War, p.17
War, page 17
part #2 of A Journey Through Hell Series
Clicks and clacks came from beneath the sheet.
What the hell are you? Maureen thought, trying to move. But she was powerless over her own body.
All she could do was watch and listen. She was a spectator, and nothing more.
Her brother sat on the floor, wearing only a diaper, his curly golden locks hanging down to his shoulders.
The tentacle moved closer and closer to the boy’s head while he sat playing, unaware or unafraid of the thing before him.
Maureen watched as her little baby brother reached out and grabbed hold of the sheet, then started tugging.
The red eyes disappeared for a moment as the cutouts slid down, but the radiant glow pierced through the sheet, illuminating it in crimson.
Out of the corner of her eye, Maureen saw a little boy with brown hair appear. A gray feather with a white tip protruded from the back of the child’s head. Lifting up his hand, the boy pointed at the ghost with his index finger.
Maureen’s eyes shifted back to the sheet, which fell to the floor. She expected to see some kind of monster, but underneath the sheet was nothing but darkness.
How can that be? Maureen thought, still unable to move.
The tentacle protruded again from the darkness and continued toward her brother’s head. Tiny spikes began poking out of the appendage, as if searching for its prey. Her little brother looked at the tentacle, then reached up with his left hand. Suction cups unfurled, exposing razor-sharp teeth at their center. Suddenly, a bright flash filled the room. It was so intense that Maureen closed her eyes and held her hands up to her face.
I can move again, Maureen thought. But she could not see. Everywhere she looked, all she saw was the afterimage of the flash.
“Agh!” Maureen screamed as she felt cold hands grab her arms. Flailing, she tried to free herself from the grasp that held her down.
“Maureen! Maureen!” She heard her husband’s voice.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and found herself staring at the ceiling light. Bill’s face appeared, and she felt the grip release her.
“What happened?” she asked, sitting up, rubbing the bright image from her eyes.
“You were having a nightmare and thrashing around,” Bill said.
“It was just a nightmare?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Yes,” Bill said in a soft tone, trying to calm her down.
Tears welled in her eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“No!”
“What was it about?”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to bed. I’m going downstairs to get a drink,” she said, and then disappeared from the room.
Chapter 31
Mystic, Connecticut
Drew was scared shitless, and thought he was actually going to piss his pants. He did not like the feeling of falling— at all. Instinct kicked in, and he remembered what Sara and Grant had told them before boarding the plane.
“Once out the door, watch your altitude and deploy your chute at five-thousand feet,” Grant said, and Sara reiterated his words.
Drew looked at the altimeter on his wrist; he was already at forty-five hundred feet, and dropping.
Grabbing hold of the ripcord he said, “Here goes nothing.”
Drew floated down, slowly recognizing where he was. They were indeed over Connecticut, as Grant had said, but now he knew which part: Mystic, Connecticut.
Drew had been here several times before, and was excited to see a familiar place. Turning, he aimed for the desolate parking lot located between the Mystic Aquarium and the little shops next door. He had been here just last summer when he and Annabelle had made the drive down, passing through Providence, Rhode Island and continuing south on I-95 until they reached the Rhode Island and Connecticut border. The Aquarium was just over the Connecticut border.
Just before his feet touched the ground, Drew released the pack strapped to his left leg. As it hit the ground, a hard gust of wind blew, causing Drew to drift from where he’d wanted to land on a soft patch of grass between the two parking lots. Now, he’d be forced to land on the hard asphalt of the steak restaurant parking lot. Straightening his legs but keeping his knees slightly bent, Drew prepared for impact. Sand and other debris littered the lot, and his feet slid out from under him as he touched down, causing him to land hard on his ass; otherwise, he would have stuck the landing on his first jump. Getting up, he rubbed his backside, which didn’t hurt as much as his pride did when he noticed both Sara and Cass walking toward him.
Great, I’ll never live this down, he thought.
“Are you okay?” Sara asked as she approached. “The wind caught hold of you at the last moment, but you handled it well.”
“I’m fine,” he said, giving a wave as he checked to make sure the weapons were operable; they had made a loud clang upon hitting the asphalt.
“Wasn’t that so much fun?” Cass asked, her face beaming with happiness. Now on the ground, she was singing a different tune from when they’d been in the plane.
It was the first time he had seen her smile since losing her friends, and he didn’t want to spoil the moment by telling her how scared shitless he’d been the whole way down and that he could use a moment to collect himself. He also didn’t want to remind her she needed to be scared of their new surroundings. Let her have the moment, Drew thought. God knows when the next good one will come.
Drew removed the parachute, and gave the weapons a once over. Other than a small nick on the barrel of the shotgun, both seemed operable.
“There they are,” Sara said, pointing toward the back lot of the Aquarium.
As the men approached, Cass asked, “Where have you been? Drew beat you down.”
“Haha,” Steve said. “Someone here wanted to prove how good they were at landing and landed right where they said they would, which was right inside the Aquarium, and we’ve spent the last few minutes trying to get him out.”
Grant chuckled.
