Beneath the Veil (6 page)

No one answered, but hushed voices rose from the cellar below. She descended halfway down the wooden staircase when a hand reached through the steps and grabbed her ankle. She tumbled down the stairs, landing on a dirt floor. Darkness turned into a flash of white as a shovel hit the back of her head.

C H A P T E R  T W E N T Y - T H R E E

J
en lay unconscious on the dirt cellar floor. A young boy kneeled next to her, examining her face in the light of his lantern. His two sisters stood close behind him.

“Is she dead, Daniel?” his sister Tonya asked.

“No, she looks like a regular person,” he answered.

“I mean is she dead now?” the girl added.

“I think she’s still breathing. Get her back, Tonya, she shouldn’t see this,” the boy said.

Tonya grabbed the hand of her younger sister, who clutched a soiled doll, and pulled her back into another room.

“Come on now, Katy. We need to wait a minute,” Tonya said softly to the girl.

Daniel turned up his lantern and illuminated the low ceiling and stone walls of the cellar. He removed his jacket and placed it under Jen’s head. He had a difficult decision to make before the sun went down. Either drag her into the storeroom and take his chances, or leave her out to be ripped to shreds by the bad ones. He peeled back her eyelids and looked at her pupils. They seemed normal enough, but he had never been this close to one before. He jumped to his feet and wielded the shovel when Jen began to groan. She opened her eyes, reached for the swollen lump on the back of her head, and started to get up.

“Stay right there, lady,” Daniel said. “I’ll crack you again.”

“No, please,” she said, putting her hands out in front of her.

“My name is Jen. I don’t mean you any harm.”

Daniel lowered the shovel slightly.

“I saw the smoke from your fire,” she added.

Tonya emerged from the storeroom with Katy behind her.

“Tonya, get back,” Daniel snapped.

“Daniel, I don’t think she’s one of those things,” Tonya said. “Being she’s out during the day and all.”

He raised his shovel again.

“Are you with the hunters from the mining camp?” he asked.

“No. I don’t know anything about any camp,” she answered.

“Daniel, it’s getting dark,” Tonya said.

He turned and looked up the stairs at the dim light filtering through the kitchen window and then at his sisters. His parents were gone, killed the same day their car broke down in Auraria. He was fourteen now, and it was his job to look after them.

“Okay, get up,” Daniel said. He threw the shovel down.

“It’s getting late. We need to hide in there,” he said pointing at the storeroom.

Jen brushed herself off, collected the backpack from the ground and slung it over her shoulder.

“I’m out of here,” she said. “I need to find my brother and boyfriend.”

“It’s too late, you can’t leave,” Daniel insisted.

“Where are your parents, anyway?” Jen demanded.

“They’re dead,” Tonya answered stepping from the shadows. “Those things got to them.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Next week will make a year, I think,” Daniel answered.

His face was smudged with dirt and his hair was long and matted. He looked nervously at the fading light above where the kitchen was nearly dark. He picked up the lantern and turned up the flame, the glow created ominous looking shadows within the confines of the cellar.

“Please stay here tonight,” Tonya pleaded.

“I can’t,” Jen argued, then took a stumbling step towards the stairs.

Daniel caught her arm and kept her from falling, then helped her into the storeroom. The room, lined with makeshift shelving, was filled with fruit and vegetables and buckets of water. Lanterns, tools, and various other items were neatly organized in one of the corners. Daniel swung the heavy wooden door closed, then placed a piece of timber into brackets hung on the back of the door.

“That should hold,” Daniel said.

“Time for night-night Katy,” Tonya said softly.

She took a strip of cloth and wrapped it around the girl’s ears, then laid her back on the cot under a frayed blanket.

“It helps with the noises, they get pretty bad most nights,” Tonya said.

“I’ve heard them myself,” Jen responded. “What are those things?”

“People, I think,” Daniel answered. “At least they used to be.”

“Sometimes they talk to us,” Tonya said. “Tell us to come out.”

“But most nights they don’t say anything at all, they just try to get in,” Daniel added.

Tears rolled down Tonya’s face. Jen sat down and put an arm around the girl’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. We’ll get out of this place and find help. There must be other towns nearby,” Jen said.

“You can’t leave,” Daniel said flatly. “They won’t let you.”

