Dark*Matter: Gators Under Gary (Was Exit 23)

[arwink]

Exit 23, Part One

Zac rubbed at the windshield, trying to clear his field of vision. It didn’t help much. All he got was the gentle swish of the wipers going back and forth, the field of white snow mounting up in front of him. There was the road…just…but he was fairly sure it wasn’t going to be there for much longer. The air conditioning on his rental coughed and spluttered a few times, trying to make its point, but Zac was long past paying attention.

He tried to control the cars descent along the off-ramp, heading towards the dim light of the rest stop in the distance. He figured it was mostly luck that let him spot the sign a few miles back, but he let out a small sigh of relief when he realized he was going to make it. The bright lights of the gas station were like gleaming stars after the hours of driving through the blizzard, and the steam rising from the heating vents promised more warmth than the crisp air being spat out by the car. A quick trip to the facilities, and he’d avail himself to the dubious comforts offered by the White River Rest Stop.

He crunched his way across the parking lot, past the big rigs and sports utilities that clustered along one end. The lights over the gas pumps were dark, as was much of the interior. Zac checked the opening hours on the gift shop and restaurant, but both were gone hours ago. The only signs of life from the cloyingly tacky foyer were bunch of people clustered in the donut shop. Teenage employees chatted amiably with rugged truckers, while some young student quietly talked about art with a balding executive.

‘Nothing like disaster to bring people together,” Zac muttered to himself. Bathroom first, then the best coffee and donuts available. It wasn’t quite tracking Bigfoot like he’d planned for his weekend, but it’d do in a pinch. At least the toilets were clean.

By the time he’d returned to the donut shop, the crowd had grown a little more. Another couple of truckers, a few more kids hanging out under the heating vent. Zac threaded his way through the crowd, towards the counter.

“Howdy,” he said, giving the aging counterwoman a quick grin.

“Another one,” she said. She poured a cup of black coffee and pointed towards him, giving Zac a quick glimpse of her name badge. Mabel. “Worst storm we’ve had round these parts in twenty years – you’d think everyone would have found some place to stop by now.”

“Didn’t know the area,” Zac said. “Only really found my way here by luck. Think it’ll last long?”
“Jane…that’s the officer over there…came in a few minutes ago. She says the roads are cut off north of here, and the latest reports don’t think this’ll blow over ‘til morning. I’m afraid you’re stuck here for the night.”

Zac thought about that for a second, scratching at his stubbled chin.

“In that case, how ‘bout another coffee, a couple of cinnamon donuts, a couple of crullers and a strawberry iced. Best to be prepared for the long haul.”

He collected his purchases and went looking for somewhere to sit. It wasn’t a large place – barely more than a half-dozen tables all up, so he squeezed into a corner booth held by a fit-looking woman and a clean-cut man dressed in a camoflage jacket. There was a lot of stuff crammed into the booth with them, from sleeping bags to suitcases, but there was enough room for another body.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Neither of them said anything. The woman read a book, intently focused on the text. On Zac’s right, Camouflage Jacket drank coffee in long slurps that drew a withering look from the far side.

“I’m Zac,” he offered, speaking around a mouthful of donut.
“Nick,” Camouflage said, offering his hand.
“And you?”
The woman looked up, eyes focusing on Zac.
“Ammie,” she said. “Two M’s, but spell it however you want. Everyone does.”

“Ready for a long night?” Nick said. Zac looked confused, and the blond man pointed at the pile of donuts. Zac shrugged.

“If we’re going to be here for a while, best make the best of it. No point wasting time.”

He lifted the first coffee to his mouth, drinking it in a long slurp. Ammie glared at him, but Nick was hard pressed to suppress a grin.

“Sorry,” Zac offered. “How about a donut to make it up to…”

The lights died.

“That’s going to suck.”

Then there was the BANG of something large and heavy hitting something else very hard.

Then the bloodcurdling scream, the trilogy of gunshots, the sudden silence.

Dread settled over the donut shop like a smothering blanket of snow.

 

[ledded]

Nice start to a classic adventure.

I'll be hanging around to see how this one develops, keep up the good work.

