Forever Dark

by Gary Martin

  “Imagine puking this stuff up over a balcony, on a crowd of unsuspecting people. They wouldn’t know what hit them. They’d think it was a special effect or something,” Jacob says and laughs some more.

  “Jacob, you’ve got something wrong with your brain,” Terrell says, laughing too.

  11

  After a few more drinks, my head is beginning to spin, even though I’ve been taking small sips. I turn to Jacob. His mouth isn’t glowing quite as much as earlier but it’s still got a little bit of blue going on.

  “How are we going to get to Joe’s?” I ask him.

  He laughs and shrugs his shoulders. I then turn to Terrell. His mouth is still glowing like a blue furnace.

  “Not got a clue, John. Maybe we start walking?” Terrell says.

  “Miss Brown said it was about ten miles from the school. That’d make it, what, twelve, thirteen miles from here?” I say.

  “We wouldn’t get there until about midnight if we walked. We need some sort of transport,” Terrell says, then looks at Jacob. “I’ve never seen you ride one, but do you have a bicycle, or three bicycles, Jacob?”

  Jacob laughs again.

  “No. What the fuck would I want with one of those?” he says.

  “To get to Joe’s house,” Terrell replies.

  “Who the fuck is Joe? And why the fuck are we going to his house? A party?”

  Terrell looks at me and sighs.

  “I think we’ve lost him, John.”

  Jacob stands up, begins to walk and promptly falls over the coffee table, knocking off all the bottles onto the carpet. The lids were on, luckily. Though I doubt you’d really notice the mess on this carpet. Then in one swift, smooth movement, he jumps back to his feet.

  “Fuck a fucking duck,” he says slowly.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “In the garage. My father had a project. He wouldn’t tell me what it was. After he died, mother finally showed me. It was a gift for when I was old enough. It’s a two-hundred-year-old car! The fucking thing runs on some sort of highly flammable liquid called petroleum. It’s basically a four wheeled fucking bomb!” he says.

  Terrell stares at him and Jacob stares back with a massive blue grin.

  “What about it?” Terrell asks sheepishly.

  “We’ll just drive the fucking thing to Joe’s,” Jacob says.

  “But you’re drunk as a lord, Jacob. That is the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”

  “I’ve said stupider things.”

  I look at Terrell and then to Jacob. “I’ve only known you for a couple of days, Jacob, but that is definitely the stupidest thing you’ve said,” I say.

  Jacob’s smile doesn’t go away.

  “Does it actually run?” Terrell asks, with what seems like a grudging interest.

  “It certainly does. It has a fuel converter. Runs on anything. But dad wanted to keep it as close to its original state as possible. So, it’s still full of petroleum. Stinks like a bastard though.”

  “There’s no harm in having a look, is there?” Terrell says, looking at me and shrugging.

  “Follow me,” Jacob says and heads out of the lounge. We follow him out of the front door and through the messy, overgrown garden to the garage. He struggles to turn the handle on the rusty garage door. He starts using both hands, and after a few seconds it gives. He then crouches down and with a loud creak, he lifts the door. It stops at just over half open.

  “Wait here,” Jacob says and ducks under the door. I look into the pitch black of the garage. I can hear some rustling, then something metallic hitting the garage floor. Suddenly, after a couple of flashes, the garage is full of light.

  “What do you think?” Jacob says.

  I stare at the object. It’s dark blue and curvy. Not a single sharp angle as far as I can tell. I can’t decide if it’s very ugly or quite cute.

  “I don’t know what to think,” I say, “I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it.”

  “It’s a bug. Or a ladybird. Or maybe a praying mantis. Actually, probably not that one.”

  “What does that V and W stand for on the front?” Terrell asks.

  “Not sure. Probably something like… Very Wild?” Jacob says.

  “That’s crap. How about… Virile Wanker?” Terrell says.

  “Victorious Winkies?” I say.

  “Enough of this nonsense,” Jacob says, “come and have a look inside.”

  He opens the passenger side door and pulls the latch on the shoulder of the seat. It clunks forward, and Terrell climbs into the back seat.

