Port Hollow

Chapter 2 - The Getaway

Chapter 2
The Getaway

         As Rory slept, he dreamed. An iron cage floated above him, slowly surrounding him with its cold, inescapable grasp. A gently swirling mist embraced him with clammy fingers, seeping through his clothes, and obscuring his vision.
         Just beyond the vale of mist, stood his family, watching. His father was in front, holding onto a slender cane with both hands. His eyes glowed through the heavy, shifting blanket of moisture. Beside Liesl was his mother, Francine. She had one hand draped on his shoulder, steadying his stance.
         Their faces were sad and their sunken eyes peered at him through his prison. He gripped the icy bars before him as he felt tears slide down his face. He had grown a beard somehow and this made him look more like his father than ever. The strong brow balanced perfectly with a wide jaw and sculpted chin. He wept and wept as their unwavering eyes stared deep into his returning gaze.
         Rory moved his hand to wipe the tears away and found that his beard was falling off in great handfuls. The wiry hair fell to his feet and curled as if exposed to a blazing heat. When he looked up his father appeared even more weak and crippled. Liesl’s back curved hideously and his beard wilted and crumbled in turn.
         He couldn’t keep his focus on his withering parents. Rory turned around in the cage and was startled by his younger sister. She stood there, mere feet away, and reached out a soft, water-logged arm towards him.
         “Rory, help me!” She yelled his name as her mouth filled with brackish water. Black, watery mud oozed out of her eyes and ears. Her screams were replaced with the rushing water that issued from every part of her small body.
         As he reached out for her she disappeared and he grabbed onto the bars of his cage. He woke violently, wrenching himself off the couch and falling awkwardly on the floor.
         The afternoon had faded into cooler evening. The remains of an orange and red sunset cut a swath across the sky like the fiery trail of a napalm explosion. Rory held his head, waiting for the pounding to subside. Sweat slicked his forehead and wetted the hair on his brow.
         Finally he forced his eyes open and pulled himself off the floor. Ashley sat in a chair in the far corner of the living room, looking out a window. Rory thought he heard some faint noises coming through the broken plate glass, near the front of the house.
         “Ashley…what’s going on out there?” he asked in a gravelly voice. His tongue was dry and stuck to the roof of his mouth.
         “I just saw a few people go by, that’s all. It doesn’t look like anyone’s noticed the missing deputies yet.”
         “Everyone’s still occupied with...” He paused and closed his eyes. His hands slowly explored the growing stubble on his chin and over his lip. He clenched his eyes tightly, not letting his burning tears out. No longer able to hide them he covered his face completely.
         “Rory, are you alright?” Ashley got up and walked over to the couch. She sat beside his huddled form and gently placed a hand on the back of his head. Through his hands he exhaled deeply, trying to control himself.
         After a minute of silence he straightened up and rubbed his eyes clear. Ashley patiently waited for him to explain or move on and plan their next move. Either way she would wait and listen. She owed him that much for protecting her thus far.
         “My sister was eight when she drowned,” he said, diverting his eyes to the blood-stained floor. “It was my last summer at the Hollow. I was fourteen and she had just had her birthday party. She was so happy, had so many plans for the summer. Until I left for the city, I stayed with friends up North every summer. I couldn’t be here.
         “For two days no one could find her. Most of the town helped out in the search, but there were some that refused. Said they didn’t think we would find her no matter how hard we looked. It was a Tuesday when some kids ran into town, yelling they had seen something.
         “My dad was an ex-cop and still had his scanner. We found out before almost anyone else. I ran down to the pier, hoping they were wrong. When I got there the steady current of the bay was throwing her body into the pilings, then drawing it back out, then bringing it back in to slam against the pier again.
         “Her blue dress was matted against her white skin…her hair was splayed around her head like a thousand tiny tentacles, hugging the surface of the water. The firemen went out on the pier and used a pole to clear her body of the pilings and onto shore.
         “They told me not to look. I tried. I shouldn’t have looked, but she was my sister and I didn’t know.” His voice caught in his throat and he stopped to calm himself.
         “Her eyes were gone and black mud poured out of her when they turned her over. Later they said that it was unusual for mud to have gotten so far down her throat and even in her stomach.