“We’ve tried,” Tonya said. “Daniel took that bike and rode for help.” The girl pointed at a rusty Schwinn leaning against a wall. “But every road ended up back here.”

“Nearly didn’t make it back in time,” Daniel added.

“Then we tried getting out on the river. Daniel made a raft from logs and rope and it floated real well,” she smiled at her brother.

“But the river looped back where we started,” Daniel said. “It’s hopeless, we can’t leave.”

“But that’s impossible,” Jen said.

“Impossible, but true,” Tonya insisted. “Our mom used to say there was no such thing as monsters. But now we know there are.”

Daniel wound an antique Victrola, then touched the needle to a spinning record and the room came alive with the sound of a gypsy violin.

“They’ll come soon,” Daniel said.

He blew out his lantern, sat back and put his hands over his ears. Jen found a car seat propped against a wall and stretched out. Her head pounded, but she was exhausted and quickly fell asleep. The bad ones came shortly after one a.m. The creak of the stairs woke Jen, she sat up and the car seat rocked as she shifted her weight. Someone moved inside the room.

“Quiet,” Daniel whispered.

He stood in the darkness in front of the door holding a pitchfork, the last line of defense if the door failed them that night. Something pushed against the bolted door and the wood creaked from the pressure. Fingernails scraped and then a fist struck the door, the sound loud in the room. Katy woke and began to cry.

“Keep her quiet,” Daniel snapped at Tonya.

But the little girl would not be quieted and cried louder when another blow hit the door. Daniel fumbled in the dark to light a lantern and then rewound the Victrola which had quieted hours before. Something big hit the door with tremendous force, causing dust to fall from the ceiling. The door rattled in its frame but held. Tonya held her baby sister and began to whimper herself. Another hit and the door frame cracked. Daniel paced the room with his fists clenched, then climbed on a chair and looked out a vent to the outside. It was still completely dark.

“Daniel, its worse this time, they’re going to get in,” Tonya said.

“No, they won’t. They can’t,” he snapped back at her.

Another tremendous impact struck the door and the sound of cracking wood obscured the music and Katy’s cries. Jen grabbed Daniel’s shoulders.

“Is there another way out of here?” she demanded.

“We can’t leave. Those things are out there,” he answered.

Another smashing blow and the bracket holding the timber dislodged and rattled across the floor.

“There’s a way out behind there,” Tonya said.

The girl pointed at a corner of the room. Her sister’s tiny arms were wrapped tightly around her neck. Daniel went to the corner and pushed a cabinet to the side, exposing a drainage pipe underneath.

“It goes to the river. I checked it out a few months ago,” he said. “I don’t think those things like the water, they’ve have never tried to get in this way.”

Another smash against the door and the stone wall crumbled where a wood beam was attached.

“Daniel, that door will not hold much longer. We need to get out of here,” Jen said.

“Okay,” he answered.

He grabbed his lantern from the floor.

“I’ll go first.”

He shot a sad look at his makeshift fortress then climbed into the black hole of the drain pipe. Tonya followed him in and Jen handed Katy down to her. Jen climbed into the hole and tried to slide the cabinet back into place.

“Forget it, Jen,” Tonya said. “They can smell us anyway.”

C H A P T E R  T W E N T Y - F O U R

“D
oc, we really appreciate your help,” Barry said.

A group of men gathered outside the mine building loading weapons on the back of a flatbed truck. One of the men unchained a gate and swung it open.

“Watch yourself, buddy,” the man said.

Jackson stepped out of the way while the men pushed the flatbed from behind. Once up to speed, the driver popped the clutch and the truck roared to life.

“She starts every time. We make our own fuel outta the crops. It’s not too bad for drinking either,” Fred said with a wink.

The men grabbed their weapons and climbed onto the back of the truck. A trunk full of ammunition was mounted behind the cab with
Property of the U.S. Army
stenciled in white letters across the front of it. Jackson and Barry approached the back of the truck.

“You fellas better ride up here with me,” the driver said. “No telling what these boys might be shooting at back there.”

The driver’s name was Hector Sanchez, he wore a baseball cap and had a pistol tucked in a homemade shoulder holster. The truck’s windshield was splashed with mud and a CB radio hung below the dashboard with wires dangling from it. Hector pushed the clutch in and the transmission made a grinding sound when he found first gear.

