Tim Curran - The Devil Next Door

“Why isn’t something being done?” Macy wanted to know. “They can’t…they can’t just let this happen. Where are the police?”

Louis was wondering the same thing himself. They should have been out in force, but he had yet to see a single patrol car. Though, in the distance, he was hearing sirens. Lots of sirens. He couldn’t be sure if they were police vehicles or ambulances or fire trucks, but there were a lot of them.

He’d only seen a small portion of the town now, but he suspected it was going on everywhere. If that was the case, there would be way more happening than the locals could handle. Even with the state and county boys chipping in, it would be way too much. They would need the National Guard or something. Maybe they were already on their way and maybe not. Because, realistically, whatever was turning people into maniacs and animals, it wouldn’t just be afflicting the civilians. Cops, too, would be mad as hatters.

Seeing it, unable to understand any of it, left him feeling confused and reeling. A chill went up his spine. It was just too much. A few crazy people was scary…but an entire town?

A country?

A world?

This is nothing, Louis, a voice coldly informed him. This is absolutely nothing. You just wait until tonight. It’ll be dark soon and then you’ll see some shit. Oh yes, you certainly will.

But he had no intention on being around by then.

Macy had had an episode herself, but it had been temporary. Was he hoping for too much in thinking that maybe it would only be temporary with the others, too? Was that even possible now? He didn’t and couldn’t know. But, the fact remained that he had not gone crazy. He had no wild urges or black thoughts. Absolutely nothing.

Not yet.

But if Earl Gould’s theories were true-and Louis was beginning to think they were-then it was only a matter of time.

Regardless, if he was still normal, there had to be others. Maybe those quiet neighborhoods were full of normal people. People that had decided to lock their doors and wait things out. But what happened when the crazies were the majority? What happened tonight when they took the town and started kicking in doors and diving through windows, slaughtering the last of the rational ones?

Louis felt more afraid than he’d ever been in his life.

He wanted to drive out of town before such a thing became impossible, but he couldn’t abandon Macy and he sure as hell could not just leave Michelle. And just where could he drive to? Another town filled with savages?

His hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel, his teeth chattering. He had to do something, say something. Macy was just beside herself.

“Listen to me, Macy,” he finally said, trying to sound cool and collected and probably failing miserably. “I need to get down town, I need to find Michelle. When we do, we’re going to find that uncle of yours. What’s his name?”

“Clyde,” she said. “Clyde Chenier.”

“Okay, we’ll track him down.”

“And if he’s nuts?”

“We’ll deal with that then.”

But she was not reassured in the least. She was a tough kid. Louis fully realized that now, if he hadn’t before. She was tough as nails. She was shaking in her seat, wanting to come apart, wanting to cry and scream and whimper, but she wasn’t. And she wasn’t because she was literally holding herself together.

“Macy,” he said to her, touching her hand. “I’m going to get you out of this, okay?”

She nodded.

“I don’t know what this is about, but we’ll figure it out.”

She turned and looked at him. “But it’s not just here, Louis. It’s everywhere.”

He turned on the radio. Very few stations were even on the air and those that were, were not broadcasting live. Just taped stuff.

The local station was WDND, Cozy 102. It was the butt of endless jokes by the locals. But it was the only one broadcasting out of Greenlawn. Macy punched up the AM band and found 102 quickly enough. Louis didn’t have it programmed in. An old school thrasher of the Black Sabbath/Deep Purple ilk, he just couldn’t handle that tirade of elevator music. Give him some Zeppelin or Nazareth, but go easy on Bobby Vinton and The Kingston Trio.

“Here it is,” Macy said, turning up the volume.

For a moment or two, there was only a building static that made them both tense up. Then the announcer came on, the same morbid-voiced guy who did the Daily Obituary Report at noon every day. He droned on in his usual monotone: “Well, that was ‘April in Paris’ by Count Basie and his Orchestra. And before that, we had ‘See Saw’ by the Moonglows. Boy, I remember that one like it was yesterday. Yes, it’s another lovely day in downtown Greenlawn. The sun is shining and the birds are singing and allll is right with world. Now don’t go away, we got more mellow sounds for a mellow evening…Bobby Darin and the immortal Patsy Cline singing, ‘Crazy.’

“ You gotta love that. Craaazeeee. It really fits, don’t it? I don’t even know if anyone’s listening by this point. In case any of you are, there’s been no news out of continental Europe for six hours now. Same for Australia. In the Middle East, Tehran is burning. CNN reports that London is completely blacked-out. Satellite images confirm that the only light in London town is from burning buildings. God help us. And here at home…here at home, New York has fallen. There’s a firestorm sweeping through LA. Chicago is a warzone. Don’t know about anything else…internet is down now. Lost my AP feed an hour ago. I’m going to sign off now. Nothing left to say. Cozy 102 won’t be broadcasting tomorrow. There won’t be anyone left by then who even knows what a radio is. And, really, there won’t be a tomorrow, will there? Only darkness. Bonfires and stone knives by this time next week, animals hunting in the streets…most of them of the two-legged variety. Now comes the time of the primal fall…

“ Behold, darkness will cover the earth…and night cover the nations of man…

“ May God help us…”

Louis reached out and killed the radio.

Maybe the dead immensity of what was happening to the world did not hit him until that very moment. He heard Macy make a moaning sound next to him, but she was light years away. The realization of it all was like a storm of dust and debris and spinning shit inside his head. A sweat that was neither cold nor hot broke out on his face and his teeth locked together so hard that his molars ached. Everything canted this way, then that, and he knew he was going to pass out. Prickly heat swam up his belly to his chest.

That kid and those cops and the mailman and Macy’s mother hanging in the cellar and Dick Starling had only been appetizers. Just the beginning.

Louis was going to black out. God help him, but he was going to black out. He swung the wheel and hit the brakes, popping the curb. Then slowly, the world stopped spinning and he was just sitting there behind the wheel with Macy.

She looked at him and her eyes misted with tears.

“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m okay.”

But he wasn’t. A person with a tumor chewing a hole in their belly could say they were okay, too, but it didn’t make it so. Something had settled into this world and you didn’t need eyes to see it, you could feel whatever it was. It had settled into every stick of wood and every brick, every roofing tile and every leaf of every tree. It had consumed and polluted. And what it had done to the flesh and blood things of that town was hideous beyond imagining.

Louis sat there, hearing old Mr. Morbid on the radio, again and again: And, really, there won’t be a tomorrow, will there? Only darkness. Bonfires and stone knives by this time next week, animals hunting in the streets…most of them of the two-legged variety. Now comes the time of the primal fall…Behold, darkness will cover the earth…and night cover the nations of man…