Anthology of Ichor III: Gears of Damnation (16 page)

Adam chose the latter.

The man smiled a thin, tight-lipped smile. “Welcome to the Wescott Motel. I assume you two are new in town. We don’t get many passers-through anymore. Not with big resorts like Vail and Aspen competing for the tourist dollar. Pity, because Stone Creek is such a beautiful place.”

Adam nodded tentatively. He wanted to ask the man whether he’d looked outside recently, but decided against it. “Are you the owner of this establishment?”

“
I suppose you could say that,” the man mused, hands grasped firmly behind his back. “You can call me Albert. Or Mr. Albert, if you like.”

“
Well then, Albert, have you lived here your whole life?”

“
No. I’m afraid not. I moved here quite recently, actually. Business and all.”

“
I know what you mean,” Adam intoned.

“
What about you? Why have you come to Stone Creek? Adventure? Wealth?”

“
More like a fresh start.”

The man’s smile broadened, peeling apart his reptilian lips and revealing the little white pearls within. “I think you’ll find we have plenty of those.”

Adam set his suitcase aside and signed in. There were no computers, just a big leather logbook with crispy yellow pages. It must have been a hundred years old, all covered with dust and mildew, but then again, its age paled in comparison to the dilapidated town around him. Most of the houses looked like they’d been built during the Revolutionary War. Maybe earlier, judging by the vines that climbed their whitewashed sidings.

“
Rooms start at sixty dollars per night,” Albert said. “That includes free meals and a complimentary telephone, should you need to call someone.”

“
Do they have TVs?” Alex interrupted.

Mr. Albert folded his long fingers together. “No, I’m afraid not. However, we do have a radio if you need entertainment.”

Alex’s eyes went dull. “Satellite radio?” he asked hopefully.

“
If you consider FM to be satellite radio, then yes. Otherwise, no.”

“
Sounds perfect,” Adam interjected. He didn’t want his son to alienate the only motel owner in town; at least not yet. Once they’d found a house and started a down-payment, he could pester the man to his heart’s content.

“
It’s always such a pleasure to have new visitors,” Albert said. “The last couple who visited our town had an unfortunate accident…”

“
What kind of accident?”

“
The kind involving a wood chipper. But don’t worry. If you mind your own business and stay away from the factory, you’ll be fine.”

“
The factory?” Adam said, testing the word on his tongue.

“
Oh, I’m sorry. You didn’t see it? It’s located on a hill just north of town.”

“
Is that where all the smoke is coming from?”

Albert frowned. “I’m afraid so. That’s the residue from their chemical plant. Although it looks toxic, I assure you that it’s completely harmless.”

Adam nodded vacantly. He was too busy fishing twenty-dollar bills out of his wallet and tossing them onto the counter.

“
Here’s a hundred and eighty dollars. That should cover three nights, enough time for us to explore the town and decide where we want to live.”

Albert’s eyes kindled with a disconcerting light. “Excellent. Excellent. Just what we need, a few new faces to freshen things up. The townspeople will love you, you know.”

Adam chuckled. “And why is that?”

“
Because. They love the scent of new blood.”

Chapter 10

Despite the hotel owner’s haunting last words, Adam found their room surprisingly comfortable. The moment he opened the door, the scent of
Freshtastic
fabric softener and old oak wafted into his nostrils. It made him want to drop his suitcase and collapse onto the bed, soaking up the sweet fragrance of spring as he drifted off to dreamland.

“
Whoa! Super cool!” Alex exclaimed.

The item which had elicited such an exited response hung motionless on the wall. It was an elk’s head fastened to a mahogany plaque, perfectly preserved. Its dark eyes peered about the room, lifeless and opaque, as if they were mirrors guarding the entrance to another dimension.

“
Do you think Mr. Albert killed it?” he inquired.

“
I doubt it,” Adam yawned. “Mr. Albert doesn’t look like a hunter to me. He probably found it at a garage sale.”

Alex didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Not with his mouth hanging open like that.

After he’d circled around the elk head for about fifteen minutes, inspecting it from every angle like an avid gun collector, he sat down on the bed and amused himself by drawing pictures of cowboys and Indians. He hadn’t even completed the picture of Buffalo Bill before Adam was out cold, snoring like a baby. Two days of driving without rest had that effect on a person.

“
Goodnight, dad,” Alex whispered. He finished coloring the lawman’s jacket and tucked his crayons back into the container. He liked drawing in his spare time. It was a way to release the creative juices that built up inside him. Thumbing through video games just didn’t achieve the same effect.

With a sigh, he ambled across the room, stopping to gaze out the foggy window. The past few months had been difficult for him, more difficult than he would admit. Even though his father had refused to tell him the details, he understood the basics of the situation. He knew that his mother had left because she was seeing someone else. He knew that drugs, sex, or rock ‘n roll was involved—possibly all three—and that they’d left the city because his father couldn’t stand her anymore. Beyond that, everything was blurry.

Saundra.

That was her name. He said it in his sleep every night because his father didn’t like hearing it out loud. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to be tormented by her memory. Or maybe, Alex thought, he wanted to forget her completely.

Adam grunted and rolled onto his side. He wasn’t aware of it in his sleeping state, but he subconsciously reached out and hugged a pillow against his chest. He wasn’t used to sleeping alone. He’d always had Saundra by his side, had her gorgeous eyes and beautiful smile to greet him when he woke up, but now he had nothing. Nothing but the chill autumn breeze to warm his cold, dead heart.

