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Ninety-Two

last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2021-09-09 17:26:35
NINETY-TWO

The voice of the teenager dripped into Liz Frost’s mind, a splattering of acid. Somewhere inside, the wet nose of The Beast turned towards its host, ruffling leathery wings. She slammed the brakes.

“You went straight past that stop,” called the older of the two girls in the same seat.

“There’s a—” started the young man close to her. He held a book in the air.

Liz could tell he was about to say “a guythere” because she could see him out there on the path in the rear-vision mirror, approaching the bus.

This new passenger appeared strong and athletic, lost in his early thirties perhaps, it was difficult to tell. Close cut hair, and a goatee masking someone younger. The wind plastered his plain gray shirt against the pad of his belly.

Liz opened the door with hands that wouldn’t stop shaking.
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  • House of Sighs   Ninety-One

    NINETY-ONEJack Barker hated going unnoticed. In fact, there were few things on this planet that fueled his anger more.The bloody driver went straight past my stop. What am I invisible?He forced himself to calm down, pushing the heat back with each stride towards the bus. By the time the door opened, Jack almost had control of himself again. Almost.Once inside, he reached into his denims for change, wishing he’d worn shorts; it was too hot for pants like these. The veins in his forearms filled with blood, rising up through his skin like a string of cursive letters, reading, You need to get fit again, buddy. He gasped.Jack lifted his gaze to meet the driver’s.‘Death’ was the only word he could think to describe her.Like she hasn’t slept in years. Jesus.“What’s the rush, luv? You in the Grand Prix, too?” he said, shaking his head. Jack’s voice was a deep drawl. “It’s all right though.” He paused and glanced down the length of the bus to find everyone looking at him, clay p

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-09-09
  • House of Sighs   Ninety

    NINETYPerspiration welled in the folds of Steve’s gut. The bus was fitted with large, inoperable side windows; above each were sliding glass panels a child might get a head through if they were dumb enough. They were all open however, and whatever air could get in the vehicle was in already.Steve imagined sitting at the Maitland Golf Club bar, a schooner in hand, talking to mates over the whirr of Formula One cars. “I can feel a XXXX comin’ on,” was the catchphrase from the advertisements—and the old line had never been more inviting.The fantasy dissipated as his gaze passed over the emergency escape window near the kid from the stop. Next to the window was a small box where a BREAK IN CASE OF EMERGENCY hammer should have be tied. Yet was not.Tears in the seating, scuffs on the handlebars. Alert wires sagged in long, thin smiles. Graffiti scratched into the glass on Steve’s right. Peeling warning stickers covered the walls, a faded cardboard advertisement for Wrigley’s Extra Su

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-09-09
  • House of Sighs   Eighty-Nine

    EIGHTY-NINEThe outside world shrunk to a pinpoint and Liz pushed the bus towards it. Nothing else existed, just a vanishing point that she longed to vanish into. She chased the dot, pushing her foot against the accelerator. If she lost sight of it, then it all would have been for nothing.Sounds grew louder and louder. The hum and inner workings of the bus. Her dot of light brightened.Wheels spun faster, kicking dirt.***A mother pushing a baby carriage with two additional children at her side threw her hands into the air, cursing, as the bus roared past her stop at the entrance to Combi-Chance Road.Three days later, Bobby Deakins will leave a copy of the Bridge Bugle in the mother’s mailbox. She will read about what happened, about who died and on what bus it all occurred. The woman will cry for four continuous hours.In the cloudless sky, five black crows circled.***Jack Barker tracked the angry people on the roadside until their yells bled away, forms lost in a cloud

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-09-09
  • House of Sighs   Eighty-Eight:

