Welsh Road (The Depravity Chronicles) (2 page)

Suddenly there
was a noise above them.

TAP.

TAP.

Then a shrilly
shriek of laughter, followed by more tapping sounds.

TAP.

TAP.

The damn
creature’s messing with us
, Jena mused, most unhappily. She turned to Nicholas
for comfort, only he wasn’t offering any. He was hugging himself and shivering,
as if they were sitting in an industrial freezer. She concentrated on her own
sense of fear and – yep, sure enough – there was plenty of terror to go around.
But it wasn’t necessarily because of the predator above them.  Something else
was bothering her. Something about the road itself…

TAP!

This time the
sound was louder. But then, after the final tap, nothing. Silence.

Thus the million
dollar question: What was the bastard doing?

“Do you see it?”
Jena asked, surveying the tree line in as many directions as the seatbelt would
allow. She felt like the safety device was somehow actually keeping her safe.
There was no way in hell she was going to unbuckle it.

Nicholas looked
at her, and as she looked out her window again he turned to look out his.

He was greeted
by the creature’s black eyes and prominent nose, separated only by a quarter
inch of glass.

“
SHIT!
”
Nicholas yelped, not caring if he sounded like a girl. This, in turn, scared
the hell out of Jena.

Their assailant
shrieked with laughter again, tapping on the window. It followed its fit of the
giggles with a horrific snarl, dark drool oozing from its lips. It seemed to be
speaking, but Nicholas and Jena were having their own conversation.

“Try the car
again! Try the car again!” Jena sternly ordered him.

Nicholas’ hands
were shaking so badly he was finding it difficult to be successful. Jena
grabbed his hand to help him. Together, they turned the key.

By what they
both believed was the grace of God, the Mustang’s engine roared to life.
Nicholas slammed on the gas.

“No! No!” Jena
said, urgently grabbing his arm.

“What?” he
asked, shrugging her off to shift gears.

Jena shook her
head violently. “Not this road! Not this road!”

“Why?”

“Because!
Because!” she said.

“God, Jena! You
sound like a freaking parrot. Do you have to keep repeating yourself?”

She ignored his
ill-timed attempt at sarcasm. “Go back the way we came!” Jena insisted.

“Would you stop
freaking out? I’m not slowing down, Jena. That thing will kill us!”

“If we stay on
this road we’re going to die,” Jena said as she looked out her passenger
window, scanning the bushes and trees for what she believed was some kind of
bird demon hybrid. Then something wholly bizarre and otherworldly happened. (As
if the last few minutes hadn’t been otherworldly enough.) Without warning, the
fear that had been pulsing through Jena’s veins just seemed to fade away. It
was replaced by an almost overwhelming sense of peace. Her eyelids felt
tremendously heavy, as though someone had attached 5 pound dumbbells to each
eyelash. So she closed her eyes.

She dreamt of
soft green moss and the sound of cicadas singing.

When she opened
her eyes she found herself in a hospital bed, surrounded by her parents.

“Oh, Jena! Thank
God!” her father Hank praised through his tears.

“What…what…”
Jena tried to ask, but couldn’t find the strength to keep talking. She figured
it was probably best, knowing a WTF comment was imminent. Her parents would not
like that one bit.

“Don’t try to
speak, honey,” her mother Isabelle said softly. “You’ve been through a
terrible, terrible ordeal.”

“Nicholas?” Jena
managed to call, her voice cracking. At the sound of his name, everyone in the
room stared at the floor. “Oh, God,” she moaned. That couldn’t be a good omen.
Closing her eyes again, she tried to remember something. Anything.

Nothing.

“What happened?”
Jena asked.

“We were hoping
you could answer that question for us,” a quiet, baritone voice said from
somewhere in the room. A noticeably tall, dark-skinned man walked into her line
of sight. She admired his long, grey hair, streaked with black and white and
pulled into a ponytail.

“Now is not the
time,” Hank declared to the stranger. “It’s not like we don’t appreciate it.
But you’re not even from the police department.”

Jena felt a
strange pull toward the newcomer. “Who are you? Where’s Nicholas?”

“I am the one
who found you,” the man said.

“And you found
me with Nicholas, right?” Jena asked again.
And the black-eyed demon,
she thought to herself. But if she said that out loud, she figured it probably
wasn’t a long journey from her current room to the psych ward.

