Out There: A Rural Horror Story

by Cademon Bishop

  Harvey first stopped by the Brookside Garden, hoping to untangle his dream. With Sal on a leash, the two sailed through the maze of gravel and birch. Sal’s tongue bobbed as he trotted along Harvey’s side. Harvey followed the path and, feared it would go one forever, but the center clearing came into view.

  Sunlight shone upon the stone disk in the center of the maze. Harvey let go of Sal’s leash. Sal lay in the grass between two of the park benches that surrounded the disk and sniffed at some dead leaves. Harvey studied the pattern on the disk. Engraved in the stone were circles, and each circle had a thick dot placed along it. He tried lifting the disk. It budged a little, but he lost the strength, it fell with a dull echo.

  There’s gotta be something under it, he thought. Harvey ambled into the forest and found a hefty stick. Sal watched Harvey. His dream led him here and he wasn’t about to let that go. He lifted the disk and stuck the stick under it as he let go. He looked along its rim and noticed there were two dates etched onto it. One far away from him was from 20 years ago, the other one was tomorrow.

  What the hell was going to happen tomorrow?

  Harvey brushed the thought off and spun the disk on its side. Under the disk was a hole. He peeked over the edge and couldn’t see a bottom; it was only a short tube of concrete. Harvey stumbled back as the ground vibrated beneath him. Glowing blue cracks crept around the grass near the hole, like frozen pieces of lightning. Sal stood up and sniffed at the cracks.

  A pillar of white light erupted from the hole, blinding the two of them. Sal scampered behind a bench. Harvey tried to crab walk back but hit the back of his head against a tree. The light produced a deep hum that shook the ground beneath them. Harvey turned away and covered his eyes with both hands. Blaring light blanketed every tree.

  The low hum turned violent as the ground vibrated. A radiant, warm tingle coated Harvey’s body. He felt his shirt make flag like ripples as wind exploded from the pillar of light. The wind hissed passed his ears and blew back fallen tree limbs and dead leaves in a chattering mess. Sal barked, nearly screaming, as the wind increased its speed. A high pitch noise rose from the hole. Like the sirens of a passing ambulance, it winds up, then echoed in the air.

  The bash white behind Harvey’s eyelids faded away, and the wind tapered down. He opened his eyes and made a visor out of his hands. The world around him was much darker than before. Sal failed to stand as his shaking paws glued him to the ground.

  A puddle of water replaced the hole. Harvey stood up and surveyed the clearing. The rose bushes that encased the opening were wind rattled, leaves and petals shot back yards away in a floral burst. He looked up. A hole was blown out of the thick blanket of clouds, revealing a pale white light above.

  Houses blurred past their right as Harvey drove down South Central. Sal kept on sniffing something in the back seat. At a stoplight, Harvey turned around. Sal had his nose wedged in the box of Salem's.

  “Hey Sal, wanna smoke?” Harvey’s eyes widened as he looked at the worn-down houses. Wait, you dumbass, he thought, maybe his past owners smoked! Harvey turned the car around and drove towards the dilapidated barn.

  The two walked back to the pond where they first met. The sun warmed the area to the point that Harvey broke a sweat as he hiked through the knee-high grass field. The forest was like a sudden tidal wave of trees that rose above the oat grass shores. He patted his thigh, and the dog crept closer through the field.

  Harvey slipped out a cigarette and held it to Sal’s face, “Can you tell me where this smell is?” Sal nodded up the tobacco then paused. Without warning, Sal chomped into the cigarette, and lead the two of them into the forest. The dog sniffed the ground like a canine metal detector.

  The chirp of the afternoon birds swooned symphonies around them. Harvey struggled to maneuver through the overgrowth. Tall straw gripped to the back of his pants like the arms of an infant. Sal was a tank through the forest. His robust paws pressed surefooted into the brush. Harvey slowed as he saw what Sal was leading him to.

  Vines sprawled and sunshine cooed against the tattered rooftop. An abandoned house lay ahead of them. The thicket of branches and trees tapered away, leading to a cracked stone clearing. The house was coated in peeling hazelnut paint. Moss and mold highlighted the edges of wood planks, adding finishing touches to the stagnant portrait.

