Fading Light: An Anthology of the Monstrous: Tim Marquitz (35 page)

They came for Marek shortly before 8:00 p.m.

His heart was pounding, the blood rushing through his veins, and his
bare chest sweaty despite the icy evening temperature.

Most of the village was assembled as spectators down by the Stockade.
All the children and women and ineligible men. The younger eligible
men remained separated from the larger group. They waited patiently
for Marek and the final stage of the Transformation …

Finally, the moon began to edge up over the jagged, indigo mountains
to the east, first peeking through the
Devil’s Mouth
—

And Marek felt the beginning of the last phases of the Change
gripping him—the strength, the power claiming his fast
altering body, most of his human perceptions and feelings blunted
now, his senses more acute.

At last the moon was up, full, silvery … and triggering the
final stage of the Transformation—both female and male.

They released her from the Stockade, the small, sleek, reddish-gray
creature; and after a parting furtive glance over her shoulder at the
assembled crowd, she immediately dashed off into the countryside to
the west, heading for the ultimate shelter and safety
if
she
could make the hardwood forest thereby before they caught her.

Fully transformed now, he glanced up … and howled at the
shining full moon.

Dropping his gaze, he looked across the glistening snow at the
fleeing reddish creature and growled fiercely from deep in his
throat, in the full grip of the bloodlust.
Grrrrrr
. Even at
this distance, her she-smell flared his nostrils.

Then, enraged, he bounded off strongly, the ferocious huge alpha
male, leading the snapping, barking, hungry pack after the fleeing
vixen.

They caught her a few yards from the edge of the western forest, and
left only a wet crimson stain on the snow.

Lester didn’t want to be a hero. He just wanted to get the hell
out of Knoxville.

“What’s wrong?” Carla asked, as she climbed into
the passenger seat of his Chevy pickup.

“She won’t turn over,” he said, trying to start up
the truck. He’d hoped the old gal would be spared the fate of
every other vehicle in Tennessee, but his luck had about run out.

He had driven down from Jonesborough after Carla, his ex-girlfriend,
accidentally called him on her cell. He didn’t go looking for
her because it was the right thing to do, but because he didn’t
want to die alone.

When the sun didn’t rise on Wednesday, he and a lot of other
folks thought it might be a terrorist attack, but things got too
weird for it to be Bin Laden’s boys. Carla had meant to call
her mother, but got Lester instead—he was pretty surprised
she hadn’t deleted him from her speed dial. He didn’t
tell her about seeing her mother wander into the woods with the rest
of the folks in town, while the man on the radio barked crazy shit
about monsters coming out of the ground, then chanting some strange
word over and over until the signal went quiet for good. The power
blacked out soon after. Lester thought he was the last sane person on
the planet, and then Carla called.

They sat in his truck in front of her cousin’s house on the
eastside of town. Thunder rumbled overhead. The storm clouds kept
getting worse, and Lester had a real good hunch it had something to
do with the Knoxvillites downtown by the banks of the Tennessee
River. With the power out, the city was dead quiet except for the
chanting, and it just kept getting louder as those glassy-eyed people
came on foot from all over the county, and beyond, to join in. He
didn’t know what exactly they were chanting for, but the
nightmare he had a few hours ago about a snake swallowing the moon
told him he’d rather take his chances in Jonesborough.

“I guess we’re walking,” Lester said. “At
least ‘til we can get far enough from Knoxville to find a car
that’ll start.”

“Jesus, Lester. Some rescue.”

They piled out of the truck. Lester grabbed his rucksack and shotgun
from the middle seat, while Carla got her shoulder bag. Her only
weapon was a can of pepper spray, but Lester figured she was handier
with that than a gun considering how she blinded him with it on a
dare back when they were dating. He handed Carla a sweater and a pair
of night-vision goggles, then put on a pair himself, which he’d
liberated from the gun shop in Jonesborough. She had some trouble
adjusting the strap on them, so he gave her a hand. When he turned
them on for her, they looked at each other for a bit. Lester hadn’t
been this close to her in a long while. She looked great as ever,
fit, long black hair, and that dimple on her left cheek that drove
him wild.

