The Conqueror Worms Page 6

  Last I’d heard from them was when Dave called to check on me about two days before the National Guard showed up. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed them until now.

  Carl put the truck in park and left the engine running. The wipers squeaked on the windshield. “You reckon they’re still at home?”

  “I doubt it. They probably evacuated just like everybody else. More likely that a strong gust of wind just blew the door open.”

  “Dave would have locked that deadbolt tight before they left. I can’t see the wind undoing the lock.”

  I considered this. “Then maybe it was looters or someone looking for valuables that got left behind after everybody evacuated.”

  Carl nodded. “Or maybe it was Earl.”

  “Well, one thing’s for sure.” I reached for the door handle.

  “What’s that?”

  “We’re not gonna find out by sitting here.” I opened the passenger door and stepped out into the rain. Cold drops pelted my face, blinding me for a moment, until I wiped them away.

  Carl grabbed his 30.06 from the rifle rack behind the seat, worked the bolt, made sure it was loaded, and then followed along behind me. I wished I’d brought a gun along, too. Even a handgun would have been comforting. A pistol is primarily a weapon that buys youtime to get back to the rifle you should have been carrying in the first place, but both of them will make a man dead. And both provided comfort in times like this.

  Mud had replaced the grass in Dave and Nancy’s front yard. Our boots sunk into the muck, making loud squishing noises. Carl got stuck halfway to the house, and when he tried to pull free, his foot came out of his boot. His sock was dirty and soaked by the time he got his foot back inside.

  I crept up the porch, carefully taking the wet steps one at a time so I wouldn’t slip and fall. Last thing I needed right then was a broken hip. I also didn’t want to give away our presence, just in case there actually was somebody still in the house.

  Carl clomped along behind me seconds later, shattering the silence I’d worked so hard to maintain. I shot him a dirty look and then peeked inside the home.

  My heart stopped. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t swallow. Goose bumps prickled my neck and arms and my fingers grew numb. There was an awful, empty feeling in my stomach.

  “Good Lord…”

  Carl pressed against me, craning his neck to see over my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  I walked into the living room and stepped aside. When I did, Carl gasped, and the rifle shook in his hands.

  The house, or at least the parts we could see, had been destroyed. The sofa was tipped over, the cushions shredded and leaking their stuffing. The television stand and the bookshelves had collapsed and piles of movies and paperbacks lay in scattered heaps across the floor. All of it was drenched. The coat rack and the antique coffee table were in splinters.

  Everything was covered in a thick coat of pale, white slime, and the air stank of that same peculiar fishy smell. Shuddering, I tried breathing through my mouth, but I could still taste it—the stench was that thick. It was like trying to breathe sardines.

  “What happened in here?” Carl asked.

  I shook my head, then called out for Dave and Nancy. The only answer was the hiss of the rain.

  We walked across the living room, broken glass crunching beneath our boots. I entered the dining room. The table had fared even worse than the furniture in the living room, and the hutch had been knocked over, shattering the glassware and dinnerware inside. More slime covered everything. I gagged at the stench.

  Carl prodded a pool of the stuff with the barrel of his rifle. It slowly dripped off the blue steel.

  “What is this stuff, Teddy?”

  “I don’t know. It looks and smells like the stuff we found in that hole back at the house. But that don’t tell us much.”

  “Could it be some kind of toxic waste?”

  I shrugged. “If so, where would it have come from? No, I reckon this is something else.”

  He grabbed a dishrag from the sink and wiped the barrel. “You think Dave and Nancy are all right?”

  I spotted something splattered across one kitchen wall.

  “No.” I pointed. “I don’t think they are.”

  A splash of red covered the eggshell-white plaster at waist level. I knew what it was, but my own morbid curiosity got the best of me, and I drew closer to make sure. Blood. My knees popped as I knelt down and examined the floor. Nancy’s wedding ring sparkled in the dim light. It too was covered in blood.

