The Dead Wall

By Patrick C. Van Slyke

Life in a small western town could be boring but Nick knew he had it pretty good. His family was okay, he was doing well in high school and he had the best friends. Everything was just normal. Nothing was strange about his life at all.

But the summer before Nick’s junior year at Sheridan High, his world is torn apart. During a stormy Friday night party, while Nick and the other teens play with a Ouija board, Brad Raymond, Nick’s close friend, becomes possessed by a demon proclaiming itself a servant of the ‘Master.’ The fiend declares that God has tired of mankind and withdrawn the protection that kept the earth safe from the evils of hell. The possession ends as quickly as it began but leaves Nick questioning his sanity and Brad Raymond in a life-threatening coma.

Yet in the midst of this horror, Nick is introduced to Beth Tellie, a young woman who becomes a friend and then more as they try to understand what is happening.

The quiet town of Sheridan is now beset by isolated but horrifying and deadly demonic episodes that cannot logically be explained but seem to corroborate the profane future of which the fiend spoke. Nick is targeted by a powerful demon that demands his help in opening a gate for the invasion and in return promises to protect Nick, Beth and their family and friends. Nick is told that he has been born with the unique ability to breach the wall before the eventual fall, allowing one demon to completely cross over before the others. This lead would allow the demon to solely enslave the world, bringing it God-like powers.

Herein lays Nick’s dilemma. Mankind seems to stand no chance of survival, whether Nick helps the demon or not. He must choose to either aid the invading forces or stand with mankind. Should Nick help the ‘Master’ and save Beth and his family, leaving the rest of mankind to perish? Or can he find a way to fight back before the wall comes down?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Patrick C. Van Slyke
• Release date: Jun 24, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301389483

Patrick C. Van Slyke

Patrick Van Slyke grew up in the shadows of the Big Horn Mountains in the small town of Sheridan Wyoming. An avid reader, as a child he was drawn to fantasy and science fiction. He attended the University of Wyoming and it was here that his love of Horror began. Patrick now lives in sunny southern California with his daughter and fiancé. His day job is owner of Assisted Living Placements, helping seniors find assisted living. He hopes to one day support his family solely as an author. To that end, Patrick has published numerous short stories and has finished the Forsaken Trilogy. This 300,000 word work is set in Patrick’s home town and tells the tale of a teenager on the brink of manhood who learns that the barrier between the living and the dead has begun to collapse, forcing him into a conflict that could lead to insanity, death, or the betrayal of everything he holds dear. Recently Patrick is working a new science fiction horror novel, The Quantum Gate.

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The Dead Wall

by Patrick C. Van Slyke

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Patrick C. Van Slyke

Copyright 2013 Coat of Arms Publishing

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

www.pcvanslyke.com

This book is dedicated to my family and daughter Natasha. They are the only reason I am alive today.

PROLOG

An old station wagon headed away from Main Street, and into the inky blackness of the empty Wyoming prairie. Kelly Phillips was in the passenger seat and lord she was pissed. They had been invited to her parent’s house for dinner and they should have been there an hour ago. But Rick was late, again, and when he had finally wandered in, she could tell he was drunk. What had happened to the beautiful young man she had fallen in love with?

They had been the perfect couple in high school and she remembered the big plans they had made together, while laying on their blanket looking up at the stars night after night.

She remember the shock at finding out she was pregnant her senior year and the dull acceptance that came when Rick had, with some persuasion, agreed to marry her. It hadn’t been bad at first. Lots of teens got married in small towns and sometimes it worked out. There were plenty of jobs.

Sheridan always needed new blood for the railroad, coalmine and sawmill. In the beginning Rick, with the help of her father, got a great job riding the rails. They had enjoying looking at different homes, finally deciding on an older mobile home so they could save for a better place when the baby came. It was a good plan and Kelly had high hopes for her new little family.

But Rick had quickly drifted away and when Jared was born, Kelly felt more alone than she ever had. Coming back to the present Kelly looked in the back seat of their old station wagon. Baby Jared was clutching his cookie monster doll and trying hard not to fall asleep. Her heart broke with love for the defenseless little child.

