Ashes and Dust (3 page)

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Authors: Jeremy Bishop,David McAfee

Tags: #Horror

BOOK: Ashes and Dust
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4

 

Charley Wilson settled into his pea-soup green recliner. It was worn and frayed, but God-dang, it fit his ass like a glove. He sighed, lifted the cold beer in his good hand, fingernail digging beneath the can’s pop-top. But he stopped short of opening it.

He did stupid things when he drank.

He knew that.

Everyone knew that.

And if he drank one, it would quickly become ten. And then...
At least I don’t have my truck any more. Can’t wreck what you don’t have.
He shook his head, remembering the fate of his truck. Frost had recovered it from the depot, driven straight past him, parked in the Soucey’s parking lot and attached the sheriff station’s only wheel-boot to the driver’s side tire. She’d tossed the keys to him as she headed back to the station and said, “Stay sober, and maybe I’ll let you drive again.”

But there was still plenty he could ruin, even without the truck, starting with his son’s life. Near as he could tell, the kid had found some source of resilience that didn’t involve alcohol or treachery. Might have been the first Wilson boy in generations to pull that one off.

But if the boy could pull it off, why couldn’t Charley? Despite his obvious failings as a father, his notoriety as the town drunk, and T-boning Frost and Griffin on his way to Ellison’s, they had treated him fairly. More than fairly. They took his truck, but they could have locked him up again. He looked at his broken hand, wrapped in a bandage.

He’d paid his dues, hadn’t he? He had saved his son and Lisa, and Griffin’s girl, when that...giant bird-thing had attacked them. He wasn’t sure if he would have had the courage without the booze in his system. But he’d also stood up to those pricks at the Guard depot. Granted, his silence had been meant to protect his own ass, but to the others, he’d been tortured on their behalf and he’d taken it like a man.

More than a man.

Like a hero.

He looked at the beer again. It was an escape. A weakness. And it was going to get someone killed.
Probably me
, he thought. And while Charley was a drunk, angry man, he had no desire to die, primarily because he believed the pits of hell awaited him.

And that’s what this is all about, isn’t it?

A knock on the side door froze Charley’s thoughts.

Had the boy come back? He found himself feeling hopeful he’d see his son again. He’d tell the boy that he was turning over a new leaf. He stood quickly, leaving the beer on the TV tray. When he entered the kitchen, the silhouette through the door’s shaded window was clearly not Radar.

Only one person in town had curves like that.

“What do you want, Barnes?” he asked, as he opened the door.

Julie Barnes looked like a supermodel on most days, but today, her furrowed brow and cold eyes were enough to keep Charley’s libido in check. “You didn’t talk to him, did you?”

Charley held up his hand. “No, but I had a nice chat with his friends at the Guard depot.”

“And?”

“They were even more in the dark than us. But Griff went to find the old man with Winslow. Maybe they’ll—”

Julie’s face reddened. The lady was a powder keg. “And you didn’t go with them?”

“Tried,” he said with a shrug. “I’m not exactly a member of the town’s A-Team.”

“You and me both,” she muttered. “Then I need to know what you do.”

“Which is about the same as you.”

“C’mon,” she said. “You dug up dirt on most everyone who wasn’t playing along with the retrofit, except for Griffin—”

“You didn’t have much luck with him, either,” Charley said.

Julie rolled her eyes. “The point is, you did a lot of digging... Nothing stood out as unusual?”

“What about this isn’t unusual?”

“Look, you and I both know that there were...changes made to this town.”

“Doesn’t mean I know where to look, any more than you do,” Charley said. “But...it would have to be someplace far enough removed that no one would notice the work being done.” He really had no clue, but thought if he threw her a bone, she might get off his porch.

Julie’s forehead furrowed for a moment. “What about the farm?”

“Green Meadow? Never went there.”

She squinted. “Neither did I. Who owns it?”

“Hell if I know. The Byrnes sold it going on four years ago. Never met the new owner.”

“Then that’s where I’m headed.”

She turned to leave, but Charley caught her arm. She turned and leveled an icy glare at him. He released her quickly. He’d never been told, but he knew she was something more than a real estate agent. He didn’t know what, but that look in her eyes told him he didn’t want to find out.

He cleared his throat. “If you find the old man—”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

“And the last,” he added. “If we can undo this shit, I’d prefer folks didn’t know we helped kick it off.”

“You mean you don’t want your son to know,” she said, and then grinned. “I don’t think there are any Father-of-the-Year awards in your future, Charley. If you hear anything in the next few hours, you’ll know where to find me.”

With that, she strutted down the steps and away from the house.

He let the screen down slam shut behind her. Back in the living room, the cold can of Coors called to him. He walked to the TV tray and plucked up the perspiring brew. Walking back into the kitchen, he expertly popped the top. His insides quivered at the smell. He’d been sober too long. The headache would set in soon.

