Darkness on the Edge of Town (15 page)

“Nobody is shooting anybody,” I yelled. “Let’s all calm the hell down. Right fucking now.”

“Stop it, please,” Olivia cried. “What are you doing?”

“Shit is whack,” T observed.

I ignored them both. “Put it away, Drew. Come on, dude. There’s no need for this.”

Drew’s aim turned to me. “Put yours away first.”

“Like hell I will.”

“Your choice, Robbie.” His aim didn’t waver. His hands no longer shook. The barrel of his gun looked very large and round, and it was full of darkness.

“Stop it,” Olivia screamed again. “What is wrong with you people?”

“YO!”

We all turned. T stared at us with an expression of bewildered amusement. He shook his head and smiled.

“Every one of you motherfuckers are tripping. Ain’t none of you remember what we said before? It’s that stuff out there—the motherfucking dark. It’s fucking with your heads, ya’ll. Know what I’m saying? It wants us to do this shit. It wants us to kill each other. Shit ain’t right.”

“Word,” Mario agreed. “Shit is fucking seriously whacked.”

We all stared at them in stunned silence. Then Clay said, “Do any of you boys speak English?”

“We are speaking English, dog,” T said. “You just
ain’t listening. Now let’s get this shit over with. The darkness is fucking with us. I say we fuck it right back.”

“He’s right,” I said, and lowered my gun. After a moment, Drew did the same. Russ hesitated, eyeing Anna suspiciously. Then he put his pistol away as well and retrieved his flashlight.

“Sorry,” he muttered, but it was unclear who he was apologizing to.

Clutching his stomach, Clevon turned away and vomited his candy bar into the weeds. Everyone stepped away from him. Mad Mike wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Anna?” I stepped toward her, my hands outstretched to show that they were empty. “Put the knife away.”

She glared at me with tears in her eyes. Blood streamed down her forearms. It looked strange in the dim light. Suddenly, Anna turned and fled back toward the strip mall.

“You’ll all be sorry,” she shrieked. “Mark my words. You’ll be sorry!”

Olivia called after her to come back, but Cranston told the teacher to let her go.

“It’s better anyway,” Clay said. “Before we were unlucky thirteen. Now we’re an even dozen.”

“Not if you count them dogs,” Irish pointed out.

Clay shrugged. “They’re just dogs…
dog
. Did I say that right?”

T’s friends laughed as if this was the funniest thing in the world.

“You learning,” Irish said. “There might be hope for you yet,
dog
.”

Clay grinned, then spat another stream of tobacco juice. The dogs continued baying.

“Can’t you shut them up?” Russ asked. “They’re making my head hurt.”

“I thought they were just worked up over your fight,” Drew explained, “but something else must have them spooked. Their bark is different, too. Don’t sound like they do when they’re tracking a rabbit.”

“They sound scared,” Clay said.

“It’s that.” I pointed into the darkness. “They sense the same thing we do.”

“Maybe they’re smarter than we are,” Clevon whispered. “After all, they don’t seem inclined to get any closer to it.”

“If you want to go,” I told him, “then go now. That goes for the rest of you. If anybody else wants to leave, do it now. I won’t think any less of you. But you all see what’s happening. It’s just going to get worse. If we don’t do something soon, it might be too late.”

“I’m staying,” Drew said. “But I’ve got to be honest. I’m still not sure this will help us get a handle on our situation.”

“Maybe not,” I admitted, “but it’s a start. It’s something.”

We strode to the edge of the barrier and gathered around the symbol in the dirt. The dogs refused to go any farther. Drew and Clay had to grip the leashes tightly to keep them from running away. The dogs strained against them and whined.

While we were still huddled together, I asked once more if everyone was sure they wanted to go through with it. Figured I’d give them one last chance. They all nodded, signaling that they wanted to stay. A few seemed more scared now that we were actually at the dark’s edge, but they didn’t back down. We pulled out the ropes and tied a length around each of our waists,
making sure the knots were tight. I hadn’t accounted for various waistlines and stuff, but we kept about two feet of slack between each of us.