“The police
found Nicholas in his car,” her father finally answered. “It was a terrible,
terrible accident, honey.” He paused for a few seconds too long for Jena’s
comfort. Now she understood why Nicholas had been annoyed with her saying
things twice.

“The police
found
what
?” she insisted. She wasn’t backing down.

This time it was
her mother who answered. It was like they were playing musical chairs, but with
explanations instead of chairs. This irritated Jena to no end. “Uh,
Nicholas…um, well, he’s in a coma.”

“What? A coma?
But I was in the car, right?” she asked.
Maybe I don’t wanna know
. She
was overwhelmed by her own questions, and to make things worse, no one seemed
to want to answer them. Suddenly she felt dizzy.

“No, you weren’t
in the car,” Hank said. “This gentleman here found you wandering in the woods,
two
miles
from the scene of the accident. You were in some sort of trance, like
you were sleepwalking. And you were…” he tried to say, but Hank couldn’t
acknowledge the reality of what was happening.

“I was what?
Dad,
what was I
?”

It was the
stranger who spoke. “You were covered in blood.”

“Well, that’s
just great, isn’t it?” she asked, settling into a dark mood. Closing her eyes,
she could feel her pulse and mind racing. What was going on? She could feel a
panic attack lurking in her thoughts. She felt someone take her hand and her
mind began to calm. Her heartbeat slowed as a strange yet familiar sense of
peace spread through her body. She smelled a lingering odor of freshly cut
grass. Somehow, she knew the man who had taken her hand. She knew him well.

“Who
are
you?” she asked lazily. She opened her eyes and gazed into his. He leaned
toward her, his hand outstretched in a professional but warm gesture.

“My name is
Anish,” he said. “Anish Bearson.”

1

It was a rainy
Friday morning in Crimson Falls. Anna stood beneath her umbrella in the small
cemetery behind St. Mark’s Catholic Church. She laid flowers on the grave of
her good friend Tim Dalton, wiping a tear from her cheek. Her son Trevor moved
closer, putting an arm around her to offer comfort. The only sounds surrounding
them were the falling rain and soft rolling thunder in the distance.

“Do you think
the storm will pass over?” Trevor asked, attempting to make small talk.

Anna didn’t
answer. Instead, she dropped to one knee and traced Tim’s gravestone with her
forefingers.

“Mom?” Trevor
said.

“I still can see
those eyes,” she whispered. “I hear the sound of sawing through bones.”

Trevor nodded.
“I still see Dad.”

Anna stood and
hugged her son tightly. “Me too, honey. Me too.”

Simon, Trevor’s
best friend, walked up to offer his thoughts. He was followed by Sam King and
Father Matthew McMillan.

“We’re the only
ones who survived,” Simon said, running a hand through his pale blonde hair as
he spoke.

“Well, there’s
Geraldine and Anish,” Matthew offered.

“Where is Anish?
I thought he would be here,” Anna asked.

“He sends his
apologies,” Matthew said. “He had some things to take care of today that
couldn’t wait.”

“I see,” Anna
said. She let out a deep sigh. “I still miss Geraldine. But I don’t blame her
for moving to Florida. Sometimes distance is the only option.”

“True that,”
Simon added. “And hot beaches, apparently.”

Anna nodded and
watched as the others placed a single rose on Tim’s grave. They repeated this
at several gravesites, each marking the names of those who died during the
siege of the demons.

“I can’t believe
it’s been a year,” Sam said. “Sometimes it feels like yesterday.”

“Tell me about
it,” Anna said with a dry laugh. “In my nightmares, it
was
last night.”

“I’ll second
that,” Sam added. “My wife still thinks there’s something I’m not telling her.
This whole serial killer cover story has holes in it. I have nightmares, too.”

“No, the story
is solid,” Anna said. Somehow it didn’t sound reassuring. “The only reason it
seems weak is because we know what really happened. And I have nightmares,
too.”

Sam shrugged. He
hated lying to Lisa, but he also knew that if he came clean then she would
insist on moving away, just like Geraldine had done. He loved his job, enjoyed
living in Crimson Falls, and prided himself on not walking away from anything.
Even if that ‘anything’ is evil incarnate.

As they laid
their last respective roses over Jake O’Reilly’s gravestone, Anna couldn’t help
but laugh.

