fiction | Carrie's Take

Haze hovered against the small town, teasing the dawn in a smothering cold blanket that reflected the vile chants emerging from the large crowd that surrounded me. I glanced around, knowing my only chance for escape was during their pre-planned march through the just awakening town. Only then could I slip from their bosom without notice.

“Rachael, you lead the western group.” I heard the order from the almost hidden face, so foreign to my recognition, and immediately knew I was suspected and now to be tested for faithfulness to the cause.

I nodded, trying desperately to mask the intense fear whaling up within my throat.

The bells rang out, savagely cutting at my raging nerves. Reluctantly, I began the fast march through the alleys and down the assigned streets, though no chants lifted from my silently praying lips. Inside the door of the Longhorn Restaurant, I sighed only for a moment before the terror began to rip at my soul and the screams of hideous torment forced their way into my conscious thoughts.

The faces of the cult members were twisted in demonic delight, as they stole away the life of those who would not submit, and even those who would – but who were the weak now falling to the frenzy excitement of the power of blood.

I stood in an instant of disbelief, as one young woman gutted another, burying her face deep within and cannibalizing on the inners now slashed open. I reached under my coat and pulled my .357 Colt, pointing it first to the right and then to the left and back again. “Stop or I’ll shoot.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Came the sickening sweet voice of a pretty blonde girl.

“Don’t try me.” I said firmly, surprised my tone wasn’t disrupted by the shaking I knew
was trying to overpower me.

She moved towards me, her eyes squinted in that hellish glint. A man moved at me from the left. I focused my weapon from one to the other, catching sight of the knife in her hand and firing a round into her blackened heart. Her young body flew backwards, jerking and moaning, surprise devouring her now questioning eyes.

The undefined man stepped away, looking from his downed comrade to me and back in
rapid succession. I aimed down on him and screamed out again, “Back off or I’ll shoot!”

The scene quieted, as they moved slowly towards me, their heads cocked sideways, a
curious glint in their eyes and their lips turning up in a sadistic smile of mockery. Mike slid in beside me and I could feel the relief floating through my burning veins. I handed him my weapon, “Cover me.”

“Sure thing.” He said calmly taking the Colt from my grasp.

I leaned down to check on the stiff form of Denise and readily found the life had slipped
from her grasp. A tear touched my eyes, and I was shaking my head against the truth now
forced at me without mercy. I looked back towards the middle-aged man and the barrel
aimed not at them, but at me. My lips quivered, as I whispered, “You’re with them?”

The laughter was shrill and taunting, and I saw the confidence looming in those dead eyes
before me. “Of course, I’m with them.”

Slowly I stood and bowed my head, knowing that any moment, those hellish hands would
rip away my life. But, they were in no hurry. Not now. They were enjoying the torture of
anticipation that reeked from my captured soul.

I glanced at the tall, solid frame and once trusted face that now seemed too sharp. “I
guess we never had a chance.”

“No.” He smiled with crooked teeth I had never noticed before.

“What now?” I asked meekly.

“What now, she asks?” His laughter thundered against my ears, and I watched as he
turned his attention towards the emerging mob of insanity.

I swung backwards with the slice of my hand, chopping sharply at his throat. The Colt
was dropping, as his hands shot upwards to his crushed larynx, and I lunged to retrieve the gun in mid-air, rolled to my right and came back to my feet aiming the weapon at the bewildered enemy.

The stench of death stung my nostrils and I knew there was nothing I could do to save the
others. Quickly I glanced behind me and saw that I had a clear path to the door. Carefully
I stepped backwards. They inched forward. I knew… they knew… I couldn’t get them all.
I only had five bullets left in the chamber.

Reaching the door, I shot out into the street. A young woman screamed and came at me
from an adjoining doorway. I fired a round into her chest, slamming her body against the
door as blood splattered in a wild pattern of death, and then I was running.

