Into a Long Ago Future
A Collection of Short Fiction
by
Jodi Lee
Copyright © 2012 Jodi Lee Wetherup
Edited by Melanie Choly
Cover Photo © 2012 Marek Wojtal
Cover & Interior design by Jodi Lee © 2012
Self-Published
ISBN: 978-1-926912-69-1
Multi-format Digital Download/Smashwords Edition
A catalogue record for this title is available from the
National Library of Canada.
This is a collection of works of fiction. Any resemblances to place, person or event are strictly coincidental.
All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.
Jodi Lee – http://www.jodilee.ca
Smashwords – http://www.smashwords.com
* * *
Also by the Author
Eternity Series:
Fire & Ice
Beyond the Veil
Creating New Pagan Family Traditions:
Yule
Imbolc
Releasing in 2012:
Eternity Series:
Betrayal
Outworld
Damned
Eternal
Creating New Pagan Family Traditions:
Ostara
Beltaine
Litha
Lughnasadh
Mabon
Samhain
Esbats
* * *
Publication Credits
The Lion Roared -
Tales from the Moonlit Path 2006
Tainted Anthology 2008
The Monsters Next Door - Road Trip 2009
Thirsty -
Night to Dawn #11 2007
Horrorology Anthology 2011
Black and White -
Nocturnal Ooze 2007
Clipped -
Fried! Fast Food, Slow Deaths Anthology 2007
Days, Hours, Minutes, Seconds -
Parasitic Thoughts Anthology 2008
It Never Lasts Forever -
Fifty-Two Stitches, Webzine & Anthology 2009
The Legless Ones -
The Black Garden Anthology 2009
Down the Street -
Through New Bedlam -
The Institute -
On the Road -
The New Bedlam Project 2009
Doe Clock Truck -
New Bedlam -
The New Bedlam Project 2010
My Beautiful Boy -
War of the Worlds: Frontlines Anthology 2010
Ring a Ring a Rosie -
Necrotic Tissue #9 2010
Chopped Up Pop -
Necrotic Tissue #11 2010
* * *
Acknowledgments
I could never have done this little project if my editor, Melanie Choly, hadn’t taken it over and whipped it into shape. She was sent a bunch of loose files, part of a story on a handful of torn and crumpled notebook pages, and even managed to find a story I’d thought lost to the ages. And she turned it into this.
I owe you, Mel. Still, forever, and always. I promise Morpheus will bless you, eventually.
I also want to acknowledge the support and friendship of Tug, Mr. Sir, and the forever wonderful Werepig. Together, we were four Musketeers, battling insomnia with laughter and snark wherever we rode.
Dedication
For Rhiannon & Carrie, who put up with late dinners, lots of chores and a cranky mom who stays up all night. Love you!
For the members of Glas Celli, who put up with lack of communication, absentmindedness, and distraction …
You are the best family I could ever have wished for.
And as always, for Gran & Gramps. Thank you.
* * *
Spilt (poem)
Doe Clock Truck (poem)
Into the Mirror (novel excerpt)
* * *
She’s lived in New Bedlam all her life, this starry-eyed girl who sees nothing but a life outside the little town of horrors. She doesn’t want to wash their laundry anymore, she doesn’t want to see and feel their sins as the blood drips and flows away from her white linens.
She wants, more than anything, to leave. Someday, a stranger will come down the highway, turn into town and take her away with him. Someday, she’ll stand on a stage and smile and sing and the people will love her.
She’s lived in New Bedlam all her life, this exhausted soccer-mother who has long since given up on her dreams of stage and fame. Never will she stand before the lights too bright to see beyond, never will she feel their heat upon her face.
Still she hopes to see the end of the town she’s forever lived in. There will be no more blood. There will be no more bones. There will be no more stories of late-night carousing with the monster under the bed or the boogeyman in the closet.
There will be no more stories, period.
And the monsters will sleep.
And the people will sleep.
