by Brian Harmon
Even now, she could almost hear the dreadful, echoing screams that drifted down to her in the darkness, paralyzing her with fright.
For two days she listened to that little voice inside her head, the one that kept promising that everything would be okay, that kept promising her a hero, and just when it seemed that she could tolerate it no longer, after she’d suffered for two days through an emotional and physical hell, he came. Just as that voice promised, her hero came and took her away from that dark and terrible restroom stall. But instead of going home and trying to forget Gilbert House, instead of eating all the food she could get her hands on, instead of rewarding her hero with a kiss in the safety of the dormitory hallway outside her own room, all the things she promised herself she would do when it was all over, she found herself snatched into another kind of hell.
She finished her business, pulled up her jeans and then exited the stall as quickly as possible, wondering if she’d ever be able to sit on a toilet without remembering the screams that had filled the dark hallways of Gilbert House that night.
As she washed her hands, she gazed into the mirror at her own dirty face. To her own eyes she seemed pale, and it wasn’t any surprise. After all, she’d gone almost two days with nothing to eat or drink. She had barely slept. And to be hurled out into that awful place Wayne called the Wood…
It happened so suddenly. She was standing there, terrified out of her mind for Wayne and his friend, certain she was about to watch their skulls implode under the pressure of the monster’s enormous hands, knowing that once their screams were silenced, it would come for the rest of them.
It would kill them all, just like it killed the others.
But the next thing she knew, they were on the floor, holding their aching heads while the monster that should have had their brains smeared between its fingers fled back down the hallway from where it came. She’d had just enough time to wonder what had made the creature run away when the glass behind her shattered and she was swept into that cold and reeking sea of death.
She remembered being tossed around in the darkness. Things jabbed and clawed at her. She curled herself into a ball, her hands pressed against her face, shielding herself. She screamed in terror as something clutched at her, nearly tearing off her shirt.
She adjusted the water so that it wasn’t so hot and splashed it onto her face, trying to clean off some of the dirt. It was no wonder Misty had been so concerned when she walked in. She was a mess.
She held her face over the sink for a moment, letting the water drip from her chin. She thought about the thing that grabbed her through the window of Gilbert House’s third floor. Was it the same creature that chased her and Wayne through the Wood? If so, why hadn’t it killed her immediately when it grabbed her? Why did it drop her? It didn’t make any sense.
She pulled a paper towel from the dispenser and dried her hands and face. She remembered a strange shock. Her weight shifted and then suddenly she was free of the creature. But she was falling. Screaming, she plummeted through a black emptiness. Tree limbs struck her from below, battering her weary body. One of them gouged her arm. She had only a second to register the searing pain of that wound and then she struck the ground hard enough to knock the breath from her.
Even as she lay there, gasping, trying to gather her wits, it sounded like the entire world was crumbling around her. In the darkness, she could see nothing, but all was chaos to her ears. Things crashed. Thunderous, cracking concussions filled the air. The very ground shook.
Finally, she found the strength to crawl. Her arm hurt like hell, but her will to survive was far stronger than the pain. She crawled across the cold ground until she ran into one of those strange, slick logs. It felt terrible, and she screamed when she touched it, but when she turned, her flaying arms found the branches and she understood almost immediately that it was only some kind of tree.
She curled up beside it and lay there, trying to see something in the perfect darkness that surrounded her, wondering if perhaps she’d been struck blind.
This was about the time that she realized that she was crying. Tears streamed down her face. Sobs kept forcing their way up her throat. She couldn’t help herself. She was so afraid.
Time passed as the chaos raged unseen around her, and eventually she regained control of her tears. Likewise, the chaotic din around her, noise that she now realized must have been all those trees crashing to the ground, eventually calmed. In the eerie silence that followed, she might have remained where she was, unwilling to move from that spot, terrified of making noise and drawing the monster back to her, if the need to pee hadn’t become too great to ignore.
It was those three sodas Brandy gave her. She’d gulped all of them down, so very thirsty.
She waited as long as she could, until she could no longer stand it, but her need to go was far too desperate to ignore. Finally, with her teeth and thighs both clamped together, feeling as though she wouldn’t make it another second, she rose to her feet, forced her shorts and panties down to her ankles and went where she stood.
It was something she never intended to tell anyone. Even in the utter darkness, even in the face of her paralyzing fear, it was humiliating. She emptied her bladder into the dirt like an animal, not even sure the whole time she was going that she was missing her own shorts and shoes.
Afterwards, she pulled her shorts back up and began to feel her way along the log, away from the foul puddle she’d left in the dirt. She was still blind, still frightened, but she was finally beginning to grow calmer. That voice was with her again, her own voice, she thought, telling her to remain calm, promising that someone would come for her again.
