The Revenants Read online

  “Naw, that’s just an old trailer park,” he finally said. “When I was a kid the place actually used to be a pretty nice. Now it’s more of dump than anything else.”

  The wind picked up even more, and now, instead of gusts, it was a steady wind shear from the west, almost as if it were buffeting them back on purpose. He checked the speedometer and saw that even though he hadn’t lifted his boot from the accelerator in the slightest, they were actually losing speed.

  (Hhmmm… now isn’t this an interesting development? What? You’re not still cross about that whole coyote incident, are you? Look, I checked my notes. The big guy was supposed to die. I am as surprised as you are.)

  Becca screamed.

  Big Leonard reflexively ducked and hit at the brakes at the same time a large sheet of metal roofing, most likely from the crappy trailer park that used to be nice, whipped past the windshield and narrowly missed them.

  “It’s like a tornado,” Becca breathed.

  “More like a hurricane,” Big Leonard shot back. There was no way they were going through that. Any closer and they’d get blown off the road for sure. He reduced speed, and using both lanes, started turning the big ambulance around.

  “What are you doing?” Becca asked.

  He shifted in reverse because he had to back up to complete the turn without going off the road. “What do you mean what am I doing, what’s it look like I’m doing? I’m turning our butts around. We can’t go through that.”

  He could see her frantically working something out. It was almost as though she was more scared of going back the way they had come than driving through a full-on hurricane.

  “Shouldn’t we find shelter or something? Take cover in a ditch?”

  Big Leonard put the truck in drive but didn’t step on the gas, at least not yet. He had enough explaining to do with his apprentice Jimbo getting eaten by coyotes, plus cutting and abandoning a fully energized power line so he could escape a pack of rabid coyotes. He didn’t want to add kidnapping to that laundry list.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but to drive into a storm like that would be suicide. If we turn around, and if we’re lucky, I think we can outrun it.” He waited for an answer but she didn’t give him one.

  The storm did though.

  Everyone felt it and the teenager in the back started an earsplitting scream when it did. For only a moment, the back wheels of the truck slid across the pavement as though some giant hand had pushed it; which was stupid, of course, because the ambulance weighed over a ton.

  Big Leonard needed no further urging. He mashed his giant boot on the accelerator and before the storm could grab them any further the ambulance took off. As they drove back the way they had come, debris from the trailer park slammed into the back of them like anti-aircraft fire. Even Clark Kent’s former phone booth took a shot at them and bounced off Becca’s side door.

  But Big Leonard had been through worse. Well, that wasn’t entirely true now, was it? No. In fact, it was a downright lie. Never in his life had he ever been in a storm like this. But he did have his share, and Lord willing, he’d weather this one, too. Hah, pun intended. Maybe he had a future as a writer after all.

  “Oh my God,” Becca said, staring into the side mirror. “The power lines!”

  He checked his own side mirror and sure enough, the power lines were toppling over in sequence, the wires showering sparks on the road, the transformers exploding like bombshells.

  “It’s like they’re chasing us!” Becca cried from the passenger seat. Banging on the dash she yelled, “Go faster,”

  “This ain’t exactly a Corvette. I’m pushing ninety now!” But he risked a quick look in the rearview. Slowly at first, they were leaving the falling poles behind.

  When they hit a pothole the size of a crater on the moon, the wheel jerked out of his hands. Becca let out a curse as she slammed against her seatbelt and her hand went reflexively to her back, as though checking to make sure it was still there.

  Big Leonard wasn’t about to lose control now, not after everything they had been through. He quickly grabbed the steering wheel again while simultaneously easing off the gas. He nearly overcorrected to the right and slid off the road, and then the same thing on the left side, but eventually he got the bucking ambulance back under control. He let out a calming purposeful breath, checked the rearview mirror one last time, and dropped down to a steady and safe seventy.

  “What are you doing?” Becca cried. “You want it to catch us?”