  The blond carpet squished to Harveys footfalls. The echo of birds faded into obscurity as they crept in. Glancing at his feet, he saw blush red droplets on the carpet, “Sal what is th-” Sal stumbled down the main hall and turned towards a sun-lined doorway. Harvey found him glancing up at a window in a dilapidated kitchen. The light highlighted Sal’s dry nose. A picture rested, tilted on the wall.

  Something was off about the image.

  It was a picture of Sal, but that was the problem—it was only Sal. Harvey looked out into the main hall again and noticed that every photo was devoid of people. It was like someone had cut out away any notion of life.

  Harvey surveyed the kitchen and felt his heart drop as he noticed a dust-filled dog bowl beside the doorway. Engraved on the bowl was the word, Abe. Harvey felt over the letters, soaking the memories. They sat in beautiful science, watching dust tango in the air from the window. “A.. Abe…” Harvey felt the weight of the words as they slugged from his mouth. He watched Abe’s head dip out of the window light, and into the dark of the room. White light glinted along Abe’s back, exposing a spray of gray hairs. For the first time, he could see bumps of the dog’s spine. Harvey’s knees popped as he bent down, and he pressed the side of Abe’s head into his chest. He could see a silent tear drift along the side of Abe’s snout. Harvey sat there brushed Abe under the light of the kitchen window.

  Harvey kept the dog bowl and photograph tucked under his elbow as they walked out. He could see the pastel purple sky dance into fades of sunset orange beyond the tree branches. “Come on,” Harvey patted his leg, his voice was tear strung. Abe stumbled out of the front door. His face had its usual stonewall glaze.

  Harvey looked towards the sky as they hiked back. The hole they knocked out of the clouds was still there. Harvey stopped walking and squinted at it, swearing he saw something fly out.

  Side A Track 11

  Boy Blue and the Man in the Moon

  “Can you first tell me why?” Lara asked. Her father, Danny, sat beside her at the table. Denver gave them some privacy.

  “I had no choice; I had no control of anything.” Danny looked at her with sincere eyes. It was still hard for her to see him. He looked unreal.

  Lara looked out the kitchen window. The daisy-white light from the lamppost covred her face. “Then why did ya have no choice?” she found it easier to talk to him like this. “I’m happy with ya here, but… why?”

  Danny stood up from the yellow glow of the hanging dining room light, “I… look, this is gonna seem strange to say. We got something special runnin’ in our blood, like a power.”

  Lara turned to face him. She felt like she was talking to a ghost, both his words and his presence were unbelievable, “I’m sorry, what?”

  “We…” Danny sighed. “It’s gonna be hard to believe but trust me. This thing has been passed down like a disease. I don’t know where it started. What I know is that my grandfather had it then it was passed down to his first son, my father passed it down to me, and then I passed it down to you. I don’t think you ever met your grandpa, but he used to have the skill to change water temperature. It’s strange, but every version of it is. Yes, I know it’s insane, but hear me out. My ability is teleportation; I can shoot somewhere miles away in second—only problem is that I do it in my sleep.”

  Lara lowered her eyebrows. “How did you sleep anywhere?”

  “When I was younger, it was okay. It would only be a few feet at night. My father became concerned that I we never would learn what I had, but it got worse when I grew older. I became more stressed, and I would start shooting across the house every night. My father thought I was just sleep
walkin’, but there was one day where I scared him to death by shooting into the living room while he was in the kitchen.

  “When I met your mother, it died down… She grounded me. It kicked off again when the damned rain began to pour. We got into fights when you were a baby. Me teleporting somewhere else only made her more mad, and it made me shoot off even further. Soon I ended up wakin’ up in trees and would spend an hour walking home.”

  Lara was about to say something but paused to digest what he was saying. “Did you tell her why it was all happening?” She spoke with every bit of her attention fixed on her father.

  “She wouldn’t believe me. It all ended when I woke up in the Kin’s house. In the hospital, I became so scared I would never get to see ya again, I stayed up two days straight trying to escape that fear. And then fear took me… it stole me from you. I went to sleep and woke up in a field with only a hospital gown. The concussion I got from hitting that bathtub at the kins house still rang through me. I tried to walk back but couldn’t get far enough. I walked for a day straight, went to sleep starving, and woke up near Greensburg.

