Part 15 (1/2)
James bent down next to the next female body up ahead, turning her over and gasping in shock. ”What are you doing here, Nora?”
Nora had received an axe wound to the face, what opened up her sinus cavity, both her eyes wide as if seeing the blade come down moments before it hit home. James pet the tangles of her dyed, platinum blonde hair. ”You came here because they tricked you, didn't they? Why did they do that to you? Why couldn't they leave you alone?”
Brock lowered down next to him, but the man was shoved him away. ”Back off. This is my sister. She doesn't live here. She had nothing to do with this. They,” sobbing hard, ”they tricked her into coming here.”
Brock stood back, letting the man mourn without interruption. ”That's how they brought me here too.”
The words did nothing to console James. Brock didn't blame James for needing a moment. Brock averted his attention to the local houses on the block and caught a strange sight. Many of the trees had the steel square and slot on them. So did garage doors, windows, doors, and in patches of lawns, stamped into the dirt. The road had many of them too, and Brock was stumped as to there purpose.
Things were changing, and he couldn't help but rouse James from his moment. ”We really should get moving. I don't like what I'm seeing one bit.”
James kept crying, his head against Nora's chest. He was trying to soothe himself. He refused to accept his sister was deceased.
”I'm sorry, James, but I don't like what I'm seeing here. The sooner we get to that man's house and get some answers, the better.”
”I can't leave her,” James whispered, rocking her body in his arms. ”We can't beat this place. We just can't. We're up against so much we don't understand.”
”What if this continues outside of Blue Hills? What if more people keep coming here? Other loved ones and friends of people will die too. They have my fiance, and they've taken over my sister. Who else will they take, James? Eventually everybody.”
”We can't win,” James said in resignation. He glared up at him with seething eyes. ”Quit lying to yourself, Brock. This is something stronger than all of us. Beyond our help.”
”Then I'll die fighting. I'll die looking for Hannah. I don't care.”
The wind picked up. Brock caught an acrid whiff of burning flesh. It was real, not the incorporeal matter he'd come upon previously. Someone had set fire to a body. He caught a tower of smoke filter up through the woods miles off.
James left his sister on the street, suddenly afraid to be near her. He pointed a shaky finger at her body. Brock eyed the dead woman many moments before he noticed the square of steel on her neck the size of a rubber eraser with a slit in the center.
”That wasn't there moments ago,” James said in a hushed voice. ”I didn't see it happen, and I sure as h.e.l.l didn't hear it happen. It just appeared. No cause. No reason.”
Brock pointed up the road. ”We need to get moving. Something's changing, and I don't want to be out in the open when this reaches its full potential.”
”You're right,” James agreed, finding himself again. He took the first steps up the road. ”The axe man's place isn't too much further. Maybe half a mile.”
It was then the words emanated from the sky. They were projected with a ba.s.s resonance that shook everything, including the leaves from the trees. ”Die fighting/die you will/death is ours to give to you/try and fight us/you will surely writhe in the agonies of h.e.l.l/so the real game will begin /play our games/for h.e.l.l has grown tiresome/killing life is what we do now/so die fighting/die in our name/die playing our games.”
Death tainted the air. The burnt flesh fog reeked. Brock thought of hundreds, perhaps thousands of bodies fouling up the air. It was like a gas breathing up from the ground. Pockets of earth exploded in dirt clods and tufts all around the area, spitting out thick plumes of yellowish vapor. Then up from the holes came the gurgling, boiling, popping black oil.
Now, they wouldn't walk to Chuck Durnham's house.
They would run.
Brock heard James blather directions to the house under shaky breath. They raced on, turning from one residential road to the next. They made a turn and were running on a back road. ”The man...he...lives...off the beaten...path...the house is alone...his father's old property...”
The drumming of his pulse in his ears couldn't erase the sound of the earth spitting up more gas and the mushrooming of that black oil that stank of so much death. Brock sucked in more air because he had to, his lungs sharp with stabbing pains. His s.h.i.+ns, knees, and back delivered the ache of pulled muscles and overworked joints. He had no choice but to keep going for Hannah's sake. Brock fought the pain.
The road was clear of any victims until they found the lone truck parked in the middle of the road with the shape of a person laying in the road ahead of the vehicle. He noted the congealed blood circle on the road, though it took longer to notice it with the sky growing darker as night was closer to falling. Gla.s.s fragments were mixed in the red. He was confused by the drags in the blood, as if many tiny fingers had dragged themselves for yards until they faded and disappeared altogether.
The corpse slumped in the driver's side persuaded him to quit being a crime scene investigator. Seeing the grizzly damage of the inside out man, Brock moved on in repulsion. Brock sought the other body on the ground.
James had eyed the corpse longer in the car longer than Brock did. ”Jesus.”
”What do you think it means?”
”I'm not sure, but by his wounds, looking at his face and the outward punctures in his throat and chest, I'd say,” James stared at his forearm wrapped in the makes.h.i.+ft bandage, ”it's what happened to my arm, but to the hundredth power.”
”You're saying coins were sucked out of his body?”
Brock watched James pivot his head through the pane-less window, then he looked up at the truck's ceiling. Curious about what he was doing, Brock stood beside the man, watching James pick out the coins wedged in the ceiling. He handed Brock a few quarters and dimes, and what James clutched was absorbed into his skin instantly.
James blew a sigh of relief, ”You know what that meant?”
”The coins sinking into your skin?”
”Yeah,” he said, staring at his empty hand stained in red. ”It means I was d.a.m.n close to being turned off. I keep forgetting I'm like everybody else.”
Brock pulled some coins off of the ceiling and said, ”Why don't you take this too?”
”Hold onto it. If I fall asleep, you can use it on me.” James's eyes were doleful. ”There might come a time when falling asleep won't be such a bad thing, you know, if this visit at Chuck's house doesn't go so well.”
”Don't say that.” Brock couldn't imagine surviving this on his own. ”I'm not leaving you behind.”
”You say that now, but you're not one of us.”
”Hannah could be, and if that's true, then I might as well be in the same predicament because I'm not leaving without her.”
Brock decided to stop himself before they got into a more heated argument. He was exhausted from running, and they still had more ground to cover. He made it about five yards before he learned the body in the road ahead was Angel. He rushed to her, then lowered to his knees to get a better look at her. Brock scanned her body for damage and was grateful she was unharmed beyond her condition of forced sleep. He dug into his pocket for change in his pocket when James stopped him by seizing his wrist.
”Think about what you're doing.”
”I'm saving my sister.”
”She tried to trap us in the hotel room. She can't be trusted.”
”She's not herself. Not only is she on drugs, she's terrified.”
”If you want to take your sister out of here, you have to let her rest. I know it sounds strange, but she'll run from you again. What if we do find a way out, and you can't find her later on? This is a big town. Lots of foothills and places to hide. We could be killed trying to play search party.”
Brock's eyes stayed on Angel's downy white face. Her pallor seemed to fade by the second. He paced back and forth, unable to decide what to do. ”Then what do you want me to do, just leave her here?”
James came to his senses. ”Okay, no, we can't leave her. I wasn't saying that. I don't know what I'm saying. I only left my sister behind because she's obviously dead.”
”How far are we from the axe guy exactly?”
”Maybe a quarter of a mile.”
”Then I'll carry her the rest of the way.”
”That's a long ways for you to lug a hundred plus pound body.”
”I'm not doing it by myself.”