And the streets of New Bedlam will finally, finally be safe for anyone to walk.
She’s lived in New Bedlam all her life, and as she rests her graying head upon her pillow for the last time, she begs Morpheus for just one dance before the dawn.
You want to survive a zombie apocalypse, you need a plan.
You need to think; one morning, everyone’ll wake up to news reports that the dead have begun walking, which will lead into the cries of the dead biting, which will lead to the inevitable panic and scramble for guns and supplies. And then of course the fires, the looting, the general lack of sanity until finally, martial law.
That martial law, that’s gonna be the fun times.
Here’s how you could avoid all of that, just by being prepared ahead of time.
Cases of water are darn cheap, and even though it’ll grate your nerves to pay for something that came out of a tap somewhere else, until you get a well working, you’ll need drinking water. Remember, buying water in bulk ain’t the only thing you can do; every heavily populated area has a wholesaler club of some sort, you know—like Costco. Get a membership, start picking up a case or two here and there. If you’re really mad on getting things ready, do it all at once.
No one questions a survivalist with a credit card and a trolley loaded down with cases of non-perishables and water at Costco. Trust me. They may look at you, but they’ll glance away fast so they don’t make eye contact by accident. Just smile big if they do stare.
Freaks out the non-believers if you’re not only preparing for the end of the world, but you’re happy to do so.
So, then you’re thinkin’, what all would I need to pick up in order to survive through at least the first six months? Well, let’s tick off a basic list; you’ll have to work out quantities depending on who you’ll be keeping with you to the end.
You’d need your water, freeze-dried veggies and fruits, canned goods like meats and beans and chili and soups. I know it sounds bulky, but toilet paper. You don’t want to wipe your ass with poison ivy by accident, do you?
Let’s see. Jerky, all kinds of jerky. That stuff’d make it through the next nuclear war, so it’d do ya good. Believe it or not, you can boil it up in water to create soups and stews, too.
Those squiggly noodles the college kids are all ravin’ about all the time. What d’ya call ’em… Ramon noodles.
What? Oh. Ramen. Ramon, Ramen, all the same to me.
Macaroni and cheese from a box. Every little kid’s favorite, right? Bet they’d never dream they’d be livin’ off it when they grew up.
Drugs. Gotta stock up on drugs, and early, too, because once the zombies really hit, every store is gonna be either inaccessible or looted, probably cleaned right out. Grab your ibuprofen and your acetaminophen and anti-bacterial soaps and what nots. Can’t forget the air freshener and the lady-goods. Of course, you’re needing blankets for sleeping and back-packs for all this stuff.
Now I bet you’re wondering why I included air freshener and ‘lady-goods.’ Air freshener for the camp because you’ll be eating a lot of beans and frankly, you’ll stink. ‘Lady-goods’ are on the list because you’re gonna end up with at least one woman with you, and she’s likely going to need them. Even if you didn’t plan on or don’t end up with a female in your group, have some on hand anyway; they make excellent field bandages in an emergency. If you get the kind with a scent, it’ll keep the blood smell from attracting the attention of the wandering horde.
This next bit of advice would probably hurt your sensibilities a bit, but you need to man up and grow a pair if you’re gonna come out the other end of this still breathing.
You need to find someone. Someone older, or maybe just less physically capable. Maybe even more than one. Make friends. Don’t tell me you don’t know where I’m going with this, I know you know. If you don’t think you could do what I’m about to tell you, take the sucky out of your mouth and stop squalling for your mama’s teat.
A whole new kind of critter wants that now.
What? Yeah, I went there. Ain’t such a pretty picture, huh? You’re goddamn right it ain’t. Now, are you ready to do what needs to be done to save your own skin? No pun intended.
See the way I figure it, as long as you’re faster and stronger than at least one person in your group, you’re doin’ good. And if you’re not, well buddy, just trip ’em. That’s all ya gotta do. Stick out your leg and let the next guy tumble over it. Unless he’s a gymnastic genius, he’s not gonna get up fast enough to keep from being a horde’s midnight snack.
