Tar and Feathers: Chapter One
The Abrams’s sea foam green Vista Cruiser chugged along the lonesome desert road at a leisurely pace. Eric Abrams was particularly proud of his car and often boasted about how its wood paneling would never go out of style. He considered the various dents and scrapes it had accumulated over its eight years of service to be marks of character. Old cars were reliquaries. This particular car held the memories of going to soccer practices, drive-in movies and taking Eric’s daughter, Lisa, to her first day of school. To Eric, his car was as much a part of the family as his wife or either of their two children.
Unfortunately, his family didn’t see it the same way. He’d even relented and had a tape deck installed in his baby, despite his beliefs that no tape could match the color of local radio. His wife, Grace, had her heart set on one of those new Dodge Caravans, and Lisa had already expressed her displeasure at the thought of inheriting a junk heap when she turned sixteen. His beloved station wagon was on its swan song and Eric couldn’t think of any better way to celebrate its retirement than to take a cross-country family vacation.
“Dad! How much longer is it going to be? I feel like I’m being baked in one of grandma’s pies back here!”
Eric tapped on the dashboard and the AC unit choked out some cool air. With the desert sun beating down on them, the fact that any air was circulating inside the car was a relief, but with a teenaged girl in the car, everything was something worthy of complaint.
“I’d say we have about another hour. Why don’t you play roadside bingo with your mother again? That’ll take your mind off the heat and we’ll be there before you know it!”
Lisa was unenthusiastic at best about the prospect of another round of roadside bingo. It may have passed the time while driving through the Midwestern states, but now there seemed to be nothing but hills covered with cactus in every direction. Then again, Lisa could think of many things that she would rather be doing than driving through the desert on a trip to a giant hole in the ground. She was nearly sixteen, as she constantly reminded her parents despite the fact that she had a full year and a half left until that birthday. In her mind, this vacation would’ve been spent much wiser if she was lounging on a beach somewhere working on her tan while listening to the Duran Duran tape that her friend, Chris, had made for her. Chris, also known as the boy she’d been fawning over ever since starting high school, that she would love to have lying next to her on that beach, wasn’t there. Instead, she was stuck in the backseat of her father’s junk heap with her baby brother, Eddie.
Eddie wasn’t nearly as perturbed about the family vacation. He had his thumb stuck firmly in his mouth; his fingers were curled around the tag of his blankie, and he was too busy dreaming about pleasant things to have a single care about the lack of scenery.
“Aren’t you just the most precious thing?” His mother would muse as she occasionally checked back on her sleeping baby boy.
“C’mon Dad, can’t we listen to my tape for just a little while?” Her daughter and her husband were at it again. Eric’s usual response about music being the driver’s choice was sure to follow. In all honesty, Grace didn’t see any problems with their daughter’s taste in music like her husband did. If he hadn’t been so attached to the past, he’d see that the bands of the day were just as capable as the ones they’d grown up listening to. She liked modern things after all. Her clothing was always in style, her family was one of the few on the block with cable television (which her husband blamed for their daughter’s attitude), and soon she’d be upgrading to a brand new minivan. Surely, she would be the envy of all the other mothers on the block.
“I still don’t see why we had to drive all the way from Connecticut just to see a giant hole in the ground!”
“It’s not just any hole in the ground. It’s the Grand freaking’ Canyon! It’s a national treasure. Every American should see it at least once in their lives!”
“Hold it now, you two,” Grace interrupted, “I think we’ve had this argument one too many times. I know I was tired of listening to it and other incarnations of it back in St. Louis when it was about seeing a giant horseshoe. We still have a long time in the car together on the return trip, and I’m sure neither of you want to drive me insane.”
“No, Mom.”
“Perish the thought, Hon.”
“Well then, I say that Lisa will get to listen to her tape on the return trip when I’m driving. It is driver’s choice after all. In return, there will be no more complaining about the trip, the car or the lack of scenery when your father is driving. Deal?”
Lisa nodded affirmatively, and Eric reluctantly agreed too, even though he still thought that Duran Duran, in no way, shape or form could measure up to Herman’s Hermits. The thought even had him humming “I’m Henery the Eighth, I am”.
“Second verse, same as the first!” Eric muttered right before he caught a glint in his eye. Down the road, there was a flicker of light, and it continued on like the sun was reflecting off something metal.
“Something tells me we’re into something good,” He said in a singsong way, which made Grace roll her eyes. He pointed towards the light source with such authority that it seemed as if he was reaching through the windshield itself, “There, look, down the road. Looks like we’ll be back in civilization again in a couple of minutes.”
