Gossamer Falls Read online

  “I’m sure the mayor has some ideas for this already,” he answered Hanrahan with scorn. Hanrahan laughed.

  “I bet he does!” This seemed to tickle the old doctor and his laugh went on for a while.

  “I’d appreciate it if you didn't spread this around, but there are still small clouds, some of them only the size of our hand, floating all over the mountainside. This thing might not be over yet.”

  “Things are never over, Sheriff. Haven’t you noticed that in your life yet?” Anderson looked at him, not sure if he was being serious or if he was still mirthful after his whiskey. Then, as he thought about it, he understood Hanrahan was right. Nothing ended really; the same things cropped up again and again. Why would this time be any different?

  Lawrence Karrier’s idea of evacuating the town might not be so far off the mark after all. The question was, would it be for a short time, or for good?

  Chapter 14

  Pa Shaker opened the bar that evening because he didn’t know what else to do. He spent the morning thinking on whether he should or not and came to the conclusion it wasn’t good for people to just be sitting at home in fear. If they wanted a place to go, he would provide it. The fact the place was open wouldn’t be advertised, but if anyone showed up, he wouldn’t turn them away. And if there were only a few people, the drinks would be on the house. It would be good for him to be busy too after all that happened.

  There had been fights aplenty inside the bar and out over the years, but none that resulted in anything worse than a broken nose or wrist. Having someone die at the door to the bar - even though the place itself played no part in it - was something very hard to get to grips with. In the back of Pa’s mind, he knew ghost stories would pop up about the bar in the future. People would say the ghost of the poor lad haunts the entrance to the bar. Drunks will claim to see the ghost, and children will sneak up here while playing hooky from school to scare the bejesus out of one another. It was all inevitable.

  Pa went to the door and marked off a walkway inside that wouldn’t bring people directly under the hardened stuff on the roof. The sheriff had been out and told Pa to make sure not to try take it down himself - as if he’d be that stupid after seeing what it had done.

  For two hours no one showed up. Pa drank coffee and looked over the newspaper. The out of town titles hadn’t been delivered anywhere in town yesterday for obvious reasons, but the local sheet ‘The Gossamer Shopper’, known to its readers as the ‘Gossamer Gossiper’, had been hand delivered by the newspaper editor himself. They had the inside scoop on the biggest story this town had ever seen. Not that they had any insight on it, however; the story was a simple factual report of what had happened - as far as they knew. They were as in the dark about what was really happening as anyone else.

  There were many black and white grainy photos of the clouds where they had landed, and it seemed to Pa that there must have been plenty more not pictured too. He’d seen the clouds drifting like everyone else and saw them landing in the lake and others floating on into town or beyond. How could something so beautiful have turned into something so horrific?

  The door swung open and it startled Pa, but only for an instant, and the person coming in wouldn’t have seen his reaction He looked up to see Danny Putch come in and look slowly about the room before coming over to the bar. Pa would have preferred someone else, but Danny would have to do for a start. It probably meant Clinton Scarrow wouldn’t be too far behind.

  “Quiet evening,” Danny smiled, sitting up onto a high stool.

  “So far,” Pa said. “Beer?” Danny nodded and Pa pulled the tap.

  “I was hoping you’d be open,” Danny said, “I was just drivin’ around and the place is dead.”

  “I don’t expect people are much in the mood for drinking after what’s happened,” Pa said, pulling a beermat in front of Danny and setting his beer down. Danny nodded his thanks and ran a finger through the cold condensation on the outside of the glass.

  “You should call down to town,” Danny said. “My guess is that no one knows you’re open, but they’d come up here if they knew.”

  “I guess people will be out and about like you if they want to,” Pa said. He didn’t like the idea of trying to drum up business on the phone; it seemed sleazy - even if he was planning on giving the booze away for free.

  “Clint been in?” Danny asked, no longer interested in Pa’s business acumen.

  “No one’s been in but you,” Pa said, and he lifted the sheet and turned the page in the newspaper. More pictures of that damned stuff. “You hear anything about the search they did in the mountains today?” Pa asked Danny.

  “I was just talkin’ to someone before coming up here and they said it looks like it might be coming from where Mercy used to be.” Pa didn’t like the sound of that. His was the closest place in town to the mountains, and he’d stood outside on that cold, snowy night watching Mercy and the mountain around it burn to nothing. All night long he was protecting his own bar and home from floating embers that drifted down looking for something else to light up. In a way that had been like some hot precursor to the clouds that had come this week. Thankfully the fire in Mercy had gone out fast, much faster than anyone would have thought possible. Ten square miles of forest went up and burned to the ground in only five hours. There was still no one in the world who could explain away such a thing - especially in a month-long snow spell.

  Over the next hour a grand total of eight more people showed up and they spread about the large room in three small groups. Pa felt good seeing them all here and was glad he’d opened now and given them somewhere to be.

  The door opened again and this time it was Clinton Scarrow, and he didn’t look to be in the best of shape. This could mean trouble, Pa thought.

