Clickers. Part 24

"By all means," the Colonel said. "Private Donaldson has some toiletries for you to use. Get cleaned up and be ready in fifteen minutes."

Private Donaldson stepped up and handed Rick a small canvas bag. Rick mustered a smile. "Be ready in a second." He headed toward the bathroom.

When he emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later they were waiting for him. Rick stepped out feeling a little refreshed, but more nervous than he'd felt since the arrival of the Clickers three nights before. What the h.e.l.l did the military want to question him for? With these thoughts in mind, he followed Colonel Richrath and two privates to a waiting car. Private Donaldson held the rear door open for him as he climbed in.

They didn't have to travel for very long. The driver, another private with a somber face, piloted the car down Route 193, then turned down Route 9. They continued on that road for thirty minutes, pa.s.sing silos, barns, and open, rolling country. They reached the outskirts of a small town-which one, Rick wasn't sure, because he wasn't paying attention to the road signs-and pulled into the driveway of a white building. They drove around to the rear.

The lot was filled with military vehicles; jeeps, trucks designed to carry bunkers of soldiers with machine guns in war, trucks designed to carry missiles. They were at an armory. The private pulled the vehicle into a parking slot and killed the engine. The rear door opened and the private next to him exited the vehicle.

Rick followed him out and they were met by two more privates and another official-looking man in military uniform. This man was middle-aged, distinguished, dark hair graying at the temples. He stood tall and straight. He nodded briskly at Rick and held out his hand. "Richard Sychek, I presume?"

"That's me," Rick said. He shook the man's hand.

"I'm Colonel Livingston, US Army. We'd like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind. It won't take much of your time."

"Sure. Did you bring Melissa here, too?"

They were walking toward the building now. "Melissa Peterson? Yes, she was brought here shortly before you. After we question you, we'll take you out to breakfast and you can both go."

"Fine with me," Rick said. But inside he didn't feel that way. Instead, he felt a sickening sense of dread well over him as they entered the building.

The questioning was in reality more like the third degree.

They seated Rick in a small room that had no windows. The room was right out of a police-procedural suspense film; low lighting, a lone scarred table and a couple of chairs. Rick sat on one side while Colonel Livingston sat on the other flanked by two privates. The questioning started innocently enough; what was he doing in town? Could he clue them in on some background information on why he came to Phillipsport? Rick was wary about giving them such personal information and gave them a simplified version. He filled them in on the basics and then the real questions began. What did he see? What happened? Rick started slowly, beginning with his arrival in Phillipsport and running over the Clicker in the road. He followed that up with meeting Janice Harreleson on the pier the following day, rescuing Bobby from the attacking Clickers, whisking the boy off to Glen Jorgensen's office with Jack Ripley. He related his run-in with Sheriff Conklin, his short stint in the Phillipsport jail. He then went on to explain the arrival of the Dark Ones, and at this the Colonel's features became grave. He remained silent as Rick related how he and Janice watched the creatures maul and destroy the entire town. Then he explained how Janice got him out of the jail cell, how they gathered up whatever weapons they could the following day and ventured out when it appeared the coast was clear. How they made it to the shopping center. How they came upon the others trapped inside the freezer of the supermarket and their attempts at freedom, their various battles with the Dark Ones up until the moment National Guardsmen picked him and Melissa up along Route 1.

Colonel Livingston listened to the story the whole time, nodding politely, stroking his chin occasionally. The privates standing guard remained like statutes, stiff and straight. They didn't react when Rick described the Dark Ones to Colonel Livingston. When Rick was finished he sat back, his throat dry and his stomach empty. He suddenly realized how hungry he was; he was ravenous.

He was about to voice this to Colonel Livingston a second time when the man launched another volley of questions at him, all regarding the Dark Ones. What did they look like, where did he think they came from, what did he think they were? Rick answered as best as he could. He decided to play dumb during the questioning and not even allude to the theories Glen Jorgensen had shared with him in the meat freezer. He had no idea what the Dark Ones were or where they came from. All he knew was that he never wanted to see anything so terrible again.

Colonel Livingston asked him the same questions again, as if to confirm the story, and Rick repeated the same answers. How the h.e.l.l should he know what the green slimy things were? What did he look like? A scientist? Colonel Livingston nodded, stroking his chin. He looked at Rick, thanked him, then rose and walked to the door. He knocked on it and it was opened. Colonel Richrath was on the other side. Livingston leaned out the door and spoke something in his ear. Livingston nodded. Richrath glanced at Rick briefly before departing, and Livingston waited until the other man left before walking back to the table to resume his questioning.