“What’s so
funny?” Matthew asked. “I could use a good laugh right about now.”

“God, he was
such an asshole,” Anna said about Jake.

“That he was,”
Sam agreed.

“You shouldn’t
speak ill of the dead,” Trevor said sharply. Everyone looked at each other, and
after a moment of tense silence, they began laughing.

“Now who’s the
asshole?” Sam chuckled.

It felt good for
everyone to let go a little. After all, nearly a year had passed since the
proverbial shit hit the fan. And so it goes…time stops for nothing and no one.
This remains true even when you’ve been a witness to unthinkable crimes
committed by unimaginable creatures.

The small group
of survivors returned to their cars, their scars – emotional and physical –
binding them together for life.

Gradually, the mundane
realities of everyday living resumed their positions of authority in the minds
of the citizens of Crimson Falls. Though the wounds of the battle were still
quite real for the small group of heroes, they continued to move forward. One
day at a time.

For Trevor and
Simon, time seemed to creep by, month after monotonous month. Being a good
mother, Anna had prepared herself for the return of Trevor’s most dangerous
nemesis: boredom.
Idle hands are the Devil’s workshop,
she would think
to herself. Sure, he went through the motions and fulfilled life’s general
expectations for a teenager. Perfect school attendance, distinguished honor
roll. You name it, Trevor achieved it.

Yet there was
still something missing in his life, and it wasn’t his father. Nor was it the
knowledge that his dad had become possessed by an ancient maniacal demon.
Simply put, something had changed in him that night. It was as if he had
discovered his life’s calling. Aside from schoolwork, Trevor’s lifestyle was
defined by the books he was reading or the workouts he was planning for himself
and Simon. Come Hell or high water, most likely the former, he was going to
uncover a new mystery. If adventure didn’t come to him, he would seek it out.
She knew that one day, for better or worse, the dark terrain of the
supernatural would consume him. She just prayed it didn’t kill him.

As for Simon, he
had become a relatively permanent fixture in the household. Every day Anna
would dutifully check in with his parents, making sure they knew where he was,
safe and healthy. She would also reconfirm their permission they granted long
ago, allowing Simon to stay with the Blackwood family for long stretches of
time. If Anna had it her way she would adopt him and tell his parents where to
go. After reaffirming their arrangements and thanking them for putting Simon
first, Anna returned the phone to its cradle. She opened the refrigerator and
blankly looked inside it, pondering lunch. When she closed the door she was
startled by Trevor and Simon standing on the other side of it.

“Was that my
mom?” Simon asked. He always seemed slightly apprehensive when Anna would speak
with them, worried that he might have to go home for any length of time.

“We’re good
through next week,” Anna said.

“Awesome,” Simon
said and he immediately perked up again.

“So what can I
do for you boys?” she asked.

“Well, we’re
seniors now, Mom,” Trevor said cautiously.

Anna knew
something was up. “And you have been in twelfth grade since August. You know,
that month when the school year actually began,” she pointed out. “It’s now the
end of October.”

“Yeah, I guess
so,” Trevor shrugged, his voice barely a whisper.

Anna smirked.
“So, what is it you need? Or, should I say, what kind of permission are you
seeking from me?”

“That’s nice,”
Trevor snorted. “Why do you think I’m always up to something or wanting
something?”

Simon elbowed
him and cleared his throat. “What he’s trying to say, and failing miserably I
might add, is that we want to go see the university and take a tour.”

“You’re going to
get up early in the morning and drive over an hour just for a tour? I don’t
believe that for a second. Come on, boys. One of you be honest with me.”

Trevor relaxed a
bit. “I’m not lying, Mom. We really
are
taking a tour.”

“It’s true,”
Simon echoed. “Anish has a morning lecture and it gives us something to do. You
know we’re at least considering attending there in the fall. We aren’t lying,
Mom.”

“I see,” Anna
said. There were only two circumstances under which Simon would call Anna
‘Mom.’ When he was feeling vulnerable and talking about the situation with his
parents, or when he was putting himself on the chopping block for Trevor. It
wasn’t difficult to discern why she was wearing the ‘Mom’ title this time
around.

“Mom, please…”
Trevor began, but was cut off by Anna.

“Let me take a
wild guess. The tour isn’t really a cover story, because you actually will be
on campus. But I am assuming that you’re not planning this trip because you
have a sudden urge to get a glimpse of college life.”

