Strange Worlds

By Paul Clayton

"Clayton's strong character writing carries the book…" — Publishers Weekly

 

In the future, the love of a young man's life is slowly dying. He would do almost anything to keep her alive…except that! — Amything

In Dog Man, it turns out that Oscar the tomcat was just misunderstood — with deadly consequences…

A love sick young man attempts to tap the power of an ancient religion to secure the affections of a girl on their class trip to Christland…

The dead come briefly back to life every year when the astral dimensions align in Day, or Two, of The Dead. A young man is mildly amused by it all until one man in particular insists on coming to his house…

A cynical young 'player', adrift in the modern, amoral age, meets God on a mountain top and his life is changed forever — but not in the way he'd ever imagined.

Clayton channels the spirits of Huxley, Orwell and Philip K. Dick in these and ten other intelligent, provocative and highly entertaining stories.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Clayton
• Release date: Jul 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393114055

Book preview

The Triumph

Guinevere O’Rourke approached the steps of the Sea Haven High School gymnasium and paused. Across the street, the gold cross atop Holy Redeemer Church caught the light of the setting sun. The sight soothed her a little. A scream came from inside the darkened gym. The cries and calls of the townspeople, those still locked up inside the equipment room, were heart rending.

Gwinney! someone shouted.

Guinevere recognized the voice as belonging to Mr. Stroud, the owner of Stroud’s Candy up on the boardwalk. In his sixties, Mr. Stroud was still a powerful man. He’d been a volunteer fireman since his twenties. She remembered his hairy, muscled arms lifting her up onto the fire truck at the Veterans Day parade.

Gwinney! His voice broke with emotion. Help me, please, for Christ’s sake. He said something else, but his words were drowned out by the pitiful cries of the others imprisoned inside.

She tried not to listen. They screamed at her to save them. She was trying, damn it! That’s why she was here. And maybe, just maybe, she would. Dr. Katz seemed to think they could. But they, she, would not really know until she went in—there. And in order to do that she had to steel herself—for every molecule in her body was screaming at her to turn and run and never stop running. So, she shut out their pitiful screams, concentrating instead on the hymn that her grandma used to hum in her last days, when the pain of her cancer was too much for her.

Guinevere’s body felt afire. She wiped the sweat from her brow. The day was cool, but the dye Dr. Katz had injected into her veins was still heating up her blood. Dr. Katz had said the effect would only last about a half an hour. And that meant that they had to do this thing right away if it was going to work.

Guinevere had found Dr. Katz in his offices. It was the day after the thing had rounded up half the population of Sea Haven by sending them the notice. Typed on County stationary, It told them to come in and pick up a check, their part of the class action suit the County had filed against the Army Corp of Engineers for their dredging in the bay. It was a good ploy. Money talked, as the saying went, and they had all walked right on down to line up at the school hall that morning. And the thing had gotten hold of them all as easily as ordering four dozen pizzas over the telephone.

Guinevere had gotten the notice too but had not gone. She had been so depressed over David’s walking out of her life, that free gold bars would not have gotten her out of the house.

Strange, she thought, as she stood facing the school gym, the screams and cries ringing in her ears, she could not bring David’s face to mind anymore, nor his lame excuses. She now realized how petty that loss was compared to what so many others on Sea Haven had lost, and what she could possibly lose here and now.

Be positive, she told herself. Remember Grandma. Remember the hymn. Glory, glory, glory... That was all she remembered. The melody gave her strength and she hummed it under her breath, partially drowning out their cries. Remember what Dr. Katz had said, she scolded herself. He believed in her. And he believed this plan would work. In fact, he had showed her the dye working. Well, sort of, under a microscope. And if it didn’t work, they were both dead anyway, for it would find them eventually as it had all the others.

There was no way out of Sea Haven. All the boats were gone, and the causeway had been severed by a gravel barge which mysteriously floated free of its mooring on the night when it all began. That’s what one of the men in the equipment room had said.

And what in God’s name was happening on the mainland? There was only the hiss of static on the radio, noisy white snow on the TV. After driving around for hours, Guinevere had found Dr. Katz at the medical building. She had opened a door and there he was, looking into a microscope.

You surprised me, Dr. Katz had said, I had no idea there was anyone left free.

Guinevere shook her head. No one but me, as far as I know. I drove all over until I ran out of gas.

Dr. Katz was middle age chubby, with soft brown, expressive eyes. He stuck a finger under his yarmulke to scratch his scalp. He has the entire town’s Rh’s.

Not all of them said Guinevere.

You’re Rh?

Guinevere nodded. I got the letter telling me to go to the school but didn’t. Why did It corral Rh’s?

