by Jeff Strand
A shadowy figure moved closer to the window he was staring out as the six-legged cat-thing jumped onto the roof of the tram. A tattered brown cloak wrapped around the too-thin form and where the feet should have been, he saw what looked like a hundred snake tails writhing in unison to move it forward. A small constellation of glowing lights moved within the hood of the thing's cloak, and after a second he realized the flecks of luminescence were the eyes of the nightmare looking back at him. It moved closer still and its breath cast a pall of frost across the shatterproof surface.
"What the hell kind of thing is that?" He spoke softly, to himself, and almost jumped when he had an answer from the tour guide.
"You know, I don't think I've ever encountered one of those before." Her voice was forced into a cheerful tone that lacked all sincerity. Bless her heart; he could only imagine how she must feel being stuck in her position.
"How'd it get a cloak?" he asked.
"We've actually seen the occasional humanoid creature wearing articles of clothing," said Barbara. "Never anything like a cloak before, but remember, the forest sprouted up on top of an existing town, so we think the creatures sometimes find items that were left behind."
"That makes sense. So I get to name it, right?"
"Well, absolutely!" She smiled brightly, apparently happy to handle something that wasn't part of the crisis. "Did you have a name in mind?"
As Lee watched, a small, humanoid creature with wings got too close to the hooded monster, and the head turned quickly. What looked like at least seven black tongues snapped out of the cowl and wrapped around the delicate-looking fairy. Each tongue latched on firmly and the poor thing was torn to shreds, then pulled back into the depths of the covering.
"Oh my." He swallowed the dust that seemed to have built up in his throat and nodded his head. "Yes, let's call that one a Proof Demon, shall we?"
"A Proof Demon?"
"Yes. I don't believe in the supernatural, but this is as close to proof as I'll ever get."
Barbara chuckled. "Proof Demon it is."
"Do you suppose it's going to be much longer?"
"Before we get the power back? No, I'm sure it will be back any moment now. There's another tram scheduled to show up soon and even if the power failure continues here, they'll be able to radio back for assistance. This is going to be a busy day for the Haunted Forest Tour, and there are contingency plans for situations just like this."
"Really?" He lowered his voice. "Like the weapons cache you have stored onboard?"
"Well, we can't be too careful, can we?" She smiled nervously. "As a matter of fact, in a worst case scenario we'd distribute the weapons, but of course that would be a last resort."
They both flinched as the tram rocked slightly again and something heavy walked across the roof above them. "Sooner might be better at this point," said Lee. "It's been a while, but when I was younger I was quite the marksman."
"Right. I think I'm going to ask a few people as quietly as I can if they'd like to volunteer. If you'd like, I'll introduce you to Eddie up front so he knows who to hand the weapons to. In a worst case scenario. Which of course we don't anticipate."
Lee nodded and slowly stood up. Outside of his window, the Proof Demon let out a wet, croaking noise that rose in octaves and was loud enough to shake the shatterproof glass. Barbara followed him and made the proper introductions.
"Do you think we'll need them?" Lee asked Eddie, who was sweating profusely even though he was apparently trying to project a calm demeanor.
"I doubt it, but I've gotta tell you, I've never seen this many critters around the tram before. I mean, nothing even close. People on the tour don't get ripped off, that's for sure, but the forest things never, ever, ever gather around the tram like this, not at any of the stops. This is insane."
"I have to tell you, I wasn't expecting to see anything like this when I booked the tour."
Eddie nodded solemnly. "Believe me, I completely understand you people being scared shitless."
Lee appreciated the empathy but still wished they were willing to pass out the firearms instead of waiting.
* * *
Christopher was starting to wonder if he'd ever discover what fate awaited him Monday at work. He looked at his mom, who was still peering out the window with fascination. Either she was still having a good time or she was a better actress than anyone ever suspected. The girl a couple of seats behind him had recovered from her perfectly understandable panic attack and was now quietly clinging to her father.
Just past his mother, several sets of eyes stared back, watching every movement that she made; in front of him the little boy and his mom were quiet, both looking at the roof as something heavy paced repeatedly, scraping claws across the top of the tram. The tour guide was leaning over and whispering to a young man two seats ahead of him. Finally, Barbara pointed to the front of the tram and the man nodded his head before getting up and walking past her, shuffling his feet.
Christopher did everything he could to avoid looking out of his own window, because if he kept seeing these nightmarish creatures, even through the protective glass, he was probably going to freak out a little. He hadn't expected to be squeamish, but something about having twelve perfectly round eyes looking at him from above a set of hairy mandibles big enough to eat his face was making him a little twitchy.
Barbara came over, a strained smile on her face, and leaned in close enough that he could smell the perfume she was wearing. It smelled like cotton candy. Nice. When she spoke, it was in a conspiratorial tone. "Hi, listen, we're pretty sure that another tram car is due in a few minutes and that they'll get everything taken care of."
"That's nice. Good to hear. I'm glad."
She continued. "Just as a precaution, we're scouting out a few people who would be willing to carry a firearm if it comes down to that, which it won't, we're certain. We only have a few, plus our driver has something more substantial if it's needed, but I wanted to know if you would consider being 'deputized' until this is over with."