“We’re not?”
Trevor and Simon said at the same time, followed by their laughter.

“No,” Anna
continued. “You’re going to see Anish.”

The brief
glimmer in Trevor’s eyes gave him away.

“Well, he does
work there,” Simon offered.

“Simon!” Anna
gasped, surprised by his offhanded comment. “I expect this from Trevor, but I
thought you were the one person on the planet who kept him honest.”

Simon smiled.
“You’re right, Mom. We’re going to see Anish.”

Trevor punched
Simon’s arm and mumbled under his breath loudly.

“Don’t be such a
drama queen,” Anna poked. Simon burst into laughter. “Why do you want to see
Anish?”

“Uh, because
he’s freaking
awesome
!” Trevor nearly sang.

Yep, totally
rehearsed
,
Anna thought to herself. “You’re not going anywhere near that school unless you
come clean. What is the real reason you want to see Anish? Does it have
anything to do with the fact that he was
missing
today?”

“Are you mad at
him or something?” Trevor asked.

Anna had to stop
and consider the question. Was she angry at him for not being in the cemetery
with them this morning? They had been planning it for months. During that time
she and Anish had become friends. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t ask him, and
she trusted him implicitly. So why was she nervous?

“No, I suppose
not,” she answered finally. “I just wish I knew why he wasn’t with us. It’s not
like him.”

“I’m sure I’ll
find out when we see him,” Simon said, trying to reassure her. “We are staying with
him, after all. We’ll call you when we get there tomorrow morning.”

“That works,”
Anna said. “Just make sure you call.”

The boys started
walking toward the basement where Simon had a bedroom. She heard them
whispering excitedly.

Shit,
she thought to
herself.
They just totally duped me. Epically.

“Uh, guys? Wait
one second,” Anna said, not sure yet what she was going to say. They walked
back into the living room.

“What’s up?”
Trevor said, trying not to act anxious.

“You would tell
me if something was going on, right?” she asked them.

“What do you
mean?” Simon asked.

“I wasn’t just
trying to make Sam feel better when I talked about my nightmares,” she said
solemnly. “I really do have them, and they are most unpleasant. I don’t want to
spend my weekend wondering if you are planning on doing something st…” – she
stopped before finishing, making sure she wasn’t jabbing at them. “Something
dangerous.”

“We’re not doing
anything stupid, Mom, I promise,” Trevor said.

“I didn’t say
that,” Anna retorted. “Do you get that I’m scared for you?”

“Yes, Mom, I get
it,” Trevor said. She knew he was frustrated with her, but he was handling it
maturely.

“Okay,” she
said. “Can you give me any details at all about why you’re going?”

“It’s no big
deal, really,” Simon said. “I have a paper I’m working on for my Honors Program
project. I asked Anish to help me and he said that he would.”

Anna wasn’t sure
whether or not to believe that. She had determined in the last several months
that Simon could stretch the truth with the best of them. But when it counted,
he never lied. At least not about something like this. So Anna decided to
interrogate him in order to determine if Simon was actually writing a paper
that would require Anish’s expertise.

After Simon
delivered a formidable description, Anna held up her hands in defeat.
“Apparently you have it all figured out,” she said, convinced that at the very
least, the story about the project was true.

“Well, no, it’s
not all figured out,” Simon responded. “That’s why we need Anish.”

“We?” Anna
asked. “Why would Trevor need help on
your
project?”

“Because I’m
doing something similar, Mom,” Trevor said. “Duh.”

Simon once again
elbowed Trevor.

“Ouch, dude!
What was that for?”

“You don’t say
‘duh’ to your mom when you’re asking her permission to do something.”

Anna laughed.
“It would do you some good to listen to your brother, here,” she said. Simon
beamed at the mention of being a part of the family, blood relation or not.

“So we’re
planning on visiting with him tomorrow,” Trevor explained. “Besides, aren’t you
taking Trisha to the mall to go shopping? You’ll be there all day and night.”

“Ugh, I forgot
about that,” Anna complained. “Well, I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm to
talk
to Anish.”

Her apparent
re-approval sent both boys into a masculine happy dance. “Thanks, Mom!” they
both praised.

“There is,
however, one condition,” Anna added.

The happy dance
quickly came to a halt. “What’s that?” Trevor asked, slouching his shoulders
and scowling.