Chain Link Fence Part 3, Chapters 1&2 (770 hits)
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Submitted by TaK (View user info) at 2004-01-22 17:47:44 EST
**See my reply at bottom for previous chapters if you need them.** ____________________________________________________________________________________________________
~The Links Between~
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~Bathos, Zenith, Nadir~
Chapter 1:
"Lady Cop"
It was the light that woke her. The darkness behind her eyelids had been interrupted by sharp streaks of pinks and reds, and she was unsure of where she was at first, like a child awaking in a strange room. One thing she was sure of was that her back and left arm were screaming at her like two long-winded banshees, and then came the realization of where she had lain down to sleep last night. Her ears were still covered and her hair still held down in a strip across the top of her head by the earphones she had fallen asleep wearing. The inside of her little stake-out van swam laboriously into the field of her vision, like a glimpse of something poignantly outlined behind the rapid current of a waterfall, and she noticed only after careful scrutiny of her surroundings that the side door to her van was a little more than half open; the morning sun allowed to stream confidently in upon her and her sleepy eyes.
She glanced at her wrist, remembered she didn't have a watch, and sighed. She didn't have one but the van's radio did, and that meant standing up and moving and all that stuff, and she just didn't have what it took. She knew that today was Friday, and judging by the sun it had to be pretty early, but there was no way she was moving around with her back and arm working this hard against her.
Then she saw the flowers. They were placed simply in the door there, a small bouquet of daisies. Hand-picked. And there was a note, it and the flowers tied together by a small golden band, all in a skinny blue vase. Written in pencil on the front of the folded up note, in a child's hand, was the salutation: "Lady-Cop".
Suddenly it wasn't all that hard for her back or her arm to cooperate, and she sat up and untied the little bow and opened the little note. It was very short. It read:
"I like you a hole lot. Your pritty like a movey star. Please don't come around. I don't want trubble I know you don't just like walky-talky's please don't come around I don't want no trubble.
PS- I hope you found your dog."
It wasn't signed, and she figured there was no reason for it to be, she knew who the author was well enough. Well this just bit the bullet didn't it? Botch had been the only peaceful chance she'd had. The only plus she could think of was that they would have to move on them tonight. At least she wouldn't have to wait until Saturday, it would be over sooner than she had hoped.
She radioed to Vasquez and Sanders again, but there was still no reply. Now where the hell was her team? It wasn't like them to ignore her. She hoped they hadn't decided to do something without her. She struggled with her stubborn body until she was positioned in the front seat and drove to Headquarters. She had just exchanged the thought of the note and flowers for the decision between roast beef or pork for lunch, when her mind was drawn inexorably back to Botch by the sight of the boy being hoisted out of a patrol car and up the granite steps of Police Headquarters.
In handcuffs.
Chapter 2:
"Excessive Clanking"
He had fallen asleep on the goddamn couch again. Wearing his soiled wife-beater and a pair of grungy tightey-whitey's, the dozen or so cans of beer he must have downed before passing out still scattered on the couch and floor, he sat and stared stupidly at the tube hissing a gray and white dotted snowstorm; the reflection of his dumb face stared back at him like he was an idiot. Botch had gone to bed early last night. He had stayed up. Obviously.
The tips of his feet tingled and a thousand pin points of black spread across his vision, converging into an even backdrop of darkness when he tried to stand; head full of lead and no eyes to look through, he stumbled to the bathroom with the direction and agility prone to an old man struggling with obesity and an unsightly case of glaucoma. It took so long for him to finish his business that he began to think maybe the toilet would overflow, but low and behold, he had underestimated his good friend Jon.
Not even needing to look into the eyes of his gaunt reflection in the mirror for confirmation, he knew it had happened as soon as it was done. It happened a lot now. Time had stopped. His watch showed him the facts, the seconds standing at a dead trance on the numbers twenty-three. The fly of his pants still open and his jock still in his hand, Clank stood with his back hunched, poised like a wild animal, every nerve of his body concentrated on listening to the conspicuous silence of the bathroom and for any noise that may break it.
The plastic rings attaching the shower curtain to it's steel pole scratched out a small creak, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get himself to turn around. He knew what was standing there. A collection of pale skin covering a body with no head, just behind the curtain; in the mirror he could see the plastic swaying back and forth gently with the weight of the thing's breath. Slowly, he reached out and drew back the curtain, recoiling before he even saw what was there.
The open neck had had time to congeal and solidify, and the entire front flank of the woman's naked body was covered in dried blood. She stood there with her arms hanging limp against her sides, and her voice bubbled up through the hole in her neck where her head should have been.
"Guess you know who I am, huh," she said, and Clank abruptly turned and bolted from the bathroom, striking his knee in the doorway.
That did not just happen, he thought. It was important that he remember this. He calmly went to the couch and began to dress, re-wearing what he had worn yesterday. He needed to get out of this house, out into the open fresh air and all that hoopla. After checking Botch's room and finding his bed empty, he left the house and drove off down the road in no particular direction. His watch was still trying to tell him that time was not moving, but he ignored it. After awhile he found himself on the beach, trundling down the shore. No one was out this early, and he had the whole strand to himself. The sun seemed to hover only inches above the water on the horizon, the air was filled with the squawking of hungry gulls. Clank walked near the water, watching what appeared to be a shrimp boat not too far out in the ocean. It's deck was sparsely populated with bodies, all moving around in a hurry. Keeping a lazy pace, he went down the beach, and thought about nothing.