 

[arwink]

Exit 23, Part Two

Ammie didn’t like the quiet. It was too still. She slipped a hand into her pack, searching around for the flashlight tucked in behind the toiletry bag. Her hand brushed against the wound cord of the hilt, and she had to fight the temptation to draw it and take comfort in the weight. Unlikely to be helpful, she thought. The flashlight emerged not long after. All she wanted was a weekend on the ranch with Jonas, a few short days riding and training. Instead she got bad coffee and smart-arse geeks and gunshots. Christ.

Jonas didn’t even have the decency to sound disappointed when she’d called to let him know about the storm.

She found the flashlight and flicked it on, shining the beam around the faces at the table. Nick was pressed against the side of the booth, one hand dipping towards the back of his camouflage jacket. Probably some crazed survivalist, she thought. Telling himself he’s ready for everything. Zac was quietly eating a donut, his eyes darting nervously behind his glasses. He had seemed amiable enough when he sat down, a sort of crazed cross between Michael Moore and a lumberjack, but his nervousness and size were a bad combination in an emergency.

Someone needed to do something. Ammie figured it might as well be her.

“Does anyone else want to be the first person to ask what was that?”

No one answered, but it broke the tension. Across the others side of the room, Ammie could hear someone start to cry. On the opposite side of the booth, Nick was recovering from the shock and getting ready to move. He leapt to his feet and commandeered the flashlight, turning the light on the rest of the room. Everyone was huddled together, but there were no injuries.

“Mabel, does this place have generators?” Nick called.
“Yeah man, they do.”

The answer came from the far side of the shop, where a bunch of teenagers wearing service uniforms were squeezing into the corner. Ammie thought back to the people sitting there, remembered an Indian kid wearing the dull gray of a bowser jockey. It sounded like his voice.

“Where is it?”.

“Outside,” the voice returned. The light flicked back and forth across the group, eventually focusing on the wide eyes of the Indian kid.

“About two hundred feet away from the back door,” he said. “You know how to work it?”
“Yeah?”
It wasn’t a confident answer.

“Right,” Nick said. He gritted his teeth.

“Why are they never inside?” Ammie muttered. “No matter how many times this sort of thing happens, they insist on keeping the generator outside.”

Nick ignored her, heading over to the group of kids. She glanced across the table to Zac, barely able to make out his features in the darkness. He shrugged.

“Likes to take charge, doesn’t he?”
Ammie offered him a smile, clenching a fist in frustration.
“I guess someone has to do it.”
She pauses, uncertain.
“What do you think happened?”

There was a long slurp as Zac drank more of his coffee. Ammie did her best to avoid picturing herself shattering all the bones in his hand and mouth.

“Probably a broken window or something. Or the state trooper trying to drive off a bear or something that was taking shelter from the storm.”
“Why the state trooper?”
“She had a gun,” Zac said. “And she’s not in the shop anymore. State trooper would have a flashlight nearby, probably trying to take control of the situation about now.”

Nick reappeared by their table.

“Lets go.”

Ammie glanced across the table. Zac shrugged.
“Go where?”
“Gift shop,” Nick explained. “One of the kids gave me the keys, told me there’s some spare flashlights behind the counter. I’ll need spare hands, and its your flashlight I’m planning on taking, so I figured you’d be wanting to help.”

“Mind if I come along?”
Zac had finished his first donut and opened an I-Mac, the silvery light from the screen making him seem even paler. He typed a few words, then held the computer up. It wasn’t much light, but it shed a dim radiance that lit the table with a silvery glow. Nick just shrugged and started moving, gesturing for Ammie to follow.
“Guess your in,” Ammie said.

It took a few minutes to find the right key to the gift shop, a nervous process that made Ammie feel exposed every time the wind hurled itself against the sliding doors of the rest stop. Nick was busy swearing around the flashlight he had clenched between his teeth, testing key after key until one finally slid into the padlock.

“Right,” he said, then he disappeared into the shadowy mountains of shelves and stock dangling from the ceiling. It wasn’t a large store by any means, but it took a few seconds longer to pick their way through the debris without the aid of the flashlight.

“The girl said they’ve be back behind the counter. About a dozen or so,” Nick said. He paused for a moment. “Right.”
“Right what?”
“She didn’t mention they were all left over Finding Nemo toys.”

Nick held up a flashlight, clicking it on. The cheery light emerged from the mouth of a yellow and blue-stripped fish, weakly illuminating a spot about three feet wide on the far wall.

“Novelty toys,” Zac muttered. “I hate novelty toys.”

There was a sudden flash of light as he raised something to his face. Ammie blinked, dropping into a ready stance and holding her fists at the ready.