The reflection they saw was still intermittently twinkling. If they had been closer to the source, they may have seen that this beacon was trying to draw energy from the surrounding area and that it was not a reflection at all, but was like a bulb just hanging mid-air.
“I bet it’s one of those roadside diners, you know one of those in the big silver trailers. How about we stop and get something to eat? That sound good to you Lisa?” Eric asked, taking his eyes off the road for just a little to look back at his daughter. Thus, it was to his surprise that when he did turn, his daughter was leaning forward, trying to get a better view of something in front of them, and that the color had drained from her face.
Turning his attention back to the road, he saw what had now also gained the attention of his wife. That little twinkling star in the distance had expanded into a radiating sun and it was much closer than it had originally appeared. It now appeared as an orb, at least as big as Eddie, who was still sleeping soundly, oblivious to this turn of events.
“What do you think it is? A UFO? It reminds me of that Close Encounters movie.”
“Dad… stop the car.”
“I want to get a little closer; maybe we can see what it–”
“Dad! Stop the car now!,” came Lisa’s panic stricken voice right as the orb expanded again, her pleas coming a little too late. Light enveloped the inside of the car as Eric slammed on the breaks. It was all he could do as all sense of space was instantly lost in this expansion. The light this time was end of existence white, light at the end of the tunnel white, a light so brilliant that even as the Vista Cruiser veered off the road and crashed amongst the sand and the cacti, all those that had seen it were left with a pleasant sense of well-being, a feeling that would only last as long as it took for Eddie to wake up and start crying.
***
“Right on target, right on time,” slipped out between Zorn’s piranha-like teeth. His voice was distorted and hissing, like something lost in the static of a bad recording. Perched like a vulture on an outcropping up in the hills, he was the only living thing (if you could call him living), that had seen a ball of light engulf a sea foam green station wagon with wood paneling. Even from his distance, he could hear the sounds of groaning coming from the crash site. The shrill cries of a small child in particular put a cold grin on his visage. Zorn was excited. His tar-soaked feet were boiling, staining the rock that he was crouched on, but it wasn’t the crying that had aroused him so.
***
Ansel’s world had just collapsed. Small specks of blood covered both his hands and his knees, and while his injuries were no worse than that of a child falling off their bike, it was the most excruciating thing that Ansel had ever felt. He rose slowly, his gladiator-like sandals providing a solid base for him to stand. However, he still wobbled about clumsily. It wasn’t until his wings were extended that he felt truly balanced. They were truly a spectacle to behold, whiter than any swan could ever wish for. A few stray feathers fluttered to the ground as he gave them a good stretch, flapping them to alleviate the stiffness that had set in.
As ascended slowly, it was like the first time all over again. Gravity wasn’t being kind to Ansel. With considerable effort though he was where he was most comfortable, in the air. The sweltering heat of the air.
“Do not tell me I have repeated Icarus’s folly.” He stared up at the sun, wondering how such heat could possibly exist. Were all of the comforts he had grown so accustomed to now gone? It seemed to him that this lesson in humility was perhaps taken a step too far. Surely, a mistake must have been made, because this felt a whole lot more like Hell than it did Earth. Even the unmistakable smell of sulfur hung about. The source of this odor was not hard to find.
“Welcome to the mortal plane!” Zorn greeted Ansel with his most pleasant tone of voice, which still sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard.
Ansel looked upon Zorn with such disgust, that one would think he had been covered in boils (which was actually a pretty stylish look amongst the demon community).
“Hey now, what‘s with the sour puss? Here I am throwing you a welcoming party and all you can do is look at me like–”
“Be still your tongue! Your voice sounds like the death throes of a rabbit. My ears were not designed for such offensive noise.”
Zorn grinned. He was dancing a jig inside, thinking about all the fun he was going to be able to have with Ansel.
“And I always thought I had such a lovely singing voice, I guess we can’t all sound like a tabernacle choir.”
Ansel was already reaching for his belt where a sword was sheathed. His hand tightened around the sword’s hilt, the grip so tight that his knuckles turned alabaster white.
“You’ve got anger issues,” Zorn quipped, “I like that quality in people.”
Without any more hesitation, Ansel’s sword was unsheathed and held directly at the demon’s throat. Zorn put both hands up like he was in a stick up.
“The only reason you have yet to taste my blade is that it is not my duty to deal with the likes of you. Now tell me what it is you want and be quick about it!”