  “A man working at a gas station finally helped me. I told him that I need to get back to Joselean Springs, and he told me that town ain’t on any map. I pleaded to him that it was real, so after I got cleaned up at his house and we drove there.” Danny took in a long sigh, “Sure enough, the town was gone. I even went to the hill our house stood on.” He sat back by the dining room table. Lara saw a tear in his eye. “I tried for a year to go back to the town to find you, but it never worked. I had to let go and try to take control of what I had… alcohol didn’t work, and so I sought to find peace.

  “I tried goin’ to church for the first time in a while but I… I don’t know; it never did much for me. I still had so much I wanted to know. I searched through books on philosophy at the library, then things clicked… My teleportin’ just stopped for a while. I thought of you every night, how much pain I caused, if your mom was okay. Soon I began shooting all over the place again. I wasn’t sure why. I found peace, and peace is what makes it die down. Then it all clicked together I was getting closer to town each time… eventually, I shot back, I controlled myself.”

  “Why didn’t you just come out and meet me?” Lara walked back to the dining room table and sat beside him. “What made you wait out there for hours.”

  “I was afraid you would have this image that I was this horrible person, that I left you for a purpose. I searched at home a few days ago, but you weren’t there. I got a truck from an old friend and drove for hours on end. When I saw you, I didn’t know if I could handle seeing you again. I saw that thing outside your house. I thought it was a someone you knew, but I lost it when I saw it creep around. As soon as I heard you scream and it grab you, I knew I had to protect you from whatever it was.” Danny glanced at the blood flooded living room carpet over Lara’s shoulder. “I’m assumin’ I got it pretty good.”

  Lara grinned back, “Ya sure did.”

  Danny tapped her wrist, “Now, I have a theory to what weird ability you might have. You probably don’t remember this, but when you were younger, your grandfather died. After his death, you kept on saying that he was still here. One day we all took a photo and the second you grabbed it you said it shocked you. We were shocked in a different kinda way. The photo had grandpa in it again. It was like you could touch some other world where he was. I feel like your power has something to do with that… you think you have something special?”

  Disbelief glazed Lara’s face. She collected her thoughts and sat on the wooden chair beside her father, “There’s this thing that has happened, but a lot of weird things have happed this past week, so I can’t be sure of it.”

  “Let’s hear it.”

  “There’s been a couple of moments. Blue sparks’ come out of my hands, and I go somewhere else. It’s only happened twice, and I don’t really know what to think about it.”

  “There we go! That ain’t somethin’ people normally do, now is it?”

  “No…”

  Danny put a hand on Lara’s shoulders, “Now that I’m back, I want to be here for you as much as I can. Do you think I can stay to help you control whatever you have? If you don’t want to learn about it, I understand but I just-”

  Lara cut off Danny with a hug, “Sure.”

  — — —

  Lara saw Althea’s hair in full gray in her dream that night. Althea lay alone in her cabin, lulling under a thin blanket. Lara stepped closer, the dirty floorboard creaking out from under her. Althea’s skin sagged. Lara bent down to examine the woman, leaning in to hear her breath. She heard nothing but the choir of crickets and the whirl of wind and leaned in closer. She heard a noise just when she could make out Althea’s breath.

  “Hey.” Althea chimed; eyes wide.

  “Jesus Christ,” Lara felt the bolt of her heartbeat. “I thought you were dead.”

  “Not quite,” Althea grinned. “Not quite yet… soon, though. Pull up a chair, my legs too weak to walk.” Lara did as told.

  Lara looked lost as she observed the cabin. “Where’s the man and your child?”

  “My girl grew up, went to a beautiful far-off place called Lexington. My man’s outside, he doesn’t like to see me in this state. Time scares em’.” Althea pulled the blanket around herself and closed her eyes. “I’m just sittin’ here waitin’ to die.” She said playfully. “That’s the curse with what he gave me, you know? The curse to see. I see everythin’ now, even talk to angels beyond death. I’m more than a person.”

  “More than a person?” Lara repeated and knelt beside Althea.

