William Meikle - The Hole

She dangled the squad car keys in her fingers.

“I’m heading for the car, and then to find a way to safety. Who’s with me?”

Much to Fred’s surprise several of the wounded stood up, three of them, three more than he had expected. They moved to join Ellen Simmons as she headed for the door.

“We can fit a couple more in, at a squeeze,” she said, hand on the door handle.

Nobody took her up on it.

“I’ll head for the county sheriff,” she said. “I know he’s got more backbone than Bill Wozniak. He’ll be here with help in no time. Just you wait and see.”

She pushed the door open, starting to head out.

“I wouldn’t do that. There ain’t nowhere to go, Ellen,” Charlie said from behind the bar. “Nowhere safe, no how.”

“And why would I listen to you, Charlie Watson? You’ve been drunk so long you don’t know up from down.”

Charlie raised a beer glass and smiled.

“Ain’t no skin off my nose, darling,” he said. “Just don’t let your wounded pride get you killed. Don’t let it get these other folks killed.”

She sniffed at him as if he were a piece of bad meat, and turned back to the open door.

“We’ll be back with help before you know it,” she said. “I promise.”

“We’ll be here,” Charlie replied.

The door closed behind the four as they left.

“Best get through here, Sheriff,” Charlie shouted.

Charlie’s shout woke the girl up with a start. She made to pull herself away, then seemed to realize where she was and kept her head on Fred’s shoulder. She maintained a strong grip on his arm.

Don’t look like she’s aiming to give me up anytime soon.

He found he wasn’t displeased at the idea, but when the sheriff came back into the bar from the kitchen, Fred stood up, ready to help if needed. The girl stood too, still holding on to his arm for dear life.

“What happened?” the Sheriff asked, looking around the bar area.

Charlie waved towards the door.

“Ellen Simmons took off,” he said. “Her and three others. Said she was headed for your car, then points west.”

For a second Fred thought that the sheriff might just shrug and let it lie, but he saw the squeeze on the arm that Doc gave him.

“You’ve got to stop her, Bill. I know she’s a pain in the ass… but she’s one of us. Part of our town. We need to save what we can.”

Fred, with Sarah attached, joined Doc and the sheriff as they headed for the door. The sheriff got there first, opened the door wide and yelled out.

“Ellen. Get your stupid butt back here.”

Doc laughed.

“Not exactly what I would have said. But at least if she’s within hearing distance, she won’t be able to stop herself from answering back.”

There was no reply. Fred stood behind the sheriff, trying to see past him. All he could see was the small patch of ground lit from the lights inside the bar. Beyond there was only dense blackness. Although they’d only left a matter of seconds before, there was no sign of the party of four.

Bill turned away.

“She’s determined. I’ll give her that.”

“Ellen!” Doc shouted, to no avail. Bill took Doc’s arm.

“I doubt she’ll make it as far as the squad car. They’ll get spooked by the dark and run back here. Any second now.”

“Here they come,” Sarah said softly.

Something moved in the dark, and Fred suddenly felt in need of a drink as it came forward into view.

It was big, red and seemed to be on fire. Half as big again as a man, and standing on two legs, a demon walked out of the dark. It stopped just at the edge of where the light fell on the parking spots outside. Muscles bunched under tight skin, and when it smiled, it showed twin rows of sharp teeth like a shark.

Big Bill tensed, and drew his pistol.

“Stop or I’ll shoot.”

The demon stopped, head tilted, as if confused by this new sound. It showed no sign of either coming forward, or retreating, just stood there. It was hard to tell in the gloom, but Fred got the distinct impression it was smiling.

“They’re learning,” Doc whispered. Fred had no idea what that meant, but it didn’t sound good.

Not good at all.

Doc turned to speak to Fred directly.

“Do you know where the external light switch is? The one for the car park floods?”

Fred nodded. He only had to move three feet to the side of the door, but Sarah moved with him, still gripping tightly to his arm. He used his free hand to flick the switch. Light blazed outside, the demon finally fully visible. It was strangely unformed, smooth and wrinkle free; a bland, featureless face save for two buttonhole eyes and the toothy smile. Even that faded as the light hit it. It melted and ran like a knob of butter on a hot skillet. It backed away almost immediately, sloughing off bubbling flesh, and lumbered off into the darkness, leaving a trail of glistening slime behind it.

Fred reached for the light switch.

“No,” Doc said. “Leave it on. It may be the only protection we have.”

She knows more than she’s letting on.

Fred was about to ask more, but Doc put a finger to her lips.

“Later,” she mouthed.

Fred saw why when he turned back to the bar. Everybody else was staring at them, quizzical looks on their faces.

They didn’t see it. Big Bill blocked their view.

Charlie obviously was another who knew more than he was letting on. The older man poured a beer and as Fred went back to his seat, he came round the bar and handed it over.

“Trust me, son, you’ll want it.”

Fred wasn’t about to argue. The rest of the survivors started throwing questions at Big Bill and Doc, leaving Fred with his beer… and Sarah. She didn’t say a word, just grabbed his arm tight, put her head on his shoulder, and went back to sleep.

Part of Fred wanted to do the same, just close his eyes and succumb to oblivion for a while and hope the dreams stayed away. But the sight of the demon refused to leave him alone and he remained resolutely awake. It felt like a year since he’d woken the previous day, before his life had been turned upside down and inside out.

By the time he’d had a smoke and finished most of the beer, many of the survivors had, like Sarah, fallen into fitful sleep. Charlie was one of the few still awake. He still sat at the bar, sipping another in an unending line of beers, but the older man seemed to be clear-eyed and remarkably sober—alert even, as if on edge. Looking at him now, Fred could see the young soldier he once had been, not the town drunk who did the jobs no one else wanted to do. More than that, Fred caught a glimpse of what might be waiting for himself in the future; a lonely man in a bar, on the watch for monsters.

Because there will always be monsters.

Like Fred, Doc and the sheriff looked determined to stay awake. While Fred sipped the last of his beer they spoke, heads close, whispering, in an exchange that became heated before the sheriff broke off and walked over to stand above Fred.

“Doc says I can trust you,” the big man said. “I ain’t so sure, but I need some help.”

That looked to be as close as the sheriff was going to get to pleading. Fred tried to stand, but Sarah kept him down in his seat until he gently moved her away. She grabbed at his hand as he rose, and clutched it, hard.

“I got somebody to look after now,” Fred said to the sheriff. “But as long as it don’t put her back into more danger than we’re in already, I’m your man.”

The sheriff smiled and looked like a completely different man, as if a weight had just lifted. He took Fred’s free hand and shook it.