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Blackout At Cherry Estates: Part VI



By  TheCanerdian     1:23 PM    Labels:, 
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Blackout at Cherry Estates:  Part VI

Michael was standing at the edge of an abyss.  He rocked on his heels, waves of vertigo crashing over his mind.  He put out a hand to steady himself and stifled a yelp of shock.  His fingers brushed against Catherine's jacket.

At his touch, his girlfriend looked back at him in concern.  "Are you all right?"

Sweat beaded on his brow.  "Fine," he breathed.  "Fine.  Just lost my balance there.  It's so dark, you know?"

Catherine put on a brave smile.  "Tell me about it."  She nodded her head towards the front of their tiny column, where Pat and Ashley had broken stride to wait up for them.

"Come on," Ashley said.  "We just have to find the stairwell, and it's a straight shoot up to the roof hatch."



"Right," Michael said.  "It's just...The old lady?  That Morgan guy?  Suppose we run into other people like them?"

"We won't.  The stairwell's at this end of the hall, before the apartments.  We don't have to worry about that.  And anyway, we might get lucky and find other people who are exactly in the same situation we are."

Michael swallowed hard.  He felt nauseous, as if he'd been riding a rollercoaster for hours.  He bit his tongue and followed after the others.

At the front of the group, Ashley leaned in to Pat and whispered "He has a point, you know."

"That's why I brought this."  Pat indicated the hammer he'd retrieved from the toolbox downstairs.  Aside from this, Catherine wielded a wrench, Michael a carpenter's level, and Ashley still had her can of pepper spray.  A group of scared cavemen wielding sharp sticks against a mammoth.

Glancing down the hallway, Ashley tightened her grip on her only weapon.  "We should keep our voices down, all the same."

Pat grunted in agreement.  They were close to the stairwell, now.  As Ashley had said, they wouldn't have to pass by any apartments to reach the roof accessible staircase, but they would be coming extremely close to some of the first floor units.  They had no way of knowing if anyone was even present, let alone if they were in any condition to be friendly.  The pitch blackness seemed to cut off sound as efficiently as it chopped off line of sight.

They reached the door.  It was propped open, likely left that way by one of the residents who had been on their way to the laundry room.  Pat shone his flashlight down in that direction, but they couldn't make out any shapes past the first set of steps.  Pat flicked his head at the doorjamb.  Ashley nodded her agreement.  After Michael passed inside the threshold, she removed the wooden block and let the door slide shut, carefully holding the knob with her free hand so that it hissed into place with a barely audible click.

The moment the door was closed, Michael let out a horrified gasp and fell back against the wall, hand clutched to his chest as if he were having a heart attack.  Beside him, Catherine dropped her wrench with a clatter and caught hold of him with both hands as he sagged.  "Michael?  Michael, are you okay?"

Ashley hissed a warning and held her finger to her lips.  Catherine shot her a dark look, but continued in a softer tone.  "Michael," she said.  "What's wrong?"

"Didn't you hear it?"  He whispered back.  "You must have heard it."

"What?"

"The screaming."  Michael shuddered and put his palms to his face.  "So loud.  None of you heard it?"

Ashley and Pat exchanged glances.  "No, Michael," Ashley said.  "We didn't."

Michael was breathing heavily.  "I'm not crazy."

"Nobody's saying that," Catherine soothed.  "Come on now, let's keep going."

Michael's eyes darted suspiciously between Ashley and Pat.  He took Catherine's offered arm and started up the stairs.  The others followed after, step by step.

Halfway up to the second floor, Pat nudged Ashley.  "Hey," he said.  "We should be coming up on a window, here.  Maybe we can see something from here."

Ashley was doubtful, but she signaled Michael and Catherine to stop.  Pat found the window in question a moment later with the dim glow from his flashlight.  The crosshatch portal was quite large, about two feet across and five feet high, but they couldn't make out any lights beyond it.  Pat grimaced at the sight.  "No stars for us," he muttered.

Ashley patted him on the back with a bittersweet camaraderie, and they carried on.  "Okay," Ashley said as they rounded the corner past the second floor.  "Just one more flight to go, and then we'll be at the roof hatch."

"Good," Catherine sighed.  "I feel like the air is so close in here."  She started at her own words.  "You don't think we have a limited air supply, do you?"

Ashley didn't know what to say to that, so she settled for "Let's hope not."

Pat, in the lead, suddenly halted, causing the others to bump and jostle against each other.  Michael, in particular, was nervously glancing behind and tripped flat onto his stomach at the sudden stop.

"What is it?"  Ashley asked.

"Something's blocking the way," Pat murmured.

"What do you mean?"  Michael demanded, brushing himself off.  "A barricade?"