“Sorry,” Zac said. “Camera flash.”
“They’re torches,” Ammie said. “What in hell do you need to photograph them for?”
Zac was quiet for a few moments, his shadowy silhouette shifting uncomfortably.
“Posterity?”
“You want to remember this experience?”

“Guys, not the time,” Nick said. He handed a handful of flashlights over the counter. “Take one each and get the rest to the folks in the Donut Shop. Loud thumps? Gunshots? People hurt in the toilets? Remember?”

Ammie glared.
“Who died and made you boss?”
Nick grinned in the dim glow of the flashlight.
“No-one," Nick said. "Yet."

 

[skullsmurfer]

nice, i'll be back

 

[arwink]

Exit 23, Part Three

Nick kept one hand tucked into his jacket, the tips of his fingers brushing against the grip of the pistol. The other was holding up the flashlight, running the light over the doors to the bathrooms. The other two were pressed up against the wall behind him. The girl, Ammie, did a fair approximation of moving quietly. She wasn't trained for this kind of thing, but she was light on her feet and moved fast. The big guy, Zac, he was just two left feet and a nervous twitch. If there was a shooter still around here, the odds of Zac being the first man down were pretty good.

Nick did his best to shut off the nagging part of his brain that whispered someting about duty of care and bringing civilians in the line of fire. It'd been six years since the last time he went into the unknown without a full SWAT team, and after that...

After that...

Best not to think about it.

“Ladies first,” Nick said. He eased towards the door, keeping the flashlight trained on the wall so it didn't spill through the doorjam. The door swung open smoothly, a quick glance showing nothing. Nick leaned against the wall, glanced back at his two companions. With a nod, he ducked through the doorway.

Flashlights swept over the bathroom, shining against the pale blue tiles and the row of stalls. Nick crouched low, checking the stalls for feet, but everything was empty.

“Crouching on the seat?” Ammie suggested.
Nick glanced over his shoulder.
“You keep watch for someone making a run for it,” he suggested. “Don’t give them an out.”
Ammie nodded, moving on the balls of her feet. The golden glow of the Nemo flashlight scanned the row of stalls cautiously.

“Empty,” he said, glancing into the first. He moved up to the second stall, pressing his palm against the door. It swung open easily. “Empty.”

The third and fourth were the same. Everyone let out a short sigh of relief.

“Mens,” Nick ordered. He herded everyone out, pressing himself against the space between the two doorways. One hand reached out to push the door open, prepared to take a quick glance inside before entering.

The door moved about a fraction of an inch, then caught on something.

“What’s up?” Zac asked. The light of his flashlight hit Nick in the eyes.

“There’s something blocking the door,” Nick said. “Not heavy, but heavy enough that we’ll need to shove it open.”
“Right,” Zac said. He shined a flashlight at the floor. “There’s blood.”
Another two flashlights dropped low, showing the red slick that seeped beneath the door. Nick grimaced, put his hand on the pistol hilt and got ready to draw.
“I think the best course of action…”

Nick stopped mid-sentence, watching in horror as Zac pushed the door open without taking precautions. There was a whispering slide and a soft thump as the door swung wide. Zac let out a strangled cry, rushing into the room and turning to examine something behind the door.

Nick winced.

“Check the room,” He told Ammie, then peered round the doorway himself. The state trooper was slumped against the wall, blood pooling around her from a pair of wounds.

The first was caused by an icicle plunged deep into her chest, an icicle long enough to put most knives to shame. The second was caused by another icicle that protruded from her eye, the mixture of tears and melting ice running down the troopers face like tears. Zac was trying to wake the trooper, shaking her in an effort to get a response.

“Oh *&#%$,” Nick said. The SIG-Sauer swept out of its holster and scanned the room.

“We got another one,” Ammie called. She was halfway across the rest room, shining Nemo into one of the stalls. Nick left the trooper to Zac and moved down, the pistol sweeping across the room in a professional arc. Ammie took a few steps back, getting out of the guns arc.

The stall was occupied by a door that had been ripped of its hinges, and a tall businessman dressed in a suit that would have been fairly natty if it wasn’t for the huge bloody RENTS where he’d been ripped apart by some wild animal.

Nick knelt next to him, checking for a pulse. It was weak, but there. God knows how he managed to live with his wounds.

“Either of you know anything about first aid?”