  Big Leonard wasn’t sure what ‘IT’ was, but answered, “If I go any faster we’re going to lose control and end up in a ditch.” He checked the mirror again. “But I think we lost… IT.”

  Eyes wild, she nodded brusquely.

  After another ten minutes he felt fairly confident they’d outrun the worst of it. The winds were still gusting at about thirty mph but a far cry from what they had left behind. And after another twenty minutes even that crazy moon came back out as if to ask, ‘Is it safe to come out now?’

  “So, what do we do now?”

  Big Leonard saw lights in the distance that looked like a cruise ship sailing over a dark ocean.

  “I think there’s some kind of motel up ahead. We can stop there, maybe call for help.”

  The girl, Becca, swallowed heavily. “You mean the Paradise Motel?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. I think they got a gas station, too.”

  “We can’t stop there,” the girl said evenly.

  “Whaddya mean we can’t stop there?” He checked the gas gauge. They had over three-quarters of a tank but that wouldn’t get them all the way to Sioux Falls. “Listen lady, I’m not sure where you’re from, but out here in the Dakota Badlands we don’t exactly have a lot of options.”

  He glanced over at her and saw the girl was bracing herself in the seat again, like she was ready to crash at any moment. She’s not a girl, his wife would say, she’s a full grown woman, Leonard, and by the looks of her, she’s downright terrified.

  When the girl--woman, damn it--finally managed to talk all she could say was, “Trust me. Not there. Anywhere but there.”

  Chapter 16

  Welcome to the Paradise Motel

  As far as Big Leonard was concerned they were saved.

  They weren’t going to get blown off the road and stuck in a ditch somewhere where they would either freeze to death or get eaten by some form of rabid South Dakotan wildlife that seemed rampant as of late.

  The motel lights in the distance had become the motel lights by the side of the road. A neon sign, rare for these parts and dripping crimson, read PARADISE LOST MOTEL. Cozy enough. So why hadn’t he pulled in yet? Why were they just sitting out here in the middle of the highway with the engine idling?

  The motel parking lot was certainly big enough to accommodate them. Heck, it was big enough to accommodate at least a dozen vehicles but he didn’t see nary a one.

  This is stupid, I’m pulling in.

  “What are you doing?” Becca asked beside him, putting her hand on his elbow and stopping him from turning into the parking lot.

  “I’ve got to call the cops,” he explained. “Jimbo… er, my apprentice, the dude I worked with.” He sighed, gathered his thoughts for a moment and then said, “Those coyotes back there ate my co-worker. I’ve got to call the police and at least let them know what happened.”

  “Yeah, I get that, but why here?”

  The girl, Becca, was still scared; downright frightened, in fact, even more than when those coyotes had gone all Cujo on them.

  He studied the parking lot again. He was about to say something but then… a sort of sense of foreboding overcame him too. On some level of consciousness he knew that if he pulled into that parking lot he’d never leave again; which was stupid of course. Then again, that’s exactly what he’d thought about the coyote on the back of his truck… ‘stupid of course’. Man, I have got to stop saying that.

  He heard the fireman tell Becca, “Ma’am, you can d
ouble check the map I keep in the glove compartment if you like, but I’m pretty sure the next town isn’t for another…

  “Two hundred and three miles, Sioux Falls,” she said, finishing for him. Or maybe she had finished it for herself. There was such a tone of defeat to her voice, as though she had resigned herself to her fate.

  But what else could they do? Pressing on without enough gas or going back into that storm wasn’t an option. It was suicide. And they sure as heck couldn’t stay here in the truck forever.

  Big Leonard glanced over toward the motel again. In the snowstorm the lighted windows looked like a ship in the middle of a hurricane. He looked back at Becca and shrugged. “At least the lights are on inside.”

  Becca rubbed her forearm across her forehead as if she were exhausted. “Please don’t ask me why, because I really, really don’t want to explain it. I just don’t think we should stop here. Anywhere but here.”