Behind me I could hear the curses and mad screams, as my feet touched lightly against
the asphalt. I was turning up another alley and down a street, then into another alley, my
every move heading west and southwest. Their pursuit was fainter and I was sure they had merely spread out to head me off. Abruptly, I turned north and headed northeast, sliding out just five blocks north on the very street of the slaughter.

I was breathing hard, each gasp for air a battle in itself. My legs were weak and my heart
was pounding hard against my chest. I heard the approaching roar of an engine and started to dart between houses when I recognized the brown van, and hurled myself into the street, waiving my arms in foreboding desperation. The van slowed and my Uncle Jeremy, cursed me with his glance.

“Please give me a ride.” I begged.

Hesitantly, he permitted me into his van. “It’s all your fault. You shouldn’t have gotten
involved. It was none of your business.”

His insults and accusations bore down upon my reason challenging each moral he had
once sought to instill within my conscience. How could he feel this way? I had done what
was right. I had tried to help those who would be victims, while he insisted I should just turn my head and pretend none of it was real? In silence, I turned away from his betrayal and met the eyes of his passenger.

It was a mocking, yet amused smile that met my gaze. It was my ex-boss. He was one
of them. The terror pressed at my throat and my breath caught once again. He shook his
head. “I won’t turn you over to them, but there is nothing I can do. I can’t help you, but I
won’t hurt you anymore. You are going to have to do this all on your own. I know you
can. I believe in you.”

My uncle dropped me off just outside of town, refusing to be involved any longer. I was
alone… deserted… running into the vast fields and the cover of the woods. Moving swiftly on spongy legs that threatened to give way under the demands of performance, by nightfall, cut, battered and bleeding, I had reached the tiny, neighboring town. A heavy set brunette, peered at me through curious eyes. “What happened to you?”

“They’re after me.” I simply blurted out.

She nodded, seeming to need no further explanation. Her eyes were shadowed with sadness as she spoke. “I wondered how long it would take.”

“Can I use your phone?” I begged.

“Sure.” She replied pulling me to her house, her attention snapping around perhaps in
anticipation of the watchful eyes.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble with them.” I gasped breathlessly.

“Don’t you worry about that.” She insisted, and I wondered if she was one of them too
and only baiting me in.

My hands were shaking as I dialed my number, and rattled into the receiver. “Please
come and get me, but they can’t know. Don’t take a chance. If you don’t find me on the
highway, go on without me. Don’t wait, just get out of here.”

“Oh, for God sakes.” My mother called out, but I knew she would come.

I quickly dialed my number back and entered the code for the answering machine to
disconnect the forwarding number, which then disconnected from the second number and the call forwarding to my mother’s number. Without the second number, I knew they wouldn’t be able to locate the true destination of my call.

Only a brief moment of relief touched my dwindling spirit, when the stout, aging man
wandered into the room and caught sight of me. The hatred that reflected in his eyes, was suffocating and pronounced. “What are YOU doing here?”

Before I could answer, Janet stepped back into the room. “I told her she could use the
phone. THEY are after her.”

“I don’t care. I hope they get her.” He hissed.

“Ralph! I told her we would help her!” Janet threatened in tone.

My hand was inching up towards the grips protruding from my shoulder holster, when
Ralph shook his head. “I don’t like them more than I don’t like you. I won’t turn you in, but
I won’t hide you either. You’re on your own, lady.”

I nodded and watched him stomp out the kitchen door.

Janet’s quiet smile gave no relief. “I don’t think he will tell, but I can’t promise he won’t.”

I pretended to settle at the kitchen table and waited for her to leave. Alone, I grabbed up
the sandwich she had fixed for me and slid silently out the back door and towards the west end of town and in view of the highway.

They were in town and searching for me. I saw them approach Ralph and moved in closer to hear. He denied having seen me and with that cocky snarl in his voice, assured them that he had no love loss where I was concerned. I had to smile. So he did hate them more than me.

I moved cautiously through the town just ahead of their search.

Finally, I saw the blue car moving up and down the highway, with my mother leaned forward and looking about nervously. I couldn’t go to her. They were too near She made too many passes and I was afraid they were going to notice her, but they didn’t. Finally, they moved on to the north and I raced to the roadway and caught her attention. She pulled over, her face white and her lips shaking, as she motioned for me to drive.

