CHAPTER FOUR
There was nothing but darkness. After a time a vague murmur of engrossed and hassled voices began to fade into earshot. Then came the pain - excruciating, deliberate, searing agony that enveloped all of the great void. Until finally a brilliant white light ignited into existence, appearing from the midst of the darkness, quickly consuming everything in sight. At that exact point Yankee woke with an aggressive jolt, followed almost immediately by his brother. They were sweating profusely, both looked pale and sick, panting hard, desperately trying to catch their breath, which, for some unknown reason, had escaped them. Yankee rubbed his head repeatedly, clearly in a great deal of pain.
‘Jeez, my head feels like it’s in a vice!’ he uttered, clutching at it like a football.
‘Me too, bro,’ added Doodle in a wounded voice, looking utterly dazed.
They were in the same spots they had fallen asleep in, but something was very wrong indeed. Yankee looked around the room, confused, but the worrying truth was clear - the area was empty. The fire was still roaring away, and the chaise longue was still in its resting place, right by the warmth of the flames. But Charlie, Billy and Specks were not where they had left them.
‘What the hell?’ he remarked, bouncing to his feet.
‘What’s up?’ contributed his brother, all too pathetically, dragging himself up on Yankee’s uniform, barely managing to remain on his feet.
Yankee brushed him off and marched across the room to where the men should have been - they were definitely gone. He picked up a couple of pillows, as if expecting to see them somehow hiding underneath. He was of course wrong.
‘Where the hell’s the Captain?’ fumbled Doodle, who was stumbling behind his brother and holding his head in his hands.
Yankee rushed over to his weapons and snatched them up. He checked his pistol, submachine gun and rifle, before chucking his brother’s to him - he did not catch them, instead scrabbling around the floor trying to pick the things up, dizzy and drunk-like as he moved. Moments later they were in the hallway, locked, loaded, and ready to go - but ready to go where?
‘Right, we gotta find the guys,’ began Yankee, who was turning around repeatedly, trying to figure out which direction to head. Doodle dashed over, and began copying his brother. ‘If one of them had wondered off, I might understand,’ continued Yankee, who stopped his spinning and took a few steps towards the two staircases, studying them curiously. Doodle stopped his own spinning and walked over to Yankee, swaying from side to side as he went, far too giddy to keep up with his older brother, and looking like he may well be sick. ‘Two, maybe. But all three? No way. I don’t buy it. Not on my watch. Not in my town. Not for one second,’ he said, rubbing his chin and doing his best to imitate Charlie’s fine example of leadership. ‘Especially with Specks in his condition. Nope. This smells bad to me.’ Doodle sniffed the air, unable to keep up or make sense of what his brother was suggesting. ‘If you ask me… they’ve been taken.’
‘Damn straight,’ added Doodle, in a feeble attempt to contribute. ‘Now let’s split up. We’ll cover more ground that way.’ He went to dash off, but barely got three steps away before Yankee pulled him straight back.
‘Are you insane?’ Yankee flicked Doodle right in the centre of the forehead, emphasising his question. ‘This ain’t some five cent flick where we split up and get taken out one by one by some tacky monster! Whilst some cheap dame screams for her needless rescue! You get me?’
‘So what do you suggest?’ asked Doodle.
A few minutes later Yankee and Doodle pushed their way through the house. Yankee led the way, his sharp eyes searching as they moved deeper into the mansion, a candle in his hand, dimly lighting the rooms they passed through, whilst Doodle followed, still shaking off his dizzy head, with a pistol in his trembling hand, just in case. They had decided to search downstairs, as that had seemed the least creepy option of the three. Room by room they went, faced with the same situation with each door - a dark and ominous room, with daunting high ceilings, peeling wallpaper, sinister looking paintings and incredibly grand yet rather eerie features decorating the room. So far, there was no sign of Charlie or the others, and no sign of movement, but onwards they searched.