“We can go twenty-four feet max,” I said.

“That ain’t far,” Stan the Man said.

“It’s far enough. If something is going to happen to us in there, I imagine it will happen right away. Me and Russ and my girlfriend watched some firemen drive into it out on 711, and they started screaming right away. So if we make it the full twenty-four feet, we’ll know we can go farther next time. Maybe try it with a vehicle or something.”

Stan the Man shrugged. “Sounds stupid to me.”

I sighed, trying to control my temper. “Then why are you doing it?”

“Because T said we got to. Why you doing it?”

“Because I want to help. I want to do something—anything.”

“But why?”

I paused before answering him. “Because nobody else is. Somebody has to.”

“So let’s do it already, man,” Cranston said, “before we talk ourselves out of it.”

“Okay.” I took a deep breath and exhaled. “Who’s going first?”

Before they could answer, a twig snapped. We all spun around and shined our flashlights back at the strip mall. I figured it was Anna returning—maybe to apologize or looking for more trouble—but Dez stepped into the beams, shielding his eyes with one hand.

“Hey,” he called. “Listen for a second. You can’t go any farther! You really can’t.”

“Look who’s back,” Clevon said, rolling his eyes “What’s he want now?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Russ muttered. “We don’t have time for this shit.”

“Be nice,” Olivia said. “He can’t help the way he is. If anything, we should be watching after him.”

“Screw that,” Clay said. “We got enough problems.”

“Go on home,” I told Dez, speaking calmly and slowly, as if he were a little kid. “We’re okay. Don’t worry about us. We’re not going to go far. We just want to try an experiment.”

“Experiments are bad.”

“No, they’re not,” I reasoned. “Look at all the good things in life that have been the result of an experiment.”

Dez shook his head. “The Black Lodge men tried all kinds of experiments and look what happened. There was a Philadelphia experiment. The Havenbrook experiment. Mount Saint Helens and Mount Shasta were both experiments. South America. That incident in the Pacific during World War Two.”

We glanced at one another in confusion and shrugged.

“Although,” Dez continued, “some of those didn’t happen on our world, so maybe they didn’t happen at all. It’s hard to say sometimes. If something happens on another Earth but didn’t happen here, then did it really happen? If another you dies but you’re still alive, then what does that mean? It makes my head feel funny if I think about it for too long.”

“Anybody know what he’s talking about?” Cranston asked. “Because I’m lost, man.”

“I do,” Clevon said. “At least part of it—Black Lodge. It’s a conspiracy-theory thing. There’s all kinds of stuff about them on the web. They’re supposedly some kind of black-ops division. An international paramilitary
group that deals with the paranormal. At first they were American. Then they fell under the auspices of the United Nations. And then, finally, they supposedly branched off on their own.”

“Yeah,” Russ agreed. “I’ve read about that, too. The same people who believe in them also believe that the royal family are lizard people and that the New World Order controls everything and that FEMA has death camps scattered across the United States and that 9/11 was an inside job.”

“9/11
was
an inside job,” Drew said. “Our government did it. First step toward turning us into a communist state.”

“Do you really believe that?” Olivia asked.

Drew nodded. “Watch the footage. Ain’t no way those planes did all that damage. And it was a missile that hit the Pentagon.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Russ said, sighing. “People believe in this stuff because they need a reason to be scared. They need something to focus their fears on. There’s no such thing as the NWO or Black Lodge. It’s all bull crap.”

Mario elbowed Stan the Man and whispered, “You hear this crazy shit?”

“Motherfuckers be tripping,” Stan the Man agreed.

“Listen,” Dez said, interrupting them all. “You can hear the darkness breathing.”

I shivered. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with a desire to flee—convinced that my idea would never work.

“He’s confused,” Olivia whispered. “This situation can’t have been easy on him.”

“Confused, my ass,” T said. “Motherfucker be—”

“Tripping,” Clay finished, eliciting another round of laughter from the homeboys.

Dez shuffled closer. His movements were timid, and he looked like he was ready to cry again. He glanced down at the runes and then back up at me.

