6: Hell Hops
into Town
St. Jim’s is a small town built at
the base of the mountains at the north-eastern end of Hoo-Doo County. Early
settlers to the region built homes and businesses along the popular trade route
which followed the Merwin River down from the Hoo-Doo Mountains to where it
meets the Palouse River. They used trees they logged from the unnaturally thick
evergreen forest which grew up the side of the mountain range. As they clear
cut their way up the side of the mountain people bought the cleared land at
discount prices and built affordable housing to settle their families in.
Within a few years the town reached up from the valley floor into a mushroom
shaped cluster of houses and businesses all surrounded by the dense forest.
Gold, and all the promises its mere
presence whispers, was discovered to the south, and the town’s population
suffered accordingly. Those who stayed behind continued to farm the land and
log the mountains but over time the region, and all the towns scattered
throughout it, were rumored cursed after winters cold enough to freeze cattle
to death in barns followed summers burning too hot and fast to produce valuable
crops continually sent people fleeing.
After what is commonly referred to
as the ‘Last Nasty Winter’ (the winter of 32, spring of 33) by locals and
historians alike the quadruple average snow fall melted freakishly quick,
forcing the Merwin to swell and flood the lower portion of St. Jim’s. The waters rose quickly overnight, drowning
over one hundred people in the freezing snowmelt as the sun was rising.
Eventually the flood waters receded leaving a devastated town in its wake. All
of the buildings in lower St. Jim’s were damaged by the flood, those which
didn’t crumble on their own where brought down by the cleanup crews from the
local logging company Kambitch Brothers.
Again, the land was offered cheap,
and, again, it was purchased and settled quickly. Rather than rebuild the lower
half of the town farmers planted fields down the rolling foothills all the way
to the banks of the murderous Merwin River. These new crops grew well enough to
support the now smaller, easier to manage, town. Bold famers cut into the
forests surrounding the town, finding the soil on the back side of several
ridges to be very fertile and easy to farm. These successful farms brought more
industry which in turn brought more people.
So came the second breath of life
to the town.
Now, as the swarm darkens the sky
it begins its second death rattle.
Moses Richardson is first to
witness the swarm of mutant grasshoppers as he is perched at the highest point
in the town, the top of the town hall tower, but as he is not the smartest or
cleverest man at all he can’t think of a way to alert anyone of its arrival. The
sky tints black with shimmering purple as the swarm descends, and Moses
scampers back and forth on the tower’s small ledge panicking to his core. Moses
doesn’t own a cell phone, or even a home phone for that matter, but he knows
his boss Carl would know what to do and who to call. So Moses screams for his
boss in as loud a voice as his husky vocal cords can muster. During his
frightened excitement Moses inadvertently bumps the ladder he used to shimmy up
to the tower. The ladder falls with a metallic clatter to the roof below him,
and Moses bellows for Carl in a voice wet with fear.
Moses is older than Carl, he
doesn’t know by how much because he doesn’t know how old he is. Carl is his
boss and best friend. Carl runs the town’s maintenance crew, and Moses is his
dedicated right hand man. What old Moses lacks in smarts, for he is certainly a
simple man, he more than makes up for with his positive attitude, strong work
ethic, and eagerness to please. Moses has known Carl for as long as he could
remember, though his memories are always warped and unreliable, streaked with
vibrant colors which frighten Moses and render recalling memories or engaging
in deep thought strenuous and terrifying. Even now, Moses lives in a
single-wide trailer Carl let him put down in the back end of his six hillside
acres. Over his many years in the town of St. Jim’s a great deal of the
families took him in from time to time, and he has spent his years repaying the
town and its people for their kindness to him.
Moses’s daddy left the summer
before the Last Bad Winter and the resulting murderous flood from its freeze.
His momma swore up and down, and to Jesus and everything, that daddy done went
of chasing gold in Californ-y streams. But Moses swore up and down, and to
Jesus and everything, he watched his daddy wander off towards Tree Horn Ridge,
which Mrs. Simpson from next door had kindly answered him when he asked, was
not in the same direction as Californ-y. Moses knew the ridge because his daddy
would take him hiking on it almost every day. Even as a small child the ridge,
however beautiful and serene, filled Moses with a sense of dread which was near
as strong as the wonderment his daddy felt for the mountainside. Moses used to
be able to remember toddling after his daddy over and around logs, down slick
narrow paths and up steep jagged cliff-sides chasing something his daddy could
never really explain to his young simple son. His daddy would talk funny out on
the ridge, non-sense and babble talk that Moses still hears in his frequent
nightmares. Daddy would take little Moses camping along the ridge-line
sometimes, staying out for days at a time and coming home to an irritated
momma. It didn’t matter how mad momma got because daddy couldn’t stay away from
the ridge, couldn’t let his search relent, and he would be gone again. Daddy
said it was out there somewhere, and
he’d find it one day and bask in a
rainbow of powerful lights. Moses always figured daddy to be standing
somewhere, smiling as colors wash over him instead of kneeling in a cold creek
panning for gold. Still, when momma said daddy went chasing gold rush streams
Moses kept his little opinion to himself for he loathed upsetting his momma.
