Then again, maybe the presence had not meant to bring him out. Maybe it had brought him out by its change in momentum. It was now moving at him faster than before.
In a way, it all made him feel better. If the presence had used the dream, or whatever you wanted to call the vision, as a trick to stall him, that meant the presence needed to stall him.
“Yes,” Dr. Porter said out loud. Then he yelled. “You have a weakness! You had to stall me, because you can’t get here fast enough!” He went back to work with his pickaxe.
***
Once again, Dr. Porter had his secretary reschedule all of his appointments. He wondered if he would ever see clients again. He supposed if he did, it would be in some new manner. He would understand the wall people had completely. He would not have to work within those walls anymore. Instead, he would work from the perspective of the outside. He couldn’t predict what he would be once he broke through the tunnel. He knew it would change him. But he couldn’t predict what he would be like. He couldn’t predict what he would desire.
Now, it was midway through the afternoon in the world outside his tunnel. But he was not in that world. He stood inside a hole, its depth to the bottom of his knees, and he was continuously bombarding it with the pickaxe. His progress was faster now, but he had no way of knowing how long it would take to break through. He didn’t know the thickness of the tunnel walls.
There had been no more visions like he’d had last night, and that scared him. Why wasn’t the presence trying to slow him more? Of course, he was assuming that the presence had caused the vision in the first place, when maybe it hadn’t. It was yet another thing he couldn’t be sure of right now. He would know when he got to the other side.
The ever-approaching presence still scared him, but at the same time, he was high on the thought of what he was doing. He was deep inside himself, completely aware, moving toward knowledge that would dwarf the knowledge he’d had before.
Once again, the progress halted. Dr. Porter brought himself up.
***
Janet Pollard was afraid to go the bed Friday night. She didn’t want the anxiety nightmares of the night before, and she dreaded waking up with the sense. But she knew sleep was something she couldn’t avoid. The broken sleep of last night and the worrying as she slept seemed to have drained her.
Things were not well right now. Robert had informed her that Matt Craven, a senior at Pious, hadn’t shown up at school today. Robert hadn’t thought too much of it, until he was informed that Matt hadn’t come home last night either. Even then, Robert wrote it off. He told the worried faculty and even suggested to Matt’s parents that Matt had probably just taken off for a while. Of all the seniors, Matt had taken last Friday night’s loss the worst. Leaving, Robert thought, was probably just his way of dealing with it. He was probably just off somewhere nearby and would return before the weekend ended. Robert thought this explanation brought some calm to the situation. Janet thought Robert even believed it. She, though she didn’t say as much, didn’t believe it.
Janet told herself she was crazy, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t help but think that the missing teenager had something to do with what she sensed last night. Intuitively, she connected the two seemingly separate events.
Randy, who had not been himself since last Friday night, seemed to worsen with the news about Matt. He barely spoke when he came home after practice. He didn’t even eat that much. Then, when friends called on the phone, seeing if he wanted to hang out, Randy turned them down. Janet knew he felt responsible for Matt. He felt responsible for the whole damn high school. He would take no comfort right now. That might have been for the best, because Janet had little to offer. Even Toby, the one she was most inclined to protect, didn’t elicit her nurturing sense. She was too tired and too caught up in what was going on with her. All three of them went to bed before ten. Janet stayed up as late as she could, which was not much later, then went to bed too.
***
A light had come. It was more than the light he had brought in to work by in his tunnel. It was just the rays right now. The source was further down. Dr. Porter knew that the light contained the presence. He was running out of time. His only hope was that he was near the edge of the tunnel. There was no way of knowing that. The tunnel’s strength didn’t seem to yield any as he made his way through. Thus, the edge, the other side, might have been a few strikes away or it might have been miles away.
He might have turned back at this point, but he didn’t think that he could. He was an intelligent man, but he had never focused that intelligence on survival. He wouldn’t last on the run. Even if he did, he would always come back here. This place was natural to him now. He couldn’t deny its existence. He could come here easily, and he would not be able to resist it. Eventually, he would come back and the presence would be waiting. His only chance, if he had a chance at all, was to break through. So he continued to break the floor, as the light coming at him continued to grow.
***
There was the sense, and she was awake. This time, she didn’t remember what she had been dreaming. She didn’t remember, because there was no time to sit and reflect. Whatever she had sensed, she could still sense, and she knew it was looking at her.
Janet opened her eyes and raised her head. It was there, but just for an instant, and then before she had time to consider what was in the doorway, it was gone.
She gasped. She tried to gather her senses. That could not have been real. Nothing could move that fast, to be there one instant and gone the next. Maybe she hadn’t awakened, and it was just a dream.
But that was just fear. She wanted to believe that it was not real, because if the alternative was true, if it was real, there was nothing she could do about it anyway. She was too late.
She tried to go back to sleep, but couldn’t relax. It was out there. And yes, there was nothing she could do. Or was there? She could save herself. She could escape. If she tried to help her family, she would fail. It was too fast. But there was a chance she could make it on her own. But she couldn’t do that. It wasn’t even an option. The only thing to do was to make it not real, to tell herself it was a dream, and just believe that was true. But she couldn’t believe that for very long, because lying there, with her eyes shut, she could feel it looking at her again. She opened her eyes and leaned forward, but this time, it was even faster. She didn’t even see it, before it moved away.
