“Wade, Wade? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, Dad, I’m still here… Look, there’s something I have to tell you—”
“Goddamn it! Not another traffic ticket!”
“No, Dad. This is good news. I’m…engaged.”
“You’re what?”
“Engaged. You know, as in getting married.”
“I know what engaged means, Wade. Engaged to who?”
Wade smiled. “The chief of police.”
“You’re telling me that you’re engaged to Chief White?”
“No, Dad. The new chief of police. Her name’s Lydia. She’s a little bitchy sometimes, but boy has she got a great ass.”
A wet washrag flew from the bathroom and slapped Wade in the face. “You’re gonna love her, Dad. Guaranteed.”
“You never cease to amaze me, son.”
“Sure, but isn’t that how it’s, supposed to be?”
Wade left his father with the expected doubts. The old ballbuster would come around in time, like just about anyone’s dad. Wade saw it as the first smart decision of his life. And with any luck it would be the first of many.
“So I’ve got a great ass, huh?” Now Lydia was brushing her beautiful white blond hair. “That’s the son to father consensus?”
“Great legs too. And hooters…” Wade whistled.
“You’re a sexist pig, but I guess I can live with it.”
Wade lounged back in the pillows. Happy ever after? he wondered. Who knew? Who ever knew? But he just had a funny feeling that this was going to work.
“Sweetheart?”
Lydia glared. “Don’t call me sweetheart. It’s so domestic.”
“Okay…honeybunch. Something just occurred to me, just now when I was on the phone with Dad.”
“What?”
“We saved the world.”
Lydia’s expression widened in the mirror. The black bomb would’ve destroyed the vital tracking systems. Right now, the labyrinth was space junk floating lost across the galaxy. It would never return to where it had come from.
“And I just thought of something else,” Wade continued his muse. “I wonder what happened to Besser?”
««—»»
On that particular night, Besser had crawled brokenly across the grove. He’d escaped the labyrinth only to find himself trapped in this thing laden morass. He choked on green fog. Horned insects drilled into his flesh; hot gourds and carcasses plump with moist rot crumpled beneath his paddling hands and knees. His leg was numb now; it dragged along behind him like a ball and chain. Things like eyeless rats the size of groundhogs bit chunks out of it as he crawled farther into the grove. The leech mouthed fog snakes swam about him en masse, biting out a piece of flesh here, a collop of fat there. Even the vegetation attacked him as he crawled on. Bulbs dipped from sagging branches, spreading jaws full of crystal teeth. Grime caked vines threatened to entangle him. Some large shivering pod burst at its tip and vomited a gush of seeds and stinking black slop into his face. Oh, Mother, he thought beneath his sobs.
One of the fog snakes tore out the seat of his pants, then more—many more—converged to take bites out of his huge buttocks. Professor Besser screamed louder than the horn on his De Ville when something unseen sunk teeth like sewing needles into one of his testicles. The entire grove was conspiring to consume him bit by bit. Just as he concluded that he could go no farther, his face rose out of the fogtop. He trundled forward, at once delirious with excitement. Who said there were no miracles? Besser had managed to crawl clear across the horrid grove, and he’d survived!
Praise heaven! he thought.
He looked at his watch: 11:55. Recharge.
The entire forest moaned. The fog churned like a lake in heavy rain. Through the trees, Besser could see the unearthly oblong box that was the labyrinth. From its corners, spears of yellow light lanced into the sky, and then billows of luminous yellow gas began to rise. The labyrinth was recharging its electromagnetic launch systems. Besser had to shield his eyes—light as intense as the sun flooded the grove. The fog was boiling like a cauldron of green stew. Besser crawled for cover. Five minutes later came a brilliant yellow flash, then darkness.
And silence.
He peered out. The labyrinth had pulsed off, on its way to its next world. At once the grove and its unholy inhabitants began to blacken and die.
Besser limped into the outer clearing, using a sturdy branch as a crutch. He had time now to put his life back together, but the first thing he had to do was get to a hospital.
The second thing was to find Wade St. John and kill him.
He crutched clumsily toward the logging road which led to Route 13. That’s when he noticed the hole. When he bent over to take a closer look, two flabby hands reached up and grabbed onto his head.
««—»»
Penelope couldn’t have been more pleased. What a nice surprise to have a visitor! She pulled Besser down, down, down into her hole. She’d actually gotten to like it down here. So many days and nights of hard work—throwing out dirt and packing the walls smooth and tight—had enabled her to prepare quite an impressive little underground home. There was plenty of room for her to move around. She could lounge back, stretch, flop about—all at her leisure. What more could a boneless girl ask for? It was cozy and snug, and she was proud of it.
The appearance of her old biology professor couldn’t have been better timed. Slobbering, she shrieked her enthusiasm, wrapping boneless arms around his neck. She had a hard time squeezing him through—he was so fat—but her new and inspired strength eventually jerked him all the way into the earthen cavern.
Besser screamed and screamed and screamed while Penelope made blubbering giggles. Much like pulling tomatoes off a vine, she twisted his testicles off and crushed them to pulp in her hands. She reasoned that Besser was to blame for the death of her first baby—he’d allowed that awful sister to eat it—so she equally reasoned that it was his obligation to give her a new baby. She cooed as she scraped the sperm laden pulp off her hands into her amorphous sex.
Besser was still screaming, for reasons most would deem legitimate. Penelope used a broken Kirin bottle to open him up, parting shanks of flab as easily as new churned butter, and she cut very deep indeed. Deeper, deeper, and down, the sharp glass sliced into squirming fat to unveil the succulent organs of his great tremoring gut.
True, the sisters had removed her bones, but Penelope still had her teeth, thank God, and after all her labors down here, she had worked up a considerable appetite.
THE END
Edward Lee (seen here with his new electronic cigarette) has had more than 40 books published in the horror and suspense field, including CITY INFERNAL, THE GOLEM, and BLACK TRAIN. His movie, HEADER was released on DVD by Synapse Films, in June, 2009. Recent releases include the stories, “You Are My Everything” and “The Cyesologniac,” the Lovecraftian novella “Trolley No. 1852,” and the hardcore novel HAUNTER OF THE THRESHOLD. Currently, Lee is working on HEADER 3. Lee lives on Florida’s St. Pete Beach. Visit him online at:
http://www.edwardleeonline.com