Appologies to Rodarian for misspelling your name…and when I said this only had four more chapters to go? Yeah, that was a lie, ten may be closer to the truth. I was being…grossly optimistic. Art of sloth has been put up.
Chapter 31: Blue skies don't stretch forever
Back in the once white car, everything had gone quiet. It had been that way ever since the rusty vehicle had pulled away from the car park out side Roy's dinner, leaving the vacant space to return to its familiar state of abandoned isolation.
However, this time there were only two people in the car.
Jobe gripped the steering wheel as tightly as he could without breaking the very bones in his hands. At least that way, he could keep them from wrapping around Grace's neck and throttling the very life out of her.
'Just don't think about it…'But there was always something that reminded him that the woman was still sitting next to him; even the small sound of her breathing prevented him from getting her both out of sight and mind. Despite keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead in hope that he could at least achieve the former of his two aims, from the corner of his eye he could still see the light tip of her shoe as it rested on the dashboard.
Frustration swelled, and like the taunt skin of a balloon, he could bare it no more.
"How could you do that?"
Grace didn't need to hear the tone in his voice to know he was hankering for an argument, hell, he'd practically been giving off sparks ever since they'd been boxed in this car together.
"Do what?" She drawled, shifting her feet. Grace already knew where this was going but that didn't mean she was going to let Jobe draw any satisfaction from whatever it was he was keeping cooped up inside him.
"Lie like that!" His voice rose, despite whatever attempt he made to keep control of it. Next to him, Grace sat up.
"Oh, and what was I meant to say, huh? I met her while being held hostage by a bed that was trying to eat me?" Jobe opened his mouth, but that was as close as he got to a comeback before Grace steamed on. "Anyways, you didn't have the balls to say anything…at least I did something!"
"For God's sake Grace, you just let them take her!"
"Jobe, there was nothing, and I mean nothing we could've done to stop them without being lugged into the back of that patrol car with her, so quit making out like you're some kind of martyr and let it go."
Jobe remained silent, his jaw jumping as he tried so hard not to see the logic in her argument. Of course, it was impervious to every point he mentally made.
"You didn't have to give them her name…" He muttered darkly. The only retort he could think of sounded fantastically childish in his ears and there was no doubt that Grace was going to make him eat his sullen words. Instead, she sighed with exasperation and gave. A little.
"Alright, I'll admit that was stupid, but how the fuck was I meant to know that cop had known her dad?"
Jobe bit his tongue and sighed, slumping into his seat. Yet again, that uncomfortable silence slowly crept like some lengthening shadow through the car, making even the thought of conversation seem somehow vulgar. The man let his mind turn off and let go as the slow, rhythmic pulses from the overhead neon lamps signalled the ever-nearing civilisation.
He was finally nearing his final destination…or so he thought.
8 8 8
As Jobe drove on to the town he called home, a squad car hurtled down a different stretch of highway to a small, remote (though not nearly as remote as Silent Hill) settlement known as Brahms. Inside this particular car, silence also reigned supreme, but unlike the one shared by Jobe and Grace, this one was far heavier, like that before a gathering storm that threatened to rip the very heavens apart.
The fair haired cop glanced at his broad partner from the corner of his eye, trying to decide if now was the best time to ask the question that had been buzzing inside his head ever since he and his partner had started this journey.
The guy was absolutely bristling, and Eric (the younger) wouldn't be surprised if he started foaming at the mouth any minuet. Oh well, no time like the present…
"What's got you so rattled about this particular…" He paused, searching for the right word. "Vagrant? You haven't said a word since that over-talkative cluts told us her name…" He left the sentence, hoping his superior would be in enough of a collected state of mind to fill the empty space that hung waiting in the air.
Polasiky pushed the gear-stick and the car whined. Eric winced.
"You're probably to young to remember the Orosco case?"
Eric ran through his extensive memory, but drew nothing but a load of blanks from its extensive resources. Next to him, the bear-like man's aura of anxiety began to rapidly wane and conversation began to warm into life.
"Ah, I wouldn't expect you to. It wasn't anything special, just another murder that was never solved and left to gather dust…"
Eric's brows furrowed ever so slightly, but never enough to let an actual wrinkle crease his brow.
"What's that got to do with her?" He jerked his head back, motioning at what lay in the back of the police car, behind the metal grate that separated the two cops from the object of his curiosity.
"Two years ago, I was called out to look in on a Mr. Thomas Orosco. He hadn't turned up at work at the lumber yard for a few days and the neighbours were beginning to worry about all the papers building up on the doorstep."
Polasiky turned to the man next to him a little more, no longer really whatching the empty road with all the attentiveness it demanded. "I won't lie to you, I used to be a friend of the man a long time ago but then the guy's wife split and he just…"
"Went off the rails?" Eric smoothly offered, not needing to see Polasiky nod to know he'd hit the nail on the head.
"You got it in one. Anyway, we fell out of touch after it…you gotta understand," He rushed, a little too eager to fill the space between his words. "The guy was never the same after that."
The younger cop wore an expression of sympathy, but to be honest, he was only bothered to half-listen to his partner's guilt ridden words. It was clear as day that the cop silently blamed himself for whatever happened, and that was all Eric cared about. Why should he feel for some blue-collar bum who couldn't handle a little domestic disturbance? After all, Eric saw himself as nothing less than a professional. A like any professional who may have found themselves in his current situation, he wanted nothing more than to know what this potentially lethal psycho (who, judging from the way she went for him, was in dire need of a rabies shot) was doing in the back of their car.
