A short horror story the other side of the twilight zone.5. |
The Lost and Found Darian’s eyes dragged. The perforated white lines in the middle of the road began to blur into one continuous streak. Already he had swerved back onto the road several times. He made a mental note to write a thank you letter to the guy that thought of putting those little rivets in the shoulder of the road to make that irritating noise when your tires went across them. Time began to have no meaning. He wasn’t sure how long he had been driving just that he had been at it for hours. A tiny alarm went off inside his chest. He looked down at the fuel gauge. “Damn.” The needle rested just above “E”. The old joke flashed through his mind. That stands for “enough” right? No, Darian, that doesn’t stand for enough, he thought. He sighed and tried to think. He was literally in the middle of nowhere, and he wasn’t even sure of exactly which nowhere he could possibly be in. After their argument he just left. He just had to get out, so he picked a direction and drove. He knew that gas stations had to situate themselves within a relative distance from each other just by the nature of being all the way out here so that stupid people like him didn’t end up stranded in the middle of the night. At least, he hoped they situated themselves that way. In either case gas wasn’t really the first thing on his mind. All he wanted to do was to get out of his used mini truck and sulk over a cold domestic beer. Gas or beer it didn’t really matter at this point. He was in “that” frame of mind, as she’d say to him snidely. Darian was in his famous “screw the world” mood in which nothing in the world really meant a thing to him. It didn’t matter at this point that it was pitch black, or that his relationship was damn near over. No lights, no life, no shit. Frustration finally took over. He pulled the car over and sat there. He sighed and looked out into the darkness, curse words fell out of his mouth. He might as well have had his eyes closed the scenery would have been the same. His butt was sore, and all the sudden the beer took second priority as the need to stand and stretch his muscles took over. Slowly he reached for the handle and cracked open the door. The brisk coolness of the night slid against his cheeks, which felt very refreshing, compared to the stuffy air inside the truck. He pulled the zipper up a bit on his leather jacket and slowly stretched out his stiff muscles. His arms gave way to the warm sensation of being pulled gently, as did his legs as he simulated a slow jogging motion to ease his muscles. Slowly he rolled his neck, hollow popping sounds breaking the silence. Once the tension went out of his muscles Darian began to focus on the bigger problems facing him at hand. In prioritized order of course: find a bar, and then ask where the gas station is. But he hadn’t the slightest clue as how to find either. He hadn’t even seen the headlights of another car in over an hour. No signs of civilization at all as a matter of fact, in fact...he hadn’t even seen a sign of any kind whatsoever. Darian leaned against the car his mind going blank. Between the fight and his current predicament he would only be cussing at himself anyway. He sighed slightly and looked over. His eyebrows narrowed as he noticed another car parked just on the side of the road up ahead of him. He walked over and spotted that no one was in it. It was one of those old cars from the ‘30’s, painted black. The car looked like it had been there for years. Darian noticed lettering on the side of the driver’s door: Mitch’s Traveling’ Trombone. Darian just smirked at the phrase. His eyes caught a black case in the back seat of the run down car. Probably the trombone he thought. Darian blew out another sigh and turned to head back to his truck. Instead he kicked at the gravel on the road noting the rhythmic din it made as the pebbles skidded across the road. "Rhythmic?" he thought. His ears perked up and he stood silent for a moment. He could just barely make out a thumping in the distance. He turned his head and lost the sound. For a moment he thought it could just be his mind playing tricks. Again he stood still and could faintly pick it up. The noise had no direction though, each time he moved to pinpoint the beat it went silent and switched direction. Finally he just decided he was grabbing at straws and turned to get back in the truck and just drive as far as he could go on what fuel he had left. As he reached for the handle his eye caught a red glare on the roof of the truck. Darian looked up and saw what was making the glare. A large neon sign was mounted just off the road. It read “The Lost and Found” in large illuminated letters. Blinking slowly he eyes trailed past the sign and landed on the outline of a building. Darian cocked his head slightly and looked back behind him, then down the road and back again. How could he have missed the sign as he got out? No way was it there a moment ago. Looking at his feet he shrugged off the thought. Maybe his eyes just were too tired with all the darkness he’d seen in the past couple of hours his eyes didn’t see anything else. The night air got to him and his body shook momentarily from a chill. Well, no sense standing here any longer I suppose, he thought. Darian proceeded to go around make his way towards the sign and the building behind it. Hopefully it wasn’t just some closed business. What kind of place has the name “Lost and Found” anyway? As he came closer to the building the faint thumping he had heard earlier began to take shape into