Part 12 (2/2)
”You still can't give up.” Brock leaned against the wall, trying to think of the next step. ”So we're trapped. So we think outside the box.”
James wasn't p.r.o.ne to accept positivity at this point. ”We can readjust our thinking all we want. We're trapped. End of story.”
Angel expressed the sentiment better. ”We're f.u.c.ked.”
TIM HAWKER'S HOUSE.
Uncle Hawker's house wasn't located in the woods when w.i.l.l.y was a kid. It was actually located along a residential area of older houses the city wanted to demolish almost two decades ago to build a new highway system that connected to the Interstate. Considering how strange it was the new location of the house, it was also strange the house was here because it had burned down. Those charred remains were cleared out and the property was used for the interstate project, but that didn't seem to matter today. Everything happening in Blue Hills kept defying reality, and something else was going to happen soon to further cement the fact.
There was a long driveway a quarter of a mile long that also didn't exist when his uncle's house was first around. Jenna kept her gun steady in her hand, urging him to keep going. w.i.l.l.y feared the house with every turn of the wheels.
What made the house return?
w.i.l.l.y asked Jenna that question. She didn't hear him at first, then moments later, she snapped out of her inner thoughts. Jenna gave him a long stare. His question had confounded her, so she said, ”You know why the house is here. You know why all of this is happening. Quit playing dumb. It doesn't make me hate you any less. Playing dumb won't save you. It won't save anyone.”
The scathing words didn't hit home like she intended to. There was fear in her eyes. Her act was a front, so he did something bold. Once they were in front of the house, w.i.l.l.y slammed down on the gas. The car lurched forward with a jerk, and then he struck the brakes. Jenna was pushed forward, and w.i.l.l.y braced himself as she hit the dash. He grabbed the gun out of her hands, stole the keys, and rushed out of the car.
w.i.l.l.y's hands shook in the pistol's grip. He didn't want the weapon, but he also didn't want a crazy b.i.t.c.h's bullet in his back either. Jenna stumbled out with her hands to her face. Her nose was bloodied. He was about to apologize to her, but the blow served to numb her anger.
They stood together in silence, the car the only thing between them.
”What do we do now?' w.i.l.l.y demanded. ”If I would've gone along with your plan, what would you tell me to do next?”
Jenna didn't seem to care. ”My job's done. You're here.” Her hands trembled at saying this next bit. ”I'm through with my part.”
”You're...through? Through with what?”
Jenna wore a sarcastic smile. Then the expression crumbled into one of intense loathing. ”Life isn't much when you think about it, w.i.l.l.y. You're given a few chances to really appreciate it, and when you do appreciate it the most, that's the moment it's about to be taken away from you.” She dabbed a tear out of the corner of her eye. ”Not everybody can say they truly appreciated life when the end comes. I should count it as a blessing that I had that chance to experience that moment of clarity.”
Her explanation was cut short. He heard the uncoiling of a spring, like rusty metal sc.r.a.ping against rusty metal. What had happened to Tally suddenly happened to Jenna. An unseen force popped off her head from the neck with a splitting of skin and a gush of arterial sprays. Her arms spat out of the sockets, launching them across the lawn. They landed like two planks of stiff wood. When her legs went out from under her, w.i.l.l.y ran for the car.
”f.u.c.k this!”
w.i.l.l.y gathered up the keys, dropped them, and had to get on his hands and knees to scoop them up from the ground. His body had gone stiff with fear. He reserved his mental capacities for one goal. Drive the h.e.l.l out of there.
He managed to pick up the keys and guide them into the door's lock. It sc.r.a.ped metal and wouldn't go into the hole.
”What the-!”
The key hole was blocked by a square of steel.
w.i.l.l.y shattered the window with the b.u.t.t of the pistol after four blows. He cleared the gla.s.s from the edges and reached in to open the door. It came open, and he cleared the gla.s.s from the upholstery the best he could before sitting down.
The car's ignition was blocked by a piece of steel.
Without knowing why, the car tipped backwards. Both back tires popped, startling him. The smell of scorched meat, the iron in blood, and tang of something ripe, wrong, and dead caused him to gag and cover his nose and mouth. The car lowered itself. w.i.l.l.y saw it happen in the rearview mirror first. The back tires were sinking into a puddle of boiling hot tar. Soon, the car tipped upwards like a sinking cruise liner into the ocean.
