by Amy Cross
“So that's your explanation?” Don asks finally, with a hint of disbelief in his eyes. “Jessica Barton has been abducted by a demon named... Chanciechaunie?”
“People believed that stuff in the old days,” Matt replies. “Maybe we should at least consider the possibility.”
“People also believed the world was flat.”
“I'm a man of science,” Matt continues, “but this scream has got me reconsidering a few things.”
Don turns and looks over at the window for a moment, as the first rays of dawn continue to spread slowly across the town square, bringing light to the search once again. “We can't spend another day looking, can we?” he asks finally. “It doesn't feel possible.”
“We're going to find her,” Matt replies, taking another shot of whiskey and then signaling Mary for a third. “Soon. We have to.”
“Are we?” Don turns back to him. “How many times have you told people that since this all started? A thousand? 'Cause I know it's all I've been sayin' all day and all night, and now look at me. I look like a goddamn idiot. Every square inch of this town has been checked, re-checked and triple-checked. You know as well as I do that there are no nooks or crannies we've forgotten. You go to one end of town, the scream seems to be coming from the other. Sometimes it's like... it's right behind you, almost as if you're gonna turn around and see it right there. Other times, it seems to be up high, floatin' on the breeze. And then sometimes, it's like -”
“We finished,” says Robert Leary as he and a couple of other men arrive from outside. Their faces are exhausted, and their eyes show signs of hopelessness. “We just... That's four complete sweeps of the town now.”
“We have to keep looking,” Matt replies.
“But if -”
“We have to keep looking!” he says firmly, getting to his feet with real anger in his voice. “We can't just give up, we can't -”
“Hold up,” Don says, grabbing his arm. “Easy there, tiger. Let's not start fighting amongst ourselves, okay? We need to keep things civil.”
“Give up if you want,” Matt tells Robert, before turning to the others. “All of you. If you want to go home and try to sleep through this godawful noise, then be my guest. No-one's forcing you to be here.”
“We want to find her,” Clifford Tanner replies wearily, “it's just... There's nowhere for her to be. We could keep searching for another day, but we still wouldn't find her.”
“Maybe it's just going to go on forever,” adds Rebecca Jones. “Maybe we have to... I don't know, evacuate or something.”
“Or at least call in help from out of town,” suggests someone else.
“The phones are down,” Don reminds them. “Internet too. If this thing is still goin' on tomorrow morning, we'll send someone by car to get help. But it won't be still goin' on in the morning, because we're not gonna let it, are we?” He waits for someone, anyone, to agree with him. “Are we?” he asks again, more firmly this time.
“No,” come a few muttered replies, none of them sounding particularly confident.
Turning, Don sees that Matt is holding the next glass of whiskey, although he hasn't drunk any yet.
“Go on,” he says, patting Matt's shoulder again. “It'll do you good.”
“There's only one thing that'll do me any good,” Matt replies, staring into the glass as he listens to the sound of the scream in the distance. “Getting rid of that... thing!”
Sighing, Don sits back down, and the stool creaks slightly under his weight. He opens his mouth to say something, but again the words seem to stick. For a man who has always been well known around Pine Ridge for his ability to talk the hind-legs of a donkey, the sensation of helplessness is completely new. He wants to tell Matt, to tell everyone, that the whole situation is going to be okay, but he knows those words would sound so weak and hollow, and that they'd open him up to ridicule. Taking another sip of whiskey, he tries to empty his mind of all doubt and fear, but after a moment he realizes all that's left is the scream.
“Shut up,” Susan Etterman says suddenly, sitting a little further along the bar as she nurses a cup of coffee. With tears in her eyes, she turns to look at the window. “Shut up!” she shouts. “Just shut the hell up!”
“Susan -” Don begins.
“No!” she says firmly, climbing off her stool and hurrying to the exit. Pulling the door open, she makes her way out onto the sidewalk and stops for a moment, looking around as the scream continues to fill the air. “Shut up!” she screams at the top of her voice. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”
“Come on,” Don says, shuffling after her, “let's go back inside and -”
“Shut up!” she shouts, sobbing as she steps out into the road. Putting her hands over her ears, she drops to her knees. “I can't take it anymore, why won't it just stop?”
“Doc!” Don calls out, looking back into the bar. “Need some help out here!”
“Shut up,” Susan whimpers, as tears flow down her face. “Just... make it... shut... the hell... up! I can't take it anymore, it's like it's scratching at the inside of my mind!”
“Can you give her something?” Don asks as Matt emerges from the bar. “A sedative, maybe?”
“I'm not a fan of giving sedatives,” he replies. “Not unless they're strictly necessary.”
“God,” says Felicity Horner, standing nearby, “why won't it stop? How much longer can it go on for?”
“Not long,” Don tells her. “We -”
“How do you know that?” Felicity shouts, stepping toward him angrily. “How the hell do you know anything, Don? For God's sake, for all you know, it might be going to last forever!”
“It's not going to last forever,” he replies. “That's an absurd idea.”
“Shut up!” Susan screams, before breaking into a series of sobs.
