What Lurks Between - A SciFi/Horror Novella - Part Twenty-Six

A big train crash looks like it might have done for the monster. But did it?

Let’s find out!

Artwork copyright Revensis and Mikhail Matsonashvili, licensed through Dreamstine

What Lurks Between - Part Twenty-Six

It was like a scene from a nightmare.

The emergency lights only gave partial illumination, leaving most of the shattered train shrouded in shadow. Up ahead somewhere, a fire burned; not large, but enough to provide a flickering yellow-orange glow to the scene that was positively eerie. An occasional electric arc, from the third rail or from some shorted system within the train or in one of the shattered lighting assemblies in the tunnel, provided the final visual accent. The stench of ozone and dust filled the air, and above it a charred smell like rancid meat that had been left on a barbecue overnight.

And then there were the sounds of the passengers. Many more of them now that the initial shock had worn off. The groans and cries of the injured. The shouts and pleas for help from the panicked. And, in ones and twos, calmer voices from the few who had kept their wits about them and were trying to get the others organized, or at least to prevent them from panicking completely.

In all, Hollywood could not have done a better job if they were trying to make a scene to scare me out of my wits. Knowing that there really were injured people ahead, and maybe still the bunny monster itself, just made it worse.

I shivered, and not from cold; it was actually quite warm. Again I had the urge just to get back on the walkway and cruise north, away from the scene.

But I did not. Hand in hand with Sheila, I walked down the tunnel, hugging the gap between the southbound and northbound rails, since most of the train wreckage had ended up nearer the wall with the walkway. And besides, the third rail ran through that central area, and that was where we would find the bunny monster.

Slowly, carefully we picked our way over broken-off pieces of cement and metal, shattered plexiglass from the train’s windows, and the occasional sign or lamp fitting that littered the ground. At one point we had to clamber over an entire wheel assembly that had broken off of one of the train cars.

That was where we saw the first body. An older man, in his late 50s probably, he was pinned beneath the wheel assembly, his face locked into an expression of surprise.

Sheila gasped and turned her head away. I found myself doing the same as sudden guilt rushed through me again. That guy would be alive if it wasn’t for me. I knew it was a lie - it was the bunny monster’s fault, not mine. It had crossed over to our world to wreak havoc, of its own accord. I did not ask it to, and for a while there I was all but helpless to stop it.

“At least he didn’t suffer, looks like.” Sheila looked up at me and squeezed my hand as she spoke, and I could tell she was dealing with some shadow of the same guilt I felt.

I nodded and inhaled deeply, and instantly regretted it as the growing stench of the scene filled my nostrils. Reminding myself to breath through my mouth, I said, “Let’s move.” I tried to sound determined; don’t think I did very well at it.

But Sheila made no comment. She simply turned fully away from the man and led the way further forward along the train.

About twenty meters further, we found it: a great mass of charred and twisted flesh. Or rather, two masses of charred flesh. It had been cleaved in two by the impact with the train and obviously cooked by its contact with the third rail.

“This has to be the beast,” Sheila said. The she coughed and bent over, making little heaves and clutching at her stomach.

I did not blame her. Here, the stench was almost overpowering. Even breathing through my mouth, it was like I could taste it. And that was without trying to talk. I pulled the tatters of my trench coat up over my chin so it covered my mouth and nose, but that did not help much at all. It truly, truly stank.

“Let’s go back,” I said as quickly as I could to avoid getting more of the stench than I had to. But Sheila shook her head.

“We have to be sure.”

She straightened, getting herself back under control, and managed a half-smile that I returned, for all the good it would do with my mouth beneath my shirt. So I just shrugged, which earned a snorted half-laugh from her. Then we both took deep breaths and turned back to the burnt corpse of the bunny monster.

*****

Previous Posts:

1. Part One
2. Part Two
3. Part Three
4. Part Four
5. Part Five
6. Part Six
7. Part Seven
8. Part Eight
9. Part Nine
10. Part Ten
11. Part Eleven
12. Part Twelve
13. Part Thirteen
14. Part Fourteen
15. Part Fifteen
16. Part Sixteen
17. Part Seventeen
18. Part Eighteen
19. Part Nineteen
20. Part Twenty
21. Part Twenty-One
22. Part Twenty-Two
23. Part Twenty-Three
24. Part Twenty-Four
25. Part Twenty-Five

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