The Dark Rift: Ascension (The Dark Rift Book Series 1) (4 page)

Noah walked over the First Street Bridge toward Fester's house and stared into the river below. The flowing water reminded him of the day before at their fishing spot, miles away. Flashes of the corpse, eyeless, with its hair floating in the water, made Noah's stomach turn. He could still see images of the dead man, who looked like a businessman from the city, dressed in a suit, with his tie waving in the river current. Noah guessed he probably wore expensive cologne, and tried to conjure up that smell in his mind to replace what he remembered from the river. He recalled flashes of metal from the corpse, now realizing those flashes were likely jewelry - a ring and watch - both of no use to a dead man. No one knew who he was yet. Noah hoped they would find out soon, so someone could let the dead guy's family know. He left the bridge and continued on, leaving his troubled thoughts by the river.

After the lecture he got from his mom about going on the old dam, he guessed it would be about a million years before she or Fester's parents would ever let them go fishing again. So, he brought some baseball cards and his glove in case Fester was up for some catch. When he got to Fester's house, no one was outside and the house appeared dark. As he walked toward the door, he thought he saw movement behind the curtains in the front window and waved. He was about to ring the bell when the door flew open and Fester's mother appeared. She looked pale, with a grim, impatient expression on her face.

"Tim won't be going out today. He's not feeling well," she blurted out.

"I just wanted to see him and give him these," Noah said, holding out some weathered Yankees cards.

Without saying another word, she grabbed the cards and closed the door. Noah was left speechless and worried about Fester. He sneaked around the side of the house and crept behind the shrub below Fester's bedroom window. From his hiding spot, he could hear Fester ask, "Who was at the door?"

Fester's mom didn't answer the question, but replied that he needed to rest so he could get well and he should go back to sleep. Noah heard her voice fade as she left the room and closed the door behind her. He tapped on the window, drawing Fester's attention. Fester put a finger over his mouth and slowly got out of bed. He stopped to blow his nose and came toward the window.

"Open up," Noah said.

"Better get up quick so's my mom doesn't hear you," Fester pushed the window upwards. "I got some sorta cold or something. Feel like my body's on fire."

"Maybe you got something from getting so wet." Noah pulled himself into the room.

"I'm thinkin’ it's something else," Fester said quietly as he lifted up the leg of his pajama bottoms. His leg was a massive open sore, from his ankle to above his knee. He showed Noah similar patches of irritated skin on his arm and abdomen. "Guess I'm tryin' to live up to that nickname you gave me, huh?" Fester said.

"Whoa. Did you show that to your mom? You need some first aid cream or something," said Noah.

"No, she's got too much to worry about with Dad bein' gone and all. He left without tellin’ anybody where he was going. Mom called his work. He’s not there and nobody knows where he is. I keep thinkin' it's got somethin' to do with that watch," Fester said.

"What watch?" Noah asked.

"The one offa that dead guy. I didn't tell you, but while you were gone gettin' the police, I took it offa his wrist. The strap was kinda busted up and it looked like it was gonna fall off, so I grabbed it. Brought it home that night and tried wiping it with some alcohol pads outta the first aid kit, but it still stunk. Mom asked me what that smell was and saw it over by the sink. She showed my Dad and he got all kinda worked up about it and threw it in his briefcase before he left town. I'm wonderin' what his briefcase smells like by now. Anyway, he was supposed to be home by supper yesterday, but didn't show. Mom called his work and nobody knows where he is. Knowing him, he sold that watch and is sittin' in a bar somewhere, drinkin' up his profits." Fester had a sour look on his face.

"Well, whata those sores got to do with the watch?" asked Noah, wondering what Fester got himself into when he left him alone at the dam.

"When I was takin' it offa that guy's arm, it kinda exploded," Fester said.

"Exploded? Whadya mean? The watch exploded?"

"No, not the watch. The dead guy was all bloated, remember? Well, his skin was really tight. I had to pull on the watch and his wrist kinda like blew up and sent some awful shit right in my face. Some of it ended up in my mouth. I think I can still taste it."

Noah felt sick. The images of the bloated corpse, the exploding wrist and the weeping wounds on Fester's body all came together at once and smacked him deep down in the guts. He slid down to the floor, sitting on his heels, and tried to keep the room from spinning.

"I know, really gross, isn't it? Just wish I knew what them numbers meant," Fester said.

"Huh? What numbers?" asked Noah in a thick voice, really wishing Fester would stop talking altogether.

"The numbers and shit on the back of that watch. I wrote 'em down. Here," said Fester as he handed Noah a small piece of paper and sat down next to him.

Noah read two sets of numbers off the paper, wondering what they could mean.

Just then, Fester's mom called out, "Do you want some soup, Tim?"

"Sure, I'll be there in a sec," Fester called back. They both stood up and Noah made for his window exit, wondering how Fester could eat soup after that conversation.

"I'll come by tomorrow and check on you," Noah said.

Fester nodded. "Okay, okay. Go now, before she finds out you're here, or you won't be comin' in the window again."

Noah jumped down and hid behind the bush under the window for a few moments until he heard the faint sound of Fester and his mother talking. Then he took off and ran. Halfway home, he realized he still had the piece of paper with the numbers from the watch crumpled in his hand. I'll give it back tomorrow, he thought.

* * *

It was past nine o'clock in the morning and Noah already rang the bell at least a dozen times without any response. He was starting to feel a little bit irritated. Fester’s mom was probably right there inside the door and wouldn’t answer, he thought. After all, she was so strange and downright unfriendly the day before. He grabbed the brass knob and noticed the door was damaged. The knob wouldn't turn, so he sneaked around the side of the house and pulled himself up to look in Fester's bedroom window. From his vantage point, he could see the bed was unmade, but no one was in the room. He climbed onto the sill, pushed the window up and went inside. The air seemed heavy, like the house had been closed up since the day before.