“She's right,” Robert Leary says, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk and putting his head in his hands. “I'm done. It's driving me crazy. I can't take it anymore! I swear, I can't even think straight with all of this going on.”
“None of us can,” Don tells him, “but we have to stay strong, just a little while longer. We're gonna get to the bottom of this. For Jessica's sake.”
“I almost wish she could just die,” says Judy Cluny, standing a little further back and looking up at the night sky. Her squint is worse now; every few seconds she squeezes her left eye so tight, the lids are getting sore and red, but she can't help herself. “The poor thing must be in so much pain, I can't handle it any longer. Just thinking about what might be happening to her...” A tear runs down her cheek. “It's not right.”
“Everyone just calm down,” Don says, turning to look at the slowly-gathering crowd. “I get it, we're all on edge, but that doesn't mean we should start turning on each other.”
“People are getting sick,” Matt tells him. “The mental strain is too much, they can't take it anymore.”
“They just need to be stronger for a little while,” Don replies. “It's the same for everyone.”
“Shut up,” Susan sobs, with her face in her hands. “Please, just make it stop. I tried pushing cotton into my ears, but it didn't help, I could still hear her!”
“Come inside,” Matt tells her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You've been through enough today. Everyone who feels like this, come inside and we'll try to find a way to relax you. I can prescribe something to help you sleep. Maybe... Maybe it's time to break open the sedatives after all.”
“Sleep?” Felicity spits at him. “How the hell can anyone sleep at a time like this?”
“Staying up is a risk to your health,” Matt tells her. “There'll still be plenty of us left to launch the next wave of the search, even if a lot of you feel like you have to go home. We can work in shifts.”
“It's never going to end,” she replies, her eyes burning with fear. “Don't you realize that now? It's never, ever going to stop! This scream is just going to go on and on, and one by one we're all going to lose our god
damn minds! It doesn't matter how many times you tell us all that we'll find her, or that it can't last much longer! You've been saying that all day and all night and none of it has been true! Face it, this scream won't stop until we're all crazy, and then it'll keep on anyway!”
“Can't someone just make it go away?” Susan pleads, staring up at the sky. “God, anyone, I don't care who, just... Someone, please make it stop!”
“I'll give you something,” Matt says, stepping over to Susan. “Something to help your nerves until we -”
“Don't say it!” she shouts, turning to him. “I swear to God, if you say one more time that we're going to find her, I will hurt you!”
“Calm down,” Don tells her. “We're all in the same boat here. No-one wants to -”
“I can't take it anymore!” shouts Felicity Hornmaker, with her hands over her ears. “I can't, please, I just can't...”
Suddenly, from inside the bar, there's the sound of glass being shattered. As Don and Matt turn to look, Mary comes stumbling out with blood pouring from a wound on her arm.
“It's Malcolm Stone,” she says, wincing as she holds her arm up and blood trickles down to the elbow. “He just lost it completely, started -”
Before she can finish, there's the sound of more glass breaking inside, along with angry shouts.
“This is getting out of hand,” Matt says, taking a step toward the building. After a moment, he turns to Don. “Maybe you were right. Maybe sedatives are the best idea for those who -”
Suddenly a gunshot rings out, accompanied by more cries from inside the bar.
“What the hell is going on in there?” Don shouts, hurrying to the door just as a couple of men emerge, dragging Davey Hunter with them.
“He took a shot at his brother Kenny!” one of the men shouts. “He missed, but the guy's losing his mind! This whole damn thing is getting out of control!”
“Go to hell!” Davey shouts, struggling to get free. “How can you stand to listen to that thing? I'm getting out of here. I'm taking my truck and I'm getting as far away from this town as possible, and I'm not coming back until that sound has stopped!”
“Let's just calm down,” Don says with a sigh. “I think -”
“Don't tell us to calm down!” Susan screams, pushing him so hard in the chest that he trips and falls back, landing square on his ass. “Don't you dare! You were telling us twenty four goddamn hours ago that you'd find Jessica Barton soon, and now look at us! Listen to that poor girl! Listen to her scream!”
“Susan -”
“Listen!” she shouts.
For a moment they all stand in silence, listening as the scream continues to fill the air all around them. The whole town is out now, and there are people over on the other side of the dark square, emerging from one building and going into another as they continue the search. From their shuffling gaits, however, it's clear that they're just going through the motions, that they don't really expect to find anything. Nearby, sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, Judy Cluny has her head in her hands as she openly sobs.
And all the while, the scream continues.
“I can't take it,” Susan whimpers, dropping to her knees. “I can't, I just can't...”
“Everybody calm down,” Don says after a moment. “I swear to you, we're going to -”
“Don't say it,” Matt tells him firmly.
“But -”
“Don't. Just... don't.”
Pausing, Don seems genuinely lost for words. As the sound of more fighting breaks out in the bar, and as several other people start sobbing nearby, Don turns and looks across the town square, and then up to the brightening morning sky. He opens his mouth to say something, but finally he holds back. He wants to tell them all that things will be okay, that they'll find Jessica Barton and that the scream will stop at any moment, but he's said those words so many times now, they've lost all meaning, even to him. All he can do is listen as the scream continues.
