The Man from Riverside - Chapter 5
The garden was neat and immaculate, carefully maintained by his lovely wife. The back garden of their house was his wife's pride and joy, ever since she was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease. Dennis never really understood why she took to the garden. Perhaps the doctor said it would help slow the progression, or perhaps she wanted to achieve something before she no longer could.
The midday sun glared down, it was hot and Dennis could feel his skin heating up, sweat beginning to form. He looked over at his two sons playing in the pool under the tree; they were splashing around, laughing. He tried to listen to what they were saying, but he couldn't make it out. He turned back to look at his wife; he called her name, but she didn't turn, she just continued weeding the garden. He walked over to her; it felt like every step was walking through mud. When he reached her, he placed his hand on her shoulder, but she didn't respond and she continued to weed the garden. He crouched down behind her and whispered quietly into her ear.
"I love you."
"I love you too," she said without turning.
"Do you really, sweetheart?"
She turned to face him, her face a pale white and her eyes were almost completely white. Dennis fell backwards in horror, trying to scream, but no sound came out of his mouth. His wife got to her feet and stood over the terrified Dennis flailing on the ground. Her jaw was slack, her mouth wide open but there was nothing but black inside and she stood there limply, in her white and yellow overalls. She began to shuffle slowly towards Dennis, who was crawling backwards along the grass. She spoke, but in a voice that sounded like it was coming from an old radio and her mouth did not move.
"Of course I love you Dennis. I'll always love you."
With each step she took, the grass turned black around her; slowly she gained on him. The sun began to get brighter and brighter, until its glow was enveloping everything and all Dennis could see was blazing white, burning his eyes.
"Agh!"
Dennis raised his hands to block the light from his eyes. He tried to open his eyes, but the room was so bright it was hard to adjust.
"Good afternoon, sunshine."
Dennis looked to see where the voice was coming from, but all he could make out was a shape next to the window, which had been opened to reveal the blazing sun which was the source of his sudden awakening. The voice spoke again,
"Come on, you can't be that tired."
Dennis sat up on the couch and rubbed his eyes. They began to adjust to the light and Dennis could make out the figure as Officer Coleman.
"Hi," Dennis groaned. "What time is it?"
Coleman looked at his watch.
"Almost half-past three in the afternoon."
"Shit!"
Dennis stood up and took a moment to stretch his aches from the couch away.
"I need a phone," Dennis said, rubbing his eyes again.
"There's one in the lobby you can use," Coleman suggested. "I can take you there if you like."
"That would be great, thanks."
Coleman walked over to the fridge and took a can of soda drink out of it. He passed it to Dennis, who took it eagerly and began to guzzle the sweet orange soda. Coleman went out the staff room door, Dennis following right behind.
"Did you sleep well?" Coleman asked.
"Kinda," said Dennis between sips of his drink.
"How did things go with the Sheriff?"
"Well," Dennis paused to try and recall last night's events. "Let's just say his wife played bad cop."
Coleman laughed at this and continued strolling through the station. They quickly came to the front desk where there were two pay phones on the far wall. Coleman stopped and turned to Dennis.
"There you go. You can make your call then I'm taking you to see the sheriff."
"Alright then, thankyou."
Dennis walked over to the pay phone and took his wallet out of his pocket. Dennis fished out a few coins and counted them, a few dollars should be enough to call home for a few minutes. He inserted the coinage and dialled his home phone, waiting patiently as it dialled. He waited and waited, until finally the there was an answer. Dennis pulled the phone away from his ear as a massive thud crackled loudly from the other side. He cautiously put the phone back to his ear and spoke to whoever was on the other end.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
The only answer Dennis got was a moaning and grunting noise. He was confused and becoming worried.
"Hello?" He said louder.
He suddenly heard a familiar scream, similar to what he heard last night. Dennis just listened to the sound; he didn't speak, just listened. Tears began to roll down his cheeks as he slowly hung up the phone, his unused change dropping out of the phone, but Dennis just left it there. He walked over to a bench seat and sat down, head in hands. He wasn't trying to deny what happened, he knew that it had, but he wished he could have been there. Dennis felt a hand on his shoulder, without looking up; he held back the tears and tried to speak as casually as possible.
"Just… just give me a minute."
"Sure," Dennis recognised the voice as Coleman's.
Dennis sat there for several minutes, just trying to come to terms and bury his sadness. Just for now, he needed to compose himself. He finally stood up and wiped his face with his sleeve. Coleman was standing over by the front desk and nodded at Dennis.
"Come on, let's go," Dennis said.
With that, the two men walked out the front door into the bright autumn sun, sitting low over the horizon. Dennis followed the officer to his patrol car and the two men got in, with Dennis taking front passenger seat. Coleman turned to Dennis; he cautiously asked him if he was alright.
"I don't know right now, I think I'll be ok," Dennis muttered quietly.
Coleman started the car and the two men drove for a short while. It was much easier to see the town now that it was daylight and the fog had cleared. It was a quaint little town, but still quite sizable. There were a few people around, collecting groceries among other things. They drove to the opposite side of town where there was an old church opposite a gas station. It looked really old, and some men seemed to be doing some renovations to the front. Coleman pulled up the car in the gas station and got out, Dennis quickly followed. The men walked into the gas station, where Sheriff Michael was eating a packet of crisps.
"There he is!" Michael said with odd delight in his voice. "I was wondering when you were going to wake up."
"Yeah, sorry about that. I must have been absolutely exhausted from last night."
"No worries," Michael placed a large handful of crisps in his mouth. "I need your help," he said between chews.
He realized he was being rude, and offered crisps to Dennis and then Coleman while they waited for him to finish his mouthful. Both men refused.
"Well," chirped Coleman, "I'm going home for a sleep, I'll see you sheriff at about ten?"
Michael nodded. Coleman smiled and turned to Dennis.
"By the way, I've got something for you," he turned and walked off, "I'll be right back."
Dennis went over to a fridge and grabbed a carton of chocolate milk. He walked over to the counter to pay for it, but there was no attendant. Michael finally finished his mouthful of crisps.
"Don't worry about it, Wesley' gone home to be with his family, I asked him to leave the store open for me. I'll have that one and you can grab another one as a freebie."
"Alright then," Dennis said as he went back to the fridge and got another carton.
Both men opened their cartons and took a drink. Michael guzzled almost half the carton before he stopped.
"So, I've got some guys building a barricade on this side of town and I need you to keep them protected while they work."
"Why?" Dennis asked.
"The power tools make a lot of noise, and those things seem attracted to loud noises, not to mention the guys are as skittish as hell."
"No," Dennis interrupted him. "Why are you building a barricade?"
"Oh, well, most of the wanderers have been coming from this end of town, probably because that's the road to the city." Michael paused to take another quick drink. "I'm going to assume there's nothing much left of the city."
Coleman returned, carrying the shotgun that Dennis found the night before.
"You still got some shells?" Coleman asked him.
"Uhh," Dennis felt in his pocket, "Yeah, I still do."
"Great, here you go then. Have fun!" Coleman said with a smile before turning to leave the shop.
Dennis studied the shotgun, trying to remember how Coleman operated it the night before.
"Anyway," Michael interrupted, "You up for it?"
Shotgun in hand, Dennis felt very confident.
"Why not," Dennis said with a smirk. "I've got some issues to sort out with those things."
Michael grinned and took another mouthful of crisps.
"Good man."