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Into Darkness (The Guardian Book 2)

Page 20

by Jason Davis


  She took a deep breath in, swallowing the gag from smelling her own vomit. She closed her eyes and leaned forward, her legs wobbling as she pushed up. Deep breath. Keep going. Don’t focus on the smell. Finally, she was up. She could feel the room spinning around her, but it had already started to slow. She was up and wouldn’t fall back down this time. Not in front of Bobby. He would never see her that drunk again.

  “Hun?”

  Her head cleared a little as she took a small step forward. Before she could lose her balance, she took another, then another. When the room threatened to swirl around her again, she had to stop. The chair seemed so far away, it was hard to see. She had been walking toward it, but where did it go?

  She could feel her balance shifting again and shuffled her foot back to steady herself before she fell.

  “Baby, come out from behind that chair.”

  Nothing. Only the uneasy silence answered her.

  “Get out here right now before I have to come back there and pull you out.”

  When she saw something move, her face flushed with warmth. Her baby… She was going to see her baby again. He hadn’t left her. She knew he would come back to her.

  “Come on.” She took another slow step toward the chair. “You can come out, hun. Mommy’s here. It’s safe.”

  She made it to the chair, reaching out when she stumbled. Her stomach threatened to empty again, but she was sure there wasn’t anything left. Instead, it twitched, as if a worm were inside her, occasionally shaking violently. She shook off the feeling and walked behind the chair. Empty.

  “It’s not nice to hide from Mommy,” she said, holding back tears. “Come on. I need you. Come back to me.” The room stayed quiet, her voice sounding like it disappeared as soon as she spoke. “Please, come back to me.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Tag. You’re it,” came a voice, but she couldn’t tell from where. It sounded so much like her son’s, but it was all around her and there was something…wrong with it. It was like there was an echo, but not. It was hollow.

  She spun around, trying to see where the voice came from, but there was nothing. She couldn’t see anyone. Wait… Where were the couch, the coffee table, the TV stand? There was nothing in the room. Everything around her was gone.

  She turned back to look at the chair. Gone. She was alone, standing in an endless sea of black.

  “I missed you, Mommy.”

  She heard the voice, knowing it was her son, but she never got the chance to turn around before she felt herself start to fall.

  And then she screamed.

  * * * *

  Brady never felt like he had fit in to the Standard way of living. In fact, that had always been his credo. His life wasn’t cut out to be Standard material. He was meant for more than this. He had grown up in this little town, only leaving for short trips, such as his daily commute to the community college fifteen miles north.

  This town just wasn’t him. Sure, he looked like nearly everyone else. He was just under six feet tall; had a few extra pounds around the middle that, no matter how much he starved himself, always felt like there was more there than the day before; his blond hair never lay right, so no matter how much effort he put into it, it was always a mess; and no matter how hard he tried, he could never grow a beard, his baby face always confusing people about his age. Not that he was into drinking, but whenever he did try to buy the occasional beer, he was always carded, probably thinking his ID was fake.

  Maybe that was just his insecurities. When your name is Brady…and yes, it was because his parents had been big fans of the show…you were always on edge. He was a joke just waiting to happen. His parents were great, but were also always there. He still lived with them, still enjoying the comforts of living in his room in the basement.

  Yet his life felt like it was stuck there. He was twenty-one, working on the four-year plan of junior college, and worked in a grocery store less than ten minutes away from town. He wasn’t even sure how it stayed open, considering the high prices. Was this really all he had to look forward to in life?

  It could get even better. Once he got out of junior college, he could always work at one of the local factories for a few bucks more an hour and still be living at home, like a loser.

  With a heavy sigh, Brady set the large wooden box on the grass. At least his parents lived on the edge of town so there weren’t as many houses nearby.

  “Hey, now, be careful with that,” he heard his dad say.

  Brady turned to see the taller, thinner man lumbering down the back stairs. His dad had started going bald just a year before. Rather than watch the rest of it go, he began shaving his head. It was weird, but he had to admit his dad looked younger without all the white hair. Now he just needed to do away with the beard. It reminded Brady too much of Santa Clause and just looked wrong on him.

  “I am.”

  “Good. It cost me an arm and a leg to have the lens fixed last time. I’ve had that telescope since I was your age, and it will be yours to use with your own kid someday.”

  Brady shook his head. Yeah, I need to meet a girl who finds me the least bit interesting first. “Like that’ll ever happen.”

  “It will,” his dad said as he squatted down and unlatched the first of the four sides of the box. As he finished with the last latch, there was an audible release of the pressure, allowing his dad to lift the top, revealing a telescope that still amazed Brady. For fifteen years, his dad and he had used it to look up at the moon.

  He still remembered the first time. He had to have been five years old, as that had been when they moved into the new house. His father had brought him outside, set up the long lens, then motioned Brady over. He told him, “Don’t touch anything. Just look.” And Brady had…seeing the moon. He could see the craters, which was mind-blowing to his five-year-old eyes. His dad had told him it was filled with cheese and the astronauts went up there to bring it back. He then told him it was blue cheese and, just between the two of them, it tasted like puke.