Sprinting from the car, w.i.l.l.y was surrounded by the boiling tar. The only place he could run was towards the front steps of his uncle's house. Once there, he inspected the tar better. There were color swirls and tints to the substance, lots of reds, greens, blacks, and flesh tones. w.i.l.l.y kept smelling something offal. It turned his stomach. He wanted to puke, yet his fear kept the urge at bay. His senses refused to let down their guard. Danger surrounded him.
Staring harder at the burning black stuff, various bones began to surface. Boiled clean skulls and human spines mostly, each boiling in the mess, and soon, sucked back down with a short burst of noxious bubbles.
All along the yard, high pressure puffs of air cut up the gra.s.s, slicing it up into thin clods that shot up head high. The remains of Jenna's body sank into the damaged earth as the black tar pooled up from the holes and melted the human remains in seconds. What used to be his old girlfriend was now dissolved.
The yard was filling up with the black as more of the turf was blown away by pockets of surging air. w.i.l.l.y wasn't sure where to run to. The entire stretch of the yard was boiling in black. He stood on the cement walkway, waiting for the black to reach out to him and pull him under and kill him.
Voices on the air arrived out of nowhere and everywhere. The words caused his skin to p.r.i.c.k and pang. w.i.l.l.y went stiff taking in what they said to him.
”h.e.l.lo welcome/good to see you again, w.i.l.l.y/come inside, we have a lot of catching up to do/this is all for you, w.i.l.l.y/please come in so we can reacquaint ourselves/just step inside where it's safe, w.i.l.l.y/come on in and we'll talk.”
The black sledge edged towards the concrete steps, causing steam to rise. He wasn't sure if the house was safe, but it was better than dying right here right now. w.i.l.l.y dodged the black stuff by opening the door and entering the house.
PLANNING AN ESCAPE.
Brock returned to the problem at hand. ”Do we know anything else about this axe guy?”
Angel said, ”He was once a fireman.”
”James already told me that.” Brock was annoyed. ”Was he possessed? Did he go crazy? What made him do the things he's doing now?”
Something occurred to James suddenly. ”He's not possessed or crazy, I don't think. But when he's close by, sometimes I notice he's got that oil on him. The oil that comes up from the ground. The oil's full of bones and it reeks of death. Maybe that's what changed him. The oil.”
”You're saying the dead are inside him?”
”I'm saying I don't know anything about the oil. I'm just guessing. Whatever it is, it's obviously bad.”
”He's only guessing, Brock,” Angel said, twisting her head at him and giving him that manipulative smile. She could con charity out of its life savings with that evil smile. ”Why don't you back off of us? n.o.body knows what's really happening except that we'll either be asleep or dead soon. I'm sure that axe guy knows we're here. He'll chop down the door and clean us out of money. End of story.”
”But why do it at all?” Brock expected Angel's snappy response. ”I know, I know, Jesus, n.o.body knows why, but I'm asking anyway. Why make people operate on money? It's ironic.”
”Ironic,” Angel scoffed. ”You're ridiculous, Brock. Are you sure you're clean? You're talking like an idiot.”
”I mean it's like someone's joke or statement about society.”
James understood him. ”It's been planned, it seems. I get what you're saying. But who is pulling it off? Whatever means it would take to pull this off, it's incredible.”
”We must find that axe man and shake him down.”
Angel shoved a pillow in her face and stifled a scream. ”This is ridiculous! You guys are talking in circles. And if you go against that man, you're going to get yourselves killed.”
Brock was angry. ”That man hasn't done anything to me. I'm not a machine yet. I can fight him.”
The information served as a slap to her face. ”Oh please. You'll be his next victim. You're a f.u.c.king pansy, Brock.”
”You guys must hate each other,” James said, a smile crossing his face that Brock wanted to punch off. ”Dysfunction city.”
”That's what the Richards family is famous for.” Angel stood up. She was tired of resting on the bed. She moved closer to James to better spell it out. ”Big brother joined me in snorting our way through millions. It was our father's fortune. You've heard of Gene Richards, haven't you?”
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