The Fall of Never(143)

Timid and afraid, Carlos stepped around the side of Nellie’s bed and bent to one knee beside Josh’s body. The boy’s eyes were closed, his mouth slack. Carlos’s eyes traced down to Josh’s hands, noticed the spiky hairs on his arms. One hand had fallen into Josh’s lap, palm up. The flesh of his palm was scored with dark carbuncles, as if he’d grabbed a live electrical wire and hadn’t let go. Afraid to touch him, Carlos only bent his head to Josh’s face, listened for his breathing. It was faint but there.

“Josh.” Carlos touched his shoulder. Josh’s flesh was warm, burning up through his shirt, but not charged. He felt Josh’s pulse at his neck. It was steady. “Come around, Josh.”

Josh’s eyes fluttered. His lips pushed together, smacked against each other. His face was waxen and sick-looking, as if he were in the throes of a particularly virulent flu. In his lap, Josh’s hands moved, shifted, balled up on themselves. Carlos could hear the charred skin crackle.

“Kelly,” Josh breathed once then opened his eyes. Carlos could see confusion swimming in them as Josh slowly regained comprehension of his surroundings. He turned his head to face Carlos and winced in pain. He had to have one hell of a bump, Carlos thought.

“You all right?”

“I found her,” Josh said. His lips were dried and cracked. He looked as though he’d just spent a week walking through the Sahara. “I saw her, felt her…”

“I’m just glad you came back.”

“I don’t think she’s out yet.”

“Out where?”

“Out of the house.”

“Okay,” Carlos said. “Come on, sit up.”

Stiffly, Josh pushed himself up against the wall to a proper sitting position. He groaned, his body obviously wracked with pain. Situated, he brought his hands to his face, palms up. He stared at the ringlets of blackened skin.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, the pain clearly evident in his voice. “No masturbation for a while, huh?” He brought his eyes up to Nellie’s bed. From the floor, only the woman’s right hand was visible, hanging lifeless over the side of the bed. Josh suddenly tried to push himself off the wall, his body in sharp protest, his muscles popping audibly.

“Easy, Josh.”

“She’s not out of the house yet,” he said, his voice shaking. “She’s still in trouble. She has to get out of the house.” He staggered toward Nellie’s bed. “Nellie has—”

“Josh, she’s dead.”

“She—”

“She’s dead, Josh. Nellie’s dead.”

“Damn it.” He reached down and grabbed the old woman’s lifeless hands, held them tight inside his own. “Damn it, Nellie, come on—bring me back—”

“Josh.” Carlos moved behind him.

“She’s not.”

“Josh—”

He craned his head around to face the doctor. His eyes were blazing. “I’m telling you! She’s weak now, but still there. I can feel it in her.”

Carlos came up behind him. From over Josh’s shoulder he could make out the old woman’s face, skeletal and inert, the creases and lines of her face exaggerated in the darkness.

“Josh, listen to me, she’s—”

Josh grabbed him around the wrist, startling him. His grip was fierce and Carlos was helpless to pull away. And then he felt it—a subtle, lingering charge pulsing like undertow against the palm of Josh’s hand, rippling into his own hand, wrist, up his arm and toward his shoulder. The power was nowhere as intense as it had been with Nellie, but it was still there. He still pulsed with Nellie’s leftover power.

“Nellie’s hanging on,” Josh said. “She’s doing it for Kelly. We need to hang on too.”

Carlos didn’t know what to say. Stammered: “I…all right, okay…okay…”

Josh released Carlos’s wrist and delicately picked up Nellie’s hand again, turning away from the doctor. Rubbing his wrist, Carlos could see a red tincture to the skin where Josh had touched him, and a faint bloody thumbprint. The irritated area tingled. Like a thousand antennae prickling in awareness, the hairs along his arm stood at attention.

Beside him, Josh closed his eyes, his exhalations coming through his flared nostrils as if in meditation, his lips pressed tightly together. Not wanting to be in the way, Carlos stepped back around to the other side of the bed. He groped for his medical bag and held it against his chest.

She was dead at one point, Carlos thought. I’m certain of it. No one looks like that and still lives.

Josh’s head slipped slowly back. He stood there waving like a sunflower in a mild breeze.

Be careful, Carlos thought.

Josh’s body jerked and the stink of burning tires filled the room.



Around her: the soft din of a world about to crumble.

Kelly opened her eyes. Before her, Becky’s closet door remained closed…but she could now make out fine hairline fractures working up through the door toward the top of the frame. Likewise, the frame itself was now splintered and pockmarked. And above the door, the wall appeared to protrude slightly, to bulge, as if someone were pushing on it from the other side. Kelly began shuffling back on her hands and feet, unable to peel her eyes away from the closet door. The image of Simple Simon being dragged to his death by the two imaginary dead girls resonated in her head, like a chord strummed on an electric guitar. Something tickled her face, burned her eyes. She glanced up and saw that the ceiling too was riddled with cracks. Powdered plaster billowed out and floated to the floor, her face, her eyes.