“Hush,” Olivia whispered. “You guys are hurting his feelings. Have some compassion.”

I started to walk toward him but forgot about the ropes until I felt them tug at my waist. I held out my hand instead.

“Look,” I said, keeping my voice calm, “this is important. We
have
to try this. I know you’re scared of the darkness. So are we.”

“Yes,” Dez agreed, “but I’m scared of it for a different reason than you are. Like everyone else, you’ve been scared of the darkness since you were a baby. But you don’t know why. Not really. I do. I’m scared of the dark because I know what it is. That’s why I wrote the words. I used up twelve whole cans of salt, too. It doesn’t like salt.”

He pointed at the symbol in the dirt.

“You made those?” Russ grunted. “Did you spray paint the ones out on the highway, too?”

I started to speak but then remembered that Russ hadn’t overheard Dez tell me that earlier. He’d been farther ahead with the rest of the group.

Dez nodded. “And behind the gas station and up on the hill above the high school. Four of them. That kept it out. Then I put little ones between them, at different places. I used a lot of salt.”

“You didn’t happen to take all the shaving cream, too, did you?” Cranston asked.

Dez frowned. “No. That’s just silly.”

“So,” Clevon said, “why did you do this again?”

“Because,” Dez answered impatiently, “when the lines connect, they form a barrier. It keeps the dark out.”

“It keeps the dark out,” I repeated. “But does it keep us in? Can we go out?”

“Sure. But you’ll die if you do.”

“Why? What’s out there, Dez? Do you know?”

“The dark.”

“Yes, but I mean
in
the dark. What’s in it?”

“There’s nothing in it. It’s just the darkness. That’s enough. That’s always been enough. The things we fear spring from the darkness. It gives birth to them. It knows what we’re afraid of and what we want most in life, and it makes us see those things. It is the oldest and most powerful of the Thirteen. It is He Who Shall Not Be Named.”

“Listen,” Russ said. “Either start making sense or shut the hell up.”

“There’s no need to speak to him like that,” Olivia protested. “Can’t you see he needs our help?”

Ignoring her, Russ continued. “If you want to help us, Dez, then you can hold the end of the rope and pull us back out if something happens. How’s that sound?”

Dez glanced down at the rope around our waists, then out into the black void, and then at each of us. He seemed to be studying our faces. He shuffled closer, knelt, and patted the dogs. All three of them seemed to like him. They whined softly and licked his face. Their tails, though still cowed, wagged.

“Okay,” Dez agreed. “I will help.”

And then we were unlucky thirteen again.

“Drew and Clay should go first,” Cranston pointed out. “After all, they’ve got the dogs, and we said we wanted the dogs to lead us, right?”

“The dogs won’t enter,” Dez said. “The dark has already tried showing them its visions. It wants them to come in, just like us. But they’re too afraid.”

“Bullshit.” Clay spat tobacco juice and scratched his black-and-tan behind the ears. “Steakhouse ain’t never run from anything in his life.”

Olivia frowned. “You named your dog Steakhouse?”

“Sure did. It’s his favorite thing in the world. Mine too. Ain’t been to a steak-house yet that I wouldn’t eat at.”

“He’ll run away,” Dez said. “You’ll see.”

Ignoring him, I turned to Drew and Clay. “You guys okay with this? If not, we need to know now.”

“I’m fine with it,” Drew said. “I’ve never been afraid of the dark, not even as a little kid. I don’t see any reason to start now. Right, Clay?”

Swallowing hard, Clay nodded.

“I’ll take one of the walkie-talkies with me,” Drew said. “We’ll give the other one to whoever’s on the end.”

“What order are the rest of us going in?” I asked the group.

“How about the order we’re already tied in,” Olivia suggested. “That would be a lot easier than untying everyone again and rearranging ourselves.”

“True that,” Mad Mike said.

“Sorry,” I apologized. “I wasn’t thinking. Just nervous, I guess.”

“I think we all are,” Russ said. “The sooner we get it over with, the sooner we can go home.”