  Before he could answer the dashboard let out a loud chime accompanied by a bright red light in the shape of a small engine. That settled it. It wasn’t up to him anymore. With a check engine light they might not make it another five miles, let alone the two-hundred plus miles to Sioux Falls.

  We’re out of options, he thought to himself. Or are we?

  Just before the motel, on the same side of the road, Big Leonard could see a brightly lit gas station.

  “Alright, how about this, we just go the gas station over yonder? Get some more fuel, check the engine, and call the cops from there?”

  “Don’t bother.” This time it was the cheerleader sticking her head out of the hatch between the seats. “We already tried that. Their phone doesn’t work. Like I said last time, we need to try the motel.”

  Judging by her face this did not seem to sit well with Becca. He leaned forward and saw she was staring out the window with her chin on her fist, now more than ever, looking like a woman resigned to her fate.

  Seeing no other options before him, he put the ambulance back in drive, left the highway and pulled into the motel parking lot.

  As he did, what bothered him most was the dozen or so empty tractor-trailer slips along the East side of the parking lot. Even this time of year, out of tourist season, half-a-dozen of those spots should have been filled with the long haul truckers tucked in safely for the night. Everyone knew that in the winter this was the only stop between Rapids City and Sioux Falls. If you didn’t stop here and at least get gas, you were walking the rest of the way to the next town.

  Everybody knew that. The truckers, the locals, and even if the tourists didn’t know it there were big signs in both directions that read…

  NEXT GAS STATION 203 MILES!

  Reluctantly he cruised into one of the many empty parking spaces out in front of the motel lobby. He then checked around one last time for anything out of the ordinary and put the ambulance in park.

  The wind seemed to be gaining in strength with each passing second.

  Like a bear clutching a life buoy off the Titanic Big Leonard curled his forearms around the steering wheel and gazed out the windshield.

  Eyebrows raised, he asked no one in particular, “Where the hell is everybody?”

  (Good question, that. We could really use some deep dark intro-spec-tion here from Big Leonard, don’t you think?)

  (No?)

  (Get on with it?)

  (Okie-dokie. You’re the boss.)

  (For now)

  (See, that’s the whole point. This is all about MMMPPPFFF-MMPHHRFFF)

  (I’m not sure why there is an R in that last muffled scream either)

  (Eh. The editor missed it. So let’s run with it)

  Editor’s Note: I most assuredly did not miss any…

  BLAM!

  (We may hive a fw grammatical errors from here on out)

  Chapter 17

  “Let’s All go to the Lobby… Let’s all go to the… Lobby.”

  The Paradise Lost Motel had to have been built in the seventies, with its carport separating the exterior parking lot from the interior one.

  Where most South Dakotan motels went for a rustic Lincoln Log lodge feel, the Paradise Lost Motel’s planked walls made it look like every other cheap motel that had sprung up on every major arterial in North America back in the seventies.

  The layout of the buildings was like a giant horseshoe, with the open end facing the highway. A carport separated the exterior parking lot from the interior one. The motel lobby was at one head of the horseshoe, with the Paradise Lounge at the other. A two-story bunkhouse building lay at the back, which was probably where the majority of the rooms were located.

  First the four of them walked past the rectangular building with neon lettering that read, Paradise Lounge. Becca shuddered involuntarily but since she was last in line, no one had seen her do it. They then sojourned across the parking lot past the darkened carport.

  Peyton, on a mission to get her way, was the first in line, and had proceeded straight to the lobby.

  As Big Leonard and Wally approached the doors Becca noted Wally seemed sort of out of it, less sure of himself, not the same man that had pulled her out of her Rover or the Leaning Tower of Death. He seemed to be walking around in a daze. In fact, it almost sounded like he was singing like a man in shock.

  “Let’s all go to the… lobby. Let’s all go to the… lobby.”

  Hearing this Peyton cocked her head to the side, then turned her head and asked the fireman irritably, “What are you doing?”