But, despite all of the yelling and begging, Rick spent most of his time at the bar with his friends or in front of the TV with his beer, ignoring Kelly and the baby like they weren’t even there. When she found that the savings account had been raided and used in an affair with a cheap waitress from the Mint bar, she had almost left him. But he had begged for another chance and eventually, for Jared, she had relented. Of course, within weeks, he was right back to where he had been. Kelly knew it was quickly becoming time to face hard facts. She was beginning to think that Jared would be better off with no dad than the one he had now.

When he had finally wandered in this evening Kelly fought to keep her mouth closed. She didn’t want to yell in front of the baby, but looking at his sickly looking profile she knew she couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

Rick, we gotta talk.

He looked at her and she saw that his eyes seemed to be glazing over. I don’t feel so good, Kelly. Oh, crap, I think…I think I better pull over.

She looked away in disgust. You’re too drunk to drive. What a surprise, she began. I can’t take…

But Kelly's rant was cut short as the car veered off the quiet country road doing about forty miles per hour. A deep culvert caught the front tires and flipped the vehicle end over end, finally coming to rest on its roof in a wheat field fifty yards from the road. They were only a few miles from their home in Sheridan, and less than a mile from her parents' peaceful ranch house. But at that moment they couldn’t have been more isolated.

Slowly, Kelly came to, upside down, still strapped to the seat. Everything was dark except for the ghostly green light still coming from the dash, mocking her.

The baby’s cries brought her back to full consciousness. She tried to turn her head to assess the damage, but the agony was too great and she cried out.

Rick! she moaned, as the effort to talk tore at her insides. The baby! Help me! I’m hurt! Oh God, the baby! The baby needs me, Rick!

She felt as if something sharp and hot was jammed into her stomach. Rick! she cried, but he wouldn’t answer.

Kelly felt herself drifting away, but once again the baby’s scream again jerked her back to awareness, and lent clarity to her mind. Fighting the pain, she lifted her hand to try the seatbelt release.

Touching her belly she bit back a cry. She must have been torn open somehow. She could feel her insides pressing against her blood-soaked shirt and a moan of despair escaped her lips. Shock threatened to snuff out her consciousness, but the love for her child pumped more adrenalin into her system and beat back the darkness.

Rick? she called again, this time in little more than a whisper.

Rick coughed weakly. He was still alive, Kelly realized, and for one brief second, hope surged through her.

Rick, for God’s sake! The baby!

A cough racked her husband again, a wet, tearing cough. Then, slowly, like a dungeon door groaning open for the first time in a hundred years, a voice from another world answered her.

The Master was right. The fracture is real. This is the world of the living.

Rick?

Silence maggot. The male is no more.

The hope that had begun inside her withered and died. Rick was gone. Something else, something from very far away, had taken his place. Something horrible from beyond the stars was in the wreck with her now.

Listen, the thing that had been her husband whispered. Listen to the quiet. I can hear myself. In the dark land you only hear the screams of the damned. Oh the precious quiet.

Please Rick, the baby!

Quiet fool! The era of all mankind draws to a close. Savor the moment. You have been forsaken by the Creator. It spat the word creator as if it burned its mouth.

I come to prepare the way for the Master. Humanity must pay for its arrogance.

Kelly cast about furiously for some kind of rational explanation.

This is a dream. I’m dreaming, she moaned with a helpless, wet laugh.

Tell yourself what you will, the inhuman voice scorned. For too long mankind has foolishly assumed that you are the center of creation and the masters of your own destinies. You grub and crawl through paradise, crying to the heavens, ‘look at all we have built.’ What arrogance! You are blind. You have been sheltered but no more. You will wail, and you will beg for mercy, but it is too late. For your kind it is much too late.