“She’s a little touchy till she gets warmed up,” Hector said. “A little like my ex-wife.” He laughed heartily at his own joke.

They were both too preoccupied with finding Jen to appreciate his humor, but it didn’t stop Hector from talking. He told them he worked as a salesman for a lumber company when he got lost and trapped in Auraria several years back.

“Debajo del velo,” Hector said. “Beneath the veil, that’s what we call it here. This town, this place, has something terrible covering it, something evil.”

“What about the local people?” Barry asked. “Aren’t there any left?”

“They’re still here,” Hector answered. “But they’re not people anymore. We’re all from the outside, all trapped here. The first was Gus Johnson. He died last year at the age of ninety-four. His wife Betsey’s still with us. The two of them were on their honeymoon, heading for Atlanta, in ‘37 or ‘38. Old Betsey can tell you about it, she’s still sharp as a tack.”

“You’re telling us people have been trapped here for that long?” Jackson asked.

“Maybe, maybe longer. There could have been others we never knew about and some that didn’t last too long. You guys are lucky you found us,” Hector answered.

“We’ve got to find Jen,” Jackson said, feeling near panic at the thought of her being alone.

“We’ll do the best we can, my friend,” Hector answered as they drove further from the safety of the compound.

C H A P T E R  T W E N T Y - F I V E

M
ud squeezed through Jen’s fingers as she crawled through the dark pipe. Panic rose up in her when the tunnel narrowed, but she fought back the fear and concentrated on the light from Daniel’s lantern.

“How much further, Daniel?” Tonya asked. She was tired from crawling with her sister clinging to her back.

“Almost there,” he answered.

Jen heard a low muffled growl inside the pipe behind her. She scrambled forward and smashed into the Tonya legs.

“They’re in the pipe,” Jen whispered.

“We’re almost there,” Tonya answered.

Daniel climbed out of the pipe and dropped down to an embankment.

“Hand Katy down to me,” he said.

Tonya handed him the sobbing child.

“Hurry,” Jen shouted.

When Tonya cleared the pipe, Jen looked back and saw one of the creatures close behind her. Its right arm was paralyzed and dragged useless in the mud leaving a trail behind it. The creature lurched forward and grabbed the back of her jacket. She slipped free and then tumbled out of the pipe and onto the river bank.

“Hurry, get into the water!” Tonya called to her.

She climbed to her feet then jumped into the icy river where Daniel and Katy waited on the raft. The creature was out of the pipe, joined by a snarling woman wearing a torn flowered dress and a boy in ripped overalls with bare feet. The woman’s hair, matted and filthy, hung in clumps across her face. All three had the same vacant black eyes. Tonya climbed onto the raft and sat with her arms wrapped around her knees shivering violently. Jen waded through the chest high water, navigating past unseen rocks and sunken logs on the muddy river bottom.

“Hurry, Jen,” Daniel shouted.

Dozens of creatures appeared in the field behind the cottage, jerking silhouettes barely visible in the shadows. Jen climbed aboard the raft, while Daniel struggled to keep it in place. When she was safely aboard, he pulled the paddle from its mooring and they were swept away by the current.

C H A P T E R  T W E N T Y - S I X

O
ne of the men on the back of the truck slapped the roof of the cab.

“Hector, take a left up here.”

“Sure Jimmy,” Hector replied.

Hector turned left and slowed, avoiding broken branches scattered across the road.

“That’s Jimmy Downs,” Hector said. “He’s been here a while, crashed his plane in Potter’s field a few years back. He’s a good fella, used to be some kind of Navy pilot.”

“Where’s the plane now?” Jackson asked.

“Wrecked. Jimmy said it was a total loss with nothing worth salvaging. The other two back there are the Edwards brothers, Ralph and Bobby. They don’t look much like brothers and come to blows at least once a week. Ralph’s more level headed, but not much. Do yourselves a favor and stay down when the shooting starts,” Hector said.

“Shooting?” Barry asked.

“With Ralph and Bobby there’s always shooting. That’s how they got stuck here in the first place. They went hunting, got drunk and ended up lost in the woods south of town. Don’t get me wrong, they’re not all bad...just reckless,” Hector answered.