Don't Fear The Reaper (3 page)

Transfixed, Roland stood shaking, as though standing atop seismic ground.
As the glowing fog coiled and drifted away into the night and poured down the
valley illuminating the night, it was then he realised he had gone blind.  

NADINE MORETZ
,
(formally Nadine Perkins), consulted the clock above the fireplace and placed a
bookmark in her John Saul novel. 8:3pm was an ideal time to call her brother.
She had chosen the old dialling phone where you had to put your finger in the
circle of the number and rotate the dial, unlike these modern phones where you
needed eyes like a shithouse rat to see what you were doing. On the sixth ring
Nadine got an answer.

‘Hello?’ a male voice managed, out of breath.

‘Anthony,’ she said. ‘It’s me, Nadine. Are you all right?’

‘What? Oh, yeah. Just got in from this evening’s sermon. How’re you? Haven’t
heard from you in a while. I’ve been meaning to call you, but I’ve just been a
bit busy.’

‘I’m fine,’ Nadine said, smiling to herself. ‘I’ve got some big news and
something I’d like to ask you.’

‘Oh, I’m intrigued.’

Anthony’s breath had resumed to normal respiration again.

‘Ready?’

‘Fire at will,’ Anthony said, laughing.

‘I’m pregnant!’

A short pause followed. Then: ‘That’s amazing!’

‘I’m almost three months,’ Nadine went on. ‘I knew a couple of weeks ago,
but as Larry and I were told previously we weren’t able…’

‘Yeah, I know, sis. You just wanted to be certain. How’re you feeling? Is
it going okay so far?’

‘Yeah, I’ve had some scans, but it’s only now am I starting to feel the
effects. Bit worn down, that kinda thing.’

‘I’m so pleased for you, Nad. I know how Mum said that you’d be a good
mother.’

Nadine suppressed her tears. ‘Just wish she…’

‘Who’s to say she’s not,’ Anthony said. ‘Anyway, you said you wanted to
ask me something?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ Nadine almost let it slip her mind seconds after she’d brought
it up. ‘Larry and I would be delighted if you’d be godfather to our baby, touch
wood it all goes smoothly.’

‘Sis, I’d be absolutely honoured. And stop thinking negative thoughts.
You’ve got to be positive for both you and the little one, right?’

Nadine laughed. ‘Right!’

They chatted for a couple of minutes longer. Then said their obligatory
goodbyes and best wishes and ended the conversation. Nadine nodded to herself
reassuringly, feeling better having spoken to her brother and telling him the
news. She concurred with his prudent advice. Although there was only two years
difference between them in age, Anthony had the wisdom of an old, wise man. At
times Nadine felt like she was talking to an old man trapped inside a body of
someone forty years his junior. However, at times like these when she thought
the worse Anthony was who she got the most comfort from. Even though he was a
reverend he didn’t preach about God in every analogy or topic, he merely gave
good sound advice and above all was a good listener.

Nadine returned the receiver to its cradle and looked out the picture
window. What she saw made her heave herself out of her armchair and take a
closer look.

Outside swirls of fog rolled together, becoming denser and denser. The
fog billowed as thick as a blanket being laid over the earth. Yet that wasn’t
all, in the midst of the fog – not forecasted as far as she could recall – was
a luminous greenish light pulsating like that of a beating heart. It was
mysteriousness and gave the fog a sense of foreboding. It continued inexorably
to ascend the horizon and cloud out the remaining daylight.

The fog’s just reflecting the sunlight, that’s all
, she insisted.
And although that was the thought belonging to a rational mind, Nadine couldn’t
convince herself it was the truth.

*

Larry
Moretz was sitting at the bar in The Crown Pub, nursing the last of his pint.
His friend Pierce entered the pub in a hurry. The bartender, Alex, snapped his
head over his shoulder to see who it was and relaxed when he saw one of his
regulars.

Seeing his friend standing in the small foyer, Larry noticed something
was amiss. Pierce looked disorientated. He shuffled forward, head down, staring
aimlessly at the polished oak floor.

‘What’s up, my man?’ Larry asked.

Pierce didn’t answer immediately. Instead he mounted the stool next to
Larry and leaned forward on the mahogany bar gleaming under the spotlights.
‘How long you been here?’ he asked without preamble.

