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Chapter 11 - Tomorrow Is Another Day
🕑 Added 2024-09-01 13:29:28 +0000 UTCCass patted Mark down while he stood stock still, poking his nose in wonder. The bruises on his face were gone. The back of his hands were no longer scraped up. When she felt the top of Mark’s head, all she could feel was dried blood mixed in with his hair. No cuts.
“This is insane…” Cass whispered the words almost entirely to herself. “How… this is physically impossible.”
Everything about what Cass was seeing boggled the mind. How did this happen? Why did this happen? She began to pace, fingers tugging away at her chin as she thought. The process was quick. All Cass had to do was look for the oddities of this week. It had to be caused by something odd, of course, considering Mark’s sudden healing was physically impossible.
“The alien.” Cass’s eyes flashed decisively. It was the only answer that made sense, the only other impossibility in her life right now. No matter that they’d left it in the barn. Who was to say it needed to be close by to do something to Mark? Besides, it could have done something delayed to him. The three of them had been in the police cruiser together for some amount of time yesterday. Cass didn’t understand how the creature did it, but the fact was the creature remained the only suspect in her mind that could have done something like this.
The worst part was if she was right… something with weird abilities like that? Well, Cass could understand why those crazy guys at the station were willing to kill over it.
"So, what? That freak-o thing in the barn fixed me up?" Mark asked, confusion written all over his face. "Why? It hasn't spoken a word or moved at all. It just sits there.”
Cass threw her hands up in defeat. “I don’t know! Why would some creature from beyond the stars do anything? Maybe it was on accident. Maybe it’s crazy. Maybe it wants to pay you back for taking it home. Or maybe it can't even think and this is an automatic reaction. You know, like a robot programmed to fix up anyone it sees hurt. Heck, with that logic we might be nothing but puppets walking around a stage for some strange creature’s amusement. You know, real Twilight Zone material. Any moment Rod Serling’s gonna walk out from behind that curtain over there saying some real freaky stuff. Then some music sounds and we’ll be in for a ride neither of us want!”
Mark stared at Cass with wide eyes, like she was some strange creature leaping out at him all of a sudden.
“Yeah…”
Cass shook her head. She’d gotten away from herself for a bit there. Part of it was this situation for sure, but the other part was this farmhouse. It was dark, old, and creaky. She kept seeing things in the shadows. Not like monsters or anything, but images of the man she shot, or flashes of what could have happened to her dad after they escaped.
"Sorry," Cass admitted, holding up her hands in regret. "I just… I just need to get out of here.”
“Door’s right over there,” Mark helpfully pointed to the kitchen door behind Cass.
Cass chuckled at his bad joke. "No, no I need to get back to town. I need to make sure Dad's alright. This whole 'not knowing' thing is driving me bonkers."
She could see it instantly. Mark froze like a deer caught in the headlights; fear was written all over his face.
“Those men…”
“I know.” Cass sighed. She stopped pacing and sat down on one of the chairs around the kitchen table. “I know. It’s stupid. With our luck, the second we go into town those murderous lunatics find us. They see us, recognize us from the station, and bang bang. I’m sorry Mark. I know. I’ll go alone. You stay here and keep safe. I can't… I'm so worried about my dad that I think I’m gonna puke.”
Mark fell silent. Several emotions warred on his face. Fear was the most obvious. It was an expression she wasn’t used to seeing him wear. Lately, it felt like that was all he had. Fear. But there was something else, something that made itself evident soon enough.
“Yeah. I get it. When do we go?”
Cass’s eyes widened. Just like that? Going from scaredy-cat Mark to the old solid Mark? The old Mark that wasn’t scared of anything?
Okay. He was okay with her stupid plan. Even after she’d already messed up at the station.
She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time for that. She’d already been agonizing over that junk all night.
"Now," Cass replied. "We hide the alien under that haystack in the back of the barn and take the cruiser into town. We make sure my dad’s okay and split. Um, I guess if he wants us to do something else, we’ll do that instead of splitting. If those crazy guys come after us we run for the hills.”
Mark silently nodded, walking over to the living room and returning with a metal baseball bat loosely held in his hands.
“Found it in the shed out back.” He explained when Cass’s questioning gaze fell onto the bat. “Just in case.”
Her right hand drifted down to the pocket of her pajama pants, which still held the revolver from her dad’s gun safe. It was back to holding a full six shots, with Cass having taken one of the bullets from the two speedloaders to replace the bullet she used in the station. With the hammer lowered it sat mostly concealed. Only part of the wooden handle poked out, enough that a sharp eye could spot it but few would bother to notice.