  Chapter 15

  Clinton woke with a start and rolled instinctively away and was on his feet in a second. He couldn’t remember what had spooked him so, but he knew it was nearby. Looking around, he saw he was in the woods, and this didn’t make sense. His eyes scanned the area and he saw his car through the trees not far off.

  “What the fuck?” he said, trying to remember.

  His eyes landed on the hardened shell of the cloud then and it all came back to him. Or did it? He thought the cloud had broken open and something had splashed out on his face, but now that he was looking at the cloudy substance, he could see no opening in it. It was clear like ice and sat there like all the others all over town, doing nothing.

  Clinton turned and started walking back to his car, perplexed.

  When he got to the road, he looked to make out where the hell he was. It was the old loop road that would lead off to Mercy or else swing back around at a fork a few miles ahead. Why was he out here? Getting into the car, he saw the empty beer bottles and smirked; that might explain it. He felt through the mess of bottles for a full one but was disappointed.

  Clinton got in and turned the key, and everything from earlier came back to him in one flash; he’d been taking advantage of the town meeting and stealing from the empty houses. He’d seen Karrier and Tammy and had followed them down this road. But why had he stopped the car and gone into the woods? Looking at the fuel gauge, he saw that was fine. Maybe he’d needed to piss and had passed out; that sounded like a possibility. He nodded; that must be it.

  As he made his way back to town, the dusk was settling, and by now his burglary victims would probably be missing some of their stuff. It was best he laid low for a while - the last thing he needed was to be pulled over by Anderson or one of his gormless Deputies with all this stuff in his car. There was no way to explain that away. The only positive was things were still crazy and the sheriff’s office was bound to still be completely occupied with the clouds for the time being.

  It was full dark soon and Clinton saw on the hill that the lights were on up at Shaker’s bar. Was he open? It didn’t seem likely, but then his eyes were telling him it was open. He swung the car up the side road and came to a halt
outside.

  There were six cars already parked on the dirt track that served as the car park for the bar. One of them belonged to Danny Putch, and on recognising this, something twinged at the back of Clinton’s neck and a hand went there absently. He turned and looked at the few items strewn about the back seat and floor of the car. Danny would like to see this haul, wouldn’t he? The idea crossed his mind like a persuasive voice.

  Getting out of the car, Clinton caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

  “Man, you look like shit,” he grinned. He felt the bristled growth of hair on his chin and it felt a couple of days old on his fingertips.

  The air was cool on the short walk to the bar. Clinton gazed out over the lake as he approached the building, recalling the vision of the clouds. When he got to Pa’s diversion, he looked up to the substance on the roof, the one that had killed that idiot the other night. It looked harmless now.

  When he pushed open the door and entered the bar, all eyes fell on Clinton, but he only saw those of Pa Shaker, and he saw the bar owner’s face cloud over at the sight of him. Without stopping, Clinton looked around the room as the people there turned back to one another to continue their conversations.

  “Don’t make any trouble here tonight, Scarrow,” Pa grumbled, “I’m not in the mood for it.”

  “Neither is anyone else by the look of it,” Clinton sneered, glancing around again. He nodded to Danny, who raised his glass in return. “Man, it’s quiet in here.” Clinton said.

  “The juke box takes dimes,” Pa said as he started pulling a beer for the newcomer.

  “You know, Pa,” Clinton said as he dipped a hand into his pocket and rummaged for change, “that’s not a bad idea at all.”

  Taking out a handful of change, he then walked to the jukebox, dropped in a load of coins and started putting some songs on the waiting list. The jukebox fired up to the first song while he put in the selections for the rest. There would be ten songs coming on, but he didn’t intend to be around for most of them.

  “Where’ve you been all day?” Danny asked as Clinton sat down and took his beer in his hand.

  “Out lookin’ at the mess this town has become in only two days!” He laughed as he spoke.

  “Not many around think it as funny as you do,” Pa said leaning on the bar and pushing his face closer to Clinton who had to fight the urge not to punch the older man.

  Instead, Clinton sat back and grinned meanly before downing his whole beer in nearly one go. He slapped the glass down on the counter and got to his feet. As he went to put his hand back in for some money, Pa said,

  “I’m not taking money for anything this evening.” Clinton was surprised, but it didn’t matter all that much to him. If Pa wanted to lose money, that was his business.

  “Where you going?” Danny asked Clinton. “You just got here.”

  “Come on outside to my car when you finish your drink. I want to show you something,” Clinton whispered and then he left without a glance or a word towards anyone else.

  About five minutes passed before Danny came out of the bar. Clinton saw him look around and knew Danny didn’t want to be out here. There was a moment of relief on his face when he thought Clinton had driven off somewhere, but it dropped when Clinton called out,

  “Hey, down here.” Danny looked into the dark shadows under the trees and saw him. He ambled down the slope to the car,

  “What are you parking down here for?” Danny asked, “There’s loads of room right up near the door.” He pointed as though Clinton wouldn’t know what he was talking about.

  “I got some stuff in the car I don’t want people passing by to see. Especially if that person is from the Sheriff’s Office,” Clinton answered.