  “Not much space back here,” he says and hits his head on the back window. Jacob pushes the passenger seat back into position.

  “Takes a seat, John,” Jacob says. I get into the car and watch Jacob as he walks around the front and gets into the driver’s seat.

  “We’re not actually going anywhere, are we?” I ask everyone.

  Jacob looks at me and smiles.

  “No, don’t be silly. I just want to see if it starts after all these years.”

  Terrell pokes his head between the front seats. “Do you actually know how to start it?” he asks.

  Jacob starts randomly pressing anything that resembles a button. After a minute or so, he shrugs his shoulders.

  “Sorry. Can’t remember.” He then looks at a strange flap above the front window and pulls it down. A key then drops onto Jacob’s lap.

  “Aha! I remember now.” He puts the key somewhere I can’t see and twists it. There’s a horrible screech and the car jerks forward, knocking the garage door off its hinges. It clatters down on top of the car, and we all duck our heads.

  I raise my head and look out of the front window. The car is now mainly outside.

  “Sorry about that,” Jacob says.

  “That’s okay. Let’s just get it back into the garage before your mother finds out,” Terrell says and falls back into the back seat, hitting his head on the rear window again.

  “Listen...,” Jacob says.

  “Listen to what?” I ask, then squint my eyes and concentrate on the low rumbling noise coming from in front of us.

  Jacob grabs the lever that’s between us, presses a button on the side, then looks at me with the most serious expression I’ve seen on him.

  “Fuck it,” he says, then pushes the lever forward, and presses something with his right leg. The vehicle lurches forward and quickly we’re at the end of the driveway and onto the road.

  “Oh fuck, Jacob! What are you doing?” Terrell shouts from behind me. Jacob ignores him.

  “John, where does Joe live?” Jacob asks me, while staring straight ahead. His hands constantly turning the wheel one way, then spinning it violently, trying to stay in control, and the car keeps veering from one side of the road to the other.

  I quickly grab the piece of paper from my pocket, and unfold it.

  “17 Trent Road,” I shout.

  “Are we actually doing this?” Terrell shouts from behind me. I turn to him, “I guess we are,” I say.

  “Jacob, there’s never any point saying anything to you. You never listen and do it anyway. I don’t know why I bother,” he says and sits back in his seat, once again, hitting his head on the glass.

  “Fuck it,” he then shouts.

  Jacob finally settles on a side of the road, and his hands are moving less frantically on the wheel.

  “I think I’m getting the hang of this now.”

  “Thank shit you don’t live on a busy road,” Terrell says.

  “I’m now very glad we didn’t move after dad died,” Jacob says.

  “Do we need to go on any main roads? We’re not exactly inconspicuous. How fast does this thing go?” I ask Jacob.

  Jacob looks at the speed dial.

  “Its fastest speed is one hundred and twenty. We can probably get away with missing some roads and driving across a field or two.”

  “A hundred and twenty what? If it’s kilometres an hour we’re fucked. That’s slower t
han my gran drives through town. How fast are you going now?” Terrell asks Jacob.

  “It doesn’t seem to want to go faster than sixty,” Jacob replies. “But it doesn’t have an autopilot, so I don’t really want to risk going any faster, what with being drunk an’ all.”

  “That’s embarrassing. The fuzz will pull us over and laugh in our faces,” Terrell says and sits back in his seat, again hitting his head.

  “Stupid fucking car! Who would design a car with a back window that slopes down so much that you constantly hit your head?”

  “Long dead car designers,” I say, unhelpfully.

  “Well, I’m glad they’re dead. They were clearly idiots.”

  After a while of driving slowly through winding country lanes and being flipped off by every car that is forced to slow down to our speed before overtaking, Jacob slows the car down even more and pulls over in a lay-by that has a half open, rotten wooden gate.

  “John, if I’m right about the address, on the other side of that field and through another gate is the row of houses Joe lives at,” Jacob says.

  “So, we’re going to walk from here?” I ask.

  “Thank fuck,” Terrell says.