  “Mhh, hmm. He done did that. I can’t fully die cause’ of it. My soul will run across the land… I plan on meetin’ you. Not like this, but in spirit. I think that’s my purpose right now. To bring you round. You’re somethin’ special too.” Althea took in a painful breath. “Can you lean in a little?” Lara leaned. Althea pressed an old yet delicate finger on Lara’s forehead. Lara witnessed another image.

  A bright red glow lit the center of town. She had never seen rain this catastrophic. The white mask of a large being bobbed over the rooftops—It was looking for her.

  The image shifted to butch’s gas station. There was something to horrifying to imagine on her left—a void which her conciseness blanketed in black. Both the inside and outside lights made heartbeat strobes. Lara flicked in and out of existence with the fluorescents.

  Back and forth, back and forth.

  A sound resembling a voice chopped in a fan, whirled around her as she shot back and forth. Althea let her live through the image like the set of a play, rewinding it each time Lara made a wrong decision. A person stood in the flickering lights outside of butch’s gas station. A person Lara was now ready to face.

  Althea lifted a finger off Lara’s head, shooting Lara out of the memory. Lara was about to plead for more time to practice, but Althea’s hand fell. In Althea’s last moments, Lara stood up, glanced out in the window, and saw the man outside. The man stared at the moon, then back down to Lara.

  Lara awoke as Althea passed away.

  — — —

  The next morning Lara found her father two feet off the couch. She and Denver stood in front of the open dining-room window eating through bowls of cheap fruity cereal. The scent of the morning dew filled the kitchen. She told him everything her dad said of her passed down ability.

  “When am I gonna meet your friend Butch?” Denver asked as he washed his bowl.

  It was noon when they drove towards Butch’s house. Before Lara could step out of the car, she saw Butch waddling down the front steps.

  “Hey, and HEY,” Butch’s eyes widened as he saw Denver, “Is this the man ya talkin’ about?”

  Lara rolled her eyes, “Yes, this Denver, Denver this is Butch.”

  “Well, hey Denver!” Butch raised a hand; Denver shook.

  “It’s about time I meet ya,” Denver followed Butches gesture in.

  “Lar
a, ya left your big ol’ pistol last time ya here,” Butch pointed towards the table.

  Lara walked over to the table and examined the two boxes of bullets beside the guns.

  “OH, you didn’t have to-”

  “Lara, it’s fine. They sell bullets stupid cheap down at that gun store on East Broadway, I thought you would like to test it out again.” Butch clicked on the gas stove and poured chicken and dumplings into a pot. The dumplings slid out in a tan, gray sludge, however once heated, they melted into a smooth yellow broth. Lara and Denver helped set the table.

  “So how did you meet Lara?” Denver asked as Butch and Lara dug into their bowls.

  Butch produced a plaid handkerchief from his overalls pocket and wiped it across his mouth. “She stumbled into my gas station last week with uhh-”

  “Dian,” Lara said. “You remember that thing I told you about where we got crushed by the side of the road?”

  Denver split a chunk of dumping with his spoon and then took a bite, “The thing with the shadow?”

  “Yeah, that,” Butch said. “Anyway, she done shown up while I was taking care of things in the back, and ever since then she would visit me. Lara, you don’t know how grateful I am to have you around here really… it’s a real pain bein’ stuck here all alone.”

  Denver and Lara stood out in the front yard and took turns shooting side by side. Lara gripped the FBI pistol, Denver the model 41. This time Lara felt a self-aware as she fired. When she first shot last week, all her focus was towards the gun barrel. Now the barrel felt as important as picking up a pencil. Denver was having a hell of a time. Butch would continue to bring more and more bottles out from inside the house.

  Lara stopped for and felt off. The bottles kept on coming, seemingly out of nowhere. She tried to count the total: eight, ten, twelve, sixteen—BANG-BANG-BANG-BANG-twenty. Denver would shoot them all down, then Butch would retreat into the house and pull back four more empty beer bottles and line them up on the bullet battered log. Shiny brown alcohol carcasses. Was he saving all of this? Did he just not have room in the trash? The glass piled up like a glossy lump of dirt.