"We questioned Melissa Peterson along the same lines," he said. "Her story matches perfectly with yours in regards to what happened back there. There's just one small problem Colonel Richrath and I both have."

"And what might that be?" Rick asked. He felt tense.

Colonel Livingston leaned forward. "Where are the bodies? There's not one shred of proof that these...Dark Ones, or whatever it is you call them, existed or did this damage. For all we know it could have been something else-"

"There's a dead one in the freezer of the Lucky Supermarket," Rick said quickly. "Trust me. We killed it when it got in. It should still be there. Go check."

Colonel Livingston regarded Rick for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not he was telling the truth. Then he got up and went to the door. He spoke in low tones to somebody outside, then came back and sat down again opposite Rick. "I'm having it checked out now."

"Good."

They waited. The twenty minute wait for confirmation seemed like an hour, and finally when the word came it was delivered quietly to the Colonel as he stood at the half opened door with another military person. Rick waited with bated breath as he tried to pick up on some of the conversation, but the men were talking too low. Finally, Colonel Livingston closed the door. Rick noted that the Colonel's features had changed; it looked like he had just received bad news but was trying his hardest to keep it to himself. He sat down at the table opposite Rick. "Well, this changes everything."

"Did they find it?" Rick asked, heart racing.

"Yes," Colonel Livingston answered.

"And?"

Colonel Livingston sighed. He looked directly at Rick. "I had Colonel Richrath send a team to the supermarket to check out the freezer. When they got there, two men went inside to check the freezer out. They found the...creature, you and Melissa described. Their instructions were to verify that...what you said was in the freezer was still there, then to exit the freezer and secure the building. They're waiting for word from me on what to do next and I don't know what to tell them."

Rick let this sink in. They had the body of the dead Dark One. That was all the proof they needed. "I don't know what they are," Rick said. "But I think this isn't the first time they've made an appearance here." He told Livingston a summarized version of the Lost Village story. Colonel Livingston listened intently, rubbing his jaw with his fingers. "I don't know why they come here once every four hundred years, if indeed that's what happens. All I know is from what Dr. Jorgensen told me about the Lost Village story. That the legend suggests something similar happened to an early British settlement and they were wiped out."

Colonel Livingston rose to his feet and went to the door. "I'll be right back."

Rick waited fifteen minutes, wondering what was going on. He felt both excited and scared by this sudden turn of events. The fact that the body of the dead Dark One was found meant that he and Melissa's story would be believed. What scared him was the uncertain future of what lay ahead. They might not be let back into town for days, weeks, while the clean-up and investigation went on. Worst of all, he still had to face the horror of knowing what happened to Janice Harrelson and Bobby. He had only known them for three days, but their deaths were devastating. He'd felt a connection with Janice that he had never felt with anyone, and it had been severed before it had a chance to take root. He knew that for as long as he lived he would see Janice die over and over again in his nightmares.

He felt the weight of everything that had happened to him come cras.h.i.+ng down on him again. He felt like collapsing with the sheer defeat of the situation, and he would have started crying if he hadn't been interrupted by the sound of the door opening and a familiar voice calling his name. "Rick."

Rick looked up. It was Melissa Peterson. She was standing in the doorway with Colonel Livingston behind her. She looked weary, like she had been through h.e.l.l and back, but she had the look of a survivor. She gave him a smile that said we made it.

We made it.

Rick smiled back and got up. He approached Melissa and hugged her. He dimly heard Colonel Livingston: "I've just gotten word that some scientists from Boston University will be arriving this afternoon to have a look at the specimen found in the freezer. I'm having you two driven back to the shelter so you can get some food. Hopefully, later you can go into town to salvage your belongings."

Rick heard Colonel Livingston, but his encouraging words weren't a concern to him now. He closed his eyes against the tears as all the pain and sorrow he felt for Janice and Bobby came to the surface. He hugged Melissa tight to him and she hugged him back just as tight. As long as Melissa was with him he wouldn't have to go through this alone. They would have each other. They would need each other to get through their respective losses if they were to survive this tragedy.