There was a movement, and Rick’s face passed into her field of vision. He was no longer strapped to the seat. He had gotten free somehow and was crawling toward her through the broken glass that had collected in the concavity of the roof. Despite her tears and the blood dripping down her face, she could see that something terrible had happened to him. Her nose was packed with blood, yet even so, the putrid smell of decay and death brought bile up in her throat. Kelly’s mind began to give way. She must already be dead and in hell. Rick’s icy hand brushed her face.

Oh, God, she begged quietly.

Your God is gone now, the abomination whispered intimately, as it stroked her bloody cheek. We are all that is left.

The baby…? she asked one last time, as her mind broke free of its moorings and began to slip away.

I will see to the child... the voice caressed her wetly. The dead hands that were no longer her husband’s gently began to pull at her clothes.

I must finish quickly here, the fiend whispered to himself as he began his work. I must find the special one for the master … I must find the human called Davis…

CHAPTER 1

So, what are your plans for this fine Friday night, Nick? the sixteen year old’s mother asked as they sat eating pizza in front of the family room TV.

I don’t know, Nick Davis mumbled absently, focused on the show. Just goof around, I guess.

Who are you going to hang out with? Sean?

Um, I don’t know, maybe.

Well, are you going to go somewhere?

Jeez, Mom, he said, tossing his hands into the air with mock exasperation. I don’t know what we’re going to do. Pushing the hair from his eyes, he looked at his sister.

Tell her, Sissy.

Yeah, Mom, he's just going to cruise up and down Main Street, looking for girls. That’s all he ever does, she giggled.

Is that true, Nick? Is that all you ever do?

Ah, come on. Of course not. Well, I mean, kinda, I guess. Look, Mom, you know how it is. This is Sheridan, small town, nowhere, Wyoming. What else is there to do? Everyone is out cruising Main. I’m just going to head down there and see what’s going on.

She shook her head. You kids are odd, you know that? When I was in high school we would make plans and then go somewhere, a movie or dancing or something. Of course, not as many kids had cars back then.

Well, I mean, we do that stuff sometimes. Cruising is just what we do while we figure out what to do. It’s kinda hard to explain.

Okay, well, just don’t be late.

I won’t, he promised absently, turning back to the TV.

Don’t forget, Nick, okay? Your dad is going to be home any time.

Eh, what’s that?

She smiled. That got your attention. Your father’s train is due in any time. You know he's serious about your curfew, right?

Nick sighed. He had bumped heads with his dad more than once about his curfew, and his mom was right. His dad was done talking. One more time and Nick was going to spend the rest of the summer grounded. Yeah, I know. I won’t be late.

Good, she smiled.

He smiled back. Thanks, Mom.

#

The tiny chips in the old windshield lit up like diamonds as his car drove under the high pressure street lamps, but Nick didn’t care. Sure, the car was old, but it was his and it ran. Things could have definitely been worse. Leaning forward a bit, he squinted up into the dark to check out the oncoming storm. The radio had said it was going to be a screamer. They usually were this time of year. Summer thunderstorms in Wyoming could be hell. But the weather was not going to slow Nick down, not tonight. It was Friday night. He had a few bucks, his car, and freedom ‘till curfew. It was time to party. The storm would just add to the mayhem.

Even during the summer, when school was out, Friday night was the big party night. And in a small town like Sheridan, the party started down on Main Street. Everyone would be down there, raising Cain. Nick grinned as his old car rolled through the darkness. He had a good feeling. This Friday was special, he could just tell. It was going to be one hell of a night.

Nick looked at the ghostly green digital readout on the car radio. Nine fifteen. He had tons of time till curfew, but he had to stay alert tonight. He couldn’t be late again, as his mom had reminded him at dinner.

Nick blinked as lightning ignited the night sky, and he began to silently count seconds. One…two…three…four…thunder boomed. The storm was getting closer. But Nick was a native, and people who grew up at the base of the Bighorn Mountains, knew a little something about wicked weather. As the thunder faded, the lonely cry of a distant coal train pierced the valley. It was possible that was the train his dad was in, but Nick thought it sounded more like a full outbound train than an empty pulling in.