  “That’s Nancy’s isn’t it?” Carl asked me, and for a moment I wasn’t sure if he was asking about the ring or the blood. But I guess they both were.

  “Yeah,” I whispered, “I think it is.”

  “What do we do now?”

  I stood up. “Let’s get out of here. There’s really nothing we can do.”

  “But they might be hurt. Nancy could still be around here somewhere. All that blood…”

  “It’s dried. Been here for a while, by the looks of things. And see how wet the living room floor is, from all the rain blowing in? Mold is growing on the walls. The house has been wide open for some time.”

  Carl frowned. “That still don’t tell us what happened here.”

  “I don’t know. But it looks like they ignored the evacuation order and stayed behind.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “Dave would have never left his truck behind. You know how much he loved that Chevy. So that tells me that they were here after the National Guard evacuated everybody, at least. But something’s happened since then. Whatever it was, it doesn’t look good.”

  “Could Earl have done this? Or scavengers? Maybe those no good Perry kids?”

  “I reckon anything’s possible.” But deep down, I didn’t believe any of those things had happened. A roving band of looters didn’t leave behind a trail of slime. Neither did the Perry kids, or even Earl Harper. The Perry kids did things like blow up mailboxes with M-80s and catch sunfish at the pond and then put them in your swimming pool. This was beyond them. And Earl…well, much as I disliked the man, I couldn’t see him doing this. The ransacking of the home was pointless and shocking. Not even Earl Harper would have gone that far.

  We searched the rest of the house, but it was more of the same. Every room was destroyed and covered with trails of slime, like a herd of giant snails had slithered over it. There was no sign of Dave or Nancy, nor was there any more blood.

  I thought about my dwindling supplies back at the house, found a cardboard box in the closet, and loaded it up with canned goods from Nancy’s pantry: applesauce, green beans, corn, peas, peaches, tomatoes, pickles, relish, squash, beets, and deer meat (I’d never much cared for the taste of canned venison, but at this point, beggars couldn’t be choosers). She’d canned them all herself, as most folks in these parts did. I also took some dried goods that hadn’t been opened, a couple boxes of wooden matches, a few dog-eared paperbacks, and a six-pack of bottled spring water. There was plenty of fresh water falling from the sky, but I didn’t relish the thought of drinking it just yet.

  Carl found the key to Dave’s gun cabinet and took a box of 30.06 shells. I searched for some tobacco—cigarettes, cigars, chew—it didn’t matter what, or a pack of that gum for people who want to quit smoking, but the house was nicotine free, and I gave up in frustration, cursing a blue streak.

  I fished out my wallet and left some crumpled bills on the kitchen counter, along with a note explaining what we’d taken, but I didn’t really expect that Dave or Nancy would ever return to find it.

  My eyes kept coming back to that stark splash of blood.

  We closed the door behind us as we left. Then we plodded back to the truck, climbed in, wiped the water from our faces, and continued on our way.

  The dirt lane leading to Earl’s shanty was a river of mud. Carl decided not to chance it. Instead, we parked the truck and got out. Barbed wire indicated the property line. An old, weather-b
eaten fence post had a homemade sign nailed to it that said:

  THIS IS PRIVAT PROPTERY

  KEEP OUT!! THAT MEANS YOU

  TRESSPASSERS WILL BE SHOT ON SITE

  Earl was never much for spelling or grammar. Wasn’t much for social skills, either. I remember about ten years ago, when he suddenly decided to get himself some religion. Rose used to teach Bible study every Thursday night at the church, and Earl started showing up, sitting in the back and glowering at everyone. Most of us just ignored him, but Rose was delighted. She viewed him as another one of God’s lost lambs coming in from the cold and made it her personal mission to tell Earl Harper the good news of Christ’s sacrifice.

  One night, we were talking about love and how the Bible commands us to love everybody and offer each a chance to worship the Lord. Earl, who hadn’t said a word for weeks, stood up and declared, “I’ll tell you folks something. There’s three types of people in this world that I won’t love. The first is the queers. The second is the niggers. And the third is the Jews.” Then he sat back down again, having said his piece.