Dreams flitted in and out of his mind. They were dreams filled with happy memories—Christmas with his uncle John, Thanksgiving with Grandpa Ed, and Easter with sweet Saundra—but dreams nonetheless. They weren’t real. They couldn’t alter what had already happened. They were like wooden soldiers, amusing little novelties but useless during a real war.

“
Dad! Dad, wake up!”

“
What is it? What’s going on?”

Adam rolled over, his brain only partially awake. Perched on the bed beside him was Alex, blue eyes wide.

“
There’s something outside,” Alex exclaimed.

“
Of course there’s something outside,” Adam grumbled. “We’re in a
town
for crying out loud.”

“
That’s not what I mean. There’s something
different
outside. Something
weird
.”

“
Weirder than getting a good night’s sleep?”

“
Dad, I’m being serious.”

“
So am I. Now go to bed. It’s probably just a wolf or something.”

Adam rolled over and buried his head in a pillow, but Alex would not give up that easily. He grabbed his mp3 player and put the headphones over Adam’s ears, changing the volume from pulse-pounding to skull-shattering. A series of gut-wrenching guitar riffs leapt to life, blasting through his eardrums like a rusty nail.

“
Sonofabitch! Get those things off my head!” Adam shrieked.

“
Only if you promise to look outside,” Alex demanded.

God help him. The kid had learned how to negotiate.

“
Fine. But only for a second. And then I’m going back to sleep. Deal?”

“
Deal.” Alex grinned, leading his father toward the misty window.

“
So where is this terrible beastie?” David asked. He rubbed a pocket of steam off the glass so he could see through more clearly.

“
It… it was outside. In the street,” Alex stammered. “There were three of them. They were limping, like zombies. One of them didn’t have an arm.”

“
Sounds like a nightmare to me,” David replied, looking down the deserted street. “I told you not to play those shoot-em-up video games”

“
It wasn’t a dream,” Alex insisted. “I saw them with my own two eyes.”

Adam sighed. He knew his son’s imagination tended to run away with him, but this was something entirely different. Maybe he was seeing illusions. That was possible, right? He thought he remembered reading something about that on the internet. Some university professor had started a nation-wide study to learn what caused delusions…

“
Look! There’s one now!”

Alex jumped up and down excitedly.

For a second, Adam didn’t know what to say. He just sat there, gazing into the darkness, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t sleeping. There was something out there after all, and it was lumbering through the moonlight not fifty yards away.

“
What the hell…?”

The figure walked with a pronounced limp, its right leg dragging behind it like a wet noodle. Every now and then it would stop, scratch its overly developed pectorals, and gaze into the crescent moon as if monitoring its position in the sky. Then its shoulders would sag and it would amble further down the street, one… step… at… a… time.

“
What is it?” Alex murmured.

“
I… I don’t know,” was Adam’s only response. “Maybe someone got into a car accident.”

“
And burned all the skin off their body?”

Alex was right. The figure really didn’t have a layer of protective tissue covering his muscles. It was like all his skin had been burned off his body, leaving a twisted, mangled knot of muscle tissue behind. Adam swallowed. There were certain spots on the creature’s thigh and calves where you could see his bones, encased in gooey, dripping mounds of muscle and fat. It was repulsive. Simply and completely repulsive.

“
I told you there was something out there.”

Alex pressed his face against the glass. Never once did his eyes leave the mangled apparition, following its progress with a mixture of shock and horror. Until a second figure appeared, that is. And this time it was closer, passing right in front of their motel window.

Adam eased away from the glass. He didn’t know if the creature could see them, but he didn’t want to take any chances. This one was different from the first. It didn’t possess the same gross muscle mass, but it was equally as hideous. Where its eyes should have been were empty sockets, and tongues of juicy pink flesh hung from the hollows. It wore a pink cowboy hat and broken aviator sunglasses.

“
Alex, get away from the glass.”

“
Why?”

“
Just do it.”

Adam pulled his son onto the bed just as the creature looked their direction. He didn’t think it could sense them, but he didn’t want to take that chance.

For a moment the creature didn’t move. It just stood there, twitching its ruined, bloody nose. Then it turned away and shambled into the darkness, taking refuge in the solitary autumn night.

“
What were those things?” Alex whispered.

“
I don’t know,” Adam whispered back. “But I sure as hell don’t want to find out.”

Chapter 11

Adam didn’t sleep much that night. His waking mind wouldn’t let him. The images of those horrible, desiccated creatures kept coming back, repulsive in their clarity. He tried to forget the naked muscles and the bloody eye stalks, but of course that was impossible. No one could forget such a terrible sight. Not for a good fifty years, at least.

The room was bright when he opened his eyes. Bright red, that is. The billowing smog gave the sunlight an eerie crimson tinge. Adam wondered if there was any place in town not affected by the toxic residue. He sure hadn’t seen any when he drove through yesterday.

Alex twitched in the bed beside him. His son had fallen asleep with his headphones clamped over his ears. Music had always helped him sleep better.

Adam sighed. Even though he couldn’t see how incessant guitar solos and pounding snare drums could possibly aid a good night’s sleep, he’d decided not to argue. The kid had been through a lot over the past few days. First he’d been pulled out of his school, his home, his native city, and then dragged halfway across the United States to a town roughly the size of an acorn.

Talk about a sudden change
.

Adam slunk across the room, trying not to rouse his son. The doorknob was cold, and the bathroom door squeaked when he opened it, but otherwise his mission was a success. Leaning over the outdated ceramic sink, he tried to rouse his weary mind. The guilt of running away from Chicago was bad enough, but now he had to worry about misshapen, primordial beings wandering the streets.