“Where do we go from here?” Lester asked.

“The river’s south, so how does north sound?” Carla
said.

“Fine by me.” It wasn’t exactly the answer he was
looking for, but at least he and Carla were on speaking terms again.

Lester didn’t have much by way of a plan, just a truckload of
provisions they were going to have to leave behind, and an unsettling
Omega Man
kind of vibe. He would’ve preferred a blaze of
glory ending to the world instead of this fade-to-black shit. Finding
Carla in a suburb called
Morningside
did strike him a bit
funny, though.

He hefted his rucksack and started down the street until Carla tapped
him on the shoulder. “This way, hero.”

She led him through her cousin’s backyard, through a park.
According to Lester’s watch, it was 3:17 p.m. on Thursday.
Walking behind Carla through the pitch, he kept thinking about the
nightmare and wanting to ask about hers, since she’d been
pretty shook up when he found her, which wasn’t like her at
all. But his mind kept focusing on the fact that the only thing he
could really hear was that chanting to the south, a mile off, and all
around him the park was dead quiet. No birds, no crickets; nothing.
They cut up a small hill of trees and Lester saw an ambient light
coming from somewhere on the other side.

“You see that?”

“Yeah,” Carla said. “Any chance that’s a good
sign?”

“Hard to say, but I’ll take all the light I can get.”

“I got my cousin’s flashlight in my bag.” Carla
rifled in her bag, then turned the flashlight on—right into
Lester’s goggles.

Lester let out a yelp and fired his shotgun into the sod off to the
side. Carla screamed, as he dropped the gun and wrenched the goggles
off his head, blinking at the white haze in his eyes.

“Dammit, Carla!”

“Keep it down. I’m sorry. I’ve never worn these
things before. Are you alright?”

Lester picked up his shotgun and blinked away the spots. “I’m
alright, it’s just—”He focused on the light from
the other side of the hill, and for a second would have sworn it was
moonlight had it not been for the storm clouds overhead. What was a
dull lime green haze with the goggles became a startling pale glow.
He put his goggles back on and said, “Come on. Maybe it’s
the cops or National Guard.”

Carla followed after him. “I doubt it. I saw them heading down
to the river with everyone else.”

Lester took her at her word. He wasn’t in a hurry to cross
paths with the authorities anyway, given his rap sheet back home.
Still, he wanted there to be someone—anyone—out there
that wasn’t under some kind of spell with this darkness.

They came out of the park, following the glow across the street to a
monument. A man in a gray suit and a porkpie hat sat on the stone
steps next to some big bronze statue of a man reading a book. Lester
and Carla stopped in the middle of the street just beyond the reach
of the stranger’s soft glow. At first Lester thought the light
came from the statue, but there was no disputing that the old fella
hunkered down on the steps was lit up like a bug zapper.

“Come a little closer, children, and let me get a look at you,”
the man said, looking in their direction.

“Fuck. This,” Lester said and tried to nudge Carla up the
street, but she brushed him off and started towards the stranger.
“Carla, what do you think you’re doing?”

“I ... I dreamed this. I think I know this man,” she
said, and stepped onto the stone walkway, removing her goggles.

“Hello, Eagle,” the man said, looking up at her. “It’s
been a long time.”

“I … do I know you, sir? You seem familiar.”

Lester followed after Carla with furtive steps and the shotgun aimed
at the stranger. He slipped his goggles down around his neck to get a
clear look at the guy, noticing he was easily in his seventies or
older, and Indian to boot.

“My name is Moon, child, and though we have not met until now,
I know your spirit very well.”

“Alright, mister. I don’t know who you are or how you’re
pulling off that night-light trick of yours, but I will blow out your
candle if you so much as twitch.”

“Lester!” Carla gave him a deploring look.

“Shut up, Carla. There’s something all the way wrong
about this Injun and I—” The shotgun flew from his
grip, across the small promenade, and into the old man’s bony
hands.

“Hush, Coyote. You’ve done enough howling already. It’s
a wonder you’ve made it this far.” The old man grimaced,
then propped the shotgun against the stone wall next to the steps.
“Now, listen carefully, because we’re running out of time
and you have a long journey ahead of you.”