She could still see him in her mind’s eye. The smoker falling backward in slow motion to settle on the ground, dead. Murderer.
“Probably for the best.” Cass sighed, mentally shoving the thoughts away from her head before grabbing the keys to the cop car out of the pocket of her windbreaker.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
“Check one. Check two. Check three.”
The radio in Mr. Moon’s car crackled life with Cathy’s deadpan voice. Mr. Moon glanced down at the device. It was just him in the car, Dag having stepped out for a smoke just a minute ago. He’d spent almost the entire day driving around the town with the chief while Dag was doing the same with Officer Rob to get the lay of the area. Now that they'd seen all there was to see and learned how the town was laid out, he was back in his vehicle such as to cover more ground. With the town cops running four squad cars, adding a fifth with Mr. Moon’s car provided invaluable coverage.
“This is Moon.” Mr. Moon picked up the radio and brusquely replied. It fell silent for a moment, with only brief bursts of static coming from the radio, until once more Cathy’s voice filtered through.
“Communications are scrambled and online. Stick to this channel unless otherwise instructed.”
Mr. Moon nodded. Standard operating procedure it was.
“Well done Ms. Miller. Sitrep?”
“Renting a house on the corner of 29th and State Street. Blue paint, white awning. Comms are fully set up in the spare room, van’s in the garage. Steve is outside smoking with the neighbors. He expects to be fully blended in within two days.”
“Understood.” Mr. Moon replied. The car shook slightly as Dag opened the passenger door and heaved his bulk into the seat, staying silent while Mr. Moon spoke. “Be advised that we are working closely with Chief Thomson and may have company in the future.”
“Yes sir. Standard operating procedures will be modified to reflect that. Good hunting.”
“Indeed.” Mr. Moon muttered once Cathy fell silent, clipping the handheld radio back to the car’s dashboard.
Now that communications were live, he could focus on other concerns. Chiefly, the fact that Chief Thomson was still pushing for a posse to be formed. On one hand, the chief's suggestion had some merit. There simply weren't enough officers to cover the town when the Russians could be hiding anywhere. On the other hand…
It was impossible for Mr. Moon to allow a posse to form. Doing so would be just as dangerous in the long term as calling in the army would be. As of now, only Mr. Moon’s team, the chief’s remaining men, the Russians, and the mysterious third party knew of the alien. They were all elements that could be kept track of (or in the case of the third party, hunted down). A posse, while likely being helpful in finding the Russians, would soon learn of the alien in turn. That would lead to the information being spread by more people than his team could take care of. Considering that the information would be deadly if it got out…
Well, the goal was to avoid glassing the town in the first place.
The chief didn’t know that, however. He couldn’t know that. Because if he learned that, then his mind would naturally turn to what Mr. Moon might be willing to do to keep the secret safe once the alien was secured.
No, a curfew would be better. It would keep folks out of the way while making anyone working under the cover of night inherently suspicious. Meanwhile, it would also encourage the people of the town to report and flee if any shady individuals showed up, instead of sticking around and running the risk of seeing the creature.
The problem was convincing the chief.
Mr. Moon drove his car at an ambling pace along the street while he thought. Four men were left in the town’s police department, including the chief. Two of the Russians were known to still be alive. One died at the station. Two more were missing. The third party. The alien was still missing.
The town was small, but somehow the Russians still evaded them. Irritating, but not impossible. Even a small town would have hidey holes if one wasn’t picky about accommodations.
They continued to drive for hours. Until the sun began to set. Another day passed. Another day with no progress.
Mr. Moon took a left and began the drive back to Chief Thomson’s house.
Another day.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The sound was pleasing to the ear. The gurgle of fuel slipping into the tank of his pickup truck. That thirsty girl was getting all she deserved, premium fuel spiced with his own special seasoning to make her purr and roar, maybe rumble a little bit too.
Glass shattered in the background. Jack paid no mind. He was finally here. Carlston.
Ohhh, the smell was astounding too. Not the smell of the town, as it smelled like any ordinary small town. No, the smell of gas. That sweet fragrance of gasoline fumes wafting past his nose. The woody hints, light and aromatic – almost sweet in smell. Jack smiled as he took a deep whiff. Euphoria.
Another sound of shattering glass rang out. The light above him went dark, but Jack ignored it. The ol' girl was almost full and his night vision was doing just fine. It would take mere moments for it to kick in. Seconds ticked by. The gas pump finally clicked to a stop. Jack pulled it out of the gas tank and screwed the cap on. Nice and tight, screwed until three clicks were heard.
