by Brian Harmon
“No. Just plug your phone into my truck and we’ll go.”
“You sure?”
“I like to drive.”
“If you say so.” Eric took a moment to gaze through the windshield before getting out of the Cruiser. He just didn’t understand how that entire building could utterly disappear. It didn’t make any sense.
His eyes rose to the rearview mirror and he looked out at the empty parking lot behind him. Suddenly, he became aware of something gleaming atop one of the rear headrests. He leaned a little closer, squinting into the mirror. It looked like a little golden bead…
He turned and looked behind him. But there was nothing there.
Only his imagination.
And yet…
He searched the interior of the car, but there was nothing out of place.
“You okay?” Paul asked.
Eric faced forward again and searched the seat around him. He knew what it had looked like. It was that strange, golden fluid he saw inside the building… But what would it be doing out here.
“Eric?”
“Yeah…” As he stared at the passenger’s side seat, trying to decide if he’d really seen the golden bead or not, he became aware of something outside, a massive shadow pooling on the asphalt. He snapped his head up, but there was nothing. The parking lot was as empty as it ever was.
“What’s up?” Paul pressed. “Talk to me.”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” But Eric sat there a moment longer, staring out at the empty parking lot. For just a moment, he was sure he’d glimpsed the building that was standing before him. It was just a large shape through the windshield, a shadow where there should only have been sunlight.
But now it was gone again.
He remembered what Isabelle told him about the Victorian mansion in downtown Seattle. It was always there, but people just couldn’t see it.
He unplugged the phone from the cigarette lighter and locked the door.
“Seriously, are you okay?”
“Yeah. I was just getting some weird vibes from this place. That’s all.”
“I guess invisible buildings’ll do that.”
“I guess so.” Eric buckled himself into the passenger’s seat of Paul’s truck and plugged Karen’s phone into the dashboard, then he stared out the window at the PT Cruiser. He hadn’t thought a thing about leaving it behind when they set out for Milwaukee Street, but now he wondered if it had been a bad idea leaving it here unguarded.
He had the strangest feeling that someone had been here while he was gone.
Chapter Thirteen
Paul called Kevin on his way to the gas station and asked him to meet them there.
Kevin didn’t seem to like the idea of giving up his phone for the afternoon, but he agreed to do it.
Eric went over the places he’d been in his head. The apartment, the overgrown lot, the asylum and the store. He’d seen Aiden at two of them, Pink shirt at two of them and those strange black creatures at two of them, but none at the same two. He found those strange symbols and a primitive viewing device pointing to the mysterious tower at three of those places and the thing that Paul hit with his truck and that queer golden fluid at only one.
So what were they going to find next?
Paul pulled into the gas station and parked. It was an ordinary Citgo station, as far as either of them could tell. It was fairly small and very dated, with just four pumps and a small store. There was no diesel pump. There was no car wash. It was as basic as gas stations came. Eric couldn’t imagine it being very profitable. There were two much larger stations just down the road.
Eric sat staring at the inconspicuous structure, wondering if there was some invisible secret attached to it.
“Gas station,” said Paul, looking over at him. “You visited a gas station last year, too.”
“I’ve been to a lot of gas stations in my life.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
“You think there’s a connection?”
Eric continued to stare through the windshield. He, too, had recalled the gas station. It was out in the middle of nowhere, on a little stretch of highway. He had no idea which highway. He never saw any signs. He stepped out of the woods and saw it there, aged and rundown, with an old, rusty, white limousine parked in the tall grass on one side.
He remembered being confused and overwhelmed. He’d begun to remember things from his forgotten dream, distressful things…
The gas station attendant was a little man, no bigger than a ten-year-old, though he was a full-grown man. But he had given off such an enormous presence. He was kind and gentle, and very wise. He gave him direction and he gave him courage and then he sent him on his way.
But Eric saw him again when his journey was done. The little man did him a favor. He took something away, something that was hurting him…
He couldn’t quite remember. It was all a little fuzzy.
“Eric?” Paul had asked him if he thought there was a connection between these two gas stations.
Eric unfastened his seatbelt and opened the door. “I couldn’t tell you,” he replied. “Maybe it’s just another gas station.”
The two of them stepped out into warm, June air that smelled of gasoline fumes and car exhaust and walked to the door.
“Maybe we should wait for Kevin,” Paul suggested as he pushed his phone into Eric’s hand.
Eric took the phone and pocketed it. His brother was right. It was best if he stayed in touch with Isabelle. They had no idea what might be waiting inside. “He’ll find us. Just stay cool. And I doubt they’ll have any in here, but if they do, please don’t molest any manikins.”
“Not funny.”
“No, it’s very funny. It’s just not funny to you.”
“You’re a shithead. You know that, right?”
The interior of the store was dark and cramped. It smelled like every other convenience store he’d ever been in, musty and bland, with just a faint undertone of greasy food.
