Friday, 6 April 2012

Contractions - VII (Josh)


VII

            The cemetery seemed totally different in the pitch darkness.  Josh's eyes had adjusted enough to allow him to see the faint traces of fog drifting through the black and the outline of each headstone as it loomed out of the dark.  It made the world feel both impossibly large and claustrophobic, but for Josh it was just new.

            The grass beneath his feet crunched softly with every step and he could still feel his breath condensing in the air.  He quickened his pace to keep out the chill and made his way on towards the ruined mausoleum.  Bare branched trees struck out towards him unexpectedly, smaller headstones, pot holes and the edges of paths served to trip him up.

            Then the ground rose slightly, became less manicured and he found he was walking along the side of a low stone wall.  He reached out a hand towards it, felt the rough crystal mixture of ice-cold granite and the crumbling remains of mortar.  He was nearly there.

            He followed the wall around until he found a gap and then he made his way into the enclosure.  He kept on straight ahead, aware of towers of masonry jutting out to either side and broken headstones beyond.  An arch passed overhead, the air became still.  He sighed and the echo carried around the space in front of him.  He reached into his pockets, found an old lighter (but using it wouldn't have brought him closer to her) and then flicked it on.  The tiny flame wavered slightly then became steady and the mausoleum flickered into view dimly.

            It wasn't a very large space.  It's walls were mostly intact, with small alcoves for flowers or candles long since left bare.  There were holes near the roof at the side and the front half had collapsed leaving piles of debris either side of the archway.  Two stone sarcophagi lay side by side in the centre, sealed by weight and time.

            He walked slowly around them, drinking in the combined atmosphere of stone and cold and night and flame.  His pale blue eyes were held wide open, reflecting the spark he held in his hands.

            There was a small altar at the far end.  Its surface was granite, like everything else, but there were veins of reddish brown running across it, like iron.  He stretched his hand over its surface and felt the roughness.  It came away covered in dry flakes, which he dusted off on his jacket.

            As he turned back towards the archway the light sputtered for a second and then flickered out.  He tried it a couple more times but there was no fuel left for the sparks to light.

            "Don't need any light anyway...” His voice echoed.

            He felt his way over to one of the sarcophagi and climbed on top, lying across it.  It amused him to cross his arms over his chest for a while.  His legs hung over the side and he kicked his heels against the stone.  He thought about Paige and his hand slowly found its way down to the zipper on his jeans.
           
            There was a scream and he sat bolt upright.

            It had come from the direction of the apartments.

            His blood was racing and he felt sweat coming out in droplets on his forehead.  He pulled his zip back up and hopped off the slab, stepping towards the door.

            The scream came again and he thought that he could pinpoint it this time.  He ran forward, nearly tripping over debris in the short avenue from the mausoleum and then he was holding his hands out, trying to find the wall to the car park.  He felt the pressure suddenly against his wrists, the cold stone making a hard buffer.  He slid his hands up its surface, feeling for the top.  Stretching onto his toes he managed to get a grip and starting hauling himself up.  His head just crested the top and then he saw the orange red light from the second storey window.

            A shadow rose in front of him.

            He fell.

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