‘Remember when Ma used to take us to Aunt Betsy’s every other Sunday for afternoon supper?’ whispered Doodle, breaking the silence between the two. Yankee didn’t answer, but he was listening. ‘Her house always had that God-awful smell. Remember? Dang, it reeked! Like wet pants, or a dank sewer. And what about those big rats that would come along and bite at your socks when you weren’t paying attention? Man, I hated those things with a passion!’ Doodle looked around the room somewhat nervously. ‘Oh, and don’t forget all her broken mirrors. Every single one. It’s like she did it on purpose! I know she was dog-ugly, but damn, I ain’t never seen someone that didn’t like her own reflection that much! That place gave me the creeps. I hated it.’
‘What’s your point, Dood?’ asked Yankee, sounding a little short.
‘Ma always made it better. She would open up the curtains and let a little light in. She’d bake a cake to clear out the smell… blueberry pie,’ he smiled at the notion of the smell. ‘And she would drag in that fat old ginger cat of hers to chase off the rats. She was a smart lady, our Ma. She made all the bad stuff better. You know? She…’
Yankee stopped walking, turned around and put a fond hand on his brother’s shoulder.
‘I know, little bro. I miss her too,’ his voice was uncharacteristically soft, as he lovingly slapped his brother’s face a couple of times. ‘Who knows. We get our sorry butts out of this in one piece, maybe we’ll get back home to see her again. And when we do, we can take her out for a fancy meal.’
‘And dancing at that club she likes,’ added Doodle, excitedly.
‘Right,’ he agreed, smiling broadly. ‘But Doodle, right now we’ve got to find the Captain, find out what the hell is going on, and get ourselves out of here without dying. So get your head back in the game, buddy.’
Yankee pushed open an exceptionally heavy door, and entered a large square shaped hallway. It had several doors, leading to who knows where, but one in particular caught their interest. The brothers quickly moved over to it, scanning the surrounding area as they went. A great deal of light was protruding from the bottom of the door, and it looked most intriguing indeed. Without hesitation, they both placed an ear to the door and listened - they could hear something.
‘I hear people,’ whispered Yankee. ‘Could be the Captain.’
‘I think I hear music,’ said Doodle.
Yankee sniffed the air.
‘I smell… I smell coffee,’ remarked Yankee, frowning.
‘And bacon. And eggs,’ added Doodle, his eyes lighting up excitedly.
The brothers looked at each other, mouths open with anticipation, before hungrily muttering ‘I gotta check this out,’ in unison. Without further delay they yanked open the door and entered the room. But nothing could have prepared them for what happened next.
It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the beautiful, crisp light that welcomed them, but it took much longer for their brains to believe what they had just walked into, and even longer still for their mouths to catch up. There they were, the two brothers, standing quite innocently in the midst of what appeared to be an all-American diner. Sure enough, people were sitting around tables, young and old alike, dressed in civilian clothes, drinking milkshakes, greedily eating food, tapping their toes to the juke box that was playing in the corner, and merrily chatting amongst themselves. Waitresses came and went, fresh-faced and pretty, serving food, taking orders, whilst casually flirting with the customers as they moved with speed. And behind a busy bar the kitchen could be seen, with an abundance of chubby, sweaty cooks working away, snatching orders from the turnstile and pushing plate after plate of tempting and rather greasy food on to the counter. This was not what they had expected.
Doodle quickly looked behind him. The door they ha
d just walked through was apparently a door to the toilets. Without thinking he jerked it open, revealing as the sign suggested, a men’s toilet, but more importantly, a man innocently using a urinal. Doodle rapidly blinked his eyes, opening and closing the door each time, anxiously hoping the image would change to something that made sense. But instead each time revealed the peeing man looking more disgruntled, quickly finishing his business, zipping up his trousers and throwing an ever increasingly dirty look at Doodle with every opening of the door. Yankee, meanwhile, was standing mouth agape, staring at all the customers and waitresses who hadn’t seemed to notice their rather unprecedented arrival. They both looked very out of place of course, but no one seemed to care.
‘It’s a diner. I mean the diner. From back home,’ exclaimed Yankee.
‘What are you talking about?’ asked Doodle, who was now leaning across a table and peering out of the window. It was sunny out, and the sky was nothing but blue. All around the supposed diner were desert plains, sandy dunes with incredible rock formations, stretching as far as the eye could see.