    EIGHTY-EIGHT:ShadowLiz on the ground of her parents’ shed. An exposed light bulb swung back and forth in a lethargic arc.Shadow. Light. Shadow. Light.A leather belt tied around her left bicep, the skin bruised. On the floor next to her was the syringe. From a hole in her arm a single line of blood oozed free.The Beast hid in the dark. She opened her eyes. Teeth chattered. A shadow that remained even when the bulb swung the world into illumination. A person so tall and far away. In the middle of this shadow, she noted the winking red eye of a cigarette.She felt so good and she wanted more.“Please—”The shadow fell over her.“Please don’t leave me.”The shadow withdrew. Where Liz’s face had been, there was now a spluttering pulp. Blood erupted from her nose and flooded the wells of her eye sockets. Limp hands swiped numbly at the red. Screaming, followed by silence.The shadow was fearful of what it had done. Its wet cigarette fell to the floor where the night continued

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-09-09
  • House of Sighs   Eighty-Seven:

    EIGHTY-SEVEN:ImpactThe twinkling of the Saint Christopher medallion blinded Liz. She couldn’t tell how long she’d stared at it, hypnotized.Where am I again?Tingles ignited in her fingers, forcing them to squeeze around the steering wheel. It was hard and real, a realness that made her fog dissipate, focus blooming outwards to encompass the dashboard, and beyond, the windscreen of the bus she was employed to charter, though the world on the other side of the glass remained too glary to discern. Just yet.Oh, Christ.Liz swerved the vehicle—eighteen tons of paid responsibility—away from the curb, and as she did so, caught a suggestion of the world past her medallion. A land of blur, which now Liz was back in her body, she forced into focus. Somethingfloated towards her at an unimaginable speed.A cherub swathed in pink light.***Ten-year-old Suzie Marten spun in her leotard to the music from her Walkman, knowing only the happiness of the moment. Behind closed eyes, her futu

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-09-09
  • House of Sighs   Eighty-Six

    EIGHTY-SIXWhat once was Steve but was now merely meat, arced backward. He hit the ground hard. A splinter of skull landed near Michael’s hand.Liz watched the corpse dance. Soon the spasms died, but the blood continued to gush.This is what I would have looked like if I’d shot myself this morning. Or all those other times, she thought. Doing a little tap dance to music nobody else can hear. Going to pulp. Making a darn mess over the carpet that Mum would hate to clean.“L-l-look wh-what you all d-did,” she sputtered. A line of spittle between her upper and lower lips shook with every word, threatening to snap.The sounds of her passengers were tortures she could no longer stand, so when she screamed at them to “Stop it,” the words drained her person. Liz could have collapsed, a skeleton without substance. But no, she held true. To Liz’s surprise, the passengers went silent. Still. This power over them kept her flame burning, a glimmer in the skull’s eye socket, flickering movemen

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-09-09
  • House of Sighs   PART THREE - Eighty-Five

    “PART THREE:On the Road“There are no foreign lands. It is the traveler only who is foreign.”—Robert Louis Stevenson”EIGHTY-FIVEPeter prayed on the floor, notebook in hand. I’ll never fight with Mum again if I get out of this alive. This had changed him, made him see the value in her spite. All he wanted to do was write, but he would give it up to see her face again. He smiled, knowing that when the police found the dead girl rescue wouldn’t be far away.What Peter didn’t know was that Suzie Marten’s body wouldn’t be found by police for almost two hours. A haystack-toting pickup will stumble upon mother and daughter on the road. It will take another hour and a half for the police to arrive, the farmer constructing a makeshift barricade around the body from his cargo. He would spend his time comforting the woman, throwing rocks to keep the crows away, and at one point chasing a guinea fowl with a torn-off fing

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-09-09
  • House of Sighs   Eighty-Four

    EIGHTY-FOURThe empty Frost family kitchen.Water dripped from a faucet. The refrigerator hummed. Danish figurines lined the top of the kitchen door architrave, collecting dust. A pair of long-bladed scissors hung from a hook by the sink.Wes was upstairs in the bathroom. The Kinks and Waterloo Sunset lilted down the hallway from the record player. His wife loitered in the living room watching television, a magazine across her lap. Daytime soap operas mingled with the music.There was a filing cabinet in the study full of tax reports, and Liz’s and Jed’s old school papers—Reggie held on to it all. Every drawing, every Easter card, all kept and forgotten in that tiny room.Outside, last year’s Christmas cutouts flanked the house. Dead fairy lights in the trees swung low over Santa and his reindeer, a shepherd leading his donkey. It embarrassed Reggie that they were still up, though she couldn’t find the energy to take them down now.The shed: thirty feet from the front door on the