“Fuck it, and fuck her, too,” Charley said, and he poured the beer into the kitchen sink.

 

 

5

 

Griffin’s eyes darted back and forth as he drove, scouring the woods around the car for danger. While he didn’t expect those ash creatures to make a return appearance any time soon, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that they’d picked up a hitchhiker from another world along the way. And while their current surroundings appeared as dead as the moon, he wasn’t about to let his guard down. So he drove carefully and slowly.

“Just because we’re going to see an old geezer,” Avalon said from the back of the cruiser, “doesn’t mean you need to drive like one.”

“You used to hate how fast I drove,” he pointed out.

“That was before monsters were trying to eat people.”

“If we could talk less about monsters and more about anything else, that would be fantastic,” Winslow said.

“Sorry,” Avalon said. “I’m sure Carol will be... I’ll just shut up now.”

Griffin glanced at Winslow. The man’s legs continued to bounce nervously, but he seemed focused. And present. Despite his age, and his wife’s precarious condition, Winslow was doing what he could to help. Hell, most people in town were. New Englanders didn’t socialize much with their neighbors, but when disasters struck—typically blizzards or ice storms—communities came together and strangers were treated like family. And now, Refuge was coming together in a big way, thanks to people like Winslow, Cash and even Dodge, who were stepping up to take care of others.

Winslow’s legs stopped bouncing. He tensed.

“What is it?” Griffin asked.

“Don’t you hear it?” Winslow asked.

Griffin slowed the cruiser to a stop and put it in park. They were just a half mile from Ellison’s driveway, but he couldn’t ignore impending danger. He couldn’t hear anything, so he rolled down the window. A faint buzzing filled the car.

“It’s the wasps,” Winslow said. “They’re back. I need to get back to the house!”

“Carol’s inside,” Griffin said, reaching for the M-16 between the seats. “Besides, I think it’s coming this way.” He took the rifle, opened the door and got out. He stood behind the open door and aimed his weapon back down the road. The buzzing was getting louder, approaching fast, following the road.

Winslow got out on his side, rifle in hand. Following Griffin’s lead, he aimed over the window. “These have much of a kick?”

“Just don’t hold the trigger down,” Griffin said. “Might want to take the safety off, too.”

Avalon rattled the back door’s handle from inside. “I can’t get out.”

“Better if you stay put,” Griffin said.

She grunted with annoyance. “Why, because I might get shot?”

Griffin glanced at Winslow, who was searching for the safety. “Actually, yes.”

Avalon’s complaints were cut short by the buzzing, which grew suddenly louder. The road behind them curved away after fifty feet. Whatever was coming would be on top of them fairly quickly. Griffin looked down the sights, let out a breath and slipped his finger over the trigger.

Just a quick three round burst
, he thought.
That’s all it will take.

When the thing sped around the corner, Griffin’s finger squeezed instinctively, but his conscious mind stopped the twitchy digit before a single round was fired.

“Holy shit!” Griffin shouted, pointing the gun toward the sky and engaging the safety. “Radar. I almost shot you!”

“S-sorry,” Radar said, slowing the moped to a stop. Lisa peeked out from around him, looking very guilty.

Griffin took a breath, controlling his frustration. For a moment, he considered the possibility that the pair was here because something had gone wrong in town, but that couldn’t be right. Frost would have called him on the radio.

“Why are you here?” Winslow asked. “Did something happen?”

“I just wanted to see this through,” Radar said. “I found Ellison’s name.” He pointed to Griffin. “And you’re here because you found the envelope.”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Griffin said.

“I know,” Radar said. “You’re here because Ellison might have something to do with the shifts. Because finding the answers to what is happening might help you protect the people you love. Avalon. Sheriff Frost.”

Three taps on the cruiser’s rear window. “Dad,” Avalon said through the cage separating the front and back seats. “Just let them come. I kinda missed the little brats, anyway.” She said that last part loud enough for Radar and Lisa to hear. They both smiled, in part because of the compliment, but they also had Griffin outnumbered.

“We’ll do everything you ask us to,” Radar said.

“Except go home,” Griffin said.

Radar nodded. “Except that.”

Griffin tried to stifle his smile. Radar had gone and grown himself a pair of balls. While he wasn’t the kid’s father, the new strength and resolve Radar was showing made him proud.

“You’re not getting a gun,” Griffin said. “And the moped stays here. You can get it on the way back.”

With a big smile, Radar parked the moped on the side of the road. He and Lisa hurried to the squad car as Winslow and Griffin got back in. The teens hopped into the back seat with Avalon.

At least
, Griffin thought,
I can leave them locked in the car if I have to
.

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