Fading Light: An Anthology of the Monstrous: Tim Marquitz Read Free Page B

couldn’t push him off, couldn’t even move his
hand away from her neck.
    All she could do was accept .
    Paul kissed her once on the lips and rolled off so they
lay side by side on the stairs.
    That is where they remained as the ash cloud danced in
whorls through the shattered door, the smell of sulphur more
discernible than ever. Amanda reached down and held Paul’s
hand.
    Then they waited.

The Equivalence Principle
    Nick Cato

I am above you. I am below you. I surround you. I
keep you safe. I’m your cover. I answer to no one, and I do as
I see fit. I show mercy to those who believe, and grow tired of those
who take me for granted.
I am above you.

    ~

    It took most of his life for twenty-six year old Steve
Burke to come to terms with his unwanted hereditarian enigma; at
least it wasn’t cancer. At least, he was discovering he could
deal with his fear of open spaces on his own thanks to his customized
concoction of natural herbs and over-the-counter muscle relaxers.
What idiots these physicians were! Xanax? Prozac? The stuff was evil
as far as he was concerned.
    The excitement of the coming weekend caused joy to erupt
in his mind, temporarily killing the thoughts of his mental
disability. At 6:00 p.m., he clocked out with the rest of the dogs at
Johanssen’s Imports, then prepared himself for the torturous
walk to his car.
    In the darkening night.
    In the center of the parking lot.
    Steve quickly ducked into the men’s room, popped
two large valerian-root pills and two Motrin’s into his dry
mouth, then stuck his head under the faucet. The daily dose washed
down uncomfortably but quickly. He stepped up to the rear exit of the
former shipping warehouse and mentally prepared himself for the dash
to his 2005 Taurus.
    OK, dude. The rope is attached to your waist and is
tied tightly to a metal pole that’s cemented forty-five feet
below the ground.
    Steve walked across the main driveway, darting to the
first set of freshly planted trees. Thank God for trees and poles ...
his gravitational aids. His car was twenty-two spaces away from them.
No trees or poles anywhere near it. He tugged on the rope to make
sure it was tight and eventually let go of the nearest tree.
    All right, he thought while fishing the keys from
his jacket’s inside pocket. The gravity seems strong. It
doesn’t look like anyone’s going to fall off the planet
today.
    Steve Burke dashed to the black vehicle, his head tilted
low and spazzing from side to side. He knew a few of his co-workers
watched from their parked cars and probably wondered what he was on,
but this was necessary. This was the knowledge everyone else lacked.
    “Steve? You okay?” asked Wilma Betson, the
company’s secretary for the past fifteen years.
    Without looking at her, he yelled “Yes. Enjoy your
weekend, Wilm.” Go ahead. Look at me. Laugh at me. Mock me.
I’ll be the one laughing when the celestial attraction gives
out. You’ll see. If you only had an idea of what you’ve
misplaced your faith in.
    He made it to the car. Within four seconds he was seated
behind the wheel and slamming the key into the ignition. He had to
make it back to the trees before the vehicle became weightless.
Before it hurled him into the abyss. His heart rate elevated.
    Ahhhhh, yes. Thank you, dear God. He made it.
Stopping alongside the island of a dozen or so trees, he threw the
gear into park and regained his composure. His back was now a river
of perspiration. After a minute of breathing deeply and exhaling
slowly, he was ready to follow his usual route home. It had taken
Steve a ridiculous amount of time to chart out a path that kept him
next to telephone poles, trees, and signs. There were a few seconds
where he’d be in one totally open space, but he was growing
used to it; the gravitational force at the intersection of Mulby and
Dexter Avenues always seemed friendly.

    ~

It is my nature to consume. It is my nature to
conquer. I am responsible for most of the nine hundred thousand