"No," Pat said.  "Just give me some space a moment, will you?"  He waved the others back.

Ashley crouched down beside him, trying to squint into the gloom.  She could make out some kind of taught fabric, like a curtain, swathed over the hallway at a jagged angle.  How someone had rigged tht up was beyond her.  "What are you doing?" she asked Pat.

"Trying to get a better look."  Pat reached out a hand and brushed it against the material.  "No way."

"What?"

Pat didn't answer her at first.  His hand wavered.  "We should go back," he said.

"Pat," Ashley snapped.  "What.  Is.  It?"

Pat's adam's apple bobbed.  "I think..."  He licked his lips anxiously and his voice trembled.  "I think...it's skin."

Catherine cupped her hands over her mouth to stop herself screaming.  Michael went goggle-eyed and sat down, hard, on the staircase.  Ashley pushed past Pat and ran her fingers over the material as well.  Sure enough, it felt like human flesh.  Spongy, soft, smooth in places, hairy in others...it was even warm to the touch.  And it felt like it was pulsing with breath...in...out...in...

"Go back down," Ashley said.  "Now."

Catherine vaulted four steps in one giant leap.  Pat tried to follow after, but Michael hadn't moved from his prone position.  Ashley cursed venomously and reached out to haul Michael to his feet.  Before her hand reached him, he let out a blood-curdling shriek.

"NO!"  Michael screamed, freezing Catherine in her tracks and sending Pat and Ashley stumbling back.  "No, not me!  Not me!  Won't do it to me!"  He leaped down the stairs.

"Michael!"  Catherine shouted desperately.  "Where are you going?"

"Get out!"  He screeched back.  "Won't do it to me!  Not me!  NOT ME!"  He headed for the window and slapped his hands against it in out-of-control terror.

"Stop him!"  Ashley cried.  She and Pat thumped down the stairs.

Michael was having no success with his fists in getting the window open..  He'd forgotten his carpenter's level entirely, abandoned on the steps behind him.  Pat tripped over it and fell in a heap at Michael's feet.  Ashley stumbled over him.

Michael screamed once more, without words, just a throaty, endless wail of fear.  He tilted his head back and smashed his forehead through the window pane.  The window exploded into tiny bubbles of glass.  He punched out the remaining shards and put one foot through the frame.

"Michael!"  Catherine tried once more.  "Don't!"

And then he was gone.  His screams abruptly cut off.  Ashley and Pat both stared after him in shock.

The moment seemed to drag.  Then time started flowing again and Catherine let out an anguished sob and tried to reach the window.  Ashley clicked back into her senses again and held her back.  "Don't," she pleaded.  "Don't.  He's gone.  Don't."

"You don't know that," Catherine wailed.  "Maybe he got out."

Pat grimly made his way to the window and peeked out.  Seeing nothing beyond, he took his hammer and slid it into the frame.  It warped in on itself in the same fashion his hand had with the front door.  "Jesus," he said simply.

"No," Catherine cried.  "Why isn't he looping back then, like with the door?  He went out and came back.  Maybe if we just wait, he'll come back."

Ashley bit her lip.  "I think," she said carefully.  "I think it's different this time.  He was falling when he went out the window, so..."

Catherine rounded on her, tears streaking her cheeks.  "So what?"

"So wherever he is now, he's falling.  Or he's landed."

Catherine squeezed her eyes shut and moaned.  Ashley reached out for her and Catherine smacked her away.  "Get away from me," she sobbed.  "Leave me alone."

Ashley looked to Pat, who simply shrugged.  The silence in the staircase was grim and uncompromising.

"Hello?"

Ashley jerked her head up in surprise.  Pat's lips parted in wonder.  Catherine sniffed.  "Michael?"  she called out.  "Michael, is that you?"

She peered out the window.

"Who's there?"

The voice had come from the staircase below.  Pat turned his flashlight downwards.  It illuminated a youthful face, streaked with blood and dirt.  The man blinked in the sudden light and held a hand up.  "Who is that?"  He called.

"I know that voice," Ashley said to Pat.  "Mr. Collins?  Travis Collins?"

 "That's right."  The young man had a length of pipe in his hand.  A vacuum cleaner pipe, Ashley realized.  He wore jeans and a plaid shirt, and he looked like hell.  But in his eyes, Ashley thought she could see a glimmer of sanity.  "And who the fuck is that?"  Travis demanded.

"Ashley, the concierge," she replied.  "And Pat.  With a friend."

Travis' mouth split into a grin.  "Are you here to rescue me?"

Ashley chuckled sadly.  "Travis, if that's what you're hoping for, I have to seriously disappoint you."

(click here to continue...)

About TheCanerdian

Tim Ford is an author, designer, nerd and Canadian, best summarized as a CaNerdian.

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