‘Forty-five minutes,’ Larry said, consulting his wristwatch. ‘I thought
you’d be here sooner.’ He paused waiting to see if Pierce would snap out of his
reverie and return to his usual self. But this didn’t look as though it would
be happening any time this year. ‘What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen
a ghost.’

‘Outside…’ Pierce muttered so only Larry could hear. ‘Outside…’

Frowning, Larry said, ‘What’s outside?’

‘The fog,’ Pierce said, matter-of-factly.

‘Oh, is it? Can’t recall them forecasting any when I saw the weather this
morning. Having said that mind, what with all these satellites and different
channels one channel tells you one thing, the other forecasts something else.’
With that Larry regarded the nearest window and noticed how it appeared
clouded, but then it always looked like that. ‘Is it bad?’

Pierce faced him without expression. ‘That’s no ordinary fog I’ve ever
seen…,’ he said. His voice fell away and darkened the warm, genial ambience of
the local pub. ‘There’s something in the fog. Something…
not right
.’

Seconds ago Larry’s lips and mouth were moist from sipping his pint; now
his mouth was as dry as sandpaper. He’d known Pierce for fifteen years.
Pierce’s idea of a joke was to discuss recent topics around the globe and put a
funny twist on it, similar to that of a stand-up comedian. Some of the regulars
likened him to the comedian and Hollywood actor, Robin Williams. Pierce didn’t
do wind-ups or pranks or attempt to fool someone, especially his best friend.
Also, he did genuinely appear to be shaken.

It was this reason and this alone that made Larry dismount his stool and
cross the pub to the entrance door and take a look himself.

‘Fuck me,’ he gasped.

In front of him the main road had vanished and had been replaced by this
impenetrable veil. And as his eyes adjusted to the blanket he noticed that
there was a luminous green tint pulsing, throbbing and pushing the roiling fog
onwards.

Larry hadn’t disbelieved Pierce for a second, but he didn’t expect the
fog to have covered the whole land and leave not a trace behind.

How could the weather reports have missed this?
he wondered,
gaping at the absolute fog.

He retreated back inside the foyer letting the door close on its hinges,
preventing the dense swirls from entering the pub. His first thought was if
Sammy was all right. Pivoting, he ambled back into the pub and rested a
reassuring hand on Pierce’s shoulder. Pierce recoiled then relaxed, seeing him.

‘Now you know what I mean,’ Pierce said in a faraway voice.

Dazed by bewilderment and trepidation, Larry nodded.

Alex had averted his attention from the TV and came over to see his two
regular customers. ‘What’s this about a fog?’

Pierce repeated what he’d told Larry, but chose not to add that there was
something not right about it.

Alex glanced at Larry. ‘It’s really bad, is it?’

‘I couldn’t see five feet in front of me,’ Larry said. ‘I’m just gonna
give Sammy a call. I’ll be right back.’

Alex watched Larry cross the floor to the men’s toilets. Then he took a
pint glass down off the shelf overhead and poured Pierce a drink without
asking. The expression masking his friend’s face informed him he needed one;
even it was on the house.

Larry entered the cubicle, put the toilet seat down and lowered himself
while turning his mobile on and waiting for it to take him to the main screen.
He selected his home phone number and hit the dial button, then waited.

The call was answered almost instantly.

‘Sammy?’

‘Larry?’

‘Yeah. Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine, thanks. Are you still down the Crown?’

‘Yeah. Have you seen the fog?’

‘Yeah. You can hardly see anything else. Don’t drive home. Leave it half
an hour and then take your time and make sure to put your headlights and fog
lights on.’

Normally Larry would have laughed at her fretting, but not tonight.  He
shared her dread and thought the same thing. He assured her he would do just
that, then hung up.

When he returned to the bar, the two men playing darts and three old men,
watching a re-run of Joe Calzaghe destroying Jeff Lacey, were
nose-to-windowpane, gaping at the fog shrouding everything in sight. There was
none of the boisterous chatter that usually went on when something big had
happened. No, all the men’s faces expressed the emotions Larry felt.

The window next to the TV where the old timers sat was a plain window
with no frosted or cloudy glass. They’d peeled open the velvet drapes and had
the most explicit view. Pierce, the other two younger men and Alex moved away
from their vantage points and joined the old timers with Larry.

‘Seen some fog in my time at sea,’ one of the old timers said to no one
in particular, ‘but not like this. This is like all the fogs over the last few
years rolled into one. And what the hell is that beacon in the middle of it?’