  “If only life was that simple,” Jacobs says and puts his right leg down a few times and revs the engine. He looks at me very seriously, then turns to Terrell. He clicks the drive lever forward and, through the windscreen, I see the rotten gate explode into pieces as the car rams through it. Then, we’re in the field.

  The car is bouncing and jumping around and feels in danger of tipping over at the speed we’re going.

  “Slow down, for fuck’s sake Jacob!” Terrell shouts from the back. I just hold on to the handle above the door, and the one in front of me and hope Jacob knows what he’s doing. Which he clearly doesn’t. But I have to try and think that. Jacob’s response to Terrell berating him is to try and speed up, and I can barely hold on. The headlights of this ancient monstrosity don’t shine half as brightly as a modern car does and with my entire body bouncing up and down on the seat, by the time I spot it, it’s too late.

  The front of the car instantly drops and the seatbelt holding me in place suddenly clicks hard and my body stops fast, hurting my ribs and banging my head forward. There’s a crushing of metal, and the windscreen cracks. The car holds itself in a vertical position in the ditch for what seems like an age, but finally, the arse end continues with the car’s previous momentum. The roof then caves in, and everything comes to a stop.

  I’m upside down. The seatbelt, while hurting me, is holding me in place. I look at Jacob. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but I think he’s unconscious. I push on his shoulder.

  “Jacob, Jacob,” I say. No response. I turn to Terrell.

  “I told you this was a bad idea,” he says.

  “Are you okay?” I ask him.

  “I think so. I’m a bit trapped. Can you see if you can get out?”

  I try to open the door but the crushed roof has locked it in place.

  “I’m going to have to smash the window, I think. Do you have anything hard?”

  “I left my bag at Jacob’s. Afraid not,” Terrell says.

  “Shit,” I say, realising I’m probably going to have to use my fist.

  “What’s that smell?” Terrell asks.

  In my panic, I hadn’t noticed it. A sharp, chemical smell that is starting to make me feel nauseous. There is a sudden hiss and the engine compartment bursts into flames.

  “John, smash the fucking window!” Terrell shouts.

  I hit it five times and, finally, it smashes. I unclick myself and crawl out, cutting my stomach on the broken glass. I turn and crawl back in.

  “Grab my hand,” I tell Terrell.

  “Get Jacob out first,” Terrell says.

  “Okay,” I say and quickly press Jacob’s seatbelt release. His unconscious body falls down onto the crumpled roof, and I grab his hands and pull him from the wreckage.

  I stand up and look at the mess. The flames from the engine are getting into the car and the upholstery is beginning to go up. I crawl back into the passenger window.

  “I’m still trapped, John,” Terrell shouts, panic high in his voice.

  “Grab my hand, I’ll try and pull you free.”

  Terrell grabs my hands with both of his, and I try to pull him out. He screams and I know it’s not working.

  “My foot is trapped under the passenger seat.”

  The heat from the flames feel like they’re burning the side of my head. I quickly grab the handle on the shoulder of the passenger seat and it slides forward. Terrell then moves forward and I’m able to pull him out. We both stand up and run to Jacob. I grab his right arm, and Terrell grabs his left, and we drag him a good ten metres away from the crash site.

  I look back, and the car is now an inferno.

  “Oh dear. Jacob’s mum is going to be furious,” Terrell says.

  Jacob then sits up holding his head. “Who set the fire?” he asks.

  “Well ... technically, you did,” Terrell replies.

  “I don’t remember setting a fire.”

  “You crashed your dad’s car. It then set on fire. Cars aren’t supposed to set on fire, Jacob,” Terrell says.

  I stare at the burning wreck, mesmerised by the flames. Jacob then grabs hold of my arm and I pull him up to a standing position. He then stares at it in silence. Suddenly, he shouts, “Oh shit! My mother’s going to kill me!”

  The car then explodes, sending flaming metal parts in all directions. We all jump to the ground as a wave of heat hits us.

  “I told you it was a bomb on wheels,” Jacob says quietly, as he stands back up.