A rock hit the side mirror of his pickup truck. It was only a glancing blow, but enough to shatter the glass.
Jack turned. His eyes narrowed.
They were humanoids. Arms, legs, and a head each, along with a torso and a standard number of fingers. No skin. No faces. Not even eyes, or a normal mouth. But, no muscle, blood, or ligaments were visible. It was as if their bodies were made of purely inky jet-blackness.
Five in total.
One of them opened what Jack assumed was its head, or perhaps its version of a mouth. It was filled with straight teeth, unnervingly so. Straight and long teeth. Pure white teeth contrasted sharply against a body that looked like it was made from whatever material the void in the night sky was.
“Shadow demons…” Jack breathed out the words. Then a vicious grin warped his face, and he let out a full-bellied gale of laughter. They were back. The shadow demons hadn’t learned from the last time he’d fought them in Florida!
One of the demons raised its arm, a rock clutched in its evil palm. Jack let the grin on his face continue to widen before opening the driver’s side door to his truck and grabbing an axe. It was sharp. Wicked sharp. Kept just for situations like these. No sense wasting bullets on a demon, obviously.
The rock smashed through his windshield and at the same time, Jack was on the demons in a blur of action.
“DEATH IS HERE!” Jack screamed out as he hacked into the shoulder of the closest shadow demon with his axe. It howled in pain and jumped backward, but Jack was faster. That was their playbook. Cowards, the lot of them. Throw things and run. He wouldn’t let them. He darted forward, each one of his strides equaling three of theirs. He winded back and caught the same demon square in the chest with his axe.
The other four began to scream, the unholy screeching noises sounding like fingers on a chalkboard in his ears.
“Hah, wow!” Jack stepped back, neatly dodging a steel pipe clutched in the shaking hands of the second demon, stepping on the body of the first demon while he dodged and sending his foot crushing through the ruined ribcage of the dead abomination. The sensation felt pleasing – no, it felt downright euphoric! The sensation of warm demon blood coating the leg of his jeans, the viscera slopping over the side of his steel-toed boots to soak his socks.
The second demon tripped over the cooling arm of the dead one, landing with a hard 'thump' to the ground. In the corner of his eye, he could see the third demon fleeing. No matter. His truck was faster. All Jack had to do was memorize the direction it went in and change to pursuit mode after.
Hands gripped his torso. Jack glanced down, seeing the arms of the fourth demon wrapped around his barrel chest in a feeble attempt to grapple him. To restrain him! Jack was not a man who could be restrained! Not by a demon, nor by life! He was far more powerful than it could ever imagine! Immediately he grabbed at the fingers on the edges of the demon’s hands, prying them away and breaking them one by one while the second demon recovered its footing.
Movement fluttered away behind the window leading into the store part of the gas station. Jack spared a glance. A store clerk was gaping like a fool out the window. No matter. He didn't need help. He spared a wave toward the ordinary man, the type of wave that said 'Don't worry, I've got this handled, citizen', without actually saying it verbally.
Three fingers sounded like carrots snapping between teeth before the fourth shadow demon’s grip fell away like clay crumbling at his fingers. Jack didn’t even spare a glance; he knew by the sound of it that the creature was still recovering. The second shadow demon was back at its feet, moving faster than expected. The steel pipe was discarded for some reason. Jack attributed that to stupidity – shadow demons were never really smart in his experience.
The action that proved his point was the sight of the demon’s fist hurtling toward his balls.
Jack snarled in rage. That. That was cheap. In one quick movement his hand darted forward to catch the demon’s fist before it connected, latching onto the inky-black surface with an iron grip. He pulled the arm closer, close enough he could use his other hand to grip the demon by its waist. Jack lifted the demon high into the air. Torso height. Chest height. Head height.
Then he brought his left knee up while bringing the shadow demon down, back-first.
A bone-shaking ‘crunch’ filled the air as the filthy demon’s weak spine snapped in two against Jack’s unbreakable kneecap. He tossed the worthless sack of shit away and turned toward the fourth opponent, while also keeping an eye on the fifth demon, the one who hadn’t moved during the entire brawl.
It was struck with fear. Jack grinned even wider. Good. It deserved to know fear. He turned his attention back to the demon whose fingers he broke. It was sitting on the ground numbly clutching its fingers. It didn’t even have the brains to run. Shame. It would’ve been more fun to chase two targets instead of one.