  “What are you talking about?” Danny shifted uneasily and looked around, like he was now in trouble himself even though he knew he hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “Take a look for yourself,” Clinton said, pulling open one of the back doors and standing aside. Danny looked at the open door and then to Clinton who nodded back to the car. Danny took a step closer; he looked like a man walking carefully on the edge of some towering precipice.

  “What is it?” he said again.

  “Will you just look!” Clinton said angrily, “What the hell is wrong with you? Do you think a tiger or something is going to jump out of the car and eat you if you look inside!”

  “Alright!” Danny said, flustered, “I’m looking, I’m looking!” He took a couple of more steps and bent over to peer inside. He saw the gleam of something as his eyes started to adjust and then the items started to come into focus.

  The car could only barely be seen from the doorway of Shaker’s Bar, and the music coming from the jukebox meant no one inside heard Danny’s cries as he was shoved into the back of the car and Clinton Scarrow came in after him. The car rocked about on the gravel and muffled screams came from within.

  Then the night was quiet again, save the music from Shaker’s subdued bar going out over the lake and off into the night.

  Chapter 16

  All of the dogs were still fine in the morning, not one of them showing any adverse effects in the slightest. It was good news, and when Anderson hung up the phone after talking to Doc Hanrahan, he decided to put his next idea into place. He called Joe Jenner, the head of the local volunteer firefighters, and asked him to have a hose set up down by the shore to try to dislodge one of these hardened clouds from a tree. That would be the first test to see how strong they were and hopefully lead to a way of getting rid of them all over town.

  An hour later, the fire truck was on the grass by the shore of Lake Clear, and about twenty onlookers stood around at a close proximity. Anderson looked at them with dismay; he’d not told anyone about his plan except Joe and Deputy Sanders, but he’d neglected to tell them not to tell anyone. Anderson had been foolish enough to think they’d know that without being told. Now there was going to be an audience if this didn’t work, and that would only spread more fear in town.

  It would be too much to ask them to leave, they would know what he was about, but in the interest of public safety, he decided to ask the civilians to move back a fair distance.

  “It’s for your own safety, people!” Anderson called out as he backed everyone up, “We don’t know what might fly off the cloud or where it might go!” This got them moving.

  Going back to Joe, Anderson said,

  “Okay, give it all you got.”

  “You better put this on first,” Joe said, handing him a helmet with a face guard over it. Anderson put it on happily. Joe had one last look around to make sure everyone was clear and then turned on the water and aimed the hose at the hard cloud on the bark of a tree overhanging the lake.

  The water started to trickle out and then, as the other fire department volunteers pumped it, erupted into a strong, heavy stream. Joe brought the hose under control and hit the cloud. It didn’t make any difference, so he took five measured steps closer and shouted for the men to pump harder. They did, and the gush increased.

  Anderson watched the cloud intensely and then he was sure he saw some part of it come off and fall to the lake water below. He took a step closer and watched, and now he was sure pieces were falling down like hard rain and splashing below. It was working! He looked to Joe and gave him a thumbs up and then looked back to the cloud. Something was wrong.

  It wasn’t the cloud that was coming apart, but the bark of the tree falling loose and the branch beginning to disintegrate under the pressure.

  “Hold up!” Anderson shouted, putting a hand in the air and walking slowly forward. The firemen all stopped what they were doing and exchanged glances and shrugs before looking to see what the Sheriff was up to.

  Anderson came close to the branch, what was left of it anyway, and took off the mask. The crystalline formation was undamaged - the water didn’t look to have made a single dent in the surface.

  “Shit,” he muttered, the hope of an easy clean-up gone. Joe came
up beside him.

  “What’s up, Sheriff?” he asked, looking at the cloud.

  “The tree is getting all smashed up, but this thing,” he waved at the cloud, “is undamaged!” Joe looked closer (he was still behind his face mask).

  “You see that?” he said. “It looks like the water is inside it.” Anderson leaned in to look where Joe pointed, and sure enough it looked like there was water in there, zipping around like blood through the circulatory system.

  But something wasn’t right. He felt it before he saw it.

  “That stuff is white,” he said to Joe, “and it’s not just foam or bubbles.” Joe didn’t have any comment to make on this. Anderson was right and he didn’t need the fireman to tell him that.

  The sound of a car trundling over the grass captured Anderson’s attention and he glanced around to see the mayor’s car arriving. He sighed. What was Allgood going to have to say now?

  “Thanks for trying, Joe,” he said, taking a few steps towards the now parking car.

  Allgood got out, and his lapdog, Gough, got out of the driver's seat and rushed around to his side.

  “How’d you get on?” Allgood asked, looking past Anderson to the still intact cloud. The mayor was smiling as ever, but Gough had on the look of a man who was really pissed off.

  “It didn’t work,” Anderson said, “Not even a mark, but we did just see that there is something moving around inside this one, some kind of liquid.”

  “Well, we don’t have to worry about it ourselves anymore,” Allgood said, his demeanour changing, a look of worried apprehension coming over his face.

  “Why is that?” Anderson asked.

  “Two scientists from the state capital are due to arrive later today. They’re going to take over and tell us what it is.” Gough said this as though it was sparing his boss having to. Anderson could only see this as positive news.