One thing though, you’d need to make damn sure that it looked like an accident, or you’ll be the next one eating a dirt sandwich. Trust me.
Ah, hell, I’m getting ahead of myself, ain’t I?
The other thing you need to do, once you have a shitload of supplies, is scatter them around a bit, have a few hidey-holes around. You’ll have to make sure they’re well secured, or some idiotic, Dawn of the Dead-watching freak could find your stash and take it down to the mall.
No. Ya saw how that turned out, right? A steel-reinforced room, a good solid combination lock doubled up with a hella-strong padlock. Yeah, that’s the way to go.
See now, it ain’t gonna matter how secure your hideout is, they’re gonna get in eventually. If Hollywood has taught us nothing else, it’s that zombies always get fed, and the food always needs to find new places to hide out.
You should’ve scouted out three, maybe four, places to hang your hat when the time come. I suggest you stay out of basements, actually. Unless you’ve got access to some super-secret, mega-secure bomb-shelter under here… just stay out of places that are easily accessible, but hard to get out of in a pinch.
Find all your spots, get your rooms done up and get to storing your necessities, you’d be nearly set. Come to think of it, it probably wouldn’t hurt to get one of them camper toilets for each of your hidey-holes. No running water and such’ll make it a bitch to… eliminate.
Quit smirkin’. I know I’m cruder than the oil ol’ Jed Clampett shot out the ground, but I still have sense enough to keep some things delicate.
Last thing, guns. Lots of guns, and that means lots of ammo. Lots of ammo means an ammo belt to keep it secure.
That’s where you went wrong, I think.
I think you should have tripped that old guy that got his foot out in front of you. If you’d have just done what I’ve told you, I wouldn’t be ready to start gnawin’ on your innards.
Oh, stop your bawlin’, boy. In an hour or so, ain’t none of this gonna matter to you anyhow.
Bet you wish you’d tripped ’em, huh?
There was a huge blank spot in the night sky where she knew there had been stars the night before.
Doesn’t it take seven years for anything out there to be visible here? she thought to herself. Maybe I should call Brandt and let him know. Brandt, the boss-man at the astronomy lab where no one had ever found anything of importance. Brandt, the spoiled heir to millions with his own astronomy lab as a toy. Jeanie’s hand reached out to the red phone on the desk. I just don’t want to be on the end of his stick if he’s drunk again. She glanced at the screen again, and then moved her hand away from the phone.
For all she knew, it was an anomaly in the software. It just wasn’t a big deal.
“It’s not your fault… you know that, right Dec? Anyone could have made that mistake. That’s why they put you there to do it. They needed someone they could blame in the end.” Roos spoke quietly, without looking at the man piloting the ship. The silence from his companion annoyed him, and he sighed. “If you hadn’t been making eyes at the Grand Sindai’s daughter, they would have chosen Taw, and we’d all be on the Scart now, sipping wine and nibbling craksin pir.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t my fault.” Dec responded.
“All right, Dec, I was wrong. It is your fault. Is that what you want to hear? The thing about the Grand Sindai’s daughter is true, the rest… as I said. Anyone could have made that mistake. Taw would have been a better choice though.”
“Dec, we’ve cleared the rim. We can shut the generator down and just coast on the blast wave for a while.”
Roos winced at the voice that interrupted his rant, and turned away from the shield. Spinning his seat around, he rose and left the deck, slamming the connecting door on his way through.
“That’s fine, Jessa. It’s not like we’re in a hurry to get anywhere.”
“Is Roos with you? He’s sup—” Static broke the connection and Dec reached over to snap the intercom off. He was not going to get involved in the marital spats of his friends and co-escapees. Not when they needed each other more than ever. Not ever, for that matter.
He stared out at the mass of sparkly optimism in front of him; each star and planetary system meant a possible match to their biological needs. So many to look through, so little time. They only had enough fuel to travel to the next sector, but if Jessa was right and they could ride the wave for a while, they’d be okay. Maybe.