‘This is Silverman’s Roadside Diner. The best hamburgers this side of the Mississippi! Remember it? 121 Devils Highway. Canyon Town. Arizona state. USA. The world.’ Yankee took a few confused steps forward, rubbing his head in his hands. ‘We’re back home.’
‘Afternoon darling,’ said a passing waitress, who was chewing gum and winking at him.
Yankee naturally moved towards the bar and slumped into an empty stool, relaxing into it all too easily, letting out a long and well deserved sigh of relief. He placed his weapons down on the bar without thinking and picked up a menu, a smile etching across his face as he perused his options. Doodle hurried over, not only bewildered with their state of affairs, but now with his brother’s behaviour.
‘Have you gone totally mental? Why are you sitting down? We’ve gotta get out of here and find the Captain, pronto!’
‘Who?’ asked Yankee, preoccupied with the menu, sounding distinctly dreamy.
‘What do you mean, who? We’ve got to find…’ but Doodle stopped. Try as he might, all of a sudden he couldn’t remember what they had just moments ago been doing, and for a brief time he tried very hard to recall their mission. But it wasn’t long before he was consumed by the intoxications of the diner, and soon he didn’t have any other care in the world. He sniffed the air several times over, a stupid grin stretched across his happy face. ‘The food does smell good.’ He sat down, playfully snatching the menu from his brother and looking over the delights on offer. ‘I’m so hungry, I think my big guts are eating my little guts!’
Yankee laughed, growing increasingly excited at the prospect of a hearty meal. He looked around, smiling politely at an old man who was sitting next to him shoveling down a spoon full of eggs. Out of the blue a waitress appeared the other side of the bar. She was especially pretty, with her blonde hair tied in plaits, and a big and well rehearsed smile across her lipstick-smothered mouth. She had a polka dot dress on and a name tag reading ‘Ruby’. Without asking she put two empty mugs on the bar and started pouring out hot coffee. The smell hit them, and it was invigorating.
‘And what brings two fine looking, strapping young gentlemen like yourselves to my diner?’ she asked joyfully, with a southern twang to her voice, very similar to their own.
‘Do you know, I don’t remember,’ replied Yankee.
‘Yeah. Me neither,’ said Doodle.
‘Well, ain’t that the darndest thing? Well, whatever it was it couldn’t have been all that important. Now, how about I get you boys something good to eat, on the house?’
The brothers nodded in reply, excited at the offer. Ruby winked at them both before walking off and disappearing into the kitchen.
‘She fancies me,’ whispered both men at precisely the same time.
They sipped at their coffee for a while, looking around the diner and enjoying themselves as if it were nothing out of the ordinary, just another lazy Sunday in America. Yankee grabbed the pot and poured himself another mug, greedily slurping it down, in spite of it being way too hot.
‘I reckon after this we head down the river. I got me a hankering for adventure. I say we snag ourselves a couple of horses from Old Man Turner’s farm,’ suggested Yankee, enthusiastic and energised.
‘Brilliant idea. And let’s race ‘em home. Ma will love that!’
‘You know as well as I do she won’t.’
‘I know. But it’ll be worth the hiding we get, just to see the look on her face when we come galloping up the pathway,’ chuckled Doodle in response.
‘Dinner up, fellas,’ came the waitresses voice.
Once again she seemed to have appeared from nowhere, but Yankee and Doodle didn’t care. They couldn’t help but stare wide eyed, excited like children on Christmas morning at the pleasures placed out in front of them. There was more food there than they had seen in years, it was overwhelming, and it all looked so good. There were steak sandwiches, hotdogs with ketchup and mustard, various eggs, potato grits, pancakes with maple syrup, waffles with cream and hot chocolate fudge sundaes. They didn’t know where to start first.
‘You boys enjoy,’ said Ruby, winking and trotting off to another customer.
Without hesitation the brothers tucked in - after all, remembering their mission or not, the two Americans had worked on virtually empty stomachs for months now. So they went at the food like animals, ravaging the plates and shoveling mouthful upon mouthful down, forgetting table manners in a heartbeat, whilst mixing concoctions of foods into their gullet up to the point of absolute repugnance - but they couldn’t care less. They continued that way for a long while, consumed and distracted by their hunger and greed, so much so that they didn’t even notice the strange and twisted changes that slowly began to unfold around them.
