William Meikle - The Hole

“I guess you’ve just been deputized, son. Welcome to law enforcement.”

Fred wondered just what he’d let himself in for. The Sheriff must have seen it in his face, and laughed softly.

“Don’t worry, lad. I’m not sending anyone out into the night. I just need somebody to stand by the back door and keep watch.”

One thought came immediately.

“There ain’t no floodlights out back,” he said, dismayed to hear the tremor that crept into his voice. “What if that—thing—comes back?”

Doc was now at the sheriff’s side.

“Keep the kitchen lights on at all times,” she said. “And I’ll have a look and see if there’s a flashlight around here somewhere.”

“The sun will be up before too long,” the sheriff added. “And then maybe we can find out exactly what’s going on here—and maybe even get some sleep.”

I wouldn’t bet on it .

Charlie gave Fred a smile and a mock salute as they made their way to the kitchen. Sarah went with him, her grip on his hand never loosening.

He opened the back door slowly. There was some light beyond it, and he was happy to see a lit bulb immediately above the door on the outside. It didn’t light up much beyond a couple of yards of the backyard, but it was enough to ease his mind somewhat about having to stand in darkness.

He immediately regretted ever leaving the warm seat in the bar, but when Sarah leaned into him and put her head on his chest, the booze was quickly forgotten. He lit a cigarette and stared out into the blackness, trying not to let his imagination run wild, trying not to remember everything else that had happened in recent hours.

There was a row of trees out there somewhere—he knew that, but it was still so dark that they couldn’t be seen apart from their making a darker shadow just at the edge of his vision. Here at the rear of the kitchen he couldn’t hear any sound from the bar, and there was no noise out in the darkness. Once again he was struck by the absence of bird sound, and it had been hours since he’d heard a dog bark. A cloak of silence had fallen over the town, and all he heard was Sarah’s soft breathing and the hiss of burning ash at the end of his smoke as he inhaled.

The quiet seeped into him, and he even began to relax—only to almost jump out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He let out a small yelp when he turned to see someone behind him.

“It’s only me,” Doc said. “I found you a flashlight.”

Sarah surprised him by reaching out and taking the flashlight from Doc, immediately spraying the beam around the backyard. It lit up a row of garbage bins, a stack of empty beer barrels and a rusted, wheel-less pickup, raised up on bricks. There was no sign of any movement. Sarah seemed happy with that, switched off the flashlight, and once again lowered her head to Fred’s chest.

“You’ve got a new friend,” Doc said.

Fred smiled.

“It would seem so,” he said. “And I intend to do right by her. You can tell Big Bill I said that.”

It was Doc’s turn to smile back.

“You’ve surprised him enough for one night, I think.”

All three of them stood together for a while, looking out into the darkness.

“So, fess up, Doc,” Fred said as he ground out his smoke on the doorjamb and flicked the butt out into the night. “What do you know?”

She took a while to reply.

“I don’t really know anything. I have suspicions though…”

“Isn’t it time you shared them?”

She looked tired, and maybe even a little afraid.

“I’m not sure that sharing will do anyone any good. But I suppose you have a right to know.”

She told him about the demons they’d encountered at Hopman’s Hollow, and the protoplasm that was left behind.

“It wasn’t anything I recognized. There’s nothing in my training or reading that leads me to believe that such a thing is even possible.”

Fred was thinking again about the glass spinning like a top above the Ouija board as Doc continued.

“It may be that we’re here at the birth of a completely new species.”

Fred remembered something from an earlier conversation with Charlie.

“Toxic chemicals can cause mutations, can’t they? If I’m remembering my schooling right?”

Doc nodded. “In some cases.”

He told her Charlie’s story, about what he’d seen and what they’d dumped in the mines. Doc went pale.

“That’s something the CDC needs to know. And fast.”

“I might be misrepresenting Charlie,” Fred said. “And you know how he is… it might be just another story but…”

Janet nodded.

“It’s a big enough but for us to take heed of it. I’ll go and talk to him.”

She gave his shoulder a squeeze in gratitude, and left.

Almost as soon as Doc had gone, Sarah switched on the flashlight again and made another sweep of the backyard. She stopped at the rusting hulk of the pickup and moved the beam quickly along the length of the vehicle and back again. The dancing shadows gave it the impression of movement.

“Did you see something?” Fred whispered.

“Just the bears,” she sobbed, switched off the light and buried her face in his chest.

They stayed that way for a while. Fred had another smoke, and Sarah’s breathing calmed—so much so that he thought she must have fallen back into sleep. He was surprised when the flashlight came back on. This time she had it trained straightaway on the rusted pickup truck.

“There’s something there,” she whispered. “In the passenger seat.”

Her hand shook so much that the beam of light bobbed alarmingly over the vehicle, once again giving the semblance of movement. Fred reached to take the flashlight from her hand. And at the same instant the shadows inside the truck moved. Legs swung out of the passenger side, and as the beam moved, it showed the rest of the body climbing out of the vehicle.

An old man wearing gray overalls coated in dust and grime stepped out the truck. He carried a pickaxe and wore a hard hat with a broken lamp at the front. Fred grabbed at the edge of the door, ready to slam it shut.

But the figure showed no sign of moving towards them. Fred waved the light on it. Where the beam hit it, the body seemed to waver, almost melt before hardening back into some kind of solidity.

Damn thing is hardly there at all.

Sarah had her face buried in his chest again, and he felt the tension grip her.

“Stay back,” Fred shouted.

“Fred is dead,” the miner replied, the phrase echoing in the backyard until it seemed to come from a chorus of voices. “Fred is dead.”

Two seconds later Fred and Sarah were in the kitchen having slammed the door shut. They stood there, breathing heavily, just staring at each other until Fred’s heart stopped thudding in his ears and his breathing slowed to something approaching normal.

He listened for a long time, but there was no further sound from outside.

Janet was still arguing with the sheriff when the sun came up.

“I’m telling you,” she said. “The CDC needs to hear this. If what Charlie says is true, then the mines must be the source of what is going on here.”

“And I’m telling you ,” Bill replied. “I’m not letting anyone else run around out there. Ellen Simmons ain’t come back, and I doubt we’ll see her anytime soon. Or will you argue with me on that score too?”

They stood in the doorway of The Roadside. The parking lot lights still blazed, but as the sky lightened so too did their impact lessen. That had Janet worried, but there was no sign of any further attacks . She was about to remonstrate with Bill when a car alarm sounded somewhere to their left, followed by the telltale buzz in her ears and at her jaw.