  12

  We stand watching the different pieces of car burn for about half an hour. Only when the last bit of flame extinguishes itself, does anyone try to move.

  “Come on. Let’s go home,” I say.

  “No John. That will render everything that has happened so far this evening pointless,” Jacob says, quite soberly.

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure I have the stomach for it now. If he’s not coming back to school, I can just forget about him. Then at least I win the moral high ground,” I say.

  “You don’t win anything, John,” Terrell says. “You’ll just have a constant nagging doubt. You won’t know why he sold out Jelvus. You won’t know if he set you up. At least if you confront him—even if he doesn’t say anything, at least you’ll have some sort of closure.”

  “Yeah, what Terrell said. You’ll know that you’ll never know, rather than not knowing that you’ll never know,” Jacob says, then rubs the side of his head.

  “Are you okay?” I ask Jacob.

  “Fine. Got a sore head, that’s all. If you drink a lot, crash a car and also get knocked unconscious, you’d have the same,” he says.

  “Come on, let’s head to Joe’s,” Terrell says. “His house must be that way.”

  He points in the only direction where I can see the vaguest amount of light. It looks a couple of kilometres away, which means it’s closer than Jacob’s house. But it also means we’ll be getting further away from Jacob’s house. And I really don’t want to walk that far.

  “No, seriously, let’s go back. I don’t care anymore,” I say, lying.

  “The decision has been taken out of your hands, John. We’re going this way now, whether you want to or not,” Jacob says and begins walking toward the faint light. Terrell shrugs his shoulders and follows him. I stand still and watch as they become silhouettes, starting to disappear into the blackness. Suddenly, I feel very alone. A cold chill runs down my spine. I’m not sure if it’s fear or the cold of the night; but here I am, standing in the middle of this huge field, all by myself. I’m a fucking idiot.

  “Wait up,” I shout and run after them. They stop and wait for me to arrive.

  “Hurry up, John, time’s a wastin’,” Jacob says as I get beside him.

  The further we get into the field, the boggier the terrain gets. Every
footstep is now a squelch of wet mud and a fight to not lose my shoes in it. It’s taking forever.

  “This is getting ridiculous. Soon we’re going to be stuck,” I say to no one in particular.

  “We’re nearly there, just beyond those small trees,” Jacob says and points ahead.

  I can just about see the top windows of the three terraced houses in the distance, but the bottom of them is blocked from view by the silhouettes of the odd-looking trees. I stop in my tracks and stare at them; they’re moving.

  “Guys ...” I say, “those aren’t trees.”

  Jacob and Terrell stop dead as well.

  “If they’re not trees, what the fuck are they?” Terrell asks.

  “Shh. Listen, what’s that noise,” I say.

  From the strange looking trees comes a faint animal sound. Mooing. Shit. We’re about to walk through a herd of cows in the dark.

  “It’s only a few cows. They’re perfectly safe,” Jacob says.

  “Are you sure about that? They’re massive. Anyway, how do you know?” Terrell asks, sounding sceptical.

  “Have you ever heard of anyone getting killed by a cow? Never. They’re docile things, with stupid faces and a huge set of tits,” Jacob replies.

  “I guess not,” Terrell says.

  “What about bulls,” I say.

  Terrell turns to me, his eyes suddenly wide. “Now those fuckers do have a death count,” he says.

  “There won’t be any bulls in this field,” Jacob says confidently.

  “Suddenly you’re a fucking bovine expert are you, Jacob? If there’s a horny bull in with those cows, we’re properly fucked,” Terrell says, on the verge of shouting it.

  “Probably literally,” Jacob says.

  “Oh, shut up. I’m sick of it. Everything you’ve done so far today has got us further and further in the shit. If there is a bull over there, I’m going to use you as a human shield. Who’ll be fucked then?”

  Terrell seems like he may be close to a break down, or maybe it’s just a tantrum. I don’t know him well enough to know for sure either way, but I may have to intervene before the situation gets any more heated.

  “Steady on there, guys. This situation is more my fault than Jacob’s. No one would be here if it wasn’t for me,” I say.