Dr. Katz frowned. I’ve found some drained of their blood. He evidently needs it to survive.

Guinevere’s stomach twisted at the thought.

They’re the lucky ones, said Dr. Katz. The others...

I know, said Guinevere. I was in the cage, you know, the equipment room at the gym.

Dr. Katz’ face was rapt with interest.

But how did you end up in there if you didn’t go with the others when you received that notification?

Guinevere cried softly. It...took me there. I was asleep. I remember waking suddenly and being aware of something in the bedroom with me. I think It drugged me because that’s all I remember and the next thing I know I’m waking up in the cage with the others. Guinevere shook her head as if trying to shake the memory.

How did you escape?

I was in the back when It showed up at the door. It was really dark. Then It stuck its arm, or foot through. Everybody screamed and ran to the back so It wouldn’t pick them. I was pushed up against the fence. Some man... he was unconscious on the floor... had sawn some of the chain links of the fence open with a key or something. There was just enough room for me to squeeze through. Some older guy tried to follow me, but I think It got him when he got stuck.

Guinevere shuddered at the thought. What is It, anyway? she said.

An annelid, but a manmade variety.

Guinevere’s face screwed up in disgust. Annelid?

Annelid worm, you know, leeches. It has human DNA too and is probably some kind of human/annelid hybrid.

But how can a worm be so strong?

Dr. Katz smiled a sad little smile. Ever try to put one on a fishhook? Relative to their size, they’re hundreds of times stronger than a human.

Oh, God. Guinevere’s heart began pounding. There’s gotta be a way off the island?

Dr. Katz shook his head. No. He began putting on his backpack. I’m afraid not.

Where are you going? she asked.

Where it all started. GenecisTech. I need more samples.

I’m going with you.

***

The sun was setting as they parked Dr. Katz’ Volvo in the GenecisTech parking lot. The building was low, modern, and window-less, with handprint-activated security systems in every room. It covered a city block. Guinevere remembered the controversy when they had started building it. Initially a lot of people were against it. She remembered Father Fahey and some nuns, and other, mostly older people, marching around in a little circle out front with their signs. Nobody else seemed to have had the experience or vision to anticipate something like this.

‘Vampires,’ her friends had disparagingly called the protestors. But money flowed in and GenecisTech was built. Guinevere recalled how hardly any of the GenecisTech employees lived on the island. Every evening they’d get into their little luxury cars and race across the causeway to the mainland, every evening that is, until ‘that’ evening.

The glass doors and metal frame of the main entrance were smashed outward as if someone had driven a car through it. Somewhere deep inside the building a fire alarm rang. Dr. Katz swung his backpack off his shoulder and took out a plastic bag and a pair of metal tongs. He knelt to pick up something that looked like black gelatin.

Sample, he said, dropping it into the bag. He got to his feet. Let’s go.

The building was a shambles, with broken glass everywhere, some walls smeared with blood. All the doors had been smashed through. They entered a small office and Guinevere stopped. Two booted feet stuck out from under a large polished mahogany desk. Dr. Katz gave one a tug and it came clear of the desk, just a booted foot, a shattered tibia protruding from it.

Guinevere’s eyes clenched shut. She felt faint.

Dr. Katz got to his feet and led her back out into the hallway. Are you okay? he said.

She nodded, unable to speak.

They continued their exploration, coming to a door leading into a large lab with strange machines, refrigerators, and computers. Dr. Katz paused.

Is it safe here? Guinevere asked. I mean, what if It comes back here?

He moves rather slowly, from what I’ve gathered. We’re safe for now.

"Why do you keep saying he?"

Dr. Katz shrugged. Well, It’s neither he nor she. I just say he because it’s easier. He pushed open the door of the lab. I’m going to see if there’s any salvageable gear, then run some tests.

He looked at her momentarily. Maybe you can locate that alarm and turn it off.

Dr. Katz went inside, broken glass crunching under his feet.

Guinevere moved down the corridor toward the sound of the alarm. Dim emergency lights lit the hallways. Passing several darkened rooms, she came to a brightly lit room from which came the whir of computers. A dull thump, followed by a metallic click, sounded every now and then as if someone were pushing a switch somewhere.

Guinevere stepped over the rubble and went inside. She saw a large monitor, computer code scrolling across the screen. Racks of servers whirred busily, little LEDs blinking. The thump and click came again from the other side of a row of file cabinets. Guinevere frowned. The cabinets seemed to have been hastily stacked as if to create a defensive barricade.