His momma had a taste for a strong
medicine she’d get from the Chinese who emptied the outhouses and ran the
laundry. A taste so intense she imbibed heavily before, during and after her
pregnancy with Moses. He couldn’t understand the ramifications of the liquid
she’d drip into her water, and he though her dulled senses and glossy eyes her
natural state of being. Her little amber-colored bottle was empty and Moses
couldn’t wake her up where she slept pale-faced on the couch the morning of the
Great Flood. Mr. Simpson from next door carried him out of the house over his broad
shoulders, the tears leaking down the old lumberjack’s cheeks in no way born of
the small boy’s fists and feet as he thrashed for his momma. Momma wouldn’t
wake up and those freezing waters rose up and swallowed her while the kind
loving Simpsons dragged him kicking and screaming to safety. They couldn’t bury
momma because the receding waters took her away and left their old house empty
and water-damaged beyond repair. Moses lived with the Simpsons until old-age
claimed them both, and other families were always there to take him in when he
needed a place to sleep and food in his belly. He was treated like a son the
whole town shared, and loved despite his imbecilic nature. Over the years he
has outlived all those who once knew first-hand of his sad past, until Moses
became the oldest living person in St Jim’s and isn’t even aware of it.
Now, the spry old Moses has no
other words other than Carl’s screeched name as he watches the swarm descend on
the unsuspecting town as people bustle about. He slaps his leathery hands on
the side of the wooden tower, and hears the heavy thudding echoing throughout
the floor below. Moses can see four colossal black grasshoppers, each bigger
than the work truck Moses and Carl spend their days in, and countless other
black hoppers from the size of cats to the size of golf carts, crawling all
over down below him while the air turns thick with an incredible number of the
normal summer grasshoppers. The larger hoppers smash into cars and buildings,
shattering windows with their hardened exoskeletons and allowing others to leap
through. From all directions screams rise on the early morning air up to
Moses’s ears.
From his precarious perch Moses
watches a group of men in front of the hardware store do battle with a group of
black grasshoppers with rakes and shovels. The young muscled clerk Moses
recognizes as one of St Jim’s football heroes from a few years ago manages to
impale a fiercely clicking hopper with a pitchfork. One prong still wrapped tin
the manufacturer’ s sticker stabs through twitching insect dripping orange
slime. Next to him, two other men beat a grasshopper nearly as big as them with
a shovel and a gardening hoe until they smash through smooth black exoskeleton
and splatter bright orange grasshopper guts all over themselves and the street
they battle in. The tide turns in the blink of an eye when the ex-football hero
is tackled into eternity by one of the colossal giants. The other men rally
against the monster but are torn into bloody chunks by the smaller hoppers the
moment they turn their attention to it.
A drunk man who Moses recognizes as
Tanner Webber runs in an erratic zig-zag pattern down the middle of Main
Street, fleeing a grasshopper the size of an elk and half blinded by the
six-inch beasties chewing at his face. The milk delivery truck from Hopkin’s
Dairy careens around the corner and Tanner is dragged under its wheels when
their zig-zagging paths collide in the middle of the street. The truck bumps
obscenely and leaves a wide bloody smear in its wake. Tanner’s mangled corpse
flops away from the milk truck as it banks hard to the left and crashes into
the post office where it explodes in grand fashion belching boiling milk and
shards of glass onto the people standing nearby.
The four biggest black grasshoppers
throw their heavy bodies against the buildings downtown, reducing the brick and
wooden buildings to rubble. People try to flee the crumbling structures only to
be violently devoured in the street by the other hoppers. The Main Street Bar begins crumbling and a
flood of people who had sought refuse within scampers back out into the
confusion and carnage. Moses watches a heavyset woman with bright blue curlers
in her hair get torn in half by two six-foot grasshoppers in a primal display
of greed which spills her sloppy innards all over the thousands of small
hoppers crawling across the blood streaked asphalt. The smaller grasshoppers
are scampering all over the ruins of the once fine buildings, feasting on
survivors and leaving a multitude of tiny bloody tracks over the wreckage.