She heard something. It was very light. Just something being moved around, not even loud enough to tell what that something was. She looked over at her sleeping husband. She considered waking him. But that was crazy, wasn’t it? Hadn’t he just been dealing, the day before, with the anxieties of others? Should she make him have to do that in the night too?
No, she would not. She would just have to confirm this for herself. She’d go out there and check, and then, once she was satisfied that nothing was there, she would just sit up. She’d sit up the rest of the night if she had to. There would be no more sleeping this time, not as worked up as she was.
She checked the alarm clock. It was 3:07. She’d lain down around 10:30. That was a little more than four and a half hours of sleep. That would be plenty to get her to morning. She got out of bed. She began to do what were now her routine searches. Again, she found all the doors to the house locked. All the windows she checked were also locked. She went to the hall that contained both of her sons’ rooms. Toby’s door was open. She looked inside that room and made out the shadow of him sleeping there. But as crazy as she was now, she was not satisfied with that. She actually crept inside his room and got up close enough that she could make out his face protruding from the top of the covers.
Back in the hall, she found that Randy’s door wasn’t open. She wondered if she could get inside without waking him. Maybe if she moved the door slowly, she thought.
This was beyond how crazy she wanted to let her self become. She’d taken pride in not being so overprotective that she violated the pr
ivacy of her sons. And it wasn’t like it was with Toby. Toby had left his door open, almost inviting her to come it. At least, that was what she was telling herself for now. Randy’s door was shut. It was a demand for her to allow him this private time.
Just once, she told herself. Just this once she would do this. She would disconfirm her fear and then never let it take her over like this again. Janet slowly turned the knob. She crept the door open a few inches. The sweet but terrible smell came to her. It was not unlike the smell of a fresh slab of meat, just after it had been defrosted. It was the scent of fresh death.
Janet thrust the door the rest of the way open. She could make out the shadow of her younger son lying on the bed. Had it not been for the smell, she might have been satisfied with that. But the scent told her that she should take note of the shape of his shadow. Randy was not just lying on that bed, contorted to the natural state sleep would take him. He had been laid out. Janet flipped on the light.
Dream? Oh yes, she thought it was. No doubt this was a nightmare she would soon wake up from. She hadn’t acted too late. She wasn’t at fault for disregarding the sense. She would soon open her eyes to the morning light. Toby had to go see Dr. Porter. When he got home, they would all go to the video store and rent a couple of flicks. She’d make popcorn. If Toby was healed by then, maybe he’d eat the popcorn with them. If not, no big deal. They’d still enjoy the movie, as a family. All she had to do was wake up.
Randy, or, as she wanted to think him, her dream Randy, was laid out and naked. His legs were spread open. His arms were above his head. His eyes were closed, and he wasn’t breathing. There was blood all over the place. Most of that blood had probably come from his chest, which was mostly gone. There were other places on his body where he had been ravaged, or at least bitten. Big chunks were missing from both of his thighs.
It was too much. Janet closed her eyes.
Something moved. She’d heard it. It wasn’t in this room. It had started in the hall and moved quickly. But Janet would not open her eyes. The noise was just part of the dream, and so were the next noises. A swoosh set off her husband’s screams. The sound of his agony was cut of abruptly. Then she heard movement again, fast, faster than human. It was behind her.
“Randy’s dead now, Mother,” Toby’s voice said. “I won’t feed on him anymore.”
Janet started to open her eyes but didn’t. No sense looking now. She just had to wait.
“It started after the barrier came down. I feed on living things. I’ve been sneaking out at night and catching animals: cats and dogs, rabbits and birds. And I found that they only tasted good while they were alive. And when I ate them they made me stronger. But my appetite increases.”
It made sense. At least, her waking up earlier this week made sense. It had been him, going out. But this didn’t matter. It was still just a dream.
“I fed on Matt Craven last night. I fed on Randy tonight. But, as I said, my appetite increases. I think I’m ready for some more.”
She felt her son’s finger run across her back. “And Dad’s already dead.”
The dream got worse. And she didn’t wake up.
Chapter 16
Daylight seeped through the blinds. Dr. Porter sat in his chair. Something very strange had happened. The light had grown until it filled his tunnel. He hadn’t been finished digging. His progress had not yet halted. But he had come out of the trance anyway, by no power of his own.
Dr. Porter tried to go back into the trance but could not. He was able to relax completely. He gave himself the suggestions, but for some reason, they had no impact. Confused, and a little tired, he decided to take a catnap. But when he stood up, he felt a burst of energy inside him that sat him back down.
The energy was strong, and he had come down hard, but there had been no pain. His mouth moved without him willing it.
“We have time before we leave,” he said out loud. “What questions do you have for me?”
At first, his shock wouldn’t let him speak. He didn’t feel anything inside him, yet something had forced him to sit down and something had made him talk. It made him talk again.