Noah walked into the hallway outside of Fester's bedroom. Everything seemed so unusually quiet that he started to wonder if Fester and his mom were okay. He called out down the hall, but there was no response. He walked quietly into the living room. There, he found pieces of trim from the front door and an overturned chair lying on the floor. A piece of strange-looking plastic tubing was lying next to the chair. His heart started to race and Noah called out again, louder. Still no response. He felt a strong sense of dread. He looked around for a sign of anyone and jumped when the clock in the hallway chimed on the hour.

Then, the thought occurred to him maybe Fester was taken to the hospital to be treated for the rash on his legs. Noah quickly searched through the rest of the house, knowing deep down inside he wouldn't be finding anyone. He ran back to Fester's bedroom and exited the way he came, balancing on the ledge so he could close the window behind him. He jumped down and started running in the direction of the hospital. As he ran, he noticed the redness on his arms and felt an itching sensation. Noah hoped they could cure what Fester had because he was getting it now, too.

He ran full out for almost a mile. When he arrived at the hospital, he slowed to a jog, trying to catch his breath before he entered the Emergency entrance. Noah was covered in sweat and still out of breath as he walked up to the woman sitting at the reception desk.

"Is Fester Martin here?" he asked.

"Is what here?" she said.

"Uh, oh, I mean Tim. Is Tim Martin here?" Noah said.

The receptionist shuffled through some papers on her desk, then started typing on a keyboard in front of a computer. Noah watched her as she scanned the screen.

"No. Nobody by that name. Looks like you might wanna get that rash looked at while you're here, though," she said.

Noah felt himself becoming overtaken by frustration. "How about his mother?" he said, his voice louder now. "I don't even know her first name. Mrs. Martin. Is she here?"

"I got no one here by the name of Martin. Are you sure you're looking in the right place?"

Noah noticed the receptionist giving him a suspicious look.

"My friend has a rash like mine. I just thought that maybe he came here. Thanks." He made for the exit and sprinted across the hospital lawn. Noah ran most of the way home, panicked after an unsettling start to the day. He burst into the kitchen, startling his mother, who was sitting at the table, working on an article for a Bay Area newspaper.

"What in the world?" she said, looking at Noah.

Noah explained the condition he found Fester's house in that morning and pleaded with her to help him. His mother closed the lid of her laptop.

"The first thing we'll do is put something on that rash of yours. You must have gotten into something down by the river. Afterwards, we'll take a drive over to Fester's house to see if anyone's come home. If they're not there, we'll have to call the police. I'm not sure what good that'll do in this town, though."

* * *

Slathered in ointment and bandaged from his wrist to his shoulder, Noah sat silent in the car as his mother drove to Fester's house. He was worried. Fester usually told him everything and surely would have let him know if he was going somewhere. Plus, the condition of the house, the damaged door, the overturned chair, all pointed in the direction that something bad happened.

Driving up to the house, Noah hoped Fester would be outside and would come up with some crazy explanation about where he'd been, but the house still looked quiet and dark. His mother walked up to the front door and rang the bell. After no one came to the door, she knocked hard. The look on her face became one of concern when she saw the broken doorframe.

Noah turned away from the door and looked down the street, seeing a woman staring at them, stretching to see around a shrub.

"Maybe we should introduce ourselves," his mother said as she turned and looked at the neighbor woman.

They walked together across the street and Noah's mom approached the woman.

"Hi, I'm Christy St. John. My son and I are friends with the Martins and we were wondering if you've seen them today."

Coming out from behind the shrub, the woman said, "No. Haven't seen them since yesterday afternoon." She waved her hands as she spoke and smiled at them with grey teeth.

Noah tried not to look directly at her. His stomach wasn't altogether up to par and looking at those discolored teeth made him a little queasy.

"Looked like they had company late, though. I thought I heard a noise and got up about midnight. All I saw was a white van. You know, one of those without windows on the sides, like the phone company has. Whoever was driving was in a hurry. Took off down the street like a bat outta hell," she said, sweeping her hand toward the road.

Noah noticed a disapproving look on his mother's face. He thought that maybe she didn't like the colorful language.

"Well, thank you. We'll leave a note on the door. If you see them, will you please tell them the St. John's are looking for them?" Noah's mom asked.

"Well, I don't know. I guess I could do that," the woman responded, shooting another toothy smile in their direction.

Noah's mom thanked the woman and she and Noah walked back across the street.

"Mom, I know how to get inside the house. If you want to go in, I can show you," Noah said.

"No, I don't think so. Mrs. Martin told me how you two go in and out of the house when you think she's not looking. I'm not sure I'm up for crawling in a window."

For a moment, Noah thought he might be in trouble, but was met with a smile when he looked up into his mother's face. He didn't think his or Fester's mom knew anything about the window entry.

"Besides, I think it might be a better idea to let the police do the investigating," she said.

Noah was very happy she was going to help him. He knew once his mom got started, she wouldn't quit until she found out what happened to Fester and his parents. If anyone could help, it would be her. While Noah was growing up, he watched his mom, an investigative journalist, uncover corruption in the county government and help to solve crimes the local police had no clue on where to even start with. Noah had faith in his mother. He never really knew his dad, who was killed in action in Iraq when Noah was only three years old. As he grew older, he realized how difficult being alone was for his mom, yet she never complained. She poured herself into taking care of him and in doing simple things, like gardening and listening to music.