Dec rubbed his forehead. He hated that he’d put his friends into this situation, but the Sindai court had asked him to chose twenty people he could make use of. Rather than leave his friends behind he’d chosen them, all eighteen of them. His sister - nineteen - had declined the order, opting instead to flee with her Sindai lover. The last one, Dai-Tan, was sleeping in his quarters.
The court had fussed, but could not refuse his request. Had they any forethought at all, they would have known he’d take the Grand Sindai’s daughter with him.
He was not interested in mating with the girl, he was only interested in getting the map on her shoulder analyzed and perhaps go treasure hunting. Unfortunately, Dai-Tan was not taking well to travel, and was quite ill. Her color had lightened, and the hair had begun to fall from her head. The shadows under her eyes suggested she didn’t have much time left.
Dec cared little if the girl died on their trip. He’d simply hack the skin from her body, and eject the remains from the ship. She may have thought he was in love with her, but he couldn’t bring himself to actually mate with a Sindai. He wanted someone like him.
Pushing a button on the console, Dec brought up a ghost-image on the shield in front of him. The black emptiness where Sindaise-Prime had been only days ago tugged at his heart. He was not of the Sindaise race, but had lived among those on Sindaise-Prime all his life. He’d been born there, created by recombining scattered bio-material gleaned from rogue debris bearing the marker O-R-B-I-T-E; a Geno. Dec had actually seen the debris pile at the station, and thought it looked as though it was from one very large ship. The Sindaise begged to differ, and he was punished for his insolence.
Sindaise-Prime had been his home, just as it was theirs. He hadn’t meant to destroy it performing the one task they’d given him to prepare him for citizenship.
Jeanie cleaned her station before preparing the coffee, pushing the ball of anger down deep where it wouldn’t surface for at least another day. Not once had Brandt cleaned away his crap before she started her shift.
Brandt had circled the anomaly on the screen. Not on a print out, but on the computer screen itself. “Asshole!” she mumbled as she tried to clean it off. Naturally the man was too dense to use a washable marker.
“What was that, Jeanie?” he whispered close to her ear, causing her to jump.
“Nothing, Brandt. I stubbed my toe when I shifted over here.”
“All right then. I want you to keep your eye on that spot, Jeanie.” His huge sausage finger pointed to the circle on the screen. “All right then, I’m out of here. I have a date. I don’t want to be disturbed, so just print anything out and leave it here. I’ll see it in the morning.”
“All right then, right back atcha, you officious little prick.” Jeanie whispered as he exited the office.
He was gone only fifteen minutes when the red light on the wall snapped on, and the alarm sounded.
In his dream, Dec stood on the platform, his arms raised to the skies, armed with an intricately carved metal in one hand, and his short-blade in the other. The bowl before him was filled with fire, the blue and green flames dancing like lovers in the moonlight. The crowds around him were silent in their awe.
“I call you down, great Tahsinh. Come, give your people your blessings!” Dec’s voice carried well over the crowd, and each person below echoed his call.
Thunder sounded, although the sky was clear and the stars shone brightly. Dec continued with his ritual, not taking heed of the warning from the gods. Ignoring the murmuring crowd.
“Tahsinh, come now, come forth, I demand you!”
Dec lost his footing as the ground beneath the platform bulged, then sank slightly. The Sindaise and the Genos below screamed as the bowl of fire fell forward, raining sparks and coals over their naked bodies. The Genos could stand having some damage to their outer skin, but the Sindaise burned easily and many now lay dying, oozing their yellowish fluids onto the ground. The Genos spilled their fluids just as easily, but theirs was red and thick, soon drying over the wounds, sealing them—even if burned.
Dec tried to maintain his footing but soon fell forward into the remaining crowd, now mostly Genos. They carried him across the compound to more solid ground, away from the destruction at the platform.