I dove into the car, pausing to look around. Assured we hadn’t been spotted, I gunned
the car and we sped off away from the County of Cults.

The slender, middle-aged man shivered, shifting his wire rimmed glasses back up onto his
nose and then running his hands through his salted brown hair, leaned back into his gold
recliner. Clasping his hands behind his neck, he closed his eyes. “I suppose you want me to
tell you what this dream means.”

“Do you know?” I asked excitedly, moving to sit on the edge of the matching sofa.

His lips curved into a teasing smile. “No!”

“Mike!” I squealed. “You’re suppose to be a psychologist!”

“So?” he laughed, suddenly winking at me. “Doesn’t mean I was trained for the likes of
you. You have some pretty strange dreams, Rachael, my girl.”

“Thanks a lot.” I sighed in disappointment.

He studied me, and I stared at him. Finally, he confessed. “Rachael, I never really got into dream interpretation and it’s not as simple as everyone seems to think it is. One mold doesn’t fit all. It depends on the person, as much as what is in the dream. Someone else could have your same dream and it could mean something entirely different.”

“So, what do you think it means?” I persisted.

He was sitting frigid and staring me down. “I can only give you a personal opinion.”

“Give it.” I pushed.

“In your dream the town itself was vividly accurate, though the players were not. You didn’t recognize anyone in your dream except four people,” he said ducking his head and rubbing his forehead roughly. I would have to assume you believe this town is evil, and some of the people in it… that you know the town is evil… but you realize you don’t really know the people. You don’t know who to trust and who not to.”

I nodded, urging him on.

“First you are sent in to infiltrate a small cult that turns out to be massive, but you don’t
even know who sent you and your group in. And then you find there are traitors close to
you.” He said leaning forward. “You’re there to protect right… to protect the innocent… but you are overpowered. You feel helpless and the person you trusted turns on you.”

“Then, there is your uncle, apparently in the dream because he is important to you. You
seek his approval, because in it, you feel his strength will reach out to shield you from the
evils of the world. You long for his protection, and yet met rejection. He casts you to the
side, showing his disapproval. Maybe even showing his weakness because he is angered by the fact you got involved.”

A slight laugh touched Mike’s throat. “You’re ex-boss – the one who showed a hatred
towards you – is saying he won’t turn you over to their hands. He, now realizing their
viciousness, is walking away from them. He tells you he can’t help you, because he, too, is
helpless against their onslaught. He tells you it’s all up to you, and he believes you can do it. He confides his trust in you.”

Mike studied his hands and took a deep breath. “Then there is a criminal, who hates
you. Someone you have no reason to trust, but he doesn’t turn on you. Twice now the
reverse has happened. Twice you trusted to be rejected and twice you feared to be
protected.”

He looked deep into my eyes and smiled. “I needn’t tell you about your Mother. She is
someone you have always trusted. Someone that has always come through for you and
protected you despite her own danger.”

I leaned back against the sofa and closed my eyes, thinking about his deep sure voice and
the possibilities he had presented. Perhaps my beliefs of evil and lack of trust were merely presenting themselves in a conflicting drama of the terror their possibilities presented to me.

Mike had explained the four familiar people’s possible roll in my dream, but suddenly I
realized there had been five — not four. Mike had been in my dream as well. “But, Mike,
what about you? Why were you in my dream?”

His laughter brought me to attention. My eyes opened and I was staring at the barrel of
my own Colt. “And maybe I am just full of it. Maybe you are just able to see what others
are too blind to see.”

Terror erupted within my throat, as I looked at the tall, solid frame and once trusted face
that now seemed too sharp. “I guess we never had a chance.”

“No.” He smiled with crooked teeth I had never noticed before.

“What now?” I asked meekly.

“What now, she asks?” His laughter thundered against my ears, and I watched as he
turned his attention towards the emerging mob of insanity.