“You never could pass up a great LZ, could you?” Sara said, planting a big kiss on Grant.
“LZ?” Cass asked.
“Landing Zone, hun,” Sara said between kisses.
“I see someone has found a new spark in their relationship,” Steve said.
“I think you’re right,” Grant said as he grabbed his wife by the waist and kissed her again. “I love you,” he said between kisses.
“I love you too,” Sara replied.
“There’s plenty of hotels around here. You two want to get a room?” Drew asked.
“Very funny,” Sara said, placing a last kiss on her husband’s cheek.
Steve slowly made his way next to Drew and said, “Big guy, don’t forget they’re trying to help get you back to your beloved wife and daughter, so how about you cut them some slack.”
Drew instantly felt an inch tall.
“Yeah,” Steve said, seeing Drew’s face.
“Hey guys, I’m sorry. Go ahead and suck face,” Drew said.
“Really?” Steve said.
“I mean, enjoy each other. Just keep it G-rated in front of the kid,” Drew added.
“Kid!” Cass said. “I’ll have you know I’ve probably had more sex this year than you’ve had your whole life.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she instantly started crying. “Greg!” she cried out, bringing her hands up to her face.
“See, I was trying to avoid that,” Drew said as he slapped Steve on the shoulder.
“Oh, I see,” Steve replied.
Cass walked over to Drew and buried her head into his shoulder, and wept.
“Guys, maybe now isn’t the time,” Steve said as he made his way toward Grant and Sara.
“I feel awful,” Grant said.
“Me too,” Sara said.
“Don’t,” Steve said. “Enjoy your happiness. Given our current situation, we can use all the hope we can get.”
With that being said, Grant reached out and gently pinched his wife’s ass.
Sara turned, held her hand to her mouth and said, “Why, Grant, do you like my ass or something?”
“Or something,” he replied, as Sara fell into his arms. They laughed and kissed again.
Whatever good memory Drew had from this place dissipated as he noticed a truck bearing down on them.
Chapter 32
Mystic, Connecticut
Stan was approaching Exit 90 on I-95 North, crossing the Mystic River Bridge. He would be crossing into Rhode Island soon and was looking forward to seeing home when on the horizon he noticed a parachute floating down.
Slowing the truck, he leaned forward, pressing his chest against the steering wheel and kinking his neck to look upward. To his amazement, he noticed two other chutes floating down, watching as a fourth deployed.
“What the heck?” Stan said out loud as he saw an airplane fall from the sky. Slamming on the brakes, he stepped out of the vehicle and watched as the aircraft plummeted to the ground. Within seconds, black smoke rose from behind the trees in the foreground.
I hope everyone made it out okay, he thought, just as he spotted a fifth chute descending from above.
Turning his attention back to the first chutes, he noticed that they’d all landed off to the right of the exit and knew they were either in the Mystic Aquarium parking lot or near the quaint little shops he and Carol loved to visit.
Getting back into the truck, Stan headed up the road and exited the highway, taking a right at the end of the ramp.
His excitement grew when he saw three people in the parking lot of the steakhouse, which was a must-do when visiting the area. The thought of their well-done steak tips filled his mind, causing his mouth to salivate and reminding him how hungry he was.
Driving past the restaurant, Stan took the next left toward the entrance to the shops and steakhouse. Rounding the corner, he noticed a lip-locked couple intertwined in each other’s embrace.
Before he reached the group, a large muscular man dropped to one knee and took aim with a rifle.
Stan slammed on the brakes and stuck both arms out the window. Slowly, he reached down and opened the door from the outside and then stepped out of the truck with his arms raised above his head.
“Are you guys okay?” Stan asked. “I saw your plane go down and stopped to see if you needed help.”
Drew stood up, lowering his weapon, and approached cautiously.
“I’m Stan,” he said as the brute of a man came close.
“Drew,” the man said, stopping before him.
Stan was delighted. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone else.”
Drew must have picked up on his accent and he then asked, “Where are you from?”
“Quincy, just south of Boston.”
“I know exactly where that is. I live in Stoughton.”
“No way, we’re practically neighbors. Is that where you’re heading?”
“Yes,” said another man, coming up behind Drew and looking over his shoulder at Stan.”
“I’m heading that way if you want to hop in. It will be tight, but there’s plenty of room in the back. There’s even a mattress.”
“How lucky are we?” asked a third man, stepping next to Drew and offering his hand.
“God works in mysterious ways,” said the first.
Drew glanced over at him, then back at Stan and said, “The religious one here is Steve. That’s Grant.” He used his thumb to point sideways. Looking over his shoulder, he added, “That’s Sara, Grant’s wife. They’re the two lovebirds of the group, and that’s Cass.” The girl waved.
“Where were you coming from?” Stan asked.
“Florida. You?” Drew asked.
“Nebraska.”
“You drove the whole way?” Grant asked.
“I did. We can talk on the way if you like. I’m heading home to see my wife.”
“So is he,” Steve said, nodding toward Drew.
“And his daughter,” Cass said, approaching the truck.
