Tar: An apocalyptic horror novella (10 page)

B
y the time
they reached the woods at the end of the industrial road, Finn could no longer walk on his own. Minty had to prop him up and help him with every step. Wonder Mutt had to keep waiting for them to catch up.

Minty knew Finn was dying.

And he knew it was his fault.

I shot him in the back. Why did I do that?

Because I thought I was supposed to save my dad.

I didn’t see the man who was really looking after me.

Minty kept wanting to sob and cry, but every time he even so much as attempted to apologise, Finn would tell him to be quiet. The man didn’t seem to mind that he was dying, he just wanted to get to where he was going. Which turned out to be that patch of woodland they had seen before finding Dominic.

“That’s it, I knew I could get there,” said Finn. “Thanks, Minty. Just help me over to that log over there.”

Minty carried Finn over to a fallen tree and eased him down. The log was thick, but Minty knew nothing about trees to know what it was.

“It’s an oak tree,” said Finn, as if reading his mind. “Some of them live for hundreds of years. Even they can’t survive with so little sun.”

Minty looked at Finn. Although he was still alive, Finn’s mind seemed far away.

“And that’s a willow tree,” said Finn. “We have those back home in Ireland. There must be a stream nearby because they like the wet. And I think… yes, that over there is an alder.”

Minty frowned. “How you know so much about trees?”

Finn seem to come back to reality and smiled. He looked at Minty as he spoke. “Marie and I used to spend all our time in the woods when I was about your age. We used to borrow nature books from the library and try to identify all the insects and trees we could find. It was the last time I was ever happy, Minty. Almost forty, and I stopped being happy at twelve. I feel her here, though, you know? If there’s one place I can let go of everything, it’s here amongst the trees. It’s more than I deserve.”

Minty sat down on the log beside Finn. “I’m sorry about Marie.”

“Me too.”

Minty stroked Wonder Mutt on the head as he thought about things. “I know you didn’t save Marie, but you saved me, Finn. And Wonder Mutt. We were both suffering until you came and rescued us. I think that God judges us on who we are when we die, not who we were before.”

Finn laughed, but there was no humour in it. “You know who I was before, Minty? I was a guy who set bombs and walked away. What kind of a coward does that? I only came here to escape my boss who wanted me dead—just wanted to save my own worthless arse.”

“You could have gone anywhere,” said Minty. “You came home to your family.”

“I had nowhere else to go. Maybe I just wanted to see a friendly face before I went to Hell, but instead, I found my sister’s body. For the best. I don’t think she would recognise me anymore. The last job I did for my boss killed a girl about your age, Minty. Her name was Jenny. I tried to save her, but it made no difference. I see her face every time I close my eyes.” He started to cry. “Every night she presses her soft cheek against mine and asks me why I do such wicked things, and every night I can’t give her an answer. Part of me looks forward to this all being over, but what’s coming next for me has to be worse. I know it.”

“Maybe there’s just nothing,” said Minty. It was an idea he had tried to ignore, but every now and then the despair of impending nothingness crept in and smothered him. Now that it was so close it was almost debilitating. “Perhaps being dead is like before we’re born, you know? We can’t even think about it. You try to grasp a glimpse from before your birth, but all you see is black. Maybe all you have to worry about is darkness.”

Finn smiled. His face had turned pale, even beneath the film of ash and sweat. “You think? You think it will be peaceful?”

Minty hated to admit it, but he nodded. “I think peace is probably all there is.”

“Are you scared, kid?”

“Terrified,” he admitted. Finn had begun to tilt on the log. Blood drip-dripped from his lower back to the crisp leaves below. He didn’t have long left. “I’m scared of being alone at the end.”

Finn’s eyes moved, but the rest of his body stayed still. “You won’t be alone, kid.”

And then Finn told him.

* * *

F
inn had died less
than two minutes later, slumping sideways onto the log and rolling off onto the floor. Minty placed him on his back and covered him in leaves beneath the willow tree. Wonder Mutt gave him a lick goodbye.

Then Minty had set off, leaving the woods and the dead Irishman behind him. He walked quickly through the shadowy industrial estate, anxious without an adult to protect him. He thought about Edward back at the police station and wondered how many more monsters like him lurked close by. Wonder Mutt couldn’t fight off them all. The streets remained quiet though, and when he reached the end of the road, he saw that they would never be busy again.

The horizon seemed to shimmer like a haze over a hot road. Something rose several feet above the landscape, almost hovering. Something dark and grey.

Wonder Mutt yipped.

The tar had arrived.

The edges of Minty’s world began to roll inwards, and he watched in horrified amazement as a distant tower block began to lean perilously as its base turned to viscous ooze. People screamed, far off, but no one came his way. He knew that people would begin to run soon, but it would be pointless. Why not stand and accept their fate now? The world had mere hours remaining—who wanted to stick around for that?

Yet, Minty turned away from the disappearing horizon and went the other way. He didn’t want to be alone at the end.

So he kept walking, Wonder Mutt beside him. He passed by Latif’s, but didn’t check to see if his father still lay amongst the rubble. An hour later he passed by the Hobby Horse, and saw the men still inside. The Beverley Brothers hadn’t hit them. They would die anyway. He could warn them how close death was, but he owed them nothing. He didn’t want to be alone, but neither did he want to be with any of them.