“I’ve barely started on the witty banter, and already you’re drawing a sword on me.” Zorn fell back into a sitting position, Ansel’s short sword following him the whole way until it was pointed directly at his prominent proboscis. “I suppose I can cut to the chase. I thought we could partner up. I’m an escaped demon; you’re a fallen angel. We could be like a transdimensional Odd Couple.”
The extra emphasis that Zorn put on the word fallen cut Ansel deep. It was obvious that the demon was trying to goad him into a fight and wounding the young angel’s pride was perhaps the easiest way to accomplish this. Ansel was already guilty of one of the seven deadly sins though and succumbing to wrath was not the best way to fall back into good graces. Ansel sheathed his sword, his ethereal voice still filled with uncharacteristic venom.
“I should’ve known you for a fool the moment I saw you. Only a demon could be fool enough to dress in that manner in this heat.”
Zorn didn‘t see anything wrong with the way he was dressed. An overcoat and long woolen pants were perfect for keeping warm in a realm that lacked the heat he was accustomed to, and the coating of tar on his feet that made it look like he had been wading in La Brea also kept him surprisingly warm.
“I take it that’s a no then?”
Ansel’s furrowed brow was all the answer he had to give.
“Well, maybe you’ll feel differently about it after you’ve had a good night’s sleep. You haven’t even let me explain the benefits of a partnership. I’ll tell you what, you take a few days to settle in here on Earth and then I’ll look you up–”
“Enough! I have wasted far too much time on you already. I suggest you never approach me with this ridiculous proposition again.”
With that, Ansel turned and began to fly away, showing the single flaw in his otherwise flawless wings. One black feather stood out amongst all the white, flapping in the breeze. The demon’s lips curled up into a disgusting smile of interest.
“Hey! Wait! Are you leaving without even helping those humans? I thought helping the mortals was what your kind did.”
Ansel’s eyes shifted to look below him. Eric Abrams was now standing outside of his car, crouched down and looking at the wheels, which seemed to be stuck in the sand. He gave a quick glance back at Zorn again.
“My mission is to reform sinners and bring them back to the light, not to assist motorists. Those humans are in no immediate danger and are therefore as much of a waste of time as you are.”
The annoyed angel took off without another word, his silhouette in the sky the only thing left to see.
“Naïve, aren’t we?” Zorn mused aloud. The demon’s red eyes began to glow and his gaze shifted to the stranded vacationers. “I suppose I should appreciate that you left me something to play with though.” A long deep howl came from deep inside of him as he cocked his head back, and tar once again began to drip from between his toes.
***
Eric surveyed the damage done to his precious Vista Cruiser. After running off the road, the family car had run up a sparsely vegetated dune and ramped into another one, its front end wedging itself amongst the rocks and the sand. Grace stood back a few feet from Eric, holding Eddie and rubbing his back, trying to get the still sobbing and scared child to calm down.
“Good news, family. I think with a little muscle we can avoid hitchhiking the rest of the way.”
Lisa, who was sitting in the front seat of the car now and fanning herself with a magazine, let out a disgusted sigh.
“Lisa, don’t throw a fit. You can drive while your father and I push.”
“Well, if you insist,” Lisa giggled, doing little to contain her excitement. Without any hesitation, she slid across the bench seat and started adjusting the mirrors. She stuck her head out of the driver’s side window and shouted to her parents. “Ready when you–ooh wait! I almost forgot!” She located her purse and dug through it, producing a cassette tape, which she immediately put in. The familiar shuttering of cameras at the start of “Girls on Film” came through the car’s speakers. “Okay, now I’m ready. Driver’s choice, remember?”
Her mother winked at her as both she and Eric worked to loosen some of the rocks that were stuck around the wheels. Eddie waddled away, chasing after a quarter-sized black beetle that was skittering around. The echo of what resembled a dog’s howl caught the Abrams’s ears.
“What was that? Are there wolves in Arizona? Eddie! Get in the car.”
Eddie was bent over, poking into a hole with a stick.
“I don’t think there are wolves. It’s probably a coyote. Eddie will be fine. They call all the time. And it’s probably miles off from the sound of it.” Eric said matter of factly, tossing a large rock off into the brush. “Lisa, put the car in reverse.”
“It’s nice that you can be so cavalier about our son’s safety, especially after we were run off the road by a UFO.”
“Yeah, well I don’t want to coddle him. We could end up with a mama’s boy to go with our spoiled princess if we let things go that way.”