         “I always wanted to know what happened. One day we were playing together out on the break wall and we went home for lunch. We were going to walk back out to the beach later. But she never met up with me. She was just gone.
         “No one was charged and no cause of death was firmly established. My dad felt like something was going on behind his back. Since he was a cop he knew when things weren’t happening like they should. He said the medical examiner held the body at the morgue for two hours before releasing it for burial.
         “That’s not enough time to do a thorough autopsy. Is it? I mean, she was little, but two hours isn’t enough. So my dad checked things out on his own time. He hadn’t found anything out by the time I left.
         “It’s hard to look at the place where your only sister drowned over and over. I can’t drive by the pier without going back to the day. My mind shoots back and watches the scene like a disinterested seagull, hovering on an updraft, high above it all. I wish I was that bird…”
         “I’m so sorry about your sister Rory. I bet you really loved her,” Ashley said, smoothing the damp hair over his eyes.
         “She was the only one I really loved here…until I met you.”
         “Why did you leave if you loved me Rory? I had strong feelings for you too…but you never gave us a chance. Was it because of your sister?”
         “Mostly…this place seemed haunted to me after that. I couldn’t go near the water. I still haven’t really. I found the highest, driest, safest building I could find in the city and just stayed inside almost twenty four hours a day.”
         “You didn’t even call, Rory,” she said, trying to draw eye contact.
         “I wanted to forget the Hollow. I didn’t even return my parent’s calls. My mom died and they didn’t even tell me. They knew I wouldn’t have come back.”
         “You came back for your dad though.”
         “He was the last of our family, it’s gone now. This town took them all, one way or another. My dad was the last blood relative that I know about and I wasn’t going to leave him to a beggar’s funeral. It was all I could think to do to make things right. So I come home and I found the town had turned cannibal.”
         She withdrew her hand and stood up. “I think I heard something outside Rory.”
         He looked out at the rapidly darkening sky, straining to hear any noises from beyond the shattered windows. Foot steps crackled over the dry, red leaves on the ground outside. An eerie orange glow began to ripple on the white ceiling in the living room. As the light grew in intensity, they heard the unmistakable pops and cracks of a fire.
         Ashley rushed to the windows to confirm their unspoken fears. She turned around and the color had drained from her normally tanned face.
         “They’re back,” said Rory.
         “What are we going to do?” she asked, returning to the center of the room. Rory rose from the couch and retrieved the shotgun, then the bag of weapons. Without speaking he went and looked out of the window closest to the single car garage. They weren’t too close yet. The ring of people was moving cautiously onto the yard. In every hand was a torch or a weapon. The town’s people’s faces were bunched up with anger, scowling at the house. Their eyes glittered in the menacing light of the torches.
         “We have to leave right now Ashley. We’re going to get my dad’s car and just plow through them. We can’t stay here and shoot it out with that many people.”
         She hurried over and stood behind him. Rory took a deep breath and opened the door to the garage. It was dark and smelled stale. He wondered if his father had even driven the car for the last year or two. She shuddered when he flicked the light switch and a bare bulb came flickering to life above. It cast a stark light on them, creating wicked shadows in every corner.
         Rory opened the passenger door and slid across the wide, dusty bench seat. The Ford Falcon felt good around and beneath him. It had been 13 years since he had been behind this wheel.
         “Here,” he said, handing Ashley a compact revolver. “You have to raise the door before we can get out of here. As soon as I start it up, throw the door as hard you can and jump in. Can you do that?”
         She bit her lip and glanced at the shiny gun in her hands. She nodded quickly and stood by the old wooden door. With one hand on the dry rotted handle and one hand tensely gripping the gun she looked at Rory.
         He nodded back and took the shotgun from his shoulder and placed it on the floorboards. He pulled a pistol out of the bag and positioned it in his lap so he could get to it easily. His fingers paused at the ignition key, and then rotated it slowly. The starter turned and turned. Sweat ran down his face, blurring his eyes, still he kept the engine cycling. Seconds agonizingly ticked by waiting for the engine to start.
         Just as he was about to ease off the ignition the old Falcon roared to life. The engine kicked as it turned over and Ashley lifted the door with all her strength.