Nick started tending as best he could, binding wounds with torn shirt and jacket strips. It wasn’t much, but he had never focused too much on the first aid side of things in the academy. He thought he was doing the right thing, but in the darkness and the cold he was hard pressed to remember the correct procedure for anything more complex than CPR.

“A little, but it’s been a while sinc…” Zac appeared by the entryway to the stall, light looking over the carnage.

“Oh *&#%$,” he said. His Nemo light scanned the bloody walls, setting off a glittering sheen as the light hit layers of frost. Then he stopped, pointing his light directly at the floor.

“Oh *&#%$ me,” he repeated.

Nick glanced over his shoulder, looking at the tall mans discovery.

In the middle of the floor, imprinted among the blood and frost, was the footprint of a creature that was almost definitely not human. Nick paused in his tending, looking at the print a little more closely. The moment he saw it, his heart leapt into his throat.

“Looks like a wolf print,” he said, as casually as he dared. “No big deal.”
“Wolf print?” Zac was getting worked up. “What kind of wolf has its paw split in the middle like that? Hell, what kind of wolf leaves a paw print a foot and a freaking half long?”

“Really, really big ones.”

Nick looked at the business suit, took his pulse again. Still week, and not getting any steadier.

“Grab his legs,” he ordered. “I’ll keep his neck stable."

The other two looked at him, slightly taken back. Nick let out a small sigh of frustration.

"We need to move him or he’s going to die.”

 

[Paxr0mana]

Hmm, this seems oddly familiar...

 

[arwink]

Hmm, this seems oddly familiar...

I blame jonrog1. I figure that after reading his storyhour, about a dozen people a year go out, pick up the Dark*Matter rulebook and immediately start writing storyhours.

I mean, heck, that's why I'm doing it

 

[the Jester]

Nice start here, Arwink! I like it!

 

[arwink]

Exit 23, Part Four

Nick was trying to raise help on the state troopers radio, his call getting lost in bursts of static and chaos. The SIG-Sauer was still in his hand, the troopers glock tucked into his waist band. It wasn’t, Zac thought, a terribly good sign.

“No good,” Nick said eventually. “I’ve got the message through. I think. If they’ve heard it, they’ll be here soon. ‘Officer down’ is the only phrase that gets a state trooper moving faster than ‘free donuts’.”

“Lot of snow out there,” Ammie said. “Really think they’ll be able to make it?”

Nick shrugged. He turned his attention back to the fallen business man. His wounds were patched as best they could manage, the breathing a little more stable, but it still wasn’t good. It’d taken all the scraps of first aid the two of them could remember to even get him to that point, and medical facilities in the rest stop were likely to be nonexistent.

“Grab the door,” Nick ordered. “We’ll take him back to the donut shop. Keep him as warm as we can.”

Ammie and Zac both blinked a few times, not entirely sure what he was getting at. Then they moved the fallen door into position, laying it out and moving the wounded so it could be used as a makeshift stretcher. They took a corner and lifted, slowly shuffling past the state trooper and through the doorway.

Then Nick stopped, halting the progress.

“Put it down,” he whispered. “Noise in the arcade.”

Ammie and Zac exchanged glances. Neither of them had heard anything, but Nick was the guy with the guns now…

They laid the door down, readied the flashlights and followed him into the darkened corridor. The looming shape of dark arcade machines filled both walls, ominously quiet without the usual barrage of electronic bleeps and whistles. Nick circle wide, gun and flashlight trained on the spaces along the far wall.

Zac watched, his own flashlight following Nick as much as the far wall. Whatever killed the cop in the bathroom wasn't likely to be hiding out in the arcade, and Nick seemed awfully comfortable with the gun. It was held at the ready, being careful not to block off his line of fire as he moved and switched the position of his light.

Then Nick stopped.

“Christ,” he said. The gun disappeared back into its holster. “It’s just a kid.”

Ammie approached cautiously, watching as Nick tried to calm the kid. Huddled into the space between two machines was a teenager, still dressed in the uniform of the burger joint from the far side of the rest stop. He was shaking, skin covered in frost, muttering to himself.

“You okay?” Nick asked. “Hey, kid, you okay?”

He reached out with one hand, shaking the youth’s shoulder. Eyes snapped open, looking at them.

“SHUT UP MAN, THAT *&#%$ THING MIGHT HEAR YOU!”