Just about everyone in Sheridan was connected to the railroad or the Decker coal mine in some way. Nick’s dad was an engineer for Burlington Northern. He would get a call from the dispatcher telling him when a full coal train was ready, then drive the train up into Montana and wait for an empty to be ready for the drive back. He would be gone for a couple of days at a time. And that was just fine with Nick. In his opinion, when his dad was home things were always kind of tense. All he seemed to care about were Nick’s grades and how much money he was putting away for college. Nick, on the other hand, really only had one thing on his mind. Girls.

This coming school year Nick would be a junior, but so far he had not been on even a single date. Disturbing? Hell yes, it was disturbing. As he slowly came to a stop at a red light before Main, he looked at himself in the rear-view mirror. It wasn’t his looks, he didn’t think, running his hand through his hair. Nick was pretty sure that, unlike his beat-up old Ford Maverick, he was at least okay-looking, maybe even hot. He had clear, green eyes, under a thick head of unruly black hair, and he was just under six foot in socks, slim but athletic. Looks weren’t the problem. Shyness, that was Nick’s curse, and man, it was hell. It seemed that no matter how much he liked a girl, he could just not get up the courage to ask her out. Just the thought of it started him shaking.

Most times Nick felt pretty much in control. But bring a pretty girl within shouting distance and it was all over. His heart would start to race and he would lose the ability to create coherent sentences. And contrary to what the prime time sitcoms would have him believe, girls did not find this adorable or endearing at all. It just sucked.

Nick’s best friend, the Bass, who usually had more girls than he could handle, had tried to help.

Look, dude. This isn’t about looks, otherwise you would be getting it all the time and I never would. In a way the Bass was right. He was only about five foot seven with curly red hair and freckles. "It’s about numbers.

Numbers? Nick asked once.

Sure, numbers. Look Nick, everyone gets kicked to the curb sometimes. You just can’t let it get you down. He leaned in toward Nick and motioned him to come closer. Here’s the secret, he said, conspiratorially. If you just keep asking eventually you will get some.

Huh?

Just keep asking till some chick says yes. That’s it. I ask a girl out, she shoots me down, I move on. It may take ten tries but eventually, I am going to get laid. It’s a numbers game. It doesn’t matter how many say no. The only one that matters is the one that says yes.

But doesn’t it bother you when you get rejected?

The Bass had laughed. Of course not. Dude, they’re only girls.

A sharp honk from behind made Nick jump, bringing him back to the present. The light had turned green, and he was holding up traffic. Over-compensating, he popped the clutch and the Maverick stalled, as it was inclined to do, rolling leisurely into the intersection. Nick hunched close to the steering column to hide his face, and worked the key in the ignition. Laughter and catcalls erupted from the cars all around. Red-faced, he pumped the clutch. For once, the car showed some mercy and started right up. He quickly finished his right turn and sped down Main.

The street was packed. Everybody was out, just like he had figured. There was honking and yelling, engines roaring and music blaring. The night smelled of exhaust and fast food and the raw energy of life. He cranked up some AC/DC, stuck his left elbow out the window and drove. Nick felt good. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the night when the stars would align in the heavens and he would finally meet Her.

Back in Black gave way to Shook Me All Night Long, as he watched Jenifer Dale drive past in the new Camero her wealthy father had bought for her. The glossy machine was full of cheerleaders. Nick gave a half wave as they passed. If they didn’t respond, he could just pretend he had been air-guitaring on the wheel. They didn’t wave back. No big surprise. They never did. Maybe someday.

Nick pulled to a stop at a red light. Some people were born with all the luck. He wondered if Jenifer Dale even knew he was alive. Probably not. She ran in a different crowd. Rich and popular, it was almost like they were from a different world. They were the beautiful people. The girls were all cheerleaders and the boys were all jocks. They drove the best cars, went to the best parties and, after high school, they would go on to the best colleges. It wasn’t fair, but it was the way it was. Nick and his friends were on the outside looking in.