It wasn’t long before a Sindaise hover came to collect the Genos and take them away. Something in Dec’s ritual had gone terribly wrong, and they were now all under arrest. Genos were not allowed to practice the Sindaise religion. No Geno had ever performed an evokemeneal before, the prophecy warned of the results. As fire exploded from under the feet of the citizens of Sindaise-Prime, they realized prophecy spoke true. Should any Geno insult the gods of Sindai, ever shall they and the Sindaise suffer. Dec’s voice woke him, and he lay shivering in the dark.
The Sindaise-Prime system sun went supernova a week after Dec and his crew had been exiled from Sindaise-Seco. A day later, when the blast wave hit Sindaise-Seco, it too, was obliterated. The Sindai, except for those aboard Dec’s ship and the escape pods, were no more.
Jeanie tracked the movement from the black spot without printing it, without analyzing it. She simply watched. Brandt hadn’t wanted to be disturbed and the disgusting mass of jelly could just suck it up and take it like the man he was.
He’ll cry when he realizes I get this discovery, not him. Jeanie was taking particular delight in that, more so than having made a discovery at all. She’d already called it in to National, and SETI. SETI was covering it under her ID number, and National had already taken down her information. The only accolades Brandt would be given was that his lab would be named. She laughed.
The phone jangled beside her. Checking the little red light on the red phone first, she then picked up the receiver on the black one. “Hello, Brandt Astronomy, Jeanie speaking. How can I help you?”
“Jeanie, Steve here. We have some news for you.” Steve was a researcher at SETI, currently head of the research department. He and Jeanie had attended college together, vowing to be the first to make alien contact. Instead, they’d made first contact with each other.
“What is it, Steve? Is it debris?” Jeanie tried not to sound let down; with her luck, she just had a feeling it would be debris.
“No. Is Brandt there?” Steve was trying to sound casual, but something in his voice led Jeanie to believe he was about to snap like a twig.
“Absolutely not. He’s away on a date. Don’t laugh, I’ve met her. What is it Steve?”
“No, I can’t do that until you tell me if the machine under the desk is running.”
Jeanie knew Steve meant the phone-recorder. “Nope. I shut it off before I called you to begin with. Think I really want him to know about this until it hits the papers? Besides, I think he wanks to our conversations.”
“Jesus, Jeanie!”
“All right, all right. Sorry. Go ahead.” She had a notepad beside her, ready to write down anything he might say.
“It’s holding a steady course, and it’s slowing down, Jeanie. By dawn the ship will be at the moon and by four we’ll be having tea with whatever is on it.”
She couldn’t respond; her hand was covering her mouth and she was shaking uncontrollably. Contact!
Dec put Roos in charge of navigating the system they’d arrived in. He’d been here before, although only on the outer edges, skirting the planet they knew had life on it. The Sindai council did not want to be discovered creeping around in someone’s backyard.
Dec retired to his cabin, checking in on Dai-Tan. Her eyes were slightly open, the deep purple irises clouded over. Her cheeks had sunken in, making her seem even more skeletal than normal. He poked her, gently at first then with more force when she didn’t respond. Finally he put his hand down on her chest, and realized she wasn’t breathing at all.
Sighing, he began the task of removing the map and disposing of her body.
Roos tried to hide the ship behind a small satellite orbiting the planet they’d been warned away from. When the communications light came on, he knew he’d been unsuccessful. He rose to alert Dec, but ran right into the larger man standing in the doorway. Over the beeping from the console, they spoke.
“She’s dead.”
“They found us.”
They stared at each other. Roos wanted to believe Dec hadn’t deliberately killed Dai-Tan, but had discovered in the last weeks that he didn’t really know his friend all that well. It wasn’t just that they were of different races, but more that Dec had become so withdrawn and moody over the accident on Sindaise-Prime. The Dec he knew wouldn’t have cared this much.
Dec didn’t want to believe Roos had deliberately let themselves be found, but he was finding it hard to trust the Sindai, and since Roos was basically the senior Sindai on the ship, Dec was trusting him the least. Growing up together they’d never been apart, never argued. Now though… the race issue was coming up more and more often.