The kid started to cry.

Zac was there in an instant, his voice adopting a soothing tone as he started speaking.
“What thing? What did you see?”
“It…I…there was this thing…it was like a giant cloud of snow…then it was like a wolf…Man, it killed that guy. Ripped him apart. When the cop went in she shot it. Shot it three times, and all it did was rip her apart. I watched it kill them, watched it…watched it…”

The kid stopped, blinking into the glare of the flashlights.

“It saw me. It looked right at me, IT KNOWS WHO I AM. IT’S coming to FRICKEN GET ME. I gotta get out of here…”

He struggles to his feet, panic evident in his eyes. He gets three steps towards the doorway when Ammie neatly grabs his arm in an iron grip, holding him fast.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Nick says. He keeps his tone as authoritative as he dares, in this state the kid is far from stable. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Danny.”
“Show me your arms Danny.”
“*&#%$ you man, I’m not high. I saw a *&#%$ing wolfman rip that guy apart.”

Nick ignored him, ripped Danny’s sleeves as high as they could go. He was clean, and his eyes didn’t show signs of anything other than shock and fear.

Which meant he was either traumatized, or he really saw what he thought he did.

Nick wasn’t sure whether to start singing or to start gibbering in terror.

“Come on, Danny, we’re going back to the others. It’s safer if we stay together.”

The mood in the donut shop was tense. Adding a panicked kid and a barely conscious business man did little to calm the situation. Nick took charge of the situation immediately, holstering his gun and pulling a wallet free from his jacket.

“Okay folks, we’ve got a situation,” he said. “My name is Officer Nick De Lattre, ATF. Everyone just keep calm and we should get through this just fine.”

People crowded around the body, checking it over.

“What happened to him, man?” The Indian kid asked.

Nick shrugged.

“At this time, we’re not entirely sure. We think it may have been self inflicted.”

 

[arwink]

Exit 23: Part Five

Ammie huddled over her coffee, watching the silhouettes of the other patrons as they crowded around Nick and the unconscious body.

“At least he’s a cop,” she said. “I had him pegged as a nut-case originally.”
Zac was busy demolishing another donut, licking the cinnamon off his fingers.
“The two aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive.”

Nick still had both the guns. Both the guns, a badge, and an uncertain mental stability. Ammie thought about that for a while.

“So what do you think it was?” she asked finally. “Some kind of bear?”
“Bear couldn’t get in,” Zac said. “Not without leaving some trace. Plus, it’s not really built for the whole stabbing with icicles thing.”
“Crazy guy?”
“Know many people that look like a cloud of snow?”
“What in hell do you think it is then?”
“I don’t know,” Zac said. His tone was suddenly even, dangerously rational. “A demon maybe? Some kind of alien?”

Ammie blinked. Twice. She wasn’t entirely sure she just heard that.

“A demon or an alien,” she repeated. Very slowly, to be sure Zac understood what she had heard coming out of his mouth.
“Yeah.”
“Your serious?”
Zac shrugged.
“Of course.” He looked at her blank expression. “Your not a believer, are you. Trust me, they exist. I can show you some very blurry photographs of some truly freaky *&#%$.”
“You are nuts, you know that?”
“You got a better explanation.”

Ammie thought about that for a second.

“A psycho,” she said. “In a bear suit.”

“That sounds likely.”
Nick was back at their table, standing side-on with one eye trained on the crowd. He was glancing over his shoulder, keeping an eye on the crowd, but his voice was low enough that only the three of them could hear.

“We’ve got a problem.”

Ammie and Zac leaned in, letting Nick lower his voice a little further. Outside the howling wind almost sounded like a wild animal. Ammie resisted the urge to shudder.

“I just tried to radio the State Troopers again,” Nick whispered. “Sound like they’re a fair way off. Can’t quite make out the reason through the static, but it sounds like there’s been an avalanche. If that guy doesn’t get treatment, he doesn’t last the night.”

“So?”

“So we need to get out there and start one of those cars,” Nick said. “Blizzard or no, he’s got a better chance on the road than he does here.”

Then they heard the sound of a car horn blaring. Followed by another. And another. A cacophony of noise that drowned out the sudden cries of panic in the donut shop.

Ammie rushed to the doorway.

Just in time to be highlighted by the flare of sixteen pairs of car and truck lights, all switching on as a single illuminating burst of light.