  Apparently, he realized that his contribution to the dialogue might have ruffled some feathers, because the next week, he showed up again and clarified his statement. “I reckon I should explain myself a little better. I got to thinking about it this week, and I guess I don’t believe that we should forbid folks from coming to church. But maybe we could have a pink row of pews in the back, and the queers could sit there. Then we could have a row in front of that one, painted black, for the niggers. And one painted green for the Jews, since they love money. I reckon that would be okay, and that way, I wouldn’t have to sit with them if I didn’t want to.”

  After that, we asked Earl not to come to Bible study anymore. He didn’t take that very well. See, while you might be chuckling at his ignorance, or shaking your head, Earl had been serious. He really thought his recommendations would be acceptable.

  But now I’ve gone and started rambling again. I’m wearing this pencil down to a nub (I keep sharpening it with my pocketknife) and we’re not even halfway done yet. And the pain is getting worse.

  Anyway, Carl and I stood there on Earl’s property, staring at that hand-lettered sign. Splotches of the white fungus I’d seen in the hollow grew on the trees along the lane. Carl reached out with his finger.

  “Don’t touch that stuff,” I warned. “You don’t want to get it on your skin.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m not sure, but I saw it growing on a deer this morning. Can’t imagine it’s too healthy.”

  Carl shuddered. “No, I don’t reckon it is. Hope it’s not airborne.”

  We turned away from the fungus and stared up at Earl’s shack.

  “I still don’t think this is such a good idea,” Carl whispered.

  I didn’t reply. I was thinking about that bloodstain on Dave and Nancy’s wall, and the weird slime that had covered everything.

  And about missing houses and buildings swallowed up by the earth.

  And about what I’d seen happen to the bird earlier in the morning.

  I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold or dampness in the air.

  We trudged through the mud towards Earl’s shack. The clearing was deathly still. Even the rain seemed to fall without sound. We were about halfway there when an explosion split the air. At first, I thought it was thunder. Then Earl Harper shouted, “Stop right there, you two, or I’ll blow your goddamn heads off!”

  He emerged from the trees, dressed in combat fatigues and a floppy-brimmed rain hat and pointed a twelve-gauge shotgun at us. Smoke still drifted from the barrel. He was soaked, and I wondered how long he’d been outside.

  “Howdy, Earl,” I tried. “Let’s just settle down now. We don’t mean you no harm.”

  He glanced at the rifle in Carl’s shaking hands and motioned with the shotgun.

  “If you don’t mean no harm, Teddy Garnett, then turn right around and head back the way you come.”

  “We just wanted to see how you’re holding up,” Carl explained, carefully pointing his rifle away from Earl. “Ain’t no call to shoot at us, Earl.”

  “And there ain’t no fucking call to be trespassing on my property, neither, Carl Seaton.” Earl’s eyes were wide, and his wet face seemed to shine. “You’ve seen me, and seen that I’m all right. Now get on out of here!”

  “Listen now, Earl,” I said, fighting to keep my voice calm. “We’re fixing to leave in just a second. But I need to ask you something important first.”

  “What?” He kept the weapon pointed at me, and his expression was suspicious.

  I stared down the barrel of his gun, and felt my nuts tighten. “Have you seen or heard from Dave and Nancy Simmons within the past few days?”

  “No. I ain’t seen them. Not that I’d want to anyway. Why?”

  “We just stopped by their place. It looked like there might have been a struggle. I’m worried about them, and just wondered if you might have heard anything.”

  His eyes narrowed and his grip tightened on the shotgun.

  “You accusing me of something, Garnett?”

  “Not at all. Just worried about them is all, and you’re their closest neighbor.”

  “I ain’t seen nothing of them, but I’ll tell you this. Whatever happened to them will happen to you fellas too. You just wait and see.”

  Carl frowned, and the rifle twitched in his hands. “What are you talking about?”