Hopefully he wasn't going to have to put up with this 'heart warming' drivel for much longer…
"I knew something was wrong, even before it was plain as day none was going to answer the door…it was just a vibe, you know?"
"So what did you do?" Eric asked in hope it would inspire his superior to get to the heart of the matter. Quickly.
"Well, I let myself in, and, sweet Jesus, it was the worst damn thing I've ever smelt. I found him in the front room and…" Polasiky choked, as it the phantom stench of slowly turning flesh had found his nose once again. Eric looked on, uncaring as the man shook his head, trying to rid it of whatever macabre image he had uncovered upon entering the Orosco household that yet again flashed in his mind's eye. "My god, someone had butchered the poor man"
"That fucker deserved it…" A voice hissed from the back of the squad car with a tongue so cold, ice would never melt on it. Just the sound of it manipulating the air made Polasiky shiver.
"What is it?" Eric asked, for once with genuine concern.
"Did she just…" He let the sentence die on seeing the blank look in his partners face and sunk somewhat stiffly back into his seat. "Never mind, I-I must be hearing things…"
Polasiky went on to explain how the forensic results had come back, conforming that D.N.A of his daughter had been found both on his body and at the scene of the crime but, miraculously, she'd somehow managed to disappeared into thin air just before people began to notice the lack of Thomas's presence and vanished without a trace.
To say all this was coincidence would be illogical by any standards and the somewhat lax police force had been more than happy to lay the blame at the now missing girl's feet. After all, it would save a hell of a lot of their time and effort to do so. Also, if the truth be told, none gave a damn about the not so tragic death of one, insignificant drunkard who's demise would be briefly mourned by over-sentimental fools like Polasiky and then forgotten.
Eric sat in quiet contemplation as Polasiky wrapped up the story, mulling over the details and taking time to analyse each and every one.
"So you're trying to tell me that this is his daughter?"
His partner snorted, chewing all the more violently on the wad of gum that had made its way into his mouth over the course of lengthy recital, bearing the brunt of his poorly disguised frustration.
"Well the damn name fits, don't it?"
In the back of the car, the girl we have come to know as Virgil sat, letting the words that volleyed between the two men float over her head. Whatever delirium had fuelled her earlier rage had fizzled out, leaving her empty and spent. Listlessly, she stared out the window, every now and again recognising a minor landmark that identified the murky town that had suddenly sprouted outside the window she stared dejectedly out of as the one Angela called home once upon a time.
She smiled crookedly; that all seemed like such a long time ago, however, her geography of the town wasn't so rusty that she couldn't foresee where the police car was ultimately heading. If she remembered correctly, they'd be at the 'hospital' in a matter of minuets.
Whatever Polasiky and his partner had been discussing in the front was quickly silenced as the thing that resided in the darkness behind them began to laugh…
8 8 8
The rusty car's engine died abruptly as Jobe eased the key from the ignition and closed his eyes, basking in the quiet solitude. He'd dropped Grace off at an insignificant motel that resided near the town's border, it seemed fitting since the woman insisted she had nowhere to go and very little money to get there. Jobe, still feeling the fool for trying to blame her for his heavy conscious didn't pry and put some money towards one of the cheap and equally insignificant rooms. Grace didn't complain. Hell, after running around Silent Hill for little less than a day, even this badly kept motel was like a country manner compared to that godless town.
"It was nice to meet you…" She'd started as Jobe began to walk away from the cabin like room that the woman could temporally call home. "But next time, let try and do it somewhere that isn't so crazy."
Despite the sincerity of her words, neither truly believed this meeting would ever take place. Grace flashed on last smile at Jobe before closing the door on him for what both of them thought would be forever.
In the car, Jobe shuddered, but not because the ancient heater had finally given out, singing its frosty swan song with blasts of cold air. Rather, it was at the memory of just how tiered and haggard that parting smile had looked on Grace's face, as if it took some phenomenal mixture of all the will and fleeting strength in her body to pull it off. For it was in the harsh, neon light that radiated coldly from the room that framed her, Jobe had only just noticed how waxen and ill the woman looked. He wondered if the town had somehow left its mark on Grace, prematurely rotting her like neglected fruit and shivered again at the thought.
If it could do that to her, then what could it have done to him?
Jobe tore himself from the car, slamming the door shut behind him before the morbid thought could tumble out after him. Pulling yet another set of keys from the sanctuary of a buttoned down pocket, Jobe raced up the steps of the apartment building he'd parked outside and, ignoring the nonexistent sounds of his turmoil thoughts scraping on the glass window of the car, baying for his attention with plaintive mews, he fumbled with the lock.
'It's over…'He couldn't shut the door behind him fast enough, breaking away from it immediately as he lurched along the hallway, dragging the broken leg behind him. He didn't even allow himself to think as yet again he fiddled with the key ring, seemingly numb to the rest of the world as he closed in on the room he called home.
He opened the door and when his eyes fell upon the familiar setting, all the emotions he'd been holding together throughout this entire, horrific odyssey finally broke free and effortlessly swallowing the man.
Julia emerged from some deeper point of the apartment they shared in time to see her boy-friend slump down to the floor, already weeping tears born of pain, fear and sorrow.
However, though made up from all these bitter ingredients, they were mostly tears of joy.
