Don't Fear The Reaper (30 page)

She wasn’t obese; on the contrary, if anything, she was slender and
lithe. She was five foot nine and a half. Nevertheless, climbing a steep
mountain with light rapidly ebbing wasn’t even remotely ideal.

Mobile phones didn’t work in this part of the world; that’s if they had
electric to recharge the battery. All Belinda wanted was to either see them
both or hear their voices.

Probably lost track of time
, she thought.
Or they’ve seen
something in the near distance that’s caught their interest, and might be
useful to stay around to see more of.

Again these runaway thoughts were all rather rational. Belinda wasn’t
going crazy or fretting to the point of madness. She was just your typical
doting wife and mother who cared about others’ wellbeing more so than her own.
Tom had told her that on occasion to try to get her to relax and sleep. He
soothed her with, ‘You are a good person, my love. Maybe too good for this
world. A world where people care about one thing: themselves. People care more
about money and how they want all the shit that other rich people have, but you
just want the ones you care about to be happy. That’s noble. That’s the way to
be. We got some good possessions and comforts and that makes life a little more
comfortable, but without love it’s all worthless. I don’t know what’ll happen.
But I do know that as long as I’m with you and Tobe, that’s all that matters.’

Belinda poured herself a glass of lemonade and reluctantly chose another
book. One that hadn’t been a prelude to the world’s demise.

Deep down though, all she wanted was to hear those soothing words from
Tom himself. Only he had the ability to calm her and lull her thunderous
heartbeat…

*

Belinda
bolted out of her deckchair as though she’d been shot. The screaming had
murdered her doze and given her heart an adrenaline shot. Frantic, she blinked
away her weariness and darted around the caravan where the screaming came from.
According to her wristwatch it was 4:57. She hadn’t slept for long, which was
good. But would it make any difference?

The ash-grey sky and the fact that dusk had descended obscured the clear
view the mountain had offered earlier that day. This veil of darkness seemed to
mock Belinda. She stood helpless, no knowing what the best course of action to
take. The screaming reverberated in the valley. Then there were a chorus of
screams. Screams of men facing pure horror the likes of which no human should
ever have to face.

Shaking herself out of motionless, Belinda hurried into the caravan. She
stooped down at the cupboard, flung it open and extracted a torch. She flicked
the ON/OFF switch with trembling fingers.

Nothing.

The interior of the caravan was a few shades darker than outside.
Fortunately Belinda knew her way around the interior as well as the wrinkles on
her hands. She rummaged blindly in the cupboard until her fingers brushed a
small cardboard box. Shaking them, she breathed a sigh of relief at the dull
rattling of batteries inside. She grabbed two and slotted them into the torch;
flicked the ON/OFF switch and cussed under her breath. She’d put them inside
the wrong way. Once that mishap had been corrected she flicked the ON/OFF
switch again.

A cone of golden-yellow radiance.

The light shone out of the torch giving the impression of a futuristic
sword. Torchlight in hand, Belinda leapt out of the caravan and crossed the
deserted highway and pointed the beam high up.

Nothing.

The light as strong as it was with a new set of batteries didn’t reach
that far. The cold stone struck hit the anxious woman with the same impact as a
concrete block. If she truly desired to find out what had induced the harrowing
screams and the delay of her husband and son then she’d have to climb the
mountain herself.

Terrified of the screams as she was, Belinda’s mind feared the unknown to
a greater extent. This she knew otherwise she’d have been racing up the
mountain without the slightest hesitation. Instead she stood rooted to the
spot, shaking head-to-toe.

Tobe was a tough kid. Unlike her, he had an avid interest in sports. He
played rugby for the school team and went to the boxing gym three times a week,
sometimes five when the rugby season was over. Not once had he ever come back
from either sport with anything more than a scrape.