So Minty kept walking. He tried to remember the directions Finn had given him with his dying breaths, but wasn’t sure he was going the right way. It wasn’t until he spotted an old lady and a man out on their front lawn that he started to have hope. When the old woman looked at him and spoke with an Irish accent, he knew he was in the right place.

We both ended up with families we didn’t deserve,
said Finn.
But for different reasons.

“Can I help ye, lad?” the old woman said.

“My name is Mikey. I think I met your son, Finn?”

The old woman looked at the man stood with her and they exchanged a sad glance. “Aye, Finley is my boy. Don’t suppose he’ll be following along shortly?”

Mikey shook his head sadly. “He wanted me to tell you that
it’s done
.”

The old woman nodded her head, tears in her eyes. “Thank you, lad. Would you and your doggie like to stay and have a bite to eat?”

Minty swallowed. “The tar is coming. It’ll be here in hours.”

“Then we should eat fast.”

The man, who Mikey assumed was Clive chuckled and gave his mother a quick hug. “I hope my brother didn’t cause you too much grief, kid.”

Kid.

Mikey shook his head. “He saved me.”

That seemed to make both of them happy. The old woman motioned for Mikey and Wonder Mutt to join them, and as he took the few steps to cross the lawn with Wonder Mutt in tow, he saw a mound of dirt with a shovel sticking out of it.
Marie.
He really had liked her.

You deserve a family like mine,
Finn had said.
And they deserve a son like you. Go, be with them.

Mikey gathered Wonder Mutt and went inside with the two strangers who would be his family for the next few hours. Suddenly, he didn’t feel quite so afraid. Soon the darkness would come for him, but he would not be alone.

I
am so
lucky to have the career that I do. Writing books for a living has always been my dream, and actually doing it is more than I deserve. It is with that deep-felt gratitude that I endeavour to assist fellow authors at various stages of their career. I am fortunate enough to have relationships with literary giants right through to virgin pen-smiths preparing to take their very first leaps from their cloying nests into the great vast unknown of book publishing. I help them as others have helped me.

To follow are several short stories from some of my colleagues; some established, some not—all passionate and hard working. I hope that you enjoyed my story; here are some more for you to enjoy from other sick minds…

Enjoy!

I
ain Rob Wright

M
onday 21
^st
Sept 2015

The house itself was lovely; they had both fallen in love with it instantly. The spacious rooms, big driveway and huge back garden overlooking trees and fields were bliss compared to the previous property. Neighbours were too close and the constant noise of traffic eventually became irritating. It had started out fine and they put up with it, but over time they decided on a bit of serenity. Just outside of town was ideal for them both.

Amber was the artistic type who loved the peace and quiet to allow her creative mind to flow and Steven just liked being away from the “buzz” of town life. There was also the relief that they could let their dog Broxy free in the garden without the fear of him escaping into someone else’s property. The house had been for sale for a couple of years and they had passed it several times whilst out walking the dog, dreaming about the day they could afford such a place. That time had finally come. There was one thing that Steven wasn’t sure about but he thought it was too trivial to voice so he kept it to himself.

It was Steven’s turn to take Broxy on a walk, a job that used to be an enjoyable experience. Staring at the darkness that surrounded the house though, that enjoyable event seemed a lifetime ago. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the fear of the dark had filled him but over the years it had grown, and now, staring out of the window, he felt it would cripple him. He had managed to hide his anxiety from Amber thanks to the well-lit area surrounding the previous house. Now, he had to admit it or face it. His male pride wouldn’t allow him to tell Amber his irrational fear so he had to face up to it. Just himself with a torch, Broxy- his trusted protector, and whatever lay in the darkness.

Anything could be out there.

Anything….

Steven forced himself off the sofa and through to the hall where the footwear was stored. Grabbing his jacket from the hanger and a torch from the cupboard, he sat on the bottom step of the stairs to tie the laces on his walking shoes. Jacket on, shoes on and torch ready, he made his way through to the living room and called to his dog. Reluctantly Broxy stood up, shook his collar and glared at Steven. Attaching the lead to Broxy’s collar, he shouted to Amber that he would be back soon, and made his way towards the front door.

Amber was glued to the TV watching her favourite program and barely acknowledged them leaving.

The security light at the front of the house lit up the drive as Steven and Broxy moved into the sensor’s range. They made it to the end of the drive before the light disappeared and plunged them into darkness. A flush of panic raced through Steven’s body as his heart began thumping in his chest. He fumbled for the torch in his pocket and flicked the switch to ON, shining it round about himself to chase away the images his imagination was conjuring up.

The torch was pretty powerful and lit the way for a short distance before, what appeared to be a wall of darkness, abruptly stopped it. Broxy was already across the road doing his business in the grass, oblivious to his owners increasing panic. Sweeping the light beam left and right, Steven forced his breathing to slow down before tugging at Broxy’s lead so he would follow him along the road.

The weather was pleasant with a slight breeze rustling the leaves and bushes. The moon would peek out from the clouds then disappear again as if spying on Steven’s progress. That wasn’t what was giving Steven a chill though. The feeling that himself and his trusted companion were alone in the world was doing a good job all on its own.