Rick felt his stomach rumble. He took a deep breath and looked down at Melissa, who was teary-eyed herself, but smiling. They both laughed, more out of relief that they were alive than anything. "Come on," Rick said, rubbing her shoulder as he threw his arm around her. "Let's get something to eat."

Then they turned and walked down the hall toward Colonel Livingston, who stood waiting for them at the exit.

Epilogue.

The Dark Ones had been residing in a cave for the past three days. They'd found it during their initial raid on the sh.o.r.e, and a few of the elders had ventured inside. The cave had quickly become their refuge, and as they sat and huddled within its rocky depths as the storm raged on outside, they slowly grew used to the damp surroundings.

One of the Dark Ones ventured to the mouth of the cave and hesitated as it reached the entrance. They were becoming increasingly more resistant to the light, and now as the sun was dipping in the west it scuttled forward a bit. A large forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air. It breathed through its nostrils, its gills slapping uselessly now along the side of its neck. It could sense more of the people, but they were far enough away for them to be safe. The cave they'd found was farther down the coast from the small town, and it was hidden well from the rocky sh.o.r.e. It cut deep into the rocky sh.o.r.e, and there was a large cavern inside that had a natural lake.

Several of the Dark Ones had already used the lake to bathe in, and several of them liked to rest beside its cool, wet sh.o.r.e. They would be quite safe in this new home for a while. Plus, in time, the people would no longer pose a threat to them. They would serve as a source of nourishment after the long, cold months of winter.

The Dark One scanned the ocean and flicked its tongue out, sensing an arrival of more of its kind. In another moment ripples in the ocean announced the arrival of more Dark Ones coming forth from the watery depths. They emerged from the ocean and crawled up the rocks to the cave, slithering inside as the Dark One moved aside and waited. When they were all safely inside, the Dark One retreated back. Its belly was full and it was warm in the cave, much like it was in a similar cavern that had been their home for so many years. It slithered through to the deepest recesses of their new home where the others were gathered, some curled up together, some alone. They were well satiated, and the feasting they had just partaken in would carry them over well into the spring.

Several of the larger males had planted themselves by the entrance to the large inner cavern, while the older creatures were toward the back. A group of females were curled up in another corner with their eggs, keeping them warm for the long winter ahead. The Dark One looked around and found a spot in the corner by a small female. It settled down next to her. It opened its mouth and yawned, its jaws revealing rows of jagged teeth. The cavern grew quiet as the Dark Ones settled in.

They were asleep in no time.

About the Authors.

J. F. Gonzalez is the author of over a dozen horror and dark suspense t.i.tles including Primitive, The Beloved, Fetish, Survivor, and is the co-author of Clickers II: The Next Wave, and Clickers III: Dagon Rising (both with Brian Keene). His short fiction is collected in Old Ghosts and Other Revenants, Maternal Instinct, When the Darkness Falls, and The Summoning and Other Eldritch Tales. He keeps the lights on in his house by writing all of this, plus non-fiction, screenplays, technical manuals and other corporate communications, and the occasional ghostwritten writer-for-hire novel. He lives in Pennsylvania with his family, where he is currently at work on his next novel. For more information, visit him online at http://www.jfgonzalez.com/ or at http://www.twitter.com/jfgonzalez.

Mark Williams (1959-1998) was a multi-talented artist whose work spanned films and comics. As a Special FX Artist, he has worked with James Cameron, David Cronenberg, and was the chief FX artist for Full Moon Productions. In collaboration with Poison drummer Rikki Rockett, he co-created, wrote, and drew several t.i.tles for the short-lived No Mercy Comics, including Sisters of Mercy and Nightshade. He designed alb.u.m covers for such hard rock bands as Dangerous Toys and Poison, and in the late 1980's and much of the 1990's, was the chief FX artist and coordinator for Alice Cooper's live show. He succ.u.mbed to cancer-related pneumonia on May 28, 1998.

Other Books by J. F. Gonzalez.

Novels.

Conversion Shapes.h.i.+fter.

Maternal Instinct.

Fetish Survivor.

The Beloved.

Bully.

Clickers II: The Next Wave (with Brian Keene) Hero (with Wrath James White.

Primitive Clickers III: Dagon Rising (with Brian Keene) The Corporation.

Back From the Dead (forthcoming) Collections Old Ghosts and Other Revenants.

Maternal Instinct When the Darkness Falls.

The Summoning and Other Eldritch Tales.

Anthologies (as editor).

Tooth and Claw (with Garrett Peck).