    Terakhir Diperbarui : 2021-09-09

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  • House of Sighs   Two & One

    TWOEat the part that hurts, said the voice of the flies.Eat the part that hurts.ONEOutside, fog yielded to the winter wind and moonlight beamed through. That same rush of air swept over the James Bridge Motor Motel to rattle its eaves, blowing dirt against its windows. The night’s breath, so very much like a sigh, eased the door on the second floor shut. Ungreased hinges creaked, creaked, and trapped the new fathers within.Somewhere out there, time moved on. But not here. Not inside room eleven.

  • House of Sighs   Three

    THREEAiden came around to face his partner head on, Danny’s silhouette outlined in blue and pink. He could see every hair on his head, the fine peach fuzz along his arms, all of it highlighted in vibrant detail. Seeing him, Aiden thought, was to observe a painting, an oil on canvas titled ‘Man on Bed Holding Baby’.The itsy-bitsy-spider within Aiden’s throat bit down. Muscles tensed. Terror filled him and froze, painful cracks appearing in the ice as he brought his hands to his face. Things like this didn’t happen to people like him. This was something from a horror movie, or maybe, tomorrow’s headlines.I’m a good person, Aiden wanted to scream. I—we—don’t deserve this. It’s gone too far. Take it back.Take it back!Too late for that now. Aiden Bonner was in room eleven of the James Bridge Motor Motel, with the carpet beneath his feet and the stink of copper tainting the air. He was in room eleven with Danny as he brought the child to his face to plant a kiss on its cheek. Reali

  • House of Sighs   Four

    FOURThe woman who’d made the emergency call had collapsed at the entrance to another room on Kaaron Brennan’s right. Long, red hand streaks also palmed the door there. Blood lathered the handle, grew fat at the bottom of the knob, dropped to the puddle by the woman’s severed ear.Ploink.Ploink.Ploink.Brennan wanted to cry. She didn’t, and kept her pain inside.Stenciled across the ajar door were two words. It must have taken a caring, steady hand to inscribe that lavender printing so well, even going to the effort to put a little heart above the ‘I’. A mother’s touch, if there ever was one.“Timmy’s room,” Kaaron, who had two kids of her own, read aloud.Later, there would be time for weeping. That time was not now.

  • House of Sighs   Five

    FIVESneakers wisped over carpet. Aiden was tempted to reach into the dark, but he held off for the time being, letting his eyes adjust instead. The room sketched into form one shade of blue and pink at a time.Aiden found his partner sitting on the bed with his back to him, lit in neon glow.The quiet hotel room. Quiet, except for a curious suckling sound.“Danny?” Aiden said and took another step. His chest seized when he saw a shape on the far wall near the kitchenette, where the drawers had been opened.Just his shadow.You bloody fool, he could almost hear his mother say, leaning over to scold him as she did when he was a kid, bringing with her a wave of scented lady sweat and bush smoke. Pull your shit together.Aiden longed to have her here with him now, even if only to condemn him. That, at least, would be something. He felt so disconnected from his people, from his land. He couldn’t wait, one way or another, for this Hell to be over. Besides, he did need to pull his shi