There didn’t seem to be anywhere to hide. But Aiden entered this store six years ago and never left. How did he do it?
There had to be something in here.
“I’m going to grab a Coke,” said Paul. “You want one?”
“I’m not here for a treat,” replied Eric.
“I know. But who walks into a convenience store just to browse?”
That was a good point, actually. And he was thirsty, he realized. Hungry, too, now that he was thinking about it. It was well past lunch time. “Sure, grab me one. Maybe a snack, too. I’ll buy.”
“No, I got it.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes I do. Then you have to stop bringing up the fucking manikin.”
“Her name was Rose.”
“I don’t care what her name was! What its name was! Just...shut up about it.”
“Fine. I won’t say another word.”
“Thank you.”
“But I won’t be able to keep Karen quiet about it.”
Paul groaned. “Just…enough with the stupid manikin.”
“Fine.”
Paul stalked around the aisle and headed toward the soda cooler without another word.
Eric surveyed the store. How did Aiden do it? If it really was like the other places he’d found, it must still be here.
He tried to recall all that he’d heard. The story was that he was on camera entering through the door, which made sense, because the door would be one of the places being monitored. But then what? He looked over at the counter. There would be cameras aimed at the registers, too, of course. He couldn’t have gone that way. Even if he somehow avoided the cameras, he probably would have been spotted by the clerk. It must have been an inconspicuous area of the store, someplace that not a lot of cameras would be aimed, someplace he could duck into completely unnoticed.
That would likely be the back corner of the store, right where Paul had just gone.
He walked arou
nd the end of the aisle and examined the coolers. There was beer at this end. Gallons of milk separated the beer from the juice and beyond the juice were the energy drinks and finally the soda. Eric stopped in the middle of the aisle and considered it. If he was going to leave a gap in the camera coverage, he’d probably do it right there, where the milk was. After all, who would try to steal a gallon of milk? People might try to sneak a bottle or a can into their pockets, but they weren’t going to get very far with a whole jug.
Eric closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples.
There was nothing here. Was he thinking too hard about this? Was he trying to find logic where there was none? After all, why would an invisible doorway have to be in an inconspicuous place?
But the security footage must have been gone through carefully. It stood to reason that Aiden didn’t vanish into thin air on film. Something like that would have drawn even more attention.
He opened his eyes and walked on toward Paul. But he saw something from the corner of his eye and he stopped.
For just a moment there was something there, a shadowy space amid the cooler doors. But it was gone now. Had he only imagined it?
He turned and walked on again, but he stopped. No. Maybe it wasn’t so far off. He turned and looked again. He squinted at the coolers, looking as hard as he could, but still nothing was there.
Maybe it wasn’t that he needed to look harder. Maybe he was looking too hard. He closed his eyes and tried to relax. But when he opened them, there still wasn’t anything that wasn’t there before.
He could do this.
It had to be here. It had to be the answer.
He closed his eyes again and this time left them closed. He started walking, letting his fingers drag across the cool glass. He felt the edge of the door, plastic and metal, and then the gap between the machines, then more metal and plastic and more glass.
When his fingers slipped off this next cooler, they didn’t touch another. There was nothing. He turned, his eyes still closed, and felt his way into the crevice.
One step. Two. Three.
Then he opened his eyes.
He was looking down a shadowy corridor with cobwebs hanging from the ceiling. At the end of the corridor was a wide open space, dark and dusty. He could see booths and tables and a podium with a sign urging him to wait to be seated.
A restaurant.
He turned and looked back at the store. It was brightly lit in comparison. He could see people walking around out there, but they couldn’t see him. He was hidden, just like the restaurant itself.
He stepped deeper into the corridor and looked around. There were big windows along two of the walls, but they were covered in dust and grime. One was broken. It probably played hell on the heating and cooling costs.
Beneath all the dirt and disrepair, the room was bland and dated, with cheap wood paneling, faded plastic plants and dull tile floors. The room was divided (probably into smoking and nonsmoking sections) by a thin, wooden partition topped with decorated glass. One of these panes was also broken. Shards of glass littered the table beneath it and glittered upon the dust-covered floor.
It looked like this place hadn’t been used in years. Just like the others.
He couldn’t believe it. This store had a restaurant attached to it. When was the last time anyone ate here? When was the last time anyone even set foot in here? How could such a place just vanish? Did the owner of this building really have no idea what he had?
This was it. This was the secret of Aiden’s disappearance. He obviously found this passageway somehow and slipped out through the exterior doors of the restaurant.
He could hardly wait to tell Karen about this.
His hand went to the phone in his front pocket and he remembered that Paul wasn’t with him. Paul couldn’t see the door to the restaurant. He wouldn’t have any idea where he went. And he didn’t have a phone that Eric could call to tell him.
He needed to go back.
But as he turned he found his way blocked by something that wasn’t there before, something large, silhouetted against the brighter lights of the store behind it.