Tom, Belinda knew, was as tough as nails. His father had been an
undertaker and worked in the basement of their countryside villa on the
outskirts of Merthyr Tydfil. As a child he’d often seen cadavers entering the
home in black body bags. When dinner was ready his mother sent him to get his
dad. Tom ventured downstairs and usually saw his father at work; the cadavers
pallid and bloodless. Some he said had died young and their bodies and faces
were beyond full repair. Belinda was certain that if they’d come across
something unforeseen, such as a dead body, there was no way Tom or Tobe would
have screamed, especially for as long at the top of their lungs. To have that
effect on them there had to be something far worse. 

It was this reason that kept Belinda rooted, shaking with worry.

She loathed herself for her fears. She loathed how weak and inadequate it
made her. Of course she was the woman in a family dominated by men, but her son
and her benevolent husband evidently were suffering from some sinister unseen
occurrence, and she was not able to move a step closer.

Another reason why she shook had to do with not wearing anything more
than a long-sleeve Reebok T-shirt and a pair of Levi’s. Also, she hadn’t
grabbed any water or fizzy drink that she would need if she were going to
overcome her fear and climb the mountain. So, if nothing else, being properly
prepared would help a great deal.

Belinda hurried back across the deserted highway and realised she’d left
the caravan door wide open in her haste.

‘Stupid girl!’ she chastised herself.

As she hopped over the step into the caravan another light out of the
corner of her eye pulsed.

The room suddenly filled with static of unease. The cosy interior had
long departed and had now been replaced by an eerie radiance that came not from
any torch or bulb but from a shape and size of a man who used to be her husband.

She didn’t have control of her voice or any of her bodily functions when
her eyes met this neon green shape. The torch fell out of her numb grasp.
Belinda didn’t even hear it hit the floor. She stood frozen, eyes bulging. Then
she pissed herself. Nevertheless, Belinda didn’t feel or notice the warm
flowing liquid spilling out of her crotch and coursing down her quivering legs.
Her mouth yawned open and she swayed as though drunk or being rocked.

The green shining man rose from the half-circle couch and stared at her
with expressionless eyes. Then his eyes gazed over her shoulder towards the
door. Belinda didn’t dare turn around even if she could. However, when the
enormous skeletal hand pressed down on her bony shoulder she believed her
entire body would crumble and burn to ash.

In the small mirror on the door that led to the bathroom, Belinda saw
whose hand had rested upon her shoulder. Her knees buckled and she whimpered.
Dizziness blinded her momentarily. Yet the enormous hand of the Reaper
remained.

In that moment Belinda prayed for immediate death.

But she was very much alive…

The shining green man whose body had once been her husband’s earthly
shell spoke. His voice came from faraway as though through a channel that
couldn’t be reached in the physical sense. However, it was the words he chose,
not the distance the words travelled, that perished Belinda’s hope of this
being one big, elaborate dream.

‘You have always let fear control your life, Belinda,’ the green man
said. ‘Your previous fears could have been easily overcome had you had the
courage – but not this fear. This fear is something that cannot be thwarted.
Unlike the fears from your childhood when your mother used to lock you in your
bedroom all weekend. She made you clean your bedroom. Then when that was done
she’d come in and mess it up and order you to clean it up again. And what did
Daddy do for you? He left his ladder propped up against the rear wall right
outside your bedroom window. All you had to do was open the window and climb
out. But you never did. Not even Daddy could understand your tears at the
dinner table afterward. He never said a word because all the times he tried to
help you, you ignored him and suffered in silence. Pity is no good. Pity got
you nowhere.’

Had Belinda been screaming or protesting she’d have been stunned back
into silence. The words the “green man” spoke were vividly accurate.

‘Then there was Jimmy Green; your ex-boyfriend. He’d take you to the
valleys on cold winter nights to look at the stars. You’d mentioned you were
interested in astrology. You’d been dating three weeks and all he’d done in
that time was grope and paw you. Not one word you said ever got through to him.
You knew this subconsciously. Yet you went with him anyway. Mummy called you a
dirty whore. Even Daddy said Jimmy was interested in one thing and one thing
alone… and he never interfered, not after trying to help you and being ignored.