  • House of Sighs   Six

    SIXNull relented and nodded, stepping up to his partner’s side as they inched to that doorway. Brennan smelled blood in there, in the pit of nothingness.They forced themselves through the arch, the quaking beam of Null’s flashlight revealing an upended phone on the floor, and farther ahead, the soles of two pale bare feet.Brennan didn’t want to see. Yet it was her job to see.It wasn’t that the woman’s clothes had been torn away. The comfy looking Sunday garments had bloomed off the slippery corpse, shed like the scrim of a cocoon. There was no beautiful butterfly here, not here in this dark house on Queen Street. Only cuts on top of cuts.For all Brennan knew, she stared at eighty stab wounds. Or more.“Good God in Heaven,” whispered Null. These were the quivering tones of that boy in the third grade, the one who feared his teacher’s yells because he hadn’t done his homework again.If only there was a way to wind back the clock and erase this sight from her mind, to go back

  • House of Sighs   Seven

    SEVENBlue and pink neon light illuminated Aiden’s way.He listened to the buzz of electricity from the MOTEL sign at the carpark’s entrance; it sounded like a hive, bee stingers rasping together. Another gust of wind blew through town to rustle his fringe, to stir the foggy cauldron obscuring the sky, stretching it thin in places to reveal the quarter moon beneath. He sweated. And he was scared.Aiden stopped.He thought of his flight from Brisbane to Bangkok and the black-and-white movie he’d watched on the way. It’s A Wonderful Life, it had been called, and while it featured numerous set-pieces, one particular scene returned to him now. In it, Jimmy Stewart’s character said he would lasso the moon and gift it to his gal to win her affection.And earn her love.The fog rolled in. Everything turned blue and pink once more.To think that he—or any man—had ever set their sights on the moon and thought it a three-dimensional thing worth dragging to Earth for the sake of someone sp

  • House of Sighs   Eight

    EIGHTAn ambulance pulled up as Kaaron Brennan entered the house. Never once in her six years on the force had she ever drawn her gun with the intent to shoot; she was more terrified now than she’d ever been. Null was by her side, covering blind corners. Every door she kicked open revealed empty rooms, rooms of unfinished business. The paperback on the bedside table with the bookmark tucked within, the mobile phone blinking messages received, a scented candle that had never been lit.Death in the details.Blood caked thick where the hallway branched into a T intersection, kitchen on her left and living room on her right. There was no mistaking which way the action had progressed; gore led to weeping MasterChef contestants.The door hung off its hinges on the other side of the room. Darkness beyond. Null shone his flashlight to reveal handprints on the architraves, swipes of blood resembling red, drooling smiles.Footsteps and flashing beams outside the window, past the television.

  • House of Sighs   Nine

    NINEAiden thought he’d dreamed the coming and going of sirens. He lifted his head from the pillow, muscles giving a kick. The musty motel air made his eyes itch.The television was on, evening soap operas playing out their inevitable dramas.Those sirens sounded so real.He fumbled for the remote and switched the old unit off. Beautiful faces shrunk down to a dot, bleeping into oblivion.Aiden propped himself up with one arm and looked to the window across from him, brow furrowed with concerned tension lines. He strained his ears, blinked his quiet shock away, and registered the fading screech of police cars. Or maybe an ambulance.Legs swung around to touch the carpet.He licked his lips. Dry.Aiden was at the point of crawling off the mattress and taking himself over to the kitchenette to drink water straight from the tap like he used to when he was a kid, but he stopped in his tracks. And he stopped because of a fresh sound, one that couldn’t be confused with another.The

  • House of Sighs   Ten

    TENIt took sixteen minutes for the police to arrive, and considering how long it took for the authorities to respond the day of the James Bridge massacre, this wasn’t too bad a turnaround. Some things had improved in this part of the world after all.Units dispatched from Maitland, further up the valley, their journey quickened by the expressway killing the town, skidding off the exit, kicking dust, their red and blue blinders like fireworks in the fog. They sped down the main drag and took a sharp turn, not bothering to stop at the traffic lights. Cockatoos feasting in the tree above the bus bench were startled into flight, feathers twirling and the branches tumbling into the gutter as they took to the air, screeching as though they were the chased ones.Units mounted the curb out the front of 15 Queen Street. One by one, lights bloomed within the surrounding houses. Rubberneckers took to their windows, clutching nightgowns, cupping faces to the glass.Officer Kaaron Brennan hit

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