Friday, 21 September 2012

Stillborn V (Charlie)


V - Charlie

            There was a department store and a shopping centre at the end of James Street.  Charlie still had a vivid memory of visiting it when he was very little with his mother, sometime before his parents had separated.  It had seemed so huge to him then, huge and full of adventures.  He remembered climbing under the clothes rails whilst his mother looked for a new dress and finding all the forgotten size markers which had fallen off the hangers.  They were like buried treasure to him, precious and exciting.  More than that, though, he had felt safe in the cosy darkness beneath the rail.  It was another world and one far, far away from his father.

            Charlie couldn’t see the department store now.  It was too dark and the fog was too thick.  Normally at this time of year it would be all lit up against the night and, during shopping hours at least, decked out with all the lights of Christmas.  It seemed like nowhere was more Christmassy than the windows of that shop, but nowhere was less so than the dark, foggy street they were walking now.

            They were probably about halfway along James street when they first heard.  It was Josh who noticed first, of course.  He stopped still a few feet ahead of everyone else and asked, “Does anyone else hear that?”

            “Hear what?” Paige asked, concerned.

            “Oh god,” Josh said and Charlie started to feel the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end, because Josh sounded really scared and that could not mean anything good.

            “What is it?” Henry asked.

            “Don’t you hear it?  A sort of sound that’s not a sound?”

            They listened and sure enough, there it was.  Charlie would have struggled to describe it had he been asked, but there was something, an absence of sound that was entirely unnatural.  It sounded slick somehow, and yet there was no sound.  After a moment Paige gasped.

            “Yes,” she said, voice quivering, “I remember hearing it too.”

            “It’s getting louder,” Henry added.

            All around them the fog seemed to be thickening, cutting their already limited vision down to barely nothing.  It was getting hard to tell which way was which, although Charlie knew they hadn’t moved and so they must still be facing towards the end of the street and that unseen department store of treasured memory.  Josh was staring into the fog with wild eyes, his head flicking one way and then the next, as if he had any hope of seeing anything to warn them of where the thing was coming, but Charlie could see that they had no such hope and that, really, there was only one thing they could do.

            And so he ran.

            “Charlie, no!” came Paige’s voice from behind as he ran forward, slipped past Josh and continued to pelt down the street.  A few seconds later, however, he could hear their footfalls as they chased after him and, despite the panic, despite the effort of running, he felt relief.  As long as everyone was running, and in the right direction, there was probably some hope.

            The run was confusing.  Charlie could only see a few feet in front of his face and, if he looked down, enough of the pavement to know that he was still following the street and not cutting a diagonal.  The no-noises that Josh had noticed first were growing louder and increasing in intensity, suggesting more than one monster making them.  They seemed to be coming from all around, but Charlie couldn’t see anything.  He tried not to worry about what would happen if he ran into one.

            Something moved in the fog just to one side of him and he let out a shriek that immediately had Paige shouting after him, but only seconds later and she was screaming too.
            “There are dozens of them,” she screamed.

            “What the hell?”  That was Henry.

            And then Charlie saw another, just ahead, that he had to slide past to avoid.  It wasn’t so much a monster in the fog as it was a monster made of fog.  Incorporeal and yet strangely solid in its vaporous horror, it appeared to have a central mass on legs like miniature thunder clouds and tentacle arms.  One tentacle shot out towards him as he ran past but missed by a narrow margin.  He felt the clammy coolness of it brush his skin.

            Behind him the others were running and shouting and screaming,  but he couldn’t worry about them.  All he could do was keep running and hope that the department store was as much a place of safety as he remembered it.

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