In fact, if anything, it seems to be getting louder.
“We'll find her,” he mutters finally, because he can't think of anything else to say. “I swear to God, we'll find her.”
And the scream continues.
Chapter Thirty-four
Jessica's anguished scream continues to fill the room as her chair tilts back, crashing down into a puddle of her blood. She tries desperately to get her wrists free from the ropes that have begun to dig into her flesh, but all she can do is continue to scream as, a few feet away, the vast, ever-shifting dark shape feeds on the priest's body, tearing his soul from its flesh and purring as fresh blood splatters down onto the concrete floor.
Within just a couple of minutes, the beast is done. Slowly, he turns and makes his way back over to Jessica, setting her chair back up and then leaning close to her screaming face. Laughing, he reveals row upon row of needle-like teeth, stretching all the way down into the depths of his throat.
Epilogue
Six months later
“Jesus Christ,” Bryony says with a laugh, “will you turn that awful music down?”
“It's amazing music,” Tom replies, keeping his eyes on the dusty road and spotting a town up ahead. “I think I see it. What's the name of the place again?”
“Uh...” Checking the map, Bryony takes a moment to work out where they are. “Pine Ridge. Sounds boring, but at least there's a gas station, which is really all we need.”
“Fill her up and get out?”
“Fill her up and get out,” she replies, smiling as the car reaches the edge of town. “The last thing I want is to spend time in some kind of backwoods hick town. They're probably all, like, retarded.”
“So where's this gas station?” he asks, peering out the window. “Place looks goddamn dead to me.”
“It's on the other side of town,” she tells him. “Looks like the whole town is just a few blocks, you have to go over the town square. It'll be like going to one of those safari parks where you sit in a car and see weird creatures out the window. We'll get a view of this rundown little town and then -” She stops suddenly, looking out the side window. “Hey, turn the music off.”
“No chance.”
“I'm serious! Don't you hear that?” Reaching over, she turns the dial down, and immediately they both hear the sound of a woman screaming somewhere outside the car.
“Woah!” Tom says, hitting the brakes and bringing them to a full stop. “What the hell is this place? Some kind of ghost town?”
“No,” she replies cautiously, “there are people up ahead, see? That must be the town square. Like in Back to the Future, you know?”
“I'm getting us out of here,” he says, as the scream continues. “This place is insane.”
“Come on, it's probably nothing.” She squints, so she can see the people in the distance. “They're just normal people, see? It looks like they're just going about their usual business.” She watches as a middle-aged woman emerges from one of the buildings and stops to talk to a passerby. “Maybe they're having some kind of weird festival, or an open-air movie thing, something like that. Come on, we need the gas. Or would you rather take that detour? It'll just be another crappy little town, they're all basically identical.” She waits for an answer, before grinning as she nudges his arm. “Seriously, Tom. This place just got interesting.”
“Fine,” he mutters, easing the car forward, “but for the record, I want to make it clear that this place creeps me the hell out.”
“It actually looks kind of sweet,” Bryony replies as they reach the town square, where bunting is hanging from some of the buildings and people look to be getting on with things despite the horrific, pained scream that continues to fill the air. She looks around for a movie screen, or for some kind of festival banner, but she slowly starts to frown as she realizes that there's nothing to indicate why there's a loud scream everywhere.
“What. The. Hell.” Turning to Bryony, Tom seems lost for words. “Seriously?”
“Pull over,” she replies.
>
“I don't think that's a good idea...”
“There's a diner,” she tells him. “I'm hungry. Pull over, I want to ask what the hell is going on! Don't you think it's kind of cool?”
“This place is seriously weird,” he replies as he stops the car. “It's like... It's like the scream is everywhere.”
Opening the door on her side, Bryony climbs out and onto the sidewalk. She takes a few steps toward the diner and then stops, turning to look across the town square. People genuinely seem to be getting on with things, completely ignoring the horrified scream. She tells herself it might be some kind of modern art installation, although she finds it kind of hard to believe that people in the middle of nowhere would be interested in something like that. As far as she can see, Pine Ridge is the most boring, normal town in the world.
Apart from the scream, obviously.
“Hi!” says a friendly voice nearby.
Turning, Bryony sees a woman wiping some tables down, outside the diner.
“Can I help you guys with something?” the woman asks with a smile.
“What...” Bryony pauses for a moment, trying to get her thoughts in order as the scream continues. “What's going on here?”
“Going on?” The woman frowns, before a smile returns to her face. “Oh, you mean all this?” She gestures toward the bunting. “Oh, we've just been getting ready for June 12th. That's the day every year when we celebrate the founding of our town, one hundred and twenty-five years ago. It's basically an excuse for a big party. People like to dress up, re-enact key moments, hold speeches, that sort of thing.”
“Uh-huh,” Bryony replies. “And... what about the...”
The woman waits for her to finish.
“Well, I mean... What about the sound?” Bryony continues. “What's going on with that?”