Ah well. Jack grabbed the rubber hose off the gas pump. He wrapped it around the neck of the broken-fingered demon. He pulled. And pulled. The demon began to gasp, almost appearing to realize the situation.
Almost beginning to realize that its foul existence was in danger. At first it wrapped its fingers against the rubber hose, trying to create a gap to breathe. Jack responded by pulling tighter. He could see the thing’s windpipe began to deform from the pressure. He could hear its ragged gasps as it tried to draw breath, finding the action harder to do each time. He pulled and he pulled and he pulled. The broken fingers, torn into angles that would normally be impossible, battered away at Jack’s chest.
He pulled tighter.
A soft ‘crunch’ could be heard as the vile monster’s windpipe finally collapsed, and Jack withdrew his hands. The demon fell to the ground, gasping. Gasping for seconds.
Then it fell silent.
Jack switched his attention to the final shadow demon remaining, other than the one that ran away. It was sitting on the ground, appearing numb with shock.
Huh. He didn’t know they could be shocked. He’d seen scared before, but not shocked. A flash of movement drew his attention, just in time to see the gas station clerk going for the phone behind the counter. Jack rolled his eyes. Really? He didn’t need help.
He didn’t want help.
Jack grabbed the discarded iron pipe, holding it over his head, taking aim, and throwing it like a javelin. It soared through the air, like a majestic eagle in flight. It soared and within seconds shattered the window, piercing right through the clerk’s chest. The clerk fell out of sight. Jack grabbed his axe, wrenching it out of the chest of the first dead demon. It fell out with a satisfying squishing noise… no, it was more of a squelch. A squish and a squelch Jack attributed to the metal moving past a few different vital organs. They seemed to have internals similar to humans, from the various times he’d fought them before.
The shadow demon’s mouth opened, almost as if to speak, but all that came out was garbled static. Per usual, of course. They couldn’t speak any known language. They were animals. All they knew was malice. All they could do was pick on the weak. And when someone strong came around… they folded like a piece of origami.
He slammed the axe into the demon’s shoulder, withdrawing it and burying the blade of the weapon into its skull in one swift movement.
Ecstasy.
Now that the demon’s body had fallen still, Jack leaned down. He leaned down and bathed his hands in the remains of its shoulder, pulling his dripping palms up and covering his face in its black, blasphemous blood. He dragged his palms across his face. This was the only thing shadow demons were good for, a nice coating of war paint.
The gas station was silent. No busybody clerk calling the cops anymore. No shadow demons screeching near the gas pumps. All was silent, even the stars overhead.
Jack smiled, palming his axe in his hand and returned to his truck. On the way over he stepped on the head of the demon with the broken back. The demon groaned, perhaps either in fear, or in pain. He couldn’t tell. He wasn’t a demonologist. Who knew what went on in their weirdo brains? It was probably nothing but thoughts about inconveniencing real humans. Like the IRS!
In terms of this demon, there weren’t many thoughts once Jack stepped as hard as he could on its head. A moment of resistance from the skull, and then the bone collapsed like a rotting pumpkin crushed underfoot. Jack shook the shiny bright white demon brains off his boots and hopped in his truck. It started with a rumble, a little extra kick stumbling out of the exhaust pipe courtesy of the meth he threw into the gas tank. His ol' girl liked it that way. Nice and clean gas with a little bit of dirty mixed in.
-----
Jack arrives and fights his demons in the gas station parking lot. Meanwhile, Mr. Moon wrestles with the chief over what to do, while Cass and Mark may have realized just what is so important about the alien. However, Cass's concern over her father overrides perhaps a bit of common sense, making her risk driving back into town instead of fading away into the countryside for a few weeks.
In other news I've been enjoying playing Demon's Souls. Finally got it running on my PC through an emulator and my 100% completely legally acquired copy of the game that I accessed using legal means and no others. It's pretty fun. It's even more fun now that I've got mouse and keyboard controls working mostly well on it (aside from a few janky bits that are just because the game is from like 2009 and didn't run great even on the PS3). Besides that, I have also been working a bit more on some other writing projects in my spare time. Nothing fully formed enough that I want to share just yet, but I'll let ya'll know when that situation changes. Even if it doesn't, I can selfishly say it's been pretty fun to ponder.
As always, big McThankies from McSpankies to all you lovely patreons, ninja editors, readers, and the always-encouraging homies on discord.
Join The Leaf Club: https://discord.gg/jfRn8j5GaE
Peace