Stan went to get in the truck but stopped. Slowly, he turned back to face the group.
“What?” Drew asked.
“I should warn you, I have a rifle and pistol up front with me. I don’t want them to take you by surprise.”
“No worries,” Steve said, lifting his shirt up and exposing the handle of the pistol tucked into his waistband.
With that, the group climbed in and headed up I-95 toward Massachusetts.
Chapter 33
Stoughton, Massachusetts
Susan’s eyes fluttered open, and she found herself in a strange sun-filled room. Climbing out of bed, she was met by warm, comforting air, which felt good on her hands which no longer hurt. Looking around the room, it felt like she had been there before, but she couldn’t put her finger on where it was. The scent of Jasmine oil filled the air, and that triggered a distant, fond memory. Then it hit her, and she knew exactly where she was. This had been a week of firsts. It had been her first plane ride. First time to Florida. And the first time to Disney.
It was here, in this hotel suite where she’d spent her honeymoon… and what a joyous week it was. This room held many a first, too: first time sharing a bed with a man, first time seeing a man naked. And it was the place where she’d lost her virginity.
She’d spent every day, for the rest of her life, with that man, until his passing.
The smell in the room had changed, and now the aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly baked cinnamon buns filled the air. The hotel was known for its gourmet food, and her mouth salivated.
She made her way from the bedroom, passing an oak-framed mirror hanging on the wall. Glancing at her reflection, she saw herself as she was now; wrinkled skin and gray hair. How awful, she thought, continuing into the small foyer. The hallway beyond led to the front door, beyond which dark and cold air crept in from the darkness beyond. Goosebumps formed on her arms and legs, and she looked back over her shoulder toward the warmth of the hotel bed.
Cold air wisped toward her, like the way it does when a freezer door is opened on a blistering summer’s day. Beyond the darkness, Susan felt something watching. Something evil. Something vile. Something that scared her.
Behind her, she heard her husband’s voice. “We should move here. It’s always sunny, warm, and there’s plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables. Heck, we could find a nice place to settle down.”
“Henry!” she cried out, excited. Her heart raced and her palms felt sweaty at the thought of seeing him again now. She hurried back to the bedroom, hoping to find the man she loved, but when she came around the corner, Henry was not there. No one was there. Confused, she searched the room, even got down on her knees, her old joints cracking, and looked under the bed. She’d just heard his voice; she knew she had.
Before getting up, she heard it again. “Florida. Go to Florida, Susan.”
Hopping to her feet, she searched the room again, then took a step to her right and looked down the hallway.
Go to Florida Susan, she heard again, but this time the voice came from beyond the cold darkness.
“Henry!” Susan cried out, falling to her knees.
Florida, she heard again.
Suddenly, while staring down the hallway, a pair of glowing red eyes appeared within the darkness, and Susan became taut with fright.
Florida, Susan heard again, before waking in her frozen bedroom.
Heading down the hallway, Annabelle walked back into Stephanie’s room. Using the flashlight, she searched for extra warm clothes for her daughter to wear and grabbed her snow boots from behind the door to keep her little piggies warm. She didn’t see the car that was used by the men who’d tried to attack her drive past, stopping when they saw the light dancing around the room.
Once she finished packing the clothes, she headed to the kitchen to pack some food. The pillowcases were strong and held the contents well, but the cans of soup and bottles of water were getting heavy. She needed to distribute the weight over her shoulders so she didn’t have to carry everything with her arms. Thinking she heard a car door, she stood still in front of the kitchen island that was covered with food to pack. After a few moments, she’d figured it was just her imagination and continued packing.
Then came a loud bang and the sound of wood splintering. The front door flung open, crashing into the wall, followed by heavy footsteps. Annabelle looked up as two men walked into the kitchen.
One had a thick black mustache, bloodstains covering the front of his shirt and pants. In his right hand, he wielded an aluminum baseball bat. The other man was balding, fat, and held a tire iron. Both stared at her, wide-eyed, and the one with the bat spoke first. “You killed our friend, you bitch!” he spat out.
“Yeah, all he wanted was a little fun with you,” said the fat one.
“Now it's time for payback!”
Trapped, Annabelle stood with her back to the sink as the two men stood on the other side of the island, which led into the living room and hallway.
Facing two men who wanted to rape and murder her, that little voice inside her head piped up and asked, What would Drew do?
“What would Drew do?” she asked out loud.
“What?” the fat man said, tilting his head and confused by the question.
Annabelle looked down and, in that split second, saw a can of peas. Before she knew what she was doing, she reached out and grabbed it. Back in high school she’d been the pitcher for the girls’ softball team and, cocking back her arm, she rocketed the can at the man. Hurdling through the air, it smashed into the nearest man’s face, the lip of the can digging into the bridge of his nose and splitting it wide open.
The man crumpled to his knees, dropping the tire iron, which clanged as it hit the tile floor, and then clutched at his face with both hands. Blood poured between his fingers.
“You crazy bitch!” the other man said, lunging at her with the bat.