‘November 2 1982. Nineteen you were and going with Jimmy Green as you
thought no one else would like you. And God forbid you had to overcome your
fear of asking someone out yourself. So there you were, making out. Then ol’
Jimmy starts sliding his hand down your blouse to your burning libido. You
groaned like a bitch on heat. You stroked his shaft beneath his underpants,
loving the hot throbbing hard soldier. You slid into the back seat. Jimmy
pulled your bottoms off and began probing his fingers through your underwear.
You knew what Jimmy intended, didn’t you?’

Belinda couldn’t answer even if she wanted to.

‘After all, you’d gladly participated up until that point – but then what
happened?’ The “green man” didn’t wait for a response. ‘Your fear of losing
your virginity and shagging Jimmy rose to the surface like a volcano. You
started moaning “No, no.” over and over again. Yet deep down you were still
enjoying it. Then he tried to push his greasy cock into you, but you fought him
and scratched him.

‘You were a “cock-tease”, Belinda. And you feared the ramifications of
what might happen to you if Jimmy told everyone what you’d done, so you let him
enter you. He raped you till you were sore and you never overcame your fear to
tell anyone about it; not even your husband, Tom.’

Frightened as she was, Belinda nodded in solemn agreement.

‘But today your lifelong fear is not something you can overcome with
courage. Today’s fear is a righteous fear. Today you shall be given a choice to
overcome your lifelong fears of inadequacy or face your fear of Death.

‘You can join us or you can dance with the Grim Reaper. What shall it
be?’

The heart palpitations caused the woman to gasp for breath. There were so
many questions she wanted to ask. So many ideas flooding her consciousness. She
wanted to know what would happen if she overcame her lifelong fears and joined
the shining green man that had once been Tom but was now something else – would
she be like him? Moreover, she desperately needed to know what had befallen
Tobe, and if he was safe. However, the answer to those questions, especially
the last one was too much to bear.

Incapable of responding, the towering cloaked figure made the decision
for her.

*

Elias
Benullo stirred awake, fresh and recuperated. As he gazed about him he was
surprised to see the Stygian gloominess of the cavern and not the world outside
and beyond. His confusion subsided when he realised everything he’d just seen
was a dream… although it felt so real.

In the dream a towering cloaked figure came to visit him. It travelled in
an old rickety carriage. The shiny white horse had not a speck of dirt, ash or
mud on it. Something at the rear of the carriage rattled hollowly. The enormous
figure emerged and stepped down. Then it appeared to float not walk across the
smouldering ruins. In its large emaciated hand a scrunched ponytail of hair
trailed the round shape that must have been a ball with flesh. The dark figure
cornered the carriage and lifted the lid of the box and tossed the ball inside.

Elias thought it strange that the ball had hair, but perhaps it was to
use for those who only had one spare hand. The other of the cloaked figure
gripped a long black pole with the longest curved shaped blade he’d ever seen. The
flashlights illuminated the figure and its tool. The long dagger-pointed blade
was coated in a blackish liquid that dripped soundlessly.

Two sentries donning their army coloured uniforms ceased eating their
apples and saw Elias for the first time since he’d drifted out the cavern’s
hole. One of them hissed something at him, but Elias didn’t hear him. No doubt
though, the soldier was ordering him to return farther inside.

Darkness cascaded the miserable, thunderous clouds. This didn’t frighten
or intimidate Elias one iota. Some who had been born and were old enough had
merely adopted the dark. Elias had been born in the dark. Darkness was his
ally. He was raised by the darkness.

The soldier was about to stride towards Elias when he stopped. Frowning,
he followed the boy’s gaze and saw the towering amorphous figure that had
materialised from the dark heading towards them. He shouted and pointed so his
comrade paid heed to what was going on. Then they both raised their assault
rifles. But before they could fire off a single round the enormous figure in
black loomed over them and swung with velocity and finesse. Its precise swings
were too quick for the eye to see and the brain to absorb. However, in spite of
the speed and power the swings were executed absent of rage or bitterness.

Elias stood transfixed on the scene playing out before him. Never before
had he seen conflict the older humans talked about by day and dreamed and
sobbed about by night. Yet instead of being paralysed with fear, Elias found
the only aspect of the incident that kept him rooted to the spot was awe.