a stronger beat from the building. It was unmistakably hard rock music. Some song he wasn’t familiar with, but either way a grin crept across his face. “Ask and ye shall receive.” He said with a smile. Darian approached the building. It reminded him of just about every dive bar he had ever seen in a movie. It was completely made out of wood and had a large porch in front. A couple of neon beer signs hung in the windows and a single white bulb lit up the door. The only thing it didn’t have was a line of Harley’s in the front like you always saw in the movies. Suddenly he stopped. In fact, it didn’t have anything in front of it, motor bike or otherwise. He turned in each direction. The only vehicles he saw were his truck and run down car just beyond that. Slowly he walked near the side of the building and craned his neck out. There was nothing out back either. Yet, this close he not only heard the music, but the distinct rumble movement and sounds of people inside. Darian thought it could be possible there was a trailer park nearby. He supposed the locals just walked to the bar and stumbled back home. As long as they had beer who cared? Darian turned back around and headed up the porch. He shook his head grinning a bit at hearing the creak of the steps beneath him. It was all so stereotypical. He pushed through the door fully prepared for the wall of smoke and the smell of a hundred liquors mixed with the odor of people to hit him. Darian stopped halfway into the door his arm still partially outstretched when he froze. The bar was empty His eyes scanned around as a lump in his throat began to build. It was a bar all right. Pool tables, neon signs, those tiny disks on a pole with chairs situated around that supposedly represent tables. He moved his head across the full-length bar. “Welcome.” Darian’s body jolted. “Holy sh…!” Darian looked across the bar and saw the bartender. The man had a pleasant look on his face. He was bald man, older looking, he wore a long white dress shirt with a black vest and bowtie. Typical penguin dress of the fancier lounge bars Darian had been to. Too bad the bartender looked like a milk bucket under a bull in this dive. The bartender was leaning over the bar slightly, his arms outstretched with his palms flat on the surface. He looked relaxed. Darian’s eyes quickly darted across the bar again to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. “Get’cha sum’thin?” The bartender asked pushing off the bar. “Uh, Beer...Whatever you got. Longneck...please.” Darian walked towards the bar and took a stool in front of the bartender. The old man turned and reached down into a cooler and pulled out a longneck bottle and uncapped it before setting it down in front of Darian. The bartender nodded at him pleasantly and went back to leaning against the bar, this time on one elbow looking at Darian. Darian turned away on his stool ignoring the bartender a moment and looked towards the door to see if anyone else per chance would walk in. No such luck. He swiveled back in the stool and looked at the bartender, the glow of a bar light underneath the old man lit up his face from beneath eerily. It reminded Darian of someone telling camp stories with the flashlight beneath their chin. Darian took a swig of his beer and put on a pleasant face of his own. “So, uh...Business a little slow lately?” Darian asked. The bartender’s eyes looked up and out at the rest of the room for a moment. “Nope.” Darian looked at the man stupidly for a moment and sipped his beer again. “Oh. So I, uh...Must just be early for the party huh?” “Nope.” The bartender looked into Darian’s eyes. “Oh.” Said Darian. He sipped his beer again and swiveled out towards the room once more hoping that someone would magically appear. He sat up straight his eyes glancing once more over to the bartender who was still watching him. Darian cleared his throat grabbing at straws to break the ice. His eyes caught the glare of the neon sign through the window. “Lost and Found huh?” Darian pushed the words through with a smile. “Why’d you decide to name it that?” The bartender shifted his weight, his eyes finding the same spot that Darian had and looked back at him. “You were lost weren’t you?” the bartender said. Darian nodded. “Well, yes.” “Well, now you’re found.” The bartender smiled back. “Ah, get a lot of stragglers in here I take it?” The bartender just nodded. “Well then, you must know where a gas station is around here huh?” Darian asked. “Nope.” Darian just blinked at the bartender and set his beer down. “What do you mean, nope?” the frustration began to seep through his tone. “This place is out in the middle of friggin’ nowhere. You just said you get a lot of stragglers in here. Obviously some of them must ask you for directions or where a gas station is!” The bartender just nodded, the pleasantness in his face had washed away. Darian just sat back trying to hold his temper as his looked around the empty bar again. He sighed and looked at his beer, then took another swig. “Oh,” Darian grinned gritting his teeth somewhat. “I get it. Hah!” He waved his finger in shame at the bartender. Darian stood and reached deep into his pocket pulling out some crumpled bills. He threw out a couple of dollars by the beer as the bartender watched, and then tossed out a twenty dollar bill closer to the bartender’s hand. Darian sat back in his stool and watched the bartender. “Now, where’s the damn gas station?” The bartender’s eyes glanced up to Darian from the twenty-dollar bill and just shrugged. “Dunno.” He said flatly. Darian quickly jumped off his