Hope put her hands over her face and smiled.
She still had tears drying on her cheeks when the two came inside a few minutes later.
"Congratulations," he said, standing up. Hope ran over to him, wrapping him in a tight hug that reminded him very much of how she would hug him when she was just a little girl. Hank stood behind her, smiling wide. Joseph smelled his daughter's hair, and held her close.
She was happy. So was he, he realized now. And maybe that was okay.
***
If things in the town were getting back to normal, that didn't mean all was completely peaceful. But what few disturbances they had were completely and joyfully mundane. A couple of local boys got drunk and caused a ruckus at Peter Jenkins's farm. There was also a dispute over the sale of some land which threatened to turn violent, until Joseph was able to talk the men down.
By the next Saturday, the day of the horse race, the mood in the town was nearly giddy. Dozens of travelers from Richmond, Manassas, Dumfries, and other locales had filled their own, often empty, inns.
Hundreds of spectators filled the stands by the time Joseph arrived. He climbed the first set of stairs, looking out over the track. It had been a clear, sunny day. He welcomed the slight relief from the heat as the sun began to disappear behind the buildings of the town. A few groundskeepers were still tending to the track. He caught sight of Hope down there, leading a horse out from the barn.
Joseph whistled at her and she looked up, flashing him a smile and a wave, and he waved back.
Turning toward the crowd, he headed toward the private seating area afforded to him. He found Hank awaiting him there.
"Hey Joe," he said as Joseph took a seat. The men shook hands. "Hope should be up right before the race starts."
"I thought so. I saw her down there."
"You raised a hell of a young woman, Joe. I'm lucky to have her."
"I didn't do it alone. Couldn't have. But thank you."
"I wish I could have met her mother. She sounds like a wonderful woman."
"She was,” Joseph said.
The noise of the crowd surged a bit as the first of the jockeys rode out and took their positions at the starting gate. A few men prowled the crowd offering last minute bets.
"Did you make a bet?" Hank asked.
"No," Joseph laughed. "Probably wouldn't be seemly for the mayor to do so. Never been much of a gambler anyway."
The last of the competitors had just taken their starting positions when the joyful sounds of the gathered spectators began to change. Very slightly at first, but within seconds Joseph began to realize something was wrong. People weren't cheering anymore, they were screaming. He followed the pointed fingers of a few people nearby and saw: the barn was on fire.
"Oh God," Joseph said. He sprang up and ran down the steps as fast as he could manage, Hank close on his trail. He hopped the railing, landing on the track with an unpleasant thump. Sprinting toward the barn, he saw a handful of men scrambling about the building, a few hauling buckets of water.
"Hope!" Joseph and Hank screamed in unison as they made it to the entrance of the barn, which was ringed with raging flame. There was a loud crack as Hank began to run inside, and Joseph pulled at the man's collar, snatching him backward just as a burning wooden beam fell to the ground where he had stood.
There was more screaming behind them. "No," Hank said, having turned around, his voice heavy with dread.
Joseph turned to look. He could only see the silhouette of a man who strode across the center of the track. There were more flames spreading from the far end of the stands. Spectators pushed, shoved, and trampled, some of them spilling over the top of the steps and falling thirty feet to the ground.
The panic spread across the grandstand like a wave. The horses bolted, either carrying their riders along with them or tossing them unceremoniously to the ground. The man on the track had come to a stop near the starting gate, where he seemed to raise his arms up just as a blast rang out. The middle section of the seating area disintegrated in a sudden explosion, pieces of wood and bodies sent arcing across the entire area, leaving only smoldering ashes in their wake.
Hank was gone now, Joseph noticed. He spun wildly about, looking for any sight of him, or of Hope. All he saw were more people screaming and running in every direction. The flames enveloping the barn were out of control now.
What is happening?
A terrible, guttural roar tore through the air, and the ground trembled. A few people, previously running for their lives, simply froze in place. Joseph followed their eyes to the barn, and his stomach dropped.
An enormous creature stood next to the barn, unlike anything Joseph had ever seen. It stood on two massive legs, fifteen feet tall and even longer from head to tail. Its skin was scaled from front to back.
It stood still at the moment, its head slowly tracking side to side as if regarding the scene before it. Without warning, it burst into a run, its clawed feet sending a man flying as it pursued another victim, whom it pinned against the ground and swallowed whole.
The beast turned, seeming to stare straight at Joseph. It felt as though all his blood drained from his body in an instant, nothing but panic left in his mind. He turned and ran.
Joseph ran through the town, where buildings were aflame and other, more earthly, animals rampaged. He ran past his office, where a man screamed horribly on the street as three wolves tore into him. Rain was falling heavily now, lightning crashing overhead. Buildings were crumbling to the ground.
It's all over. We're all dead. What is happening?
Joseph ran, stumbling, into the woods.
***
The forest was dark, and all he could hear was his own breath and the pounding of his feet.
The ground was slick, yet somehow he kept his feet beneath him as he tore through the undergrowth. Branches bit at his face and arms, but he slapped them away and told his legs to keep pumping.
His chest was getting tight, and eventually he couldn’t help but to slow down. It was only then that his feet slipped. He landed hard on the muddy ground, sliding into the base of a tree with a painful thud. Now his head was spinning, so for a moment he could only lie still and listen.
He could hear faint screams off in the distance behind him. With a moan he heaved himself up against the tree trunk. Looking back in the direction he had come, a dim light filtered through the dense trees. Fire, he knew. His friends were likely all dead. He would be too, soon enough, unless he kept moving.
The sound of rustling nearby gave him a start, and he lowered himself to the ground once again. The sounds passed behind him. Whatever caused them, it was fleeing from the same thing he had been. He pulled himself upright but faltered, feeling a sharp pain in his arm as it brushed against the bark. A warm trickle of blood ran across his wrist. Instinctively he looked down, but in the oppressive darkness he could
n’t even see his own arm.
The screaming behind him had gone quiet, but the forest was not silent. There was a dull, heavy rumble echoing through the woods. He could feel it underfoot, too, like a slow drum beat deep within the earth.
Time to run again. He soon hit another tree, but spun off of it as he went and kept running. The sound was growing louder and the beat faster, and he willed his legs to go faster until they simply could not. Closer now. He got the sense of a break in the trees to his right, so he threw himself that way.