  “You want to set it up tonight?” his dad asked as he set the lid down on the freshly mowed grass.

  “Sure. I’m not sure we’re going to see much, though. Look at all those clouds.” Brady looked up at the sky.

  “Yeah, I know, but we can always try.”

  Brady was sure there was another reason they were trying tonight. His dad had made it a tradition to come out every full moon. The only times they had missed were in the bitter cold and during storms. They would still try on a cloudy night, although they usually gave up on finding the moon and started looking for other things. It was sometimes just a brief glimpse of the neighbors, although Brady still blushed when his dad poked fun at him for catching Mr. and Mrs. Sanderson naked in their bedroom. He hadn’t been trying to see that. In fact, he wished he hadn’t seen it and never wanted to see anything like it again.

  But most cloudy nights, they wouldn’t find anything to watch. It was more about spending time together. Brady had figured that out years ago. During his teenage years, he had been a real pain in his dad’s ass about it, just wanting to be watching his favorite shows inside.

  Brady quickly went to work setting up the telescope. The ground was soft, but the spikes at the bottom of the legs dug into the dirt for sturdy supports. The tripod they used was thick, wooden, and something Brady was certain his dad or grandfather had made long ago. He was used to the strange mechanism that operated the crank of the lens and, within minutes, he had it up and tilted toward the sky.

  “Ready,” he said, stepping back. His dad always did the fine tuning.

  He started working at the controls. There were ones that would focus on the moon, while others adjusted it from side to side to zero in on the rotation. His dad did his thing, then stepped back, looking confused. He looked at Brady, then back at the telescope.

  “That’s odd.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t see anything.”

  “I told you it was too cloud
y.”

  “No. I mean, I can’t see anything. Not even the clouds.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Brady stepped up to the side lens and bent down so his eye was close to it, but didn’t touch. He had years to practice. He closed his left eye, focusing his dominant eye to stare through the cascading lens that magnified the stars…

  Nothing.

  “Huh,” Brady said, stepping back.

  He adjusted the telescope, figuring maybe there was just a really dark patch in the clouds. He noticed his dad hadn’t zoomed in too much yet, so there should be enough light to make out the traces, but as he looked again, he still couldn’t see anything.

  “Here. Let me look again.”

  Brady felt his dad standing right behind him, so he moved to the side, looking up. There was nothing up there. That wasn’t possible, but as he stared, he couldn’t see stars or clouds. There was nothing but black above him. It wasn’t the dark gray tone you usually saw. This was black, no color stretching to the horizon. There was nothing up there.

  His dad scanned the sky, then stepped back. His mouth hung open as he looked at Brady, reminding him of someone who had just seen something they couldn’t accept. That shock that came when you found out Santa Clause was real, or Elvira had just appeared at your front door.

  “I think maybe we should pack up and go back inside,” his dad said softly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know.” Brady started breaking down the stand and looked at his father, who still stared at the sky. “I really don't know.”

  “Should we call someone?”

  His dad looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Who?”

  “I don’t know. NASA?”

  His dad laughed. “And tell them what? The sky above our home town is missing?”

  It was a nervous laugh. Brady joined in, helping to cut through the tension.

  His dad gestured to the house. “But maybe we’ll go in and watch the news. Maybe they’re saying something.”

  Brady nodded as he fastened the last latch and picked up the box. He followed his dad inside, away from the pitch black sky.

  Part III

  Time wears on us all. It drags us down, though we may not feel it. It is the burden that adds weight to our steps, slowing them more than the pull of gravity. Time is heavier than gravity. In the end, it is time that places us beneath the earth as it eventually wins against our eternal fight against it.

  The creature once thought he had won against time when he left the surface light by burrowing below. In some ways, he had beat the human concept of death by going to his own grave.

  His. How had he become to think of himself with gender? Before, there had been no thought of gender. If he wanted to reproduce, it just happened.

  It must be the boy, the one he had gone to devour but had somehow pulled him into its being. Before, the creature had only been partly in this world, but when he joined, he had found that part of him had been missing. In his slumbered state, he had not known. Now he was whole, hungry, but still so tired.

  Sleep alluded him. He could feel something tugging at him, not allowing it. It had started with the boy, but there was now something else. It got stronger as this new thing called time passed by. He didn't know how long since the boy had come to him, but he felt it now as it passed. His hunger grew, but he just wanted to sleep.

  Then the pull could no longer be avoided. A new voice called out to him, fully dragging him from his place of solitude. It pulled him up. Fully awake, he was hungry, but the boy’s thoughts mixed with his own, desiring something more. The boy wanted...revenge.

