C.E. Murphy - Thunderbird Falls

I admired how my brain was trying to derail me. It didn’t want to think about the Thing being semisolid. It didn’t want to think about the Thing growing larger even as I watched. It certainly didn’t want to think about the Thing being the Dead Zone serpent with a particular vendetta against me. Well. Vendetta might be a little strong. It wanted to eat me. I had, in fact, agreed to let it, too. It just wanted what I’d promised.

I decided that from the point of view of the one who was going to be eaten, that was enough like a vendetta. Then I bonked my forehead on the floor and set my teeth together. Focus, Joanne .

I wasn’t going to be able to get the serpent out of here by playing maiden-and-unicorn. I wasn’t at all sure the damned thing would fit through the door. I heard it pop through another growth spurt above me, and revised that upward: it wouldn’t fit through the door. Then again, in its semisolid state, that might not matter; doors might be irrelevant. I began to crawl backward, whispering, “Heeeere, snakey snakey snake. C’mere, snake.” I heard it rustle upward, the sound more in the backs of my ear bones than in my ears, and dared to peek up.

Only then did I realize my vision was completely inverted, the sunlight through the window spilling in black and making patches of shadow against the serpent. I’d adapted. Funny what a body can get used to. I wondered if Melinda’s shirt was really orange, or if I’d lost my color vision before that.

The serpent, staring down at me, didn’t look inclined to move. I whispered, “Here, snakey snake,” again and backed up a few more inches. It followed me with its gaze, stopping when its head came up against the doorjamb. It would fit, if only just. The damned thing’s head was three feet wide. The spires on its back might not fit at all. I bit my lip and backed up some more. “C’mon, master serpent. I owe you one, don’t I? Why don’t we go outside where you can eat me.”

It flicked its tongue out, looking amused, and settled back down in its coils. I swore and hit the floor with my fist. “Look, goddamn it, you’re going to be stuck in here anyway, if you don’t come with me. This room’s not big enough for you. Just come on already.” I sat back on my heels and glared at it. It flicked its tongue complacently and shivered a few of its spires before the whole creature cracked and popped and enlarged again. I watched it fill another six square inches of the kitchen, and understood.

It didn’t need to fit into the room. The room would fit it, eventually. The bigger and more solid it got, the less the building structure would be able to accommodate it. The serpent would destroy Billy and Mel’s house unless I could get it out of there. I got to my feet. “It’s not going to be this easy,” I warned it. It blinked lidless eyes at me and hissed, as close to a laugh as I ever wanted to hear from a snake. I shook my head and nerved myself up to turning my back on it.

I had a plan.

Mel looked more cheerful with a half pint of ice cream in her, but her expression darkened as I came into the bedroom. “What’s wrong? Are the kids okay?”

“The kids are fine.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “What time’s Billy get off work tonight?”

“Seven, if there aren’t any crises. Why?” Melinda tightened her fingers around her plastic spoon like she’d use it as a weapon against me. I twisted my mouth, studying her and trying to judge how much truth I should impart. “Dammit, Joanne,” she said, “stop looking at me like that. I’m a cop’s wife. I can handle it. What the hell is wrong?”

“There’s a monster in your kitchen.” I winced as the words came out. Mel’s eyebrows went up a fraction of an inch.

“You mean besides my terminally hungry eleven-year-old son?”

I smiled a little. “Yeah, besides that. There’s, um… Crap. Before you got assigned to bed, did you see, like, weird animals and things around?”

Melinda exhaled, her shoulders dropping. “Of course I did. The last two days, everything’s been nasty. The weather’s too hot and everyone’s crabby, like they’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. My grandma was a bruja , Joanne. Me and Bill met at a paranormal events convention fifteen years ago. Oh, and don’t give me that tight-mouthed look. You think I don’t know what’s been going on with you? Even if you hadn’t gone tearing off from the equinox dinner like your tail was on fire, Bill tells me everything anyway.”

“Yeah?” I smiled weakly. “Did he caper around you saying, ‘I told her so’?”

“Yeah, some.” Melinda grinned, but it fell away almost immediately. “So what’s in the kitchen?”

“A serpent. I mean, not just a serpent, but a sea-serpent. I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s huge. I want to call in some backup and see if we can get rid of it. I’d rather have you and the kids out of the house, but I’m not sure we’ve got that much time.”

Melinda started to sit up farther. I put my hand on her shoulder, shaking my head. “No way, no how, sweetheart. You’re staying in bed. When Billy comes home he can pick you up and carry you out of here, but you’re not walking around, young lady. And I honestly don’t think there’s any immediate danger.”

Mel eyed me skeptically. “Honest,” I repeated. “I’m gonna cancel the solstice party and get my friends to come over. With any luck we’ll get this thing out of here before Billy even comes home, and I think that’ll make you feel better. Meantime I’ll keep an eye on it and the kids and you. If anything starts to look worse, we’ll figure out a plan B, okay?”

Melinda sucked her cheeks in and glared at me. “All right,” she said. “All right, but you’ve got to keep me in the loop, Joanne. It’s the only way to make it work.”

I grinned lopsidedly as I stood up. “Is that police procedure, or relationship advice?”

Melinda’s eyebrows quirked again. “Some of both.” She nodded at the door. “Go on. Get that Thing out of my house.”

By six-thirty, the serpent overflowed the kitchen. Rounded stretches of scales and muscle curved through the walls and spilled onto the backyard lawn and into the dining room. Robert’s bedroom was directly above the kitchen; when I looked into it, the serpent lifted its head through the floor and gave me a flat, silver-eyed stare. The house was still standing, even though if I put my hand against one of the creature’s shining scales and pushed I felt resistance before falling through. I had a half-assed theory at the back of my mind that because I was sentient and able to accept the thing as real, it was more real for me than for the house, which dealt solely in things which were there or not there. There was no in between stage. I had a few moments of longing for the days when there’d been no in between for me, either, but the wish didn’t last long. It was easier to accept in the thick of things than from a remove of a couple months, or even just a day or two.

“Joanne?”

I pulled out of Rob’s doorway and closed the door behind me. Garth stood at the head of the stairs, smiling so hard it felt like he might lighten the mood in the whole house. No one was exactly grumpy, but everyone, even Erik, the two-year-old, was nervous and twitchy. Melinda was gnashing her teeth with the frustration of being useless. Faye’d taken up a post at Mel’s bedside, keeping her occupied with stories while everybody else arrived. “Hey, Garth. You made it. Is that everybody?”

“Marcia’s not here yet. But there’s somebody downstairs who wants to see you.”

Morrison . Cold nerves laced around my stomach and tightened so hard I burped. Garth blinked and grinned. I rubbed my hand over my stomach and managed a smile. I couldn’t think how the hell Morrison had found out what was going on here, or why he’d care. Well, Billy would’ve told him, maybe, but why would he care? I straightened my shoulders and put on my best brave soldier face. “Okay.” I thumped down the stairs behind Garth.