  “There are things in the ground, turning under our feet, crawling through the maze beneath the earth. I hear them at night. They speak to me, and tell me things.”

  I froze. Carl shot me a wary look.

  “I—I think maybe I’ve seen them too,” I said. “What are they, Earl? Do you know?”

  “Maybe I do and maybe I don’t.” He smiled. “But I ain’t interested in discussing it with you, Garnett. Reckon you’ll find out soon enough. Now you two get out of here. I mean it!” He jacked the shotgun.

  Carl and I kept our eyes on him and slowly backed away. I stepped in a puddle and cold water soaked though my sock.

  Earl began to laugh. “You look like a pair of drowned rats!”

  “Nice seeing you again, Earl,” Carl muttered. “Take care now!”

  “You boys think it will rain today?” Earl called.

  Carl leaned towards me and whispered, “I told you so. He’s crazier than a copperhead in a mulberry bush on a hot day in July.”

  I nodded. “I already said you were right. Let’s go.”

  But Earl wasn’t finished. “Y’all thought I was senile. Crazy! Talking about me, whispering behind my back down at the Ponderosa and your precious church functions. But you’ll see. Here’s the proof! I warned you about the government’s HARP project. Weather control. Heard about it on the radio. Tried telling you, but you just fucking laughed, didn’t you? Well, I guess I’m the one laughing now, ain’t I?”

  “You take care, Earl.” I waved. “We’ll be heading on home now.”

  He fired another shot into the air and ejected the shell. It landed in a rain puddle. Wisps of lazy smoke curled from the barrel.

  “I see either of you skulking around here again and I’ll blow your fucking heads clean off your damn shoulders. Ain’t nobody gonna take what’s mine, goddamn it!”

  Carl pointed his rifle up into the air and held his free hand out, the palm facing Earl. “You don’t have to worry about that. Not that there’s anything here worth taking anyway.”

  Earl scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean, Seaton?”

  “Meditate on it for a bit, why don’t you. You’re a bright one. I reckon you’ll figure it out.”

  “Carl,” I hissed. “Quit antagonizing him. Let’s just get out of here.”

  “Don’t you come back, either,” Earl warned. He faded into the trees like a ghost, but we could feel his eyes on us, watching as we trudged down the lane.

  We made it back to the truck in one piece and climbed inside. The h
eater warmed us while we got our pounding pulses under control. Then Carl pulled away as fast as he could, spinning the tires and spraying mud and gravel all over Earl’s homemade sign.

  “Well, the rain certainly hasn’t helped his disposition, now has it?” I joked.

  Carl shook his head. “No, I don’t reckon it has. I told you this was a bad idea.”

  “I know you did. And you were right. How many times you gonna make me say it?”

  “Sorry. But boy, he was fired up. What the hell was that all about, anyway? A maze underneath the earth and such?”

  “I’m not sure. Earl was always a crazy son of a bitch, but now…”

  Carl’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel harder. “You think he killed Dave and Nancy?”

  I hesitated, considering the possibility. “I would, but you saw the house for yourself. Earl’s not as old as us, but he’s no spring chicken, either. I don’t think he’d have had the strength to do all that damage. Then there’s all that slime, and…”

  Carl turned towards me. “And what?”

  “I saw something earlier this morning, before you showed up. Something odd.”

  “What was it?”

  “Well…I—I think it was a worm.”

  “Oh Lord, Teddy, that’s nothing. I saw them worms all over your carport too. Sure, that was peculiar, but it ain’t worth carrying on about.”

  “I’m not talking about that. This was earlier, just after dawn. I couldn’t see it very well, on account of the rain and fog, but…”

  “But what?”

  “It looked like a worm, but it couldn’t have been. It was too big. There’s no worm on earth that big.”

  “I saw a picture once, in an issue of National Geographic. One of those native Bushmen fellas was holding up an eight-foot-long night crawler. Gave me the willies something awful. Of course, that was in Africa or some such place, not in West Virginia.”