  CHAPTER 22

  It had been a long time since he had slept without dreaming. Nightmares had become an evening ritual, so Rob wasn't sure how he felt about sleeping so well. Sure, it had been a long day and he had gotten no sleep the night before. He had long days and nights before, stretches of time when there was no opportunity to sleep, so last night was nothing new. He didn’t think he would sleep a whole night with no interruptions again. But he had… He had come home and gone right to bed, but he now felt guilty that he had slept so well. Sure, they had found some of the kids, but there were still others missing, not to mention finding the body of the chief. He had no right to be sleeping, his son safe, when other parents didn’t know where their children were.

  He knew it was unfair, but as he had just come out of the peaceful slumber, he found himself not caring. His son was in his bed, his wife slept beside him, and they were all safe. Why should he care if others out there weren't as lucky? He was free of the nightmares, free of the worry.

  When he had climbed into bed, he expected the nightmares. Even if there weren’t new ones, he expected one or two of the old ones. He had quite the list tormenting him, like a playlist. Nightmares in a queue. Between the meth lab fire, the burning bodies, that creature, spiders, those “z” things he still refused to name, his dreams had an endless list of boogeymen it liked to pick from regularly. After the last two days, he expected something new to be added to that list. So when he woke up, the rays of light just beginning to peek through the window, he was amazed it was his bladder that had awoken him.

  Robyn was still asleep next to him, which wasn’t a huge shock. She’d grown accustomed to sleeping through his thrashing, and he was always surprised she still wanted to share a bed with him. He knew many other wives out there would not, and she paid the price. He’d seen bruises on her body, and while she wouldn’t admit it to him, he knew she probably had been hit more than once by him fighting some internal demon. That alone should have her using the guest bedroom.

  On top of that, she still hadn’t forgiven him for taking their son up into the woods the previous night. When they had gotten home, she gave him the cold shoulder. He was quick to grab his pillow and head to the guest room. He had a long day. He wasn’t going to waste the energy arguing or begging for forgiveness. When she saw him in the hallway, she shook her head, grabbed his pillow from him, and threw it back on their bed. He had taken the hint and climbed under the covers, quickly falling asleep.

  He didn’t know what he would ever do without her. She kept him sane, which wasn’t easy. It seemed like all the crazy shit always seemed to happen around them. She had once told him they were blessed in a very odd way. Something to do with an angel looking out for them. He told her if they did have a guardian angel, he must have one sick sense of humor.

  But that angel must help her sleep through the screaming, the kicking, the turning, the snoring. She slept through it all.

  He eased himself out of bed and silently walked down the hall to the bathroom. He guessed it was probably a little past seven because the sun wasn’t too high yet. The house was quiet. Too quiet. It was the kind of silence where you felt like you would wake everyone just by breathing too hard.

  Yet he couldn’t help himself. With all the running around, the non-stop rummaging through the woods, he felt like he was coated in some kind of grime. It didn’t matter if the dirt was in his head or not. It was time for the longest shower in history. After emptying his bladder, he cranked the hot water, stepped in, and let it blast him.

  * * * *

  Rob stood in the bathroom, looking at his reflection in the mirror. The water had felt good. His tired muscles had ached more than he realized and the hot steam had loosened them up. Now he just had to try and stay that way. Last thing he needed was any more cramping.

  The man looking back at him needed a lot less of many things. Less wrinkles creasing his face, less gray hair that seemed to multiply daily…and more hair on his receding hair line. Maybe that was why he avoided making eye contact with the man in the mirror so often. That man was getting old.

  He quickly dried himself, then hurried out of the steam-filled room, his senses perking up in the hallway. Coffee. Robyn must have gotten up while he was in the shower. In a way, he was a little sad she didn’t come join him, it had been a while since they’d been in the shower together, bu
t he knew he’d be thankful for the coffee.

  Had their marriage started to fall apart? Were they losing their romance, the love they had once shared with one another?

  He thought of himself standing in the shower, feeling the warm bliss of the water cascading down his sore muscles. His eyes closed as it washed over his face. A hand, long, sleek, and feminine, reached around from behind, running across his chest. It went lower. He turned around, smiling, a twinkle in his eye happy for the morning visit. He stopped when he saw the woman from the flower store naked in front of him. She pushed herself forward, forcing her breasts toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

  He blinked away the sudden desire as he stood in the upstairs hallway. His boxer shorts bulged, and he had to adjust to hide the sudden rising desire. Just what was going on with him lately?

  The smell of coffee helped bring him back to the present. He could hear the squeaky springs alerting him that his son must be getting out of bed.

  Rob hurried to the stairway, not wanting to see Jake on his way to the bathroom. Rob wasn’t sure if his son would notice the hump in his pants, but he wasn’t ready to explain it to him. It was probably a sure bet Jake already knew about the birds and the bees, but Rob wasn’t ready to know about it just yet, and he didn’t want to have to explain morning wood. How he had escaped talking about it for this many years was a miracle.

  “Okay. I’ll tell him when he gets out of the shower,” he heard from the kitchen. Robyn’s voice sounded cheery this morning. He wasn’t sure if it was false or if she had truly started to forgive him for last night. He guessed he would find out soon enough. “Okay, bye bye now. Thank you.”

 

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