Drew handed the other walkie-talkie to Cranston. They turned both units on and made sure they were working.

“Testing, testing, one, two, three.” Cranston grinned, then continued. “Breaker one-nine…”

“Stop it,” Russ told him. “You’ll run the battery down.”

“Dez,” I said, “you stay on the end and pull us out if we need you to.”

He nodded but didn’t respond. His eyes seemed sad and frightened.

“You better recognize,” T told him. “Don’t leave our asses hanging out there, yo. Know what I’m saying?”

Dez nodded again and stared at the ground. “I think so.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” Russ said.

With that, we turned toward the darkness. Drew and Clay prodded the dogs forward. Clay held Steakhouse’s lead, and Drew held the leashes of the two beagles. Tails between their legs, the dogs lowered their noses to the ground and skulked toward the blackness. They made it past Dez’s symbol and sniffed. Steakhouse snorted as if he’d inhaled pepper. Then, as one, they locked their haunches, lowered their heads, and whined. One of the bea gles cast a mournful glance back at Drew.

“Go on,” he urged. “Get up after that rabbit. Mind me, now! Go.”

The cringing dogs refused to budge. Drew prodded them with the toe of his boot, but still they held fast. He took a step toward them and jerked on the leash. Steakhouse growled, low and vicious.

“Steakhouse,” Clay exclaimed. “What the hell’s got into you, boy?”

The black-and-tan growled again, baring his teeth this time. Then he snapped at Drew’s foot. The big man jerked his leg away just in time.

“Goddamn it,” he cursed. “That’ll be enough of that.”

“He ain’t never acted like that before,” Clay said. “Sorry, Drew.”

“I told you they wouldn’t go,” Dez said.

Cranston sighed. “I think maybe our new friend is right, man. What now?”

“Maybe we should listen to the dogs,” Olivia said, doubt creeping into her voice. “Obviously they know something we don’t.”

“They’re gonna know my boot up their ass if they don’t listen,” Drew said. Despite his bluster, I noticed that he was keeping clear of Steakhouse. The dog’s reaction had clearly rattled him.

“Shit,” T said, puffing out his chest. “I’ll go first.”

“You can’t, yo,” Irish reminded him. “You in the middle of the chain.”

“Shut your dumb ass up. I know that. I was just saying, is all.”

“Fucking mutts.” Drew whistled, motioning to Dez. “Here. Take these leashes and hold on to them. Don’t let go, or they’re liable to run off.”

“How can he pull us out if he’s holding on to the
dogs?” Russ reminded him. “How about we just untie Olivia and let her hold them?”

“Oh, please,” Olivia groaned. “Now is not the time for chivalry. Although I appreciate the gesture, this is my town, too. If this will help, then I want to be a part of it.”

I had to give her credit. The schoolteacher had balls. Russ had offered her an out—an out that I’m sure all of us, despite our protestations of bravery, would have been happy to fucking take at this point. But she’d turned it down.

My thoughts went to Christy, and once again I wished she were there with us.

Russ pointed to the edge of the vacant lot. “Wrap their leashes around that light pole, Dez. Then get your ass back here.”

Nodding, Dez collected the dogs and led them away. They trotted along behind him, eager to get away from the darkness. After he’d tied them up, they lay down, panting, and stared at us. Dez returned.

“You still won’t listen.”

“No,” Russ said, “we’ve listened. Now we need to find out for ourselves.”

Clevon held up his hand. “I’d be willing to listen a little longer.”

Everyone ignored him.

Drew took a deep breath and crossed into the darkness. It enveloped him almost immediately, and he vanished from sight. Clay followed close behind him, if somewhat reluctantly.

“Oh, damn…” Irish balked.

“Move, yo.” Stan the Man pushed him forward. “Those old dudes gonna get hung up if you don’t.”

Irish followed after Clay. Stan the Man stayed right
behind him. He stretched out his arm and put his hand on Irish’s shoulder. Then they disappeared, too. The darkness seemed to flow over them like water.