Lester gawked at his empty hands, then back to the man. “What
the hell are you talking about? And what’s this Eagle-Coyote
shit?”

“Those are your spirits, boy. Now hush. My sister, Sun, is dead
and your world is a nightworld now.”

“Wait,” Carla said. “The sun ... is your sister,
and it—
she
is dead?”

Moon nodded. “Uktena tried to kill her long ago, but failed and
was banished from this world, but now she has help from spirits who
would keep this world in darkness and raise her children from the
earth.”

“Slow down, Moonbeam. Who the fuck is Uktena, and what’s
she got to do with what’s happening here?” Lester figured
the old man should be fitted for a straightjacket, but he couldn’t
shake the way Carla kept looking at the guy, like what he said was
something she’d heard before.

“Uktena is a great horned serpent and more powerful than you
can imagine. She was exiled and buried her babies all over the earth.
Now they’ve awoken. Her eldest, Gulega, will rise from the
waters of the Tennessee soon, and rule over these lands and its
people.”

“Do I even want to know who or
what
Gulega is?”
Lester asked, pressing his fingers to his temples.

“Gulega is the black serpent and her eldest son, a demon that
can control the storms. He has been calling to your people since Sun
died.”

“The chants,” Carla said. She and Lester looked to each
other and listened. They could make out the word, “Gulega,”
now. “It’s building its strength, isn’t it?”

Moon nodded, then stood up with a weary shrug.

“You need to find something for me,” he said looking to
Carla, then to Lester. “And you must steal it. Once you have
it, bring it back to the city and to Gulega. It will be his undoing
and the first step to saving this world.”

“And just what in the hell is it we’re going to steal
that’ll kill an overgrown garden snake, old man? You got a
bazooka squirreled away somewhere?” Lester said.

“An egg,” Moon answered simply.

Lester burst out laughing, tear-stricken as he looked from the old
man to Carla. “There’s a demonic snake turning everyone
into zombies, and we’re supposed to save the day by going on an
Easter egg hunt? Are you hearing this?”

Carla glowered at him, then looked back to Moon. “Tell us what
to do.”

Lester froze. “Huh?”

Moon reached into his jacket and revealed an old coal-miner’s
lantern. Lester gaped at the magic trick, as Moon handed it to Carla
then touched it with a finger. The light that suffused through his
body seemed to spill into the lantern until his complexion looked
downright normal, and the lantern glowed like the Moon itself. Then
Moon turned to Lester and reached into his jacket again. Lester moved
to bring up the shotgun in defense, then remembered he was
empty-handed. Moon impossibly pulled out a wooden box, a foot square,
from under his jacket.

“The lantern will light the way,” Moon said. “The
box will hold the egg.” He handed the box to Lester, then
leaned in and whispered to him. “When you find the egg, replace
it with what’s inside the box. She’s on a hero’s
quest, so you’ll have to be the thief.”

“What’s inside the box?”

Moon only smiled with mischief in his bright brown eyes.

“What makes you think we can even do this?” Lester asked.

“Because you, Coyote, and you, Eagle, did it once before when
you stole Sun and Moon and brought them to this world.” The old
man smiled. “I never thanked you properly for that. Perhaps
when your journey is complete, I will. For now, you must go. There’s
a police cruiser across the way. Very fast. Take it. I’ll
distract the afflicted while you do.”

Moon shuffled over to the statue and laid his hands on it. The large
bronze figure stood and set its book aside, rising nearly twenty
feet. It looked down at Moon and hoisted him up in its arms. It began
its march towards the highway while Moon looked back.

“Hurry, children. You have a long journey ahead, and it’s
already past your bedtime.”

“Can you believe this shit?” Lester turned to Carla, but
she was already hurrying off in search of the car.

Lester drove the police cruiser down a desolate interstate for nearly
a half-hour—after Carla had inexplicably used Moon’s
lantern to
hotwire
it—then drove a little while longer
through back roads. They found the cave behind an abandoned farm. To
Lester, it looked more like a canyon with a roof on it. Some kids had
spray painted an arrow that pointed to the mouth of the cave,
followed by the word:
HELL
.