Nick fantasized about Jenifer all the time, just like all his friends did. She was movie-star gorgeous. Waiting for the light, he drifted into a day-dream where he found her stranded on a lonely country road. Just at the point in the fantasy where she started to strip (he wasn’t sure why she was stripping but it was a fantasy; who cared?), Nick was, once again, startled by a loud honk. In the right hand lane, next to him was the unmistakable muscle car of the Bass. Jim Basset, or the Bass to his friends, was definitely an outsider.

The Bass hung both beefy arms out the window of his orange Chevelle Malibu and smiled wickedly.

Dude! Where you been? I’ve been looking for you all night. I even cruised by your house.

You musta really wanted to talk to me. Did you see my dad? He's supposed to get in tonight.

Nick’s dad couldn’t stand the Bass and didn’t bother to hide it. Unfortunately, it was kind of understandable. Where Nick was an unwilling outsider, the Bass was an outsider by choice, and he never missed an opportunity to joyfully flip the bird at anyone in authority. He was sixteen, the same age as Nick, but a year behind in school because he just didn’t give a crap. He lived with his elderly Aunt May, and she just let him do as he pleased. No one was really sure what had happened to his parents.

Your car was gone so I didn’t stop. But he saw me drive by and didn’t flip me off so I guess that’s an improvement.

Nick’s dad said that the Bass had 'short man syndrome'. Life had definitely not handed the Bass a winning hand, but even Nick had to admit that his friend went overboard to compensate. When they had first met, years before, the Bass had practically lived in the weight room of the YMCA, so by the time they started high school, he already looked like a miniature Arnold Schwarzenegger. He dressed like a mad-man; moccasins, tank tops, kilts, whatever would make people stare.

Meet me at the Dairy Queen! the Bass bellowed as the light turned green. He punched the accelerator and, tires screaming, tore through the intersection, leaving the Maverick in a cloud of white smoke. Nick just shook his head, smiling, and followed at a much more legal pace.

The Bass was always in trouble. He was the polar opposite of Jenifer Dale and the popular crowd. He had a chip on his shoulder the size of Steamboat Point, and he simply would not, or maybe could not, keep his mouth shut. He didn’t get into many fights because he was very tough and very crazy, but he was always at odds with authority. Everyone on the small police force knew the Bass, and that was not a good thing. He was constantly getting stopped for the lamest reasons. It was obvious that they were hoping to catch him driving drunk or in possession of illegal drugs. Nick knew they were barking up the wrong tree. The Bass never drank or used drugs, probably a by-product of all the time spent in the gym. They would probably get him for something someday, but it sure wouldn’t be drugs or alcohol. Nick figured it was probably going to be a weapons charge of some kind.

And yet, oddly, the Bass seemed to value his friendship with Nick more than just about anything. He never involved Nick in his altercations and was uncharacteristically respectful to Nick’s parents, on the rare occasions they were forced to interact. But Nick’s dad just wasn’t buying it.

Why do you hang out with that asshole? his dad had asked once. They had been in the garage, changing the brakes on Nick’s Maverick.

Come on, Dad.

Nick, I’m serious. I’ve known guys like that all my life. They've got this idea that the rules don’t apply to them. I just don’t get it. You’re a smart guy, Nick. You got so much going for you. And that kid is just a loser. You guys couldn’t be any more different.

The thing that made Nick most uncomfortable about this conversation was that he knew his dad was partially right. But that didn’t change the fact that The Bass was Nick’s best friend.

He’s just my friend, Dad. Didn’t you ever have a friend that Grandpa didn’t like?

His dad just grunted from under the car so Nick continued, I know you probably don’t believe it, but I can trust him. He would do anything for me. There aren’t a lot of people I can say that about.

You’re right, Nick. I did have a friend that your grandfather didn’t like. He pulled himself out from under the car and stood up, wiping his hands with a rag. The garage smelled of oil and gasoline. We called him Ducky. God, I thought he was just about the neatest guy. And we had some great times, I admit it. But he was trouble, and when the shit finally hit the fan for him, I got caught in the spray, too. Do you understand what I'm saying? I don’t want that to happen to you.