‘That’s what I was telling Larry about,’ Pierce said. ‘It seems to be the
source of the fog. But that can’t be either. This is either someone’s doing to
create this realistic fog to mess with the locals’ minds or it’s…’ He trailed
off, afraid of the next words he almost uttered.

‘Or it’s… what?’ another elderly gentleman said. His eyes shone in his
sagging face. The nervousness in his voice quivered his jowls.

‘Or it’s… something that can only be described as supernatural,’ Pierce
finished, albeit reluctantly. Then he waited for a chorus of raucous laughter.

Silence ensued. It was then that Pierce wished for the laughter at his
naivety. The years of ribbing that would inflict him thereafter was nothing to
the icy fingers that snaked around his jackhammer heart.

Had it been an ordinary fog Alex would have ordered everyone away from
the windows, but this was something else.
Something that can only be
described as supernatural,
as Pierce had said.

Larry was the first to turn away. As soon as he did, the others blinked
away their fascination. His lungs felt constricted. The anxiety in the room was
like an out of control wavelength. The oxygen seemingly dissipated. Yet Larry
knew the effect was caused by his emotions doing their utmost to get the better
of him.

‘Can I get an orange juice, Alex?’ he said, breaking the uncomfortable
silence.

Alex and the others turned away from the window simultaneously. Larry
didn’t know what to make of their stares as they had no expression. He didn’t
care for the orange juice he’d asked for but if he was staying for a little
while longer he might as well behave as normal. It was all right for Alex, he
lived in the flat above the pub. Larry, Pierce and the three elderly men whose
eyesight wasn’t exactly brilliant at the best of times would have to venture
outside at some point.

‘Yeah sure, mate,’ Alex said, crossing the floor and going behind the
bar.

Larry resumed his position on the stool and stared despondently at the
glossy surface he leaned on.

‘What’s wrong?’ Alex said, sliding the full glass of orange juice towards
him.

Larry gave him a distasteful look.

‘Well, apart from the fog,’ Alex added, blushing.

‘The fog’s not gonna lift in half an hour, and I need to get back to
Sammy.’

‘You’re all welcome to stay the night if this fog hasn’t cleared,’ Alex
said aloud so everyone in the pub could hear him. ‘Just call her and tell her
you’re staying here the night. She’ll be cool.’

Larry shook his head, refusing the offer.

Pierce came over, pale and sweating. ‘I’ll have a Scotch. Numb my
nerves.’

Alex nodded approval.

‘If the fog doesn’t clear, Alex mate, I’ll take you up on that offer. So
will the old farts.’

Under ordinary circumstances, Alex would have laughed at the “old farts”
comment. Tonight he simply nodded. ‘Tell this stubborn bugger to do the same,
will you?’ he said, gesturing to Larry.

Larry told Pierce the reason behind his refusal. Then he shook his head adamantly
when Pierce said the same as Alex.

‘Why?’

‘Well, that’s why I called you and arranged to meet you tonight,’ Larry
said. ‘Sammy’s pregnant.’

Pierce’s lips were on the verge of curling up at the sides when the
motion halted and a noncommittal look replaced it. ‘I thought you s…’

‘That’s why we waited until the first scan, and the first tangible signs
to prove there was no doubt. Baby’s due, God-willing around Christmas and New
Year.’

Pierce smiled broadly then. His eyes lit up and the crows’ feet spread
out from around the corners. He leaned over and embraced Larry, clapping him on
the back. ‘That’s bloody marvellous,’ he said, breaking contact. ‘But I still
don’t get why you can’t stay here. I mean the fog and everything…’

‘She’s on pins and needles. Worried that after all the years of being
unsuccessful, something might go wrong. And with good reason, considering what
the gynaecologist told her. She’s delighted, don’t get me wrong, but she’s
really worrying over the tiniest of things. She sounded nervous on the phone
just now. I’m gonna give it half an hour then make my way home.’

Pierce rubbed his chin, contemplating what his best friend told him. ‘How
many you had?’

‘One.’

‘You just make sure you put your fog lights, headlights on full beam and
drive at a snail’s pace. No use getting yourself in an accident.’

*

Twenty
minutes later one of the elderly men announced, ‘Fog seems to be easing off.
Not much, but a bit.’