Moses watches another one of the
four giants smash into a school bus, tipping it on its side and allowing the
smaller hoppers to attack. Tears form and slip down his weathered cheeks as he
hears thin, terrified, high-pitched screams cut short. Moses jerks his
attention from the horrors of Main Street, and nearly swoons and slips from the
tower when he realizes the carnage has already spread throughout town. He
clutches tight to the tower, his eyes closed against the horrors below but the
sounds of random gunfire, harrowing screams, tires screeching, vehicles
colliding and exploding all still assault his ears as tears continue to stream
down into his own bushy beard. He wagers a look back out over the town through
blurry eyes and aside from the brilliant splashes of crimson coloring the
street below he sees pillars of smoke are reaching into the morning sky from
all over town. The people of St. Jim’s are dying terribly and there is nothing
Moses can do to help them all.
The grasshoppers’ song rings
through the air, muffling the screams, and Moses can’t help but think of his
daddy, though he doesn’t know why now of all times the old scoundrel would
enter his panicked thoughts. Before he has time to get lost in his jittery
confusing memories Moses hears the familiar squeak of the window below
signaling Carl’s return. Relief flushes Moses’s face and he slaps the wooden
walls excitedly, unable to form words to express his rampaging emotions.
“What is all the racket out here,
Moses?” Carl asks as he pops his round face out of the window below.
Moses finally finds another word.
“Grasshoppers!”
“Jeez, old boy, I’m talking about
all the crashing and booming and shooting I’m hearing not the insect
situation!” Carl’s good-natured tone sounds a little shaky to Moses, the slight
tremble in his tone still evident when he notices the ladder Moses tipped over.
He wiggles his rotund form through the tower window to flop onto the easy
sloped town hall roof top. He stands next to the ladder and looks up at Moses
with a gentle smirk. “Holy shit, Moses, are you stuck up there?”
Moses leans over the edge to stare
down at Carl with his bloodshot eyes and tear-dampened cheeks. Next to Carl is
the ladder Moses tipped, and just behind Carl Moses sees the townspeople he so
loves being slaughtered ruthlessly in the street and in their homes. His answer
comes in a hot flood of shouted words and ends choked with emotion.
“I am stuck up here, Carl! But it
don’t matter none, ‘cause giant grasshoppers are eating everyone in town! I
know that sounds like crazy-people talk, but I been watching some terrible things,
Carl.”
Carl looks up at Moses with a look
of uncertainty shaping his jovial features. He opens his mouth to say something
but a sudden loud, scraping, crash births a huge fireball above one of two of
the gas stations in town. Carl curls into a ball at the force of the explosion
and the sound reverberation that pounds the morning air and rattles his teeth.
He slowly faces the direction of the explosion and sees the sky blackened above
the flames consuming the east side of St. Jim’s. He steps on wobbly legs to
edge of the roof top so he can look down at the carnage below for the first
time.
People Carl has always known are be
chased up the street and overtaken by the mutated grasshopper and torn to wet
ribbons of quivering flesh. Buildings Carl remembers from his childhood have
instantly been reduced to smoking, blood-smeared ruins lining the gore speckled
road. Cars and trucks are colliding with each as they try to flee the carnage
engulfing the town. Carl watches the
bright yellow Toyota driven by one of the town mechanics, Stanley Ray, slam on
its brakes right in the middle of Main Street when two of the giants block its
path. Carl waves his arms over his head while screaming Stanley’s name, but
before Stanley possibly has a chance to look up at his panicked friend a dozen
giant black hoppers are crawling all over the truck and muffling the screams
within.
Moses can’t handle watching
Stanley’s terrible demise, so he turns away and looks away from town. His
blurry eyes notice the shape of an old man walking down the road into town from
the directions the grasshoppers came from. The old man’s beard is as long and
gnarled as Moses’s childhood, and as crimson as the blood-stained road. The
carnivorous grasshoppers leap all around him, but none attack him. Something
stirs deep within Moses’s very core, when the old man begins shouting. The
crimson-bearded interloper doesn’t manage any actual words, but the long-string
of gibberish he screams at the grasshoppers echoes within Moses’s skull and
injects his already rolling stomach with an eerie sense of dread. The sound of
the ladder slamming against the ledge breaks Moses’s stare from the red-bearded
old man and returns it to Carl’s pale frightened, pale face below.
“We gotta do something, Moses. It’s
bad down there. Everyone I’ve ever known is being ate up by giant grasshoppers.
Oh, no, Sadie and the girls…oh, Jesus…”
Moses reaches for the ladder, but
it lifts away before he can grab it. He leans over the edge to see Carl put it
back down where it was.
“Carl?”
“Sorry, Moses, but you’ll be safe
up there. Safest place in town. I gotta go get Sadie and the girls, and I’m
bringing them back here. We’ll wait it out together, okay, Moses. Stay put, old
fella.”
Before Moses can protest, Carl is
ducked back through the window and running through town hall. The old man in
the street shouts again, and even without facing him the gibberish rings within
Moses’s head. The sensation is personal and offensive and draws his eyes back
to the horrible scene below in the street.