“I can read your thoughts. And I can answer by making you think. But such communication would only confuse you. You, as a human, are not used to communicating with an outside entity in such a manner.”
With that, as afraid of he was, Dr. Porter spoke his first question. “Then you are not possessing me?”
“No,” the entity made him respond. “Possession does occur. One of those you have interfered with, James, is possessed right now. It is lawful for a spirit like the one in him to do that. I am also a spirit. I exist in the place outside the tunnel, in a realm of all things. It is not lawful for me to experience human life. I am simply commanding your body from afar. I do not feel it. In what you must now do, as I command it, your body will suffer great damage. I will tell your body not to sense that damage as pain. You will not suffer, physically, until I am gone.”
Dr. Porter was fascinated at what this entity could do. “Then you must have a great understanding of how my body works.”
“No, such knowledge is not necessary for me. My rules are different from your laws of physics. I simply command your body to do something and it happens.”
There were now many questions in Dr. Porter’s head. He tried to answer on his own. He said, “Then you obey no laws. That would make you God.”
“No, I am not God as you know God. I am what humans have called an angel. And I do have my laws. They are much simpler than yours. You would find existence under my laws very boring.”
That was a strange irony to Dr. Porter. The more advanced an entity, the simpler the laws it obeyed. “Why?” he asked. “Why do I live within the laws? Why am I in the tunnel?”
The angel didn’t respond to the question verbally. Instead, Dr. Porter was given an image. Where his bed was, a table appeared. Two men sat at that table with a chessboard between them. The game had not yet begun. The man with the white pieces took a pawn and moved it clear to the other side of the board and used it to knock off the opposing pieces. Once all the black pieces were down, the man said, “I win.” Then the scene changed back into his unmade bed.
“Yes,” Dr. Porter said, understanding immediately. “Life without rules is like a game without rules. Boring. It’s the complexity of these rules that makes life interesting.” After thinking for a few seconds, he added, “You must be . . .” He stopped, not wanting to anger the angel.
But the angel proceeded as if Dr. Porter had finished. “Yes, I am very jealous of you. As I said, my rules make my existence boring. All I really have is to watch your kind. I am only allowed to influence you if you violate the tunnel walls, or if I am otherwise commanded to do so.”
Dr. Porter couldn’t tell if the angel was angry. But he feared that less now. “Then, when I was in the tunnel and felt the presence, and when I experienced my dead wife, that was all you just toying with me. You could have taken me at anytime. You didn’t need to scare me. You were just having fun.”
“It is allowed,” the angel responded. “And there was still time. Time is one of the laws common to both our realms. Of course, it does not restrain me as much as it does you. With me, it passes with little consequence. I grow old, but my body does not.”
“So God has time?” Dr. Porter abruptly asked.
“Yes,” the angel responded. “God, that is, the being you think of as God, has time. But God is not limited by it. That is all I can tell you on that. The one you call God is not totally within my comprehension.”
So there was more. Even for the angel, there was more that could be searched out. There was more to understand.
“I want to leave this realm. I want to die.”
“And you will, when our work is finished. But it is still not time. So ask me other questions if you’d like.”
Dr. Porter thought of his questions from before, what he had wanted to know. “The clients,” he finally said. “Why did t
hey have their barriers?”
The angel’s response was nearly instantaneous. “Most people, as you know, do not have the extra barriers. They are born fit to contain a soul. But there are some who are conceived in a certain way that attracts evil forces to them. Because of what their parents were, they are fit to be invested with evil.”
Dr. Porter interrupted and the spirit allowed it. “Then the barrier is there to prevent certain kinds of evil from being manifested in their lives.”
“Yes, evil that would seem supernatural to your realm. Evil that is not supposed to be in your realm, but is supplied by renegade forces.”
Dr. Porter was interested in what the renegade forces were, but he had other questions that were pushing his curiosity harder.
“Then why should those like my clients be born at all?”
“Because, as I have shown you, life in your realm, with your laws, is a very special thing. It is a coveted thing. I would love to have the opportunity to experience it, as would most spirits. There are limited numbers of how many lives the one you call God will allow, so not one will ever be wasted, no matter what limitations must be placed on it from the start.”
That might have been the most amazing thing of all to Dr. Porter. How often did humans see life as insignificant? How often were those seen as unfit disregarded or discarded? How easy had it been for humans to waste lives, to take lives, in the name of progress? All of the sudden, Dr. Porter felt the will to live himself. But he knew that would not happen.
“You have more questions,” the angel said. “And I have more answers. For now, I will make you rest. Then you will learn more as we go on.”
Dr. Porter was made to sleep.
***
The angel woke him in the afternoon. It told Dr. Porter to prepare himself for going out. He took care of the mess he was now. He shaved and showered for the first time in days. He dressed professionally in a gray suit. Then the angel started issuing the commands to his body. It had him gather a few things, like a chef’s knife from the kitchen. Then it took him to the garage and made him start his car.
Scribner Horror Bundle: Four Horror Novels by Joshua Scribner Page 45