  Wally obviously hadn’t even realized he was singing that stupid commercial they used to play before movies (you know the one, with the dancing popcorn, candy bars, and soda). Not wanting to get her all riled up again he offered, “Sorry, sometimes I sing or make jokes when I get nervous.”

  Peyton shook her head.

  “Are you sure that was singing?” Big Leonard asked him, a wry smile on his face.

  “Ha, ha,” Wally replied back.

  Becca was glad there was someone else around who had a sense of humor, even under the most dire of circumstances. It had always been a coping mechanism for her, too. Back when he was alive, Mike had never learned to appreciate that particular character trait.

  Peyton was the first one to touch down at the lobby doors. (Because that was what it was like crossing the parking lot--a barren, windblown landscape comparable to the surface of the moon.) The cheerleader pulled on both doors but once she realized it was locked Peyton began to bang on the glass with the palms of her hands. “Hey! Anybody home? We need some help here!” When that didn’t work, she cupped her hands over her eyes and pressed them against the glass and peered inside.

  Before Becca’s brain could stop them, the words spilled out of her mouth, “See, I told you, it’s locked.”

  Peyton spun around on her heel, stared at her venomously, but said nothing.

  Big Leonard leaned over and whispered into Becca’s ear, while nodding toward Peyton. “That one is a pistol to be sure.”

  (You might want to remember that. I know it doesn’t seem important now…)

  Becca agreed, at least inwardly anyway. The reality was they were all scared out of their minds, and Peyton’s coping mechanism was obviously ripping off anyone’s head who crossed her path.

  Becca held Peyton’s gaze for a moment longer before the wind picked up in intensity (as though the cheerleader had summoned it), forcing Becca to hold onto the brim of her cap. They all waited a few moments for the colossal wind gust to pass, only the steaming Peyton seemed unaffected. There was no doubt about it; the storm Big Leonard had feared was nearly here. They didn’t have a lot of time.

  “What are we going to do?” Peyton asked, holding her shoulders for warmth. “There’s nobody inside.”

  Becca climbed the short flight of steps leading to the main entrance and gazed inside. Peyton was right about one thing, if anybody had been here this evening, they were gone now. Further, whoever had left the lobby at least had time to turn around and lock it. Or had they lock
ed it from within? Through the glass panes she could see the deadbolt switch on the inside.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Becca noted Peyton jumped slightly when she smashed the glass with the butt of her pistol. She made especially certain to keep her fingers out of the trigger guard when she did so. She then smashed out a few smaller shards that looked like teeth ready to chomp down on anyone stupid enough to put their wrist through the jagged hole. Becca then holstered her pistol, carefully reached inside, and began fiddling with the deadbolt.

  As she did this, Wally stepped up beside her, and in almost a dream-like state asked, “So what, we are breaking and entering now?”

  Becca answered, “That’s actually not a crime, you know.”

  “What?” the firefighter asked drunkenly. What’s wrong with him anyway? Becca wondered.

  “They only call it that in movies,” she explained. “Breaking and entering,” she continued to fiddle with the lock, “is actually the crime called burglary, or if you don’t actually steal anything but just break stuff, it’s simply called vandalism.”

  “What are you, a cop?” Peyton asked. “I thought you were like a dog walker or something?”

  Becca continued to fumble with the locking mechanism without slitting her wrist and with a hint of sadness to her voice she responded, “Something like that. But not anymore.”

  Not really seeming to hear her Peyton said, “Well, when this is all over, they can bill my parents; I don’t care. If that storm is as bad as Mr. Leonard says, and with those crazy ravens and coyotes running around, I don’t want to be caught out here in the open.”

  Becca wanted to express how the motel was infinitely worse, but before she could find the words Big Leonard said, “For now, let’s just stick to the plan, okay? We go inside, see if anybody’s home. If not, we call the cops from a landline.”

  Becca gave the big man a feeble nod and that’s when it occurred to her. What had she seen that had made her so terrified of the motel? It wasn’t the coyotes, the ravens, or even the crazy fireman that had scared her so bad. So what was it?