“I tried getting the ship behind the satellite in time, but they have many more scanners now. Many, many more. I thought you’d want to do the contact, since the ship is yours.” Roos offered a smile, which Dec ignored. “Have you disposed of Dai-Tan’s body?”
That simple comment earned Roos a glare Dec knew he’d never seen focused on him. The smile faded as Dec shoved past and sat at the console. “Take this down to Jessa and see what she can make of it now that it’s off Dai-Tan.” His outstretched hand held a still-damp swatch of Dai-Tan’s skin, marked with darker pigment that outlined the map.
Anger flashed on Roos’ face, showing he his anger at the desecration performed on one of his own and disgust at having to touch the flap of skin. Taking the map between his finger and thumb, he turned and left the deck.
Dec sat with his fingers in his mouth as he often did when tense. The taste of her blood lingered and caused his heart to jump.
Shrugging it off, he contemplated their situation. Contact protocol was written specifically for this planet. He’d read it early on in flight school. He knew what to do. Pushing certain keys on the board in front of him, a detailed grouping of mathematical equations were broadcast from the ship. The equations were basically a simpler way of saying ‘hello.’
Resting his head in his hands, he allowed a moment of grief to wash over him. Roos would laugh if he were to come in now, unannounced. Dec wiped at the fluids leaking from his eyes.
The com crackled with static, and he stared at it. A high-pitched, probably female voice broke through the interference.
“This is Jeanie Scott at Brandt Lab in Arnelle. I send greetings on behalf of the Commonwealth of Independent Countries. Welcome.”
Dec understood every word she said. He’d heard that language before, they taught it in flight school. He wondered if she’d be surprised when she heard his voice, and cleared his throat before reaching out to push another button.
“This is Dec, formerly of Sindaise-Prime. Exiled for breaking law and planetary destruction. I am Geno, the rest on board are Sindaise.”
More static was the only response.
Jeanie stood fidgeting with her skirt and hair. Steve kept poking her, whispering that she was fine, that she needed to pay attention. She was about to meet the now-infamous Dec. The Sindaise refused to exit the ship, but Dec had come willingly, surprising the Commonwealth President. Apparently, Dec was equally as surprised that the Sindaise would not descend from their ship, and gave up trying to convince them to come down.
Finally, it was Jeanie’s turn. Dec held out his hand—remarkably warm flesh with four fingers and a thumb—embraced hers and shook it gently before releasing it. When she looked into his eyes, she saw irises of deepest blue.
On July 18th 2012, in preparation of the Apocalypse prophecies revolving around the Mayan Calendar completion the following December, the DNA of the finest scholars and athletes of the 21st century had been placed aboard the Oribter Module Flight 616 before it was launched into space.
Andrew stopped cold on the hiking trail, mid-stride.
He had no idea there was a woman jogging behind until she ran right into him, knocking him over and falling on top of him, her legs splaying out across his back.
From their positions, it was difficult to extricate themselves without losing any and all dignity. After several moments of tussling around to get a footing, she finally dug her elbow into the soft tissue between his shoulder blades, to push herself up and off. She glared down at him as she dusted herself off.
“Just what the hell did you think you were doing, asshole? No one—no one—stops in the middle of the path without stepping aside,” she ranted at him, her breath coming hard and fast.
“I had no choice but to stop. Can’t you see that?” he replied, rolling to his side and pointing ahead a bare few inches.
There on the path, seeming to glitter in the leaf-filtered sunlight, was an eye. Small and drying out, but with the brightest blue iris he’d ever seen. Just the eyeball and a bit of stalk. No blood.
“Oh Jesus! What the hell?” she squealed as she covered her mouth. “What the fuck?” The woman spun on her heel and bent into the bushes next to the path.
Between the sight of the eye, and her wet retching sounds, Andrew nearly joined her.