We could hear them breathing through Cranston’s walkie-talkie. They sounded like they were having asthma attacks. Their breathing was harsh and ragged and loud, and reminded me a little bit of Darth Vader. Clay mumbled something unintelligible. Then Drew muttered that it was cold.

Mad Mike and Olivia were next in line, but before they could pass the symbol, Drew and Clay began screaming. Cranston’s walkie-talkie emitted a blast of static and then went dead, but we didn’t need it to hear their cries.

“Oh, shit,” Cranston gasped. He dropped the dead radio and tugged at the rope around his waist. “Run!”

“Wait,” I shouted. “We don’t know what’s happening.”

The shrieks increased in intensity, as Irish and Stan the Man joined in. Again, I noticed the weird dampening effect that the blackness seemed to have on sound. The four of them couldn’t have been more than a few feet beyond the barrier, but it sounded as if they were much farther away. Irish was crying for his parents. Drew screamed at someone named Hank and told him to get off the ice before it broke. Clay’s cries were unintelligible. Stan the Man shouted at someone to get it off of him. I didn’t know what the “it” he referred to was—the darkness or something else inside it.

Olivia tried to back away and Mad Mike tried to simultaneously plod forward. The rope stretched taut between them. Behind me, Russ and T pulled on the rope, jerking me backward a few steps. Mario, forgetting that he was tethered to the rest of us, turned to flee and ran
into Cranston. Both of them tumbled to the ground. I heard the air whoosh from Cranston’s lungs. Clevon just stood there, gaping.

“Stan,” Mad Mike hollered. “Irish!”

“Pull them out,” Russ shouted. “For God’s sake, pull them the hell out!”

He and T gripped the rope and yanked hard. They spaced their feet apart and locked their knees, angling for leverage. After a moment’s hesitation, Clevon joined them. Then I did the same. In front of me, Olivia screamed at Mad Mike to follow her. If he heard the frightened woman, he gave no indication. He just stared, slack-jawed, arms hanging at his sides, as the darkness rippled in front of him like a wall of black water. I got the distinct impression that he was hypnotized or something. I wondered what the blackness was showing him—or who it was showing him.

T shouted at him, but Mad Mike still seemed oblivious. He took one step forward, then another, and his feet slipped past the symbol on the ground. Immediately, the darkness rushed forward. Although I couldn’t see it, I had no doubt that the teenager was seeing a vision much like the ones we’d experienced. He reached out, and his hand sank into the black substance. It flowed over him like tar, engulfing his forearm, and then his entire arm.

“C-cold,” he stammered, turning toward us. His face was pale. “It feels so cold…”

The darkness raced over him, and Mad Mike didn’t even have time to scream. It slithered up his shoulders and neck, and rushed toward his gaping mouth. It poured into him, gushing into his mouth and ears and the corners of his eyes. Then, just like that, he was gone—absorbed by it.

Black tendrils shot out and grasped at Olivia, but she remained behind the runes, and they faltered at its edge. The bottom dropped out of my stomach, and suddenly it was very hard to breathe. Watching the tentacles reach for Olivia, there was no doubt in my mind now that the darkness was a solid, living thing. It clung to the length of rope between Olivia and the space where Mad Mike had been as if the rope were a bridge. In a way, I guess it was.

Olivia ran toward us. Despite the fact that I was fucking terrified beyond belief, I noted that she didn’t struggle. She moved quickly, as if there was no one left tied to the other end of the rope. Russ, T, Clevon, and I lunged forward, pulling the still-prone forms of Cranston and Mario with us. Sobbing, Olivia collapsed into Russ’s arms, almost knocking him over. The two of them teetered back and forth before Russ caught his balance. Clevon closed his eyes and sank to his knees, gasping for breath. T and I faced the darkness alone. This was the closest I’d stood to it yet. The air seemed colder. Not damp. Just frigid. T must have noticed it, too, because I saw that he was shivering. I put my hand on his chest and pointed at the ground.

“Whatever you do, don’t cross beyond that symbol. That’s the only thing keeping us alive right now.”

“Shoot it,” he said.

