The dead wants company. Hers.
BY VICTORIA LEY
Standing atop the large stone
steps, she surveyed her surroundings. The town was cold, quiet, and alien, and
the longer Christina stared at it, the more uncomfortable she became.
Walking down
the stairway and onto the street, she wondered how long it had been since its
population abandoned it. By the state of the road, it’d been months, maybe years,
since it had witnessed the passing of any traffic, and through the haze that
hung in the air, Christina could see that the buildings were dirty, unused,
forgotten. Pulling her shirt closer to her body, she stepped out onto the
track.
The streets
were poorly lighted by lampposts. Christina moved between them, and as she
passed each one, the bulb popped, showering her with shadows. She picked up
speed, trying desperately to keep ahead of the darkness until she was sprinting
along the road. Looking over her shoulder, she could see that her point of
origin had disappeared, swallowed whole by obscurity, and she knew then that
there would be no turning back. Head down, she pounded on.
It was almost
half a minute later that she reached the end of the road and found her exit
blocked by a huge, wrought iron gate. She grabbed at the bars with both hands,
an action born of frustration as she had already known that it would be locked.
Stepping back, she ran a hand through her loose hair and shook her head
vaguely.
“You sure you
want to get out?”
The voice came
from her right, and she turned to see a young man sitting on the curb.
“There’s more
here to be seen, you know.”
His voice had a
soft Australian accent, and he stared at the floor as he spoke. Christina could
see a tattoo poking out from under the hair at the nape of his neck. She took a
step toward him.
“I’m
understanding that. Do you know why I’m here?”
He gestured
slightly. “I do. And you will.”
Her attention
was drawn to something he was holding, and she realised that he hadn’t been
looking at the floor, he’d been reading. In his hand was a very familiar book,
and Christina’s stomach rolled as he glanced up and made eye contact.
He was maybe
twenty, and had a mop of mousy-brown hair that he pushed back out of his face.
Looking Christina up and down with hazel eyes, he gave a small smile and held
the object out to her. “It’s in black and white, but not always obviously so.
If you want the full story, you’ll have to open up, look inside, and read what
isn’t there.”
Bending toward
him, Christina claimed the book from his hand and opened it randomly.
The pages were
large, much larger than inside the volume she owned, and as she stared, they
seemed to expand to the size of a small TV. She began to read the black
lettering from the top and saw that it was some kind of poetry. As she neared
the bottom of the page, the words began to distort. Blinking heavily, she
looked away from the text and then back, but still the inscription blurred. She
shook her head at him over the top of the page.
“I can’t read
this.”
He stood up,
and Christina took a step back. He smiled gently, seemingly amused by her cowed
movement, and slowed his actions as he reached over and tapped the hardcover.
“You can,” he
said, “once you know how. It’s obscured, but the text is vital. You have to be able to read it, and soon. The key is that it
isn’t automatic.”
She closed it
and handed it back, suddenly feeling annoyed. “Am I supposed to understand what
you’re on about?” she said. “I don’t. I’m going.”
Turning around,
she made her way back to the gate.
“Please don’t
ignore this, Christina.”
She faltered.
“If they didn’t
think that there was anything you could do, I wouldn’t be here.”
A part of her
knew that he must be right, but there was something in his tone, a resignation,
that disturbed her, and she hung her head as she whispered, “I’m not going to
leave here, am I?”
He
nodded. “You will,” he said. “But if you want to get out for good, you’ll have
to survive Tuesday.”
2 comments:
Again, this is great. Love the ending.. 'you'll have to survive Tuesday.'
'Tuesday' is a family joke. hehe. You actually had me smiling, after the tension.
Oh really?!
Share? :)
I wasn't sure about posting this an an excerpt, as I was worried there's no context to it. I'm glad you like it :)
Excerpts are hard!
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