Christopher looked at Barbara for several heartbeats before nodding. "Um, yeah, if you think it becomes necessary. Sure."
"We don't think it will. Have you ever fired a weapon before?"
"A few times." He didn't mention that the biggest thing he'd ever fired was a pellet gun, though he'd almost put out the neighborhood bully's eye with it, so he knew how to do some damage. Besides, he was pretty sure he could figure out how to handle the firearm if the situation came up, and he wanted to be damned sure somebody on board was watching out for his mom.
Barbara smiled again. "Great, thanks. Again, we're certain it won't come down to that, but it's best to be prepared, right?"
"Absolutely." He had a hundred questions he wanted to ask—Did the weapons come with silver bullets? Was there any proof that some of the things out there were actually susceptible to firearms damage? Were there any cute and cuddly things hiding in the woods, because, damn, the ugly and menacing stuff sure seemed to be in the majority?—but instead he nodded as Barbara gave him instructions to see the driver and then took her leave, heading towards the drill sergeant-looking man who was holding on to his crying daughter.
Christopher looked over to his window when he heard the scraping noises. The spider-thing was trying to chew through the reinforced window, though, happily, it didn't seem like it was getting anywhere.
Damn bug.
His mom leaned across the aisle and whispered to him. "So you've been deputized. Is that like a guarantee of getting a date with the cute tour guide, or what?"
"I think she's a little distracted right now, Mom." He looked back at Barbara. "Also, a little young."
"Oh, please! Your dad was ten years older than me."
The floor began to vibrate under his feet, and Christopher looked over his shoulder to the back of the vehicle. Through the window he could see a distant pinpoint of light through the murky forest and past the growing numbers of creatures waiting outside.
"Oh, good!" Mindy shifted in her seat and looked back toward the window with him. "This is fun and all, but after a while even staring at all-new monsters makes me edgy."
As they watched, the light came closer and several of the things outside started stepping away as if the oncoming illumination hurt their eyes. That wasn't surprising, since at least three of the things back there had eyes that seemed almost totally made of pupil.
As the things in the world outside of their safety bubble moved away, Christopher caught better glimpses of them in the light and almost wished he hadn't. What the hell is something with wet tentacles doing on dry land? And why does it have wings? He wasn't really sure he wanted to know.
The light at the front of the approaching vehicle grew quickly. After sitting in the gloom for a while and watching freakish things move up and over the tram, Christopher's eyes ached as they tried to readjust.
"Say, honey, do you think that thing is coming sort of fast?" His mom frowned as she spoke.
"Maybe a little..." Okay, maybe a lot. They hadn't been moving anywhere near the same speed when they'd been touring. It was impossible to see anything past the headlights, but was there something else on top of the tram car? He couldn't tell.
"Seriously, they won't be able to slow down in time."
Christopher nodded and shouted to the other tourists without even thinking about it. "Everyone put on your seatbelts, now!" He quickly turned around and began to refasten his. His mom followed suit a second later.
Several other people were looking over their seats now, all of them watching the approaching vehicle. Most listened to his suggestion, but a few of them kept staring, some at the approaching car and others at the beasts around them.
The heavy-sounding beast on the roof suddenly jumped off amid a clatter of scrapes and a loud roar.
Christopher craned his neck around until he could look out the back window again. "You're right, Mom. They're not slowing down." His throat felt hot and dry. His pulse raced at the thought of a four-ton one-car locomotive ramming into them. Oh, this was going to be so very bad...
"Just brace yourself and try to relax, honey. Think solid, immobile thoughts."
Barbara rushed past them, heading for her own safety spot near the front of the tram. "Everyone please secure your seat belts immediately!" All pretense of calm was gone from her face.
The heavyset man a few rows in front of them stood up with a stunned expression on his face. Apparently he couldn't believe there was a chance of danger from another group of tourists.
"What's happening?" His voice quavered. "What's wrong?"
Christopher shot him a hard look. "Buckle up and sit the hell down!"
The man got a sour I-just-swallowed-a-thousand-legged-bug expression and opened his mouth to make a comment. Behind him, through the window, Christopher could see the various shapes and nightmares outside the tram backing away. Some of them had faces too alien to read, but a few seemed to be grinning in anticipation.
The light from the car behind them filled the entire cabin of the tram, and the obese man held his hands before his face as if to hide from the light or the full understanding that they were about to get creamed. He let out a bellow of fear and looked away.
There was one loud blast of an air horn.
And then impact.
CHAPTER FIVE
The tram-on-tram collision worked out poorly for all concerned.
The first vehicle, stationary and powerless, moved forward fifteen feet despite the fact that the brakes were down and in a locked position. The rear end of the vehicle rose completely off the ground during the crash. Neal Whistler, who had made countless foolish decisions during the course of his life and whose final decision to stand up instead of strapping himself into his seat continued that trend, was catapulted through the air.
His immense weight meant nothing at all to the kinetic force that smashed him first into the ceiling of the tram and then bounced him across the left side of the car and then down the main aisle.