Little by little the beautiful sun-bleached day outside began to turn rather bleak. The sun faded into obscurity behind thick and heavy clouds. A powerful wind whipped across the way, scattering sand and tumbleweed along the roadside. And all the bright and dazzling colours of the scenery turned unmistakably grey, bringing with it a somewhat threatening feel. In the diner itself the jukebox playing in the corner began to skip, repeating the same few seconds of the music over again, warping the otherwise cheerful melody into something far more disturbing. But what was strangest of all, what the boys should have noticed, had they not been filling their bellies with an array of foods, was the people. The customers had stopped eating their meals, the cooks had stopped rushing around the kitchen, and the waitresses had stopped serving the food. In fact everyone had stopped moving altogether. Instead they just stared vacantly into the distance, suddenly resembling plastic manikins more than human beings. But the boys were still completely unaware of the nightmarish changes that were evolving around them, blissfully tucking into their grub. Until at long last, Yankee noticed a little something.
‘You know,’ he said, his mouth full to the brim, and a quizzical look on his face, ‘this steak sandwich is starting to taste a little funky.’
Doodle scooped up some scrambled eggs and pushed them into his already full mouth, before immediately hitting the hot fudge sundae with no mercy. But as he did, he noticed something on Yankee’s face.
‘You got a little something on your…’ he said, pointing at the oddity with a ketchup splattered finger. Yankee picked it off and looked at it. ‘What the hell is it?’
But Yankee’s face said it all - it was a maggot. He dropped it on the table, watching it wriggle its way around the concoctions. And then they both saw it - each and every plate of food they had only moments ago been stuffing their faces with was nothing more than dirt, bugs and guts. The sundaes were caked in mud and worms. The eggs were a farm of maggots and locusts fighting for space on the plates. The steak sandwich was something much worse - whatever it was, it was bloody and raw, oozing out of the side of the sandwich, and still pumping! The brothers dropped their food and spat it out, literally clawing at the
ir tongues in a vain attempt to cleanse themselves. They jumped from their stools, horror-struck. But no sooner were they back on their feet the room began to shake, crumbling around them. Windows began to crack, the ceiling started to fall in on itself, and bright smiling pictures fell from the walls.
Yankee grabbed at the old man that he had been sitting next to at the bar.
‘Buddy, we gotta go.’
The old man twisted his head round and looked at them both, revealing unusually sunken eyes. But then more weirdness struck. Quickly his skin began to decay, falling away like a suddenly aging man drying out in the harsh sun, revealing flesh and blood, until finally his bloody skull was all that remained. But just to top it all off the old man’s jaw unexpectedly fell off, causing Yankee and Doodle to both scream in fright, automatically backing away and colliding into a stationary waitress - Ruby. For a brief moment she rocked on the spot, back and forth, until ultimately she fell to the floor, bursting into nothing but dust on impact. The boys didn’t know which way to move next as the room shook harder still. Powerless to stop it, all they could do was watch. One by one the windows shattered to pieces, throwing shards of glass in their direction. The customers all began to decompose before their very eyes, collapsing into bloody heaps on their respective dining tables. Waitresses fell over like dominoes, smashing into the floor and bursting into pillars of dust. And the cooks all combusted into sinister statues of fire, crumpling into a pile and igniting the kitchen into a huge ball of flames. The walls of the diner began to crumble away, shaking aggressively, bricks falling to the ground, revealing the mansion’s own tired-looking decor and grand features behind, until, after a lot of screaming from the brothers, the American diner and the desert landscape completely fell away, leaving the boys back where they should have been all along, in a dim room in the mansion.
At long length they stopped screaming and pulled themselves together. For a moment they stood in an awkward silence, looking around the room suspiciously, but all seemed normal. Their weapons were sitting on an old wooden table just where the bar had been moments ago. Without talking they holstered them, keeping a watchful eye on the shadows of the room.
‘I vote we get the hell out of here,’ whispered Yankee.
‘I second that,’ replied Doodle, seeing eye to eye with his brother.
With that, and being very cautious as they opened the door to leave, they crept back into the confines of the house and continued with their search.