stool and paced back. “You don’t know? You don’t know! What the hell!” He was enraged now. All the frustration from the fight and the drive was pouring out. “I drive out in the middle of friggin’ nowhere, its pitch black, and I don’t even know where the hell I am! This freaking bar pops out of nowhere. I’m hearing things, and there’s no one around! Where is everyone? Where the hell is this!” The bartender didn’t move at all during Darian’s rant. He just watched peacefully, a stoic look on his face. Darian just looked back at him breathing hard. “Look, I’m sorry man, I know it’s not your fault I’m out here, but I need some help. Can you just tell me where the next town is at or something? I can hike it or whatever, just please tell me.” The bartender shifted his weight again and just looked back at Darian and shrugged. “Dunno.” The bartender said. Darian’s shoulders went limp as he sulked over walking back towards the stool. He sat down heavily and rubbed his eyes. “Wha...what do you mean you don’t know?” The bartender just looked at him. A muted gaseous belch pushed through his lips. The bartender stood erect and held his chest. Darian’s eyebrows narrowed looking at him. “Hey, you ok? I didn’t mean to get you all up set or anything.” The bartender’s eyes shifted back at Darian. Another belch escaped him and he stumbled back slightly. This time, along with the belch a yellowish liquid slid out the corner of the bartender’s mouth. “What the...” Darian muttered, standing. The bartender’s eyes suddenly went flush to black and his jaw shot down gaping, blood spattered across the bar as his cheek skin shredded away. “Mother!” Darian shouted as he stumbled back away. The bartender’s skin quickly changed color as if decomposing from a healthy peach color to a shriveled gray. The bartender’s clothes faded in color. His shirt becoming dirty and yellowed like it had been worn for fifty years. Dust seemed to seep out of the bartender’s pores. Darian turned on his heels and darted back for the door without even looking. He ran full force into a wall and knocked back on his butt. His eyes madly searched for the door as he scrambled to his feet. It was gone. He looked back over the bar. The once pleasant bartender had become a grotesque zombie and it was starting to head around the bar towards Darian. Darian shouted out a string of curses and walked back on his heels, as he looked around for anyway possible way out. The thought of diving out a window occurred to him and his eyes attempted to target the closest one, but none came to sight. He spun around quickly as nothing but wooden walls surrounded him. Darian looked back at the zombie as it came towards him. A wave of anger flooded through Darian's body as he backed towards a pool table grabbed a pool stick from it, and ran hard back at the zombie. As soon as he was close enough Darian let loose with his best baseball swing with the large end of the stick at the zombie’s head. The zombie was quick to put its arm up and the stick just broke across its forearm. The liquid black eyes burned at Darian as the zombie made a hissing noise and grabbed him by the throat. Darian felt his throat pinching and a burning sensation came over him as he gasped. The zombie drew back the other arm and punched Darian hard in the stomach. Everything went blurry and Darian’s knees weakened. His body slumped to the floor as he fell back hitting his head against the wood planks. Darian’s body burned and ached from the hit. He tried to roll away, but the zombie jumped across him and straddled Darian’s body. The zombie quickly pinned him to the floor. Tears suddenly welled up in Darian’s eyes from knowing that he was about to die. Fear overcame his body and he went numb. Darian looked directly into the zombie’s gaping mouth and noticed a blue light rising from the back of its throat. The glow became more intense and was strangely peaceful to look at. Darian let out a muffled scream as the zombie shoved its fingers into his mouth and fish hooked his jaw, yanking it open. The taste of rancid flesh and dirt hit his tongue and he began to gag. A small blue orb rose out of the zombie’s throat and floated for a moment inside its mouth. Slowly the orb began to lower, Darian’s eyes followed the orb and he began fighting and struggling even harder as he saw it was lowering down into his own mouth. Darian felt the zombie’s body weaken and go limp as the orb left its body. A sudden convulsion came over him and a flash of white crossed his eyes as he felt the round object push down his throat. * * * The young woman pushed through the door of the old bar relieved to know finally know that she was going to see some sign of life. She was scared to be out in the middle of no where on such a dark night. She was mad at herself for missing her exit while searching for a cigarette in her purse while driving. Her quick stride slowed when she realized no one was inside as she glanced around. Confusion overwhelmed the young woman, as she was sure she had just unmistakably heard music and voices a moment ago. Especially with the small truck just sitting by the edge of the road where she had stopped, she assumed that at the very least someone else would be in here. “Evening.” A voice said. The young woman jumped and gasped. Her eyes caught the bartender. He was a young man with dark hair. She thought it was a little odd for a bartender to be wearing a leather jacket, but she just shrugged hoping he could tell her how to get back to the highway. “Getcha sum’thin?” The bartender asked as pleasant smile stretched across his face. |