Getting to his feet, he dug in his pack for a cloth and held it out for her when she faced him again. Nodding gratefully, the woman wet it with water from her bottle and wiped her mouth, eyes and neck.
“I don’t know why or what or how. All I know is, there it sits.” Andrew reached into a side pocket of his pack and pulled out his cell phone. With shaking fingers, he pressed the emergency quick-dial button and hoped for the best. He didn’t always get the greatest reception this far into the park, despite his signal booster and the tower at the ranger station.
“911, please state the nature of your emergency.” A harassed sounding, androgynous voice came from the phone.
Suddenly Andrew had no idea how to go about explaining the situation.
“Yeah, um, hi. I’m hiking in Rider Mountain Park, on trail sixty-three. I think I just passed the mile ten marker…” he glanced at the woman to see if she had noticed on her way down; she nodded so he turned back to the call. “Yeah, it’s mile ten. There’s an eye on the path.”
Silence from Andrew for a moment as he listened to the call handler.
“I’m not joking around. It’s an eye, it’s sans owner and it’s blue.” Like telling them the color of the iris is going to help, he thought to himself. He glanced back to his erstwhile companion, who was looking everywhere and anywhere, but at the eye. “No, I’m not alone. A jogger came along behind me, she’s still here as well… how the hell am I supposed to know? Just a minute.” Andrew turned to the woman, and passed her the phone. “911 wants your name.”
Dealing with an overworked emergency services worker wasn’t what he needed to do, he needed to take a deep breath and center himself, get calm, get happy. Andrew’s resolve waned as a vision of someone coming along, picking the eye up and putting it into an empty socket in their own skull came to him, and he nearly stepped on the offending eyeball as he lurched away. He just managed to pull his foot back, feeling like the orb was watching him from dirty path; he barely had time to find a bush of his own to retch into. After a moment, he straightened and wiped his mouth with his jacket sleeve.
“Yes, I understand. I’ll give him the phone and let you finish up with him.” She passed the phone back to Andrew, and after a moment gave him his cloth back, rinsed and ready to wipe his own face. She smiled sympathetically as he thanked her.
“They’ll be here in a half hour. We’ve been asked to stay here so they can speak to us, and help them find it. It’s not like the thing is going to get up and walk away though.” He shuddered, turning away from the eye’s glare.
“I’m Andrew, by the way.” He held his hand out, and she took it.
“I’m Stephanie. I guess I’m pleased to meet you.”
Her smile was brilliant. Under other circumstances, Andrew thought, I’d have no problems falling in love with her. He shook his head, wondering where that thought had surfaced from.
They made themselves as comfortable as they could, sitting in the sparse grass on the opposite side of the path from their respective messes. They talked a little about the park, the city and their jobs as they waited. It seemed to be much longer than a half hour later when Andrew checked his watch; he was right, it had been an hour.
“They’re late. Think we should call again?” he asked Stephanie. After catching a brief nod out of the corner of his eye, he dialed 911 again. The line was busy and stayed that way for some time, and finally he gave up. Angrily sliding his phone shut and jamming it into his pocket.
The tension was mounting again, and after another half hour the pair of them threatened to walk away, leaving the eye behind them.
“Isn’t that the same as leaving the scene of an accident though? I mean, we gave them our names. They could track us down,” Stephanie commented. Andrew thought she seemed pretty sure they’d get into trouble if they left.
“At this point I don’t care. They can check the records on my cell—I’ve been calling. It’s now…” Andrew glanced at his watch again. “10 AM and they were supposed to be here at 8:30. I’m just glad I’m not working today. I’d be fired for being this late, under normal circumstances.”
Stephanie nodded. She didn’t need to tell him she was late for work; she’d been getting more and more fidgety as time passed. “Could I borrow your phone for a moment? I really should call in so they know where I am. I don’t necessarily have to be there, but I should let them know I’m okay.”
Andrew handed her the phone, his brow wrinkling as he contemplated her words. Who doesn’t need to go in to work, unless they work from home or owned their own business?