         Torch light streamed into the small garage. They had heard the engine starting and ran to the only logical source for the noise. Ashley shrieked as she looked up and saw two men with machetes standing right in front of her.
         
         Fear forced her hands up and she found herself squeezing the trigger. Pop, pop, pop. The small revolver bucked in her hands. The first three shots missed the men, but the next three found their target. The man on the left looked down and saw the smoking holes in his plaid shirt. He staggered and dropped his torch to the ground.
         “Get in!” Rory yelled. She just stood there, looking down the barrel of her empty revolver. The man she had just shot was now sinking to his knees, blotting the crimson spots on his chest and neck. The blood began to flow from the worst of the shots and he crumpled.
         Her fingers quivered and she backed up a step. She wasn’t fast enough. The other man closed on her quickly. He swung his torch at her head and she found her wits in time to duck. The smoldering torch slammed into the frame of the old building spraying sparks and soot everywhere.
         Rory slid over across the vinyl seat and steadied his wrist on the door. He fired two quick shots that pierced the man’s lungs and went straight through him. The slugs thudded into the splintered wood of the frame.
         Ashley rushed over to the car door, fumbling with the chrome handle. Her fingers scrambled to depress the heavy steel handle but couldn’t do it. Other men were coming closer now. They had been forced back because of the gunfire, but their bravery was returning.
         “Get in the fucking car! They’re coming!”
         “I can’t!” she screamed, pulling desperately at the handle. Finally it clicked and the door swung outwards. She jumped in the car and pulled the door behind her. Rory hammered his foot down on the gas pedal and the Falcon lurched ahead. The tires spun when they met the loose gravel of the weed-clustered driveway. Rory gripped the wheel with all his might, hoping for traction.
         Seconds went by as the old car fishtailed in the gravel, then the tires caught and the car leaped forward. A twisted body bounced off the front quarter panel and another leaped at the car, but missed. Someone in the crowd was shooting at them now too.
         The driver’s window exploded in a flash of shattered glass and heat. Another bullet zinged past Rory’s head and buried itself deep in the back seat. They were coming fast and weren’t missing by much. He just concentrated on breaking the ring of townspeople that had formed a human barricade on his lawn.
         “Put your head down,” he told Ashley, as he lowered himself into the seat and kept the pressure on the gas. The Falcon barreled towards the human wall. Some of the people didn’t even move. The smart ones dove out of the way if they could. Bodies crunched against the car, splitting flesh and spraying blood.
         Shots still chased them, piercing the trunk and spidering the rear windshield. As the seconds passed they made it further down the street. Eventually the angry red torch light faded behind them. Even the shouts and calls of the vengeful marauders had disappeared.
         Tiny cuts zigzagged the left side of Rory’s face. The cold air hit the open wounds, burning his skin, and then slowly numbing his cheek. He looked over at Ashley. She was slumped down awkwardly in her seat. Her right arm was wrapped over her chest and clutching her left bicep tightly.
         Rory slowed the car and stopped it alongside the weeds and brambles of a wide field. The moonlight glinted off the slick, dark blood that seeped between her fingers.
         “Ashley, are you ok?” She didn’t acknowledge him, but he could see her chest rise and fall with short, shallow breaths. He reached into his bag and took the rag out and exposed her arm to the light. A tattered hole started on one side, just beneath the bicep, and exited on the other side. She was lucky; the bullet went into the seat, and not into her ribs.
         He tied several tight knots after carefully wrapping the wound. She winced in her sleep, instinctively drawing her arms in close, to a half hearted fetal position. He sat back, leaning against his door. His eyes followed the gentle curve of her chin, up to her full lips and her delicate nose to the rest of her face. She was beautiful and he realized that a part of him had always loved her. Even when he was away, he regretted the sudden departure that had hurt and confused her.
         She was trapped here in this crazy town the whole time. She watched as her entire family slipped under the control of this cult. He felt he had let everyone that he cared for down. As he watched her breasts rise and fall and her peaceful, resting face, he vowed to himself to protect without fail.
         There was nothing to do tonight but find a quiet, safe place to rest, he thought. Pulling the Falcon back onto the road he sped up until the dust stirred around them as they drove and the moon struggled to keep up.