She found a place where one tree had fallen over another and curled up in the little space between them. Here she stayed, shivering, listening to the noises around her. At some point she remembered that her arm was hurt and, realizing that she was still bleeding, turned her torn shirt into a makeshift bandage.
She straightened up and looked at herself once more and then turned and walked out of the restroom. She remembered hearing Wayne’s voice as he screamed something, the first sound she’d heard since the trees stopped falling around her, and then the thing was moving again, crashing through the trees somewhere very close, startling her into a scream.
She had really believed that the thing was coming to finish her.
She lay there in the gap between the two fallen trees and waited, listening. There was silence for a while, for hours it seemed, and then she heard Wayne’s voice again, calling her name. Only she hadn’t realized that it was Wayne then. She only knew that someone had come looking for her, just as that soothing voice had promised.
When she returned to the room, Wayne was still waiting for her right where she left him. He looked unhappy and uncomfortable, but he was there, and she was glad. After all he’d suffered for her, she did not want him to have to go anywhere alone. More than that, she didn’t want to be left alone. In fact, she might never leave his side again.
“Where’re we going now?” Andrea asked when the two of them returned.
“I need you to swing by my apartment real quick,” Wayne replied. He wanted to try and talk her out of going with him as well, but that would do no good. If what she had told him about the voice in the woods was true, then perhaps he needed her. But as he looked at them both, he felt a heavy burden falling on him.
He desperately hoped that he could keep them both safe.
Chapter 21
Wayne slipped quietly into his apartment and went straight to his bathroom to gather more bandages. He sat down on the toilet seat and quickly wrapped his feet with as much gauze as he could find. He didn’t know much about first aid and figured the act was pointless, but he thought even a little bit of cushion might keep the cuts on his heels from flaying open on the hard stone floor of the temple.
He also added more gauze to the blood stained dressings around his arm. Olivia had been right about that one. He should have gone to the
emergency room. But there was no time.
He stood up, satisfied with his quick work, and then hurried to the bedroom where he found some sandals to wear back to the temple. He would just leave them at the pool with his other clothes before diving in, but until then they would serve to make the journey a little easier on his aching feet.
Before leaving the room, he also removed his contacts and put on the glasses he kept by his bed. He would need to take full advantage of his nearsightedness to get him through the temple again. He only hoped his eyes were poor enough to do the job. Brandy’s prescription had been much stronger than his.
He was still not happy about taking Olivia and Andrea into the tunnels with him. The trip was dangerous and he did not want to put them in harm’s way. He’d just managed to rescue Olivia from the Wood and now he was preparing to take her into the very place that had killed Beverly Bridger and Wendell Gilbert.
He thought that telling them that the journey through the temple required them to be naked would dissuade them from going, but still they insisted on accompanying him. Olivia wanted to pay him back for rescuing her and to help him protect Albert, Brandy and Nicole, who had all been so kind to her in Gilbert House. She was also determined to find answers for all that had happened to her these past couple days.
As for Andrea, perhaps she really didn’t have a choice in the matter. Perhaps that ghostly voice she heard was all the reason she needed. But the way her eyes had shined when he told her his story, he had a feeling she would have gone anyway.
Wayne wanted to grab more clothes, but he would only have to shed them with his sandals, so he left his room without bothering and walked to the kitchen. He remembered there being another flashlight in one of the drawers to replace the one he lost in Gilbert House’s courtyard. There were also fresh batteries, which Olivia’s flashlight was sure to need sooner than later.
As he walked back toward the front door, the spare flashlight and batteries in his hand, he heard the soft click of a door opening and he paused to look back.
Charlie’s bedroom door was cracked open and Laura’s round face was peering out at him. One muddy, green eye was visible in the soft light from the stove hood Charlie insisted on using as a night-light.
Wayne knew what she was seeing. He was filthy. He was dressed in a strange cloak. His feet were all bandaged up. He probably looked absurd standing there with his hand on the doorknob, staring back at her through glasses she’d never seen him wear. He wondered what she was thinking, but more so, he wondered what she was doing up. Had she been lying awake in Charlie’s bed all this time, waiting for him to get home? What did she have on her mind?
He decided he didn’t really want to know. He turned away from her odd gaze and walked out of the apartment. Two better people were waiting for him out there, and he realized as he walked down the hallway of his apartment building that he no longer had the slightest interest in Laura Swiff.
That part of his life was finally over.
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About the Author:
Brian Harmon grew up in rural Missouri and now lives in Southern Wisconsin with his wife, Guinevere, and their two children.
For more about Brian Harmon and his work, visit www.HarmonUniverse.com