He watched her shift her weight from one leg to the other as she spoke to someone on the other end of the call, her tight bicycle shorts showing off every curve as she did so. Despite the situation, despite the anxiety he was feeling, Andrew felt himself getting aroused.
Or at least interested, and that in itself hadn’t happened in a very long time. Again, he couldn’t figure out why he would be having such ideas in the situation he found himself in.
She walked back to him, smiling, and again he found himself thinking he could fall in love with her. Involuntarily, his eyes slipped lower and he watched the rise and fall of her chest with each step she took. Glancing upwards again, Andrew realized he’d been caught and grinned apologetically.
“Like what you see, Andrew?” she asked, sitting down beside him again. When she was settled, she looked him in the eye, quite openly. Obviously, she expected a truthful answer and he found he couldn’t lie.
“Yes. I do.” He nodded, as if to emphasize the point. “I’m sorry, it… it’s been a long time. My wife, Nora… she died six months ago.” Andrew glanced away for a moment, hiding his emotions. “She was sick for some time before that. I’m sorry if I offended you, Stephanie. I’ve never… you are an extraordinarily beautiful woman.”
Stephanie brushed the hair from her forehead, leaned in and put the tip of her forefinger on Andrew’s chin. An almost intangible electric shock radiated from that contact point, along his jaw-line and up, directly into his temple. He was forced to look at her again. That was most definitely not static electricity…
She placed her lips against his, applying the lightest of pressure. She kept her eyes open, and so she saw his reaction. Andrew had closed his eyes, and given himself over to her. Good. This is almost too easy.
She let her tongue slide between his lips and from there she explored his mouth. As she did so, she closed her fist around his cell phone, muffling the beep as she turned it off.
Carefully, not breaking the physical contact between them, she leaned in further and rolled slightly to the side. Within moments, she could feel Andrew’s passion had grown so he wouldn’t be noticing anything outside of their own small embrace.
She pulled him over on top of her, sliding her arms around him. Andrew ran a hand along her side, under her tank top. He didn’t seem surprised to find her bra-less under it; his fingers never faltered in their exploration. She moved her hips beneath him, lowering her shorts, her hands then swiftly taking care of his zipper, and shoving his pants down over his hips. Still without breaking their kiss, she pulled him into her…
Andrew felt as though he were floating on a whole oceans worth of waves, each one holding more pleasure than the last. It had been so long and he was so completely, utterly, strangely turned on that it wasn’t any time at all before he felt the first warnings of orgasm.
Stephanie moved under him suddenly and then he was on his back, feeling something move and pop under his shoulder, but far too deep into his own mounting climax to care what it was.
He opened his eyes just as he began to come, feeling his semen exploding into Stephanie.
At the last convulsive twitches, her face began to change.
She was no longer beautiful, in fact she wasn’t even pretty. Her skin had become a sleek, shiny grey and instead of her beautiful, full lips, she had some kind of sucker; the kind he imagined a leech would have. Above that, her nose and eyes had melted together, forming a cluster of tiny dark orbs.
His scream was cut off by the sucker of her mouth.
When she pulled back, his lips and a large part of his tongue were gone. Regardless, Andrew continued to try and scream.
She rose, picking him up as though he were nothing more than a sack of flour, and standing him roughly on his feet. Moaning, he looked down as she pointed to the ground where they had only moments before been fucking like bunnies.
They’d been on the path.
When she’d rolled them to ride his cock, he’d rolled over the eyeball; that was the squishy pop he’d felt against his back. As he stood, mind trapped within the sheer terror of it all, Stephanie grabbed a fistful of his hair and ripped his head back.
She slid a claw across and under the lower eyelid of her captive’s right eye, severing the anchors holding it in his skull, sliding it out onto her hand. Stuffing the orb into her mouth, she repeated the action on the other side—all while chewing happily.
Andrew’s odd, gurgling screams were heard by no one.