Guinevere walked the length of the room, coming to a gap of about three inches. She peered through and saw someone’s arm with what appeared to be silver bracelets around it. Their hand was poised on a handprint identifier mounted on the wall. The hand pushed against the identifier with a click and the facing plate of the identifier lit. The arm relaxed, but its owner did not remove his hand from the identifier.

Hello? Guinevere called.

They didn’t answer. Guinevere frowned and followed the cabinets to the end of the room. The last one lay on its side and she stepped up onto it. She froze at what she saw—a severed arm was attached to the wall with metal brackets—the bracelets she’d seen. The stump of the arm was enclosed in a plastic bag with clear plastic tubing running into and out of it. A human heart had been attached to the wall at the other end of one of the tubes, a plastic bag full of blood hanging from it. Colored wires connected it all up to the computer.

The computers whirred suddenly, and the heart convulsed, sending a red spurt of blood through the tube to the arm, which then flexed spastically, driving the hand into the plate of the identifier with a click. Guinevere felt faint, leaning against the cabinet to steady herself.

Every time the mainframe needs a permission, It sends a signal to his arm, driving the hand into the identifier. Dr. Katz was standing behind her.

Jesus, said Guinevere, revulsion threatening to sicken her, whose arm?

Probably the CEO’s.

Guinevere shook her head in disbelief. God... tearing someone to pieces like that and then using the parts. It’s so gross, so...

It’s evil, said Dr. Katz. He ripped the wires from the gruesome machine. And evil has always been with us. Sometimes it dresses up in snazzy uniforms, sometimes in white smocks.

Dr. Katz scanned the racks of computers. It would be very interesting to get into the system and see what he’s up to. But there’s more important work to do now. He led Guinevere back out into the hall.

Let’s see if we can find that alarm. It’s giving me a headache.

They walked down the corridor. Dr. Katz opened a fire escape door and a metallic cacophony assaulted them. He opened a circuit box and threw a switch. Thick silence like wet cardboard hung heavily.

***

In the lab, Guinevere stared out the window at the blackness. A squall was passing overhead, wind-driven rain splattering noisily against the glass. Dr. Katz worked at one of the tables. Every so often she glanced at the darkened doorway. Dr. Katz didn’t think It could catch them here, but Guinevere wasn’t so sure.

Guinevere. Come here.

She walked over. Dr. Katz was smiling.

Look in there and tell me what you see.

Guinevere peered into the microscope. It looks like wool or felt.

Dr. Katz shook his head. It’s him. A very dead piece of him.

Is that the stuff you found by the door?

Yes. I added a dye to make it easier to view the cell structure and it caused a total breakdown.

How does that help us?

If he ingests the dye, even a tiny amount, he dries up. Ever see what happens when salt is applied to a snail?

Guinevere nodded. But how do we get dye into him?

If the dye... Dr. Katz paused, his brown eyes looking deep into hers, if it was in the blood of one of the Rh’s, and he attempted to feed off them...

Guinevere’s heart leapt in her chest at what he was suggesting. She certainly could never go back there and allow herself to be some kind of bait!

Dr. Katz’ kindly brown eyes seemed to read her mind. If I could get close enough to the cage, I could inject the others... or him.

Guinevere nodded tiredly. I have to get some sleep.

Dr. Katz smiled sadly. Of course. He turned around to his microscope.

***

Guinevere laid her head back in a big swivel chair, willing sleep to come. It wouldn’t. Every time she was at the point of drifting off she’d dream that the thing was approaching and jerk to wakefulness. How could people create such a thing, her mind raged? Didn’t they anticipate the dangers?

Guinevere sat up. Her heart was pounding, and she was soaked with sweat. The lights were dim. Dr. Katz worked with his back to her in a soft pool of yellow light. She had to get away, but her gas tank was empty. She remembered Dr. Katz’s Volvo. She got quietly to her feet. She crept soundlessly to the entrance and went out.

The rain had stopped, leaving scattered puddles in the parking lot. Guinevere peered into the Volvo. The keys were in the ignition. She got in and started it, driving slowly down Atlantic Avenue. She turned onto the causeway. At the straightaway, she stepped down hard on the accelerator. ‘Careful,’ a voice in her head said, ‘the causeway’s been severed.’ That’s what the man in the cage had said. Maybe it was a lie, or maybe he was mistaken, she thought frantically as she sped down the darkened highway. Her mind raced. There might be boats. Or maybe she could swim it. Guinevere knew only that she had to get away.

The speedometer read 80 as the Volvo’s headlights carved a hole through the blackness, white stitching disappearing below. Guinevere screamed and slammed on the brakes. A void appeared before her. In the distance, twisted steel reinforcing rods stuck out of the concrete supports of the causeway on the other side of the chasm. She turned the car off and got out. Another ten feet and the car would have