“What?”

“You said that you and your boy had guns, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, then shoot the motherfucker!”

“You can’t shoot darkness. That wouldn’t—”

I stopped in midsentence. It hadn’t occurred to me, but if the darkness was a living thing, then wasn’t it
possible we could hurt it—maybe even kill it? If so, then why wouldn’t firearms work?

“Shoot it,” T urged again. “Cap that fucking thing.”

I fumbled for my pistol. Russ handed Olivia to T and pulled his handgun out as well. The two of us raised the weapons and fired into the darkness. The pistol jumped in my hands. Flashes of light erupted from our barrels, blinding us for a second. The shots were louder than I would have imagined. My ears rang from the sound, and my hands vibrated.

“That’s no good,” Dez shouted, running up from behind us. “Get back. Get behind me.”

My ears were ringing so bad that Dez had to repeat himself twice. Stunned, we did as we were told. Dez charged forward, standing squarely in the middle of his crude symbol. Both of his fists were clenched, and in the dim glow of Cranston’s flashlight (which had fallen to the ground and was pointed directly at us) I saw glittering grains of coarse salt falling from between his fingers.

“Ia Ishtari, ios daneri, ut nemo descendre fhatagn Shtar!”

He tossed both handfuls of salt at the looming shadows. The grains seemed to spark with a blue energy as they flew toward it. When they struck the darkness, it withdrew as if shocked. The black tendrils dissipated like smoke. Dez shoved his hands into his coat pockets and pulled out two more fistfuls of salt. He repeated the gibberish and flung them as well. The darkness fell back completely.

“Pull them out,” Russ yelled, stowing his gun again. “Get them out of there!”

Blinking, I nodded and stowed my gun as well. Then
me, Russ, Clevon, T, and Olivia clutched the rope and pulled. It came easily because there was no weight on the other end. My stomach sank. I held my breath. T swore. Inch by inch, the rope snaked out of the darkness. Vapor rose from it, billowing in the beam of the flashlight. There were no cuts or frays. Indeed, the rope still looked brand new. The knots were still there from where we’d tied them around Drew, Clay, Irish, and Stan the Man’s waists—but the people were missing. There was no sign of them. No blood or skin. No scraps of clothing. Nothing. Not even a hair. It was as if they’d never existed.

“Yo,” T whimpered, sounding very much like a scared teenager and less like a street thug. “Where the hell are my friends? What the hell is going on?”

“They are part of it now,” Dez said. “Your friends are no more. They are darkness.”

“Fuck that noise. Irish! Stan! Holler back. I’m coming to get you. Just hang tight.”

He stumbled forward, but we grabbed him and held him back. He fought with us, struggling to get free and screaming for his missing friends, but the darkness didn’t answer.

“Let me go,” he cried. “Get the fuck off me.”

“They’re gone,” I whispered. “T, listen to me. They’re gone, man. Don’t kill yourself, too. It’s over.”

“The hell it is. If it’s over, then we might as well give the fuck up now. Know what I’m saying? How the hell are we supposed to fight
that?
”

None of us answered because none of us had an answer for him. In truth, I’d been wondering the same thing. Other than throwing a truckload of table salt at it, I hadn’t seen anything that hurt the darkness, and
something told me there wasn’t enough salt in Walden to do the job anyway.

“It ate my friends,” T screamed. “That fucking shit ate my goddamn friends!”

I turned to Dez to ask if he had any ideas and to have him explain what he’d been hollering at the darkness before he threw the salt, but he was already gone. He’d slipped off into the shadows while we’d struggled with T.

“Where did he—”

Robbie…

It was my grandfather’s voice, but when I turned to look at him, instead of seeing his ghost, I found myself confronted by a creature straight out of a fairy tale. At the edge of the darkness stood a half-goat, half-man. I recognized it from the fantasy novels I used to read when I was a kid. It was a satyr. It had my grandfather’s voice and face, but that was where the similarities ended. Thick, curved horns jutted from its furry brow and a huge penis dangled between its legs. The obscene organ bobbed and swayed.