Neal did not scream as he ricocheted through the interior, but several of the people around him did. Tina Landry let out a particularly hair-raising one as Neal rammed into the back of her husband's seat and cracked the plastic. Brad Landry didn't even see the man coming. He was forced forward as his seat belt tried to hold him in place. The security belt was designed to resist up to 750 pounds of pull before it gave out, and it did the manufacturer proud. Instead of snapping, it held firmly and in the process held Landry's body where it was while his arms flew forward. He nearly blacked out as both shoulders dislocated.
Neal, the airborne human wrecking ball, continued on his trek, slamming into the hard surface of the center aisle and flailing through his path of destruction until he struck the front window. Fortunately, the window was shatterproof. Unfortunately, Neal was not.
The people who were strapped into their seats had a slightly better time of the impact. Those in the back of the tram had the unsettling sensation of being weightless for a moment and then took a blow to their backsides as the car came crashing down. It landed on the front of the tram that hit them, and then pushed forward until it bounced onto the track again. The passengers were all violently shaken as if driving a speeding truck down a mountain of jagged boulders.
Christopher was very grateful for the deep cushioning of the headrests, which he was sure was the main reason a few dozen skulls didn't get cracked wide open and spill their contents onto the tram floor. Aside from Brad's dislocated shoulders and everybody else's countless bruises, most of the people on the tram—save for Neal—were not badly hurt.
The front end of the second tram held up remarkably well to the impact. The windshield spider-webbed but did not explode when the rear of the first tram lifted and then dropped back down on top of it.
For several seconds Christopher sat in a daze, barely able to believe that he and his mother were still alive. The Haunted Forest Tour had sturdy trams, no doubt about it. That would be the one good score on the comment card. He could hear himself asking his mother if she was okay, but it felt like somebody else was speaking through a cell phone with lousy reception.
All around them people were talking at once, with plenty of moans, sobs, screams, and expletives mixed in.
Barbara stood up and shook her head like a heavyweight contender who'd taken three too many shots to the chops. "Is everyone all right?" she asked, turning around to face the passengers. She glanced down at Neal's mangled body and slammed her hand over her mouth.
Brad Landry let out a low, soft groan, causing his wife to immediately begin screaming his name: "Brad? Brad! Brad! Are you okay?" Her voice scrolled up through the octaves as she shook him. Brad turned paler and paler until the man in the seat behind Tina grabbed her hand and told her to kindly stop trying to kill him. Whether the man was referring to himself or Brad was unclear.
Christopher unfastened his seatbelt and looked over his shoulder toward the other tram. "Do you think anyone got hurt?"
His mother had already unfastened her belt and joined him. "Honey, I don't see how they could not have."
The front end of the other tram looked better than Christopher would have expected—at least in terms of damage to the vehicle. There were huge dents, and the heavy wheels at the bottom of the car had been forced outward at an angle. Some smoke billowed from the bottom. Still, as far as he could see, the passengers were protected inside.
There was no sign of a body where the driver should have been, but a thick spray of crimson had splashed across the windshield.
"Everybody please be quiet!" Barbara shouted. "It's very important for everybody to remain calm!"
Miraculously, the tram went almost silent. Eddie staggered out of the driver's area, a heavy trickle of blood running down the side of his face. "Is everybody okay?" He immediately realized the irony of his question and crouched down next to Neal's body.
"Is he breathing?" Barbara asked. The far-from-natural angle of Neal's neck made the answer perfectly obvious, but she couldn't stop herself from asking.
Eddie pressed his fingers against Neal's flabby wrist and held them there for a few seconds. "No pulse. He's history."
There were several loud gasps from the tourists, even though it was unlikely that any of them had expected Neal to survive the impact.
The little girl who'd been sitting with her father and screaming a while earlier stared out the window. "What happens when the monsters come back?" she asked.
They didn't have long to wait to get the answer. The dark shapes began moving in again, slithering, crawling, or merely charging. They all focused on the second tram.
"They'll be fine...they'll be fine..." Christopher whispered to himself. The tram was badly dented, but the creatures still couldn't get inside. All they had to do was try not to lose their sanity while they waited for help to arrive.
The first true assailant was a humanoid beast that looked almost exactly the way Christopher had always envisioned an ogre. Admittedly, he'd never devoted much time to envisioning ogres, but this thing definitely fit the mental picture. The head was too small for the body, and the arms were as thick around as Neal Whistler's waistline. It pounded on the roof of the second tram with both fists.
It was joined by a ghost, a constantly shifting spectre that was almost as large as the ogre itself. It changed forms almost too quickly to identify them, but Christopher caught flashes of a pirate, a knight, a demon, a shrieking victim, and a seductress.
The ghost passed through the roof of the tram.
Christopher's mother grabbed his arm. Hard.
The tram suddenly seemed to be covered with a thick layer of frost where the ghost passed through. The ogre slammed its fist once more, and this time the roof cracked. It hooked massively thick fingers into the ruptured hull. With a grunt that could be heard from within the undamaged car, it pulled. The scream of tortured metal sent shivers through the onlookers. The monster tore the metal, opening the roof of the tram as if pulling the lid from a particularly stubborn can of sardines, and then reached inside and grabbed two screaming tourists from inside.