The red-bearded old man points at a
station wagon parked in front of the ruins of the bank while screaming his wild
babble. A cluster of black hoppers leaps where he points, crawling over, under
and into the vehicle. As the mutant insects go under the car two humans, a man
and a woman, scamper out from hiding to escape them. A black hopper leaps from
the dented crater it created on the car’s hood to the man’s chest. He huffs,
red-faced, at it. It gnashes forward and rips his throat out with clicking
mandibles. The woman turns on the red-bearded old man and screams at him.
Moses’s squinting eyes see a smile
worm its way onto the old man’s oddly familiar face, and his eyes glow strange
neon colors like a cartoon. A grasshopper the size of a bear leaps right past
the old man and smashes the woman into the passenger-side of the station wagon
she had been hiding under. With the force of impact bone cracks and splinters,
glass shatters, metal creaks and bends. The giant hopper jumps away, leaving
the woman to slip slowly to a heap in the street just barely obscured from
Moses’s view. The red-bearded old man screams and points at her fallen body and
more black hoppers respond. A fine mist of blood in the air and sprayed across
the destroyed station wagon signals her end.
Moses throws up his breakfast over
the edge of the tower, and has to hold tight and fight the sway he feels
coming. He screams with all his will for Carl. The, he screams for his daddy
without knowing why.
Far below him, the double doors at
the rear of town hall are thrown open as Carl bolts through the parking lot
towards his own town-issued work truck. Before he reaches it one of the four
largest hoppers smashes it to shards of metal and plastic. The colossal monster
hunches down and hisses at Carl.
“Run Carl!” Moses screams down at
his dear friend.
Moses’s panicked cry breaks Carl
from his fear-frozen state, and he darts around the side of town hall towards
the Clem Chem Co. gas station across the street. As Carl runs black grasshoppers
leap at him, but he ducks and rolls managing to only get a few deep, but not
lethal scratches across his back and legs as he crosses the street. As he
reaches the front row parking, the colossal hopper that destroyed Carl’s work
truck smashes into a fully-loaded Kambitch Brothers Logging truck, forcing the
eighteen-wheeler into the gas pumps. Carl sees a dozen pale faces staring at
him from behind the plate glass seconds before fire erupts behind him and
consumes him and everything in his world.
Moses watches the massive fireball
swallow Carl, the group of black hoppers chasing him, and the crowded gas
station in the time it takes for him to bellow Carl’s name one last time. Surely
Carl couldn’t hear Moses’s bellowing through the roaring of the flames eating
him, but the red-bearded old man turns his strange rainbow gaze up to Moses on
his perch. Moses feels caught in the strange gaze as a whirlwind of blurry neon
memories whiplashes his simple terrified mind. While staring down at the old
man with the crimson beard tears start leaking down Moses’s cheeks again. He
can’t pull his eyes away, and when the red-bearded old man starts whispering
his odd gibberish again Moses hears it as if he is shouting it directly into
his ears. The tears slipping down Moses’s cheek which don’t soak into the gray
of his beard drip down to land on his hand clutched white-knuckle tight to the
ledge. While Moses is in a fear trance, his trembling hand slips on the
tear-slick wood.
With the red-bearded old man’s
haunting babble echoing in his head, Moses pitches headfirst off of the ledge.
He falls the seven feet to the roof and lands with a sickening crack. The last
sensation Moses is aware of in his body is a tight painful pinching and then
all-consuming numbness. His eyes dart back and forth as his limp body begins
slipping down the roof’s slight incline. He whimpers weakly but can do nothing
to slow his descent down the slope. He reaches the edge, and falls the three
stories to the ground; a helpless blurry tumble ending in another hard awkward
landing. Moses hears many of his bones break upon impact but he feels nothing
below his neck. As simple as his mind may be, Moses knows his neck is broken
and he knows what that means. Blood trickles of his nose when he exhales, and
the smells of burning death and spilt blood reach up his nostrils and rape his
dead gag reflex when he inhales.
Moses stares helplessly ahead as
the red-bearded old man staggers into his line of sight. The old hermit points
at Moses and screeches his gibberish in a tone which inflicts as my pain inside
Moses’s head as the fall did to his body. A black grasshopper as big as Moses
climbs on top of chest, chattering and clicking excitedly. Moses doesn’t feel
anything, but as he body is jerked and shook by the beast he realizes with
hellish clarity he is being eaten alive. His own warm sticky blood sprays Moses
in his face but he can’t take his eyes of the red-bearded old man. As his life
slips away Moses sees everything the Corn-Eater sees, he knows what happened to
his long-lost daddy, and he weeps at the beauty of the rainbows his world
explodes into.
Next 'episode' posts up Friday, April 4th
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