It’s not going to, Dad. I mean, Jim doesn’t even drink.

Hand me a three-eighths. Nick grabbed the wrench from the bench as his dad slid under the car again. All I know is that kid is no good, Nick. If you're not careful, someday you are going to get burnt.

Although his dad wouldn’t go so far as to forbid Nick from hanging out with The Bass, it seemed like he wanted to make them both as miserable as possible. That sucked.

The Bass was long gone by the time the Dairy Queen came into view on the corner of Main and Second. Friday night in summer was always a big night at the Dairy Queen, and this night was no exception. A crowd of probably twenty teenagers, cowboys, jocks, greasers, the works, were milling around the walk-up windows and spilling off the curb into the street. The humming streetlight, orbited by summer bugs, lit the style parade in garish relief.

Nick didn’t really belong to any one crowd. He had friends of all kinds. He himself was just the generic T-shirt and jeans type. During spring and fall he would add a Levi jacket, and then come winter he wore a parka, just like everyone else.

By the time Nick turned left onto Second Street, the Bass had already parked under a streetlight and was sitting on the hood of his car, talking to a girl in a very short skirt and a white halter top. Nick pulled up close behind and saw that the girl was Lisa Tellie, one of the Bass’s many girlfriends. She was a year younger than them, but she knew lots of girls so Nick saw this as a positive development. Just as he got out of his car a crack of thunder announced the imminent arrival of the storm.

Lisa smiled at Nick and waved. Hey Nick! How’s it going? Without waiting for an answer, she flung her arms around the Bass and gave him a quick kiss. See you soon. Don’t make me wait too long. Love you!

They both watched her as she ran across the street, and was swallowed up by the crowd in front of the Dairy Queen.

Dude, what was that all about? Nick asked, as he pocketed his keys.

The Bass slid off the car, grinning. That’s why I've been looking for you, dude. Lisa’s mom is out of town. She has the whole trailer to herself, so it’s party time! I’m not sure who’s going to be there, but Lisa said she invited a bunch of chicks. I have a feeling this is going to be your lucky night, my man! It’s gonna be great!

Oh, God. Come on, Bass.

This is it, Nick, I tell ya! This is the night.

Yeah, well, you always say that, Nick replied glumly.

No, man, this is different! Can’t you feel it? Tonight is going to be wild!

Nick was doubtful, but he appreciated his friend’s enthusiasm.

Come on, dude! Lock up your car and let’s go!

The Bass hopped into the Malibu, and Nick jumped into the passenger seat, just as the rain finally started to fall. Once again, the orange Chevelle tore down Main Street.

Nick had been in this car too many times to count. He loved it. The machine was an extension of its owner. It was fast, a muscle car with huge back tires, the works. But the Bass had made no attempt to preserve the car’s showroom looks. In fact, he had gone to great pains to personalize the vehicle. Nick’s best friend loved his heavy metal loud, so at some point he had torn apart the dash and installed a massive stereo system. Holes had been cut into every possible surface and stuffed with speakers, with very little thought for aesthetics. The floor, top of the dash, and back window area were lined with some sort of purple shag carpet, and for some reason, the Bass had screwed an oval mirror into the roof of the car, so that when it rained, as it was now doing, water dripped into the back seat. Just like the Bass, the Malibu wasn’t a looker, but it meant business. And for Nick, it was one of his favorite places. Some of the very best times of his life had been spent cruising in this car.

Nick watched the lights of Main Street distort in the rain hitting the windshield.

Where’re we going? he asked. They were headed north, but Lisa lived on the south end of town.

I told Brad I would come and pick him up as soon as I found you. His car is broke down right now. Water pump, I think.

Is his uncle coming?

Who, Ben? Ben Murphy? Na, he’s got to work tonight.

Too bad, I like that guy.

Aw, he’s all blow since he got back from California.

So you and Lisa are back together, huh? Nick asked, changing the subject. When did that happen?

The Bass looked over at Nick with a