He couldn’t tell what it was, but he was sure it hadn’t been there a moment ago.
Then two blood-red eyes opened and glared at him.
It was the thing from the asylum. The thing that came up from the basement. The thing that chased him out into the parking lot and would have killed him if it hadn’t been for Paul’s timely arrival.
Eric said that bad word again.
He wasn’t going to get out that way. It seemed that Aiden left through the restaurant’s main doors and now he was going to have to do the same.
But as soon as he turned around, he found a second creature standing in front of that door.
He was trapped.
Chapter Fourteen
They were pale and thin, rigid, not fleshy, less like mammals or reptiles than massive, armored bugs. Their bodies were long and thin, plated, thorny and balanced on long, bony legs that folded strangely beneath them. Their heads, in contrast, were very big, with great, toothy jaws thrust forward like the cowcatchers on old steam trains. In contrast, their eyes looked almost human, except for their shocking red color.
He didn’t have time to ponder them further. They were moving, creeping toward him on stilt-like legs.
He had to move. Now.
The door to the kitchen was to the right. He only had to dart around the partition and across the smoking section before these things caught up with him.
With no other option presenting itself, he went for it.
The things bounded after him. They were fast, like the one at the asylum. They didn’t run like any kind of insect. They didn’t scurry or scuttle. They were agile and swift, almost primate-like. Though their legs were long and stiff, they didn’t stalk. They were flexible and lithe. The one that had blocked the exterior doors leaped over the partition and dropped down onto the dusty table, nearly overturning it, but never losing its stride.
Eric darted through the kitchen door and then threw his weight into it, holding it closed as one of them shoved against the other side. It was strong. He couldn’t hold it back for long.
To say that this was not an ideal situation was a grotesque understatement.
He searched the kitchen around him, but there was nothing but empty shelves and dusty counters piled with old, metal trays. There were no tools, certainly no knives. Why would there ever be anything as convenient as a knife? He’d even take a rolling pin at this point.
Something large and heavy slammed into the door, almost knocking him off his feet, but he managed to brace himself and hold it closed. He couldn’t keep this up forever.
The back door was at the far corner of the kitchen. To reach it, he was going to have to bolt for it. But even if he thought he could reach it before the enraged beast caught him, he had no guarantee that it was going to open. It might be locked or barred in some way, like the fire exit at the asylum.
But he didn’t have much left in the way of options…
Swearing bitterly, he ran for it.
The door crashed open behind him almost as soon as he began running. The monster stumbled and slid on the smooth, tile floor, crashing into the counter. It bought him a few seconds, allowing him the time to reach the back door. But it was just as he’d feared. It wouldn’t open.
Pressing his back to the door, Eric faced the creature. It was slinking toward him, it’s strange, bony feet clacking against the tiles.
Another door stood before him, leading back out into the restaurant. Eric ran for it, but it swung open before he could reach it and the second creature stepped through, blocking his path.
This was bad.
This was very, very bad.
There was no way out now.
Eric backed away from the second creature, but he had nowhere to go but into the waiting jaws of the first. Desperate, he snatched a stack of trays off the counter beside him and held them in front of hi
m like a shield. They were about twenty-six inches long and eighteen inches wide, made of thin aluminum, relatively useless as a weapon, but there were four of them in this stack. If he was really lucky, they might hold off the inevitable carnage for as much as thirty seconds. Maybe.
There was nothing left to do. Isabelle couldn’t help him. He couldn’t contact Paul because Paul didn’t have a phone. Even if he could contact him, his brother would only end up as dessert.
Karen was going to be so pissed at him.
He looked from one of the creatures to the other. They were stalking closer. He could hear them growling. The sound was odd, less a snarl than a queer sort of clucking noise.
His heart was racing.
Out of options, he lifted the trays high above his head and turned to face the nearer of the two.
It paused for a moment, as if considering his choice of weapon, and then it pounced.
He swung the pans like the blade of a broad axe.
He expected it to do nothing more than anger the thing, if it even noticed the blow at all. Instead, the monster burst on contact. In the blink of an eye it was gone and in its place was a heavy mass of black goo that splashed across Eric’s startled face.
Even before he could wipe it away, he realized that it was gone, evaporated into thin air.
It was just like the one Paul hit with his truck, except that he hadn’t struck it with nearly the force of a moving pickup…
Shocked that he was still alive, Eric turned and faced the second creature. It stood there, staring at him, growling that strange, almost cooing growl.
He took a step toward it and was surprised to see that it took a step back.
“You can’t be serious.” He lifted the pans over his head again.
The creature actually shrank back from him, closing its evil, red eyes in anticipation of the blow.
He swung the pans and this one exploded just like the others. Black liquid splashed across the floor and vanished almost as quickly as it appeared.
Eric couldn’t believe it. After filling him with such utter terror, the things were as fragile as balloons. It didn’t make any sense.