Grace groaned in the way that only an annoyed wife can, “Forget the argument and just push!”
Lisa stepped on the gas and the wheels spun as her parents hefted the station wagon. Between the radio, which Lisa had turned up considerably once her parents started arguing and the revving sounds of the car, the yips that were starting to come from every direction around them seemed to be nothing but static.
“Almost! Let’s give it another go!”
The music went silent as the previous track ended, the yipping had stopped and Grace and Eric were taking a breather, preparing for another grand push.
The innocent voice of their youngest though, pierced the silence, “Mommy, daddy, look at the doggies!”
Dark in the city, night is a wire. Steam in the subway, earth is a fire. Do-do do do, do do do, do do do, do do do, do do.
Surrounding the stranded family were now almost a dozen coyotes, their eyes were aglow in a ghostly red. Their unearthly gaze was fixed firmly on the smallest of the Abrams. The stand still did not last long. The closest of the coyotes lunged for the child, its teeth gnashing, on a direct course for the little boy’s throat.
“Eddie!”
Instinctively, Grace put herself between her child and the canine’s bared teeth. The coyote crashed into the woman’s back and sunk its teeth deep into her shoulder. Lisa screamed!
In touch with the ground, I’m on the hunt. I’m after you. Smell like I sound, I’m lost in a crowd, and I’m hungry like the wolf.
Eric immediately tried to save his wife as three more coyotes jumped into the fray, headed for the now injured woman. Grace was pinned down and the coyote bit deeper into her shoulder. Eric crashed shoulder first into it, but two of the latecomers grabbed him. It would be over quickly as one of them tore his throat out. Blood spilled from the open wound and stained the desert sand. Grace was clawing her way towards her wailing son as the four coyotes shredded ribbons of flesh off of her now late husband.
“Lisa! Save Eddie!” She screamed. The rest of the pack was charging down the mountain, not wanting to be left out of this feast.
Stalked in the forest, too close to hide. I’ll be upon you by the moonlight side. Do-do do do, do do do, do do do, do do do, do do.
There was plenty to go around. As Grace was eaten alive, being eviscerated before her children’s eyes, Lisa was scrambling to get Eddie to run towards her. She opened the driver’s side door and waved her arms frantically.
“Eddie, hurry! Please!” She sobbed, though her little brother just stood there crying. A half a dozen coyotes were on each of their parents. Bones were crunching between well-sharpened teeth. The cacophony of the sputtering and spurting of arteries still pumping blood and the sickening sound of the dozen wild dogs ripping away muscle from bone echoed through Lisa’s ears.
Eddie wasn’t coming. He was just going to stand there crying at the top of his lungs until their parents were devoured and then he’d be little more than a snack for them. Lisa made her feet move, pried her hands off the steering wheel, with tears staining her now dirty cheeks, she dashed towards her brother.
One by one, the coyotes heads raised from their meal. Blood was caked to their maws. Their eyes were ablaze and then all heads turned towards the children.
Hungry like the wolf. Hungry like the wolf. Hungry like the wolf.
Eddie was taken up into Lisa’s arms in a split second. She pivoted and sprinted back towards the car’s open door. The way back was blocked. One of the coyotes had jumped through the passenger side window and was staring them down, standing with a sanguine mess dripping from its jaws.
“No!” Lisa screamed and started running down the road. The pack followed, keeping pace with little trouble. The yips and calls the pack was sharing sounded like laughter.
With the extra load of carrying her brother, the young girl could not outpace them. She stumbled, falling to her knees. The band of coyotes encircled them, snapping in their direction to make sure the scared children were stuck in the center of the slowly enclosing circle. Lisa hunched over, protecting her brother’s body as best as she could, curled up in the fetal position as she rocked back and forth holding him.
Strut on a line, its discord and rhyme. I’m on the hunt. I’m after you. Mouth is alive, with juices like wine…
***
“And I’m hungry like the wolf.” Zorn hummed melodically.
All that was left of the parents were picked-over carcasses that would prove unrecognizable as anything human. There were twelve fur-covered backs, in a circle up the road, where the coyotes were gorging themselves on the succulence of younger meat. Zorn licked his razor-thin lips like a psychic guest at the beasts’ meal, wishing he could stick around so he could see this death scene discovered by some unfortunate soul. He could imagine their abject horror, but he had other things on his slate. A new treat had arrived from the planes above, one that could provide him with so many more opportunities for carnage.
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