So rare were the times where he could find himself capable of thinking about anything except the noise in his head, the constant nagging like a child tapping a parent on the shoulder, that when given the barest few moments he took them as precious. Never mind that he could no longer remember five minutes before what had transpired; never mind that he lived in a constant, reminding terror, arguing with himself, fighting over if he were awake or laid down snoring upon his bed from moment to moment. He took this time as a gift, took the ocean as a gift, and would, until he could no longer.
After a time, he happened to glance back out at the shrimp boat and realized that it appeared to be sinking. It's nose was halfway submerged by the ocean, and the bodies upon it's deck were moving around more desperately now. Clank stopped where he stood and watched the ship go down. It seemed to happen quicker than it should have, but he couldn't rightly tell since he'd never seen a ship sink in real life. His jaw hanging open, he stared awestruck at the sinking boat until it was out of sight, and then moved off again down the shore. He had only gone a few dozen yards when he saw the first of the bodies wash up with a wave to occupy the strand along with him.
It was not exactly a body. It appeared to be only the outline of a man, as if someone had taken a heavy magic marker and roughly sketched the frame of a human in Crayola "Flesh" (or "Peach" for our more PC audience) against the sand and frothing waves. Clank was reminded of the chalk outlines police drew around the final resting place of a cadaver, and did not know exactly how to think about what was happening. Other body-outlines were floating up to shore now, covering the empty beach with their common emptiness. He approached the first one he had seen, and before he reached it's resting spot it gathered itself and stood to face him. He could see the ocean and sky through it, the water wrestled around it's feet and went through the places where bone and flesh should have been.
Clank stood and stared at the man-outline, wondering what he should do. He was debating on offering his hand, or condolences, when he noticed that the feet of the thing in front of him were filling in with color, and he watched as the veins and meat of a leg filled the empty outline. He could see the inside of the man's calf, the blood pulsing through the newly formed foot, and felt like screaming as the matter filled it's way up to the man's thigh's and then his hips, closing the distance to it's head in seconds. Like being painted by an outside force, the body took shape and form in front of him. It filled itself from top to bottom with living substance, as if being poured into and filled by an unseen pitcher of vital life-juices and meat. The growing flesh had advanced all the way to the neck before he recognized the body as being very similar to his own, and he was overly relieved when the face began to fill in and he saw that although the lips resembled his, they were not exact.
The dozens of other outlines lying on the shore were following suit; standing and filling themselves in with substance. Not able to move, Clank watched a top lip take form and flow into the bridge of a nose, then to a pair of brown eyes so strikingly like his own that he felt he was meeting a younger version of himself. The naked body was almost completely filled in now, the eyebrows and finally the forehead taking shape, holding consistency. The flesh moved to the top of the head, and at the moment the hair began to cover the top, the man's mouth opened wide and he made a gagging sound, his eyes filming over with a mucky white-gray mucus. The hair came in full form, and when the last strand had situated, the mouth of the man was filled and projected a beautifully thick stream of the reddest blood Clank had ever seen. It flew from his mouth with force, a strong jet of brilliant life-juice, and landed in the sand with an audible thump.
At that point Clank lost his consciousness, and when he again awoke he was sprawled on his living room's sofa, clad only in his soiled wife-beater and day old under-wear.
He had fallen asleep on the goddamn couch again. He sat and tried to remember what the hell had just happened, if he had been dreaming or not, but nothing would come except a few blurry snapshots of a beach, and something about blood. Shrugging, struggling, he rose and grimaced at the pings in his feet. Then he went to the bathroom, leaving a trail of sandy footprints behind, and took what had to have been a world-record breaking piss.
User Reviews
Submitted by TaK (user info) at 2004-01-23 10:04:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Thanks everyone!
esso_merda, sure man that could be arranged! Of course we're just dreaming right now...publication to me would be a dream come true.
Submitted by Anansie (user info) at 2004-01-23 00:11:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Brickhouse is right. By the way the reason why I don't give feedback in this forum is because I've already given it to you. But I am going to print a copy and go through it with a pen like I said.
Submitted by esso_merda (user info) at 2004-01-22 21:15:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Any special editions for the fourth person? Consistently good.
Submitted by BRICKHOUSE (user info) at 2004-01-22 20:50:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Dont have time to read it all tonight, but it's first on my list of things to do tomorrow morning at work.
And you should look into getting this published, I have read many books far less amazing.
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2004-01-22 19:11:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Sweet!
Submitted by TaK (user info) at 2004-01-22 19:04:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
No problem man, we both know ratings don't mean shit.
Hell, if I get this published, I'll send you a signed copy free of charge for being the third person to read it all the way through!
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2004-01-22 18:20:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
damnit.
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2004-01-22 18:20:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
i love fiction. if you get this published, let me know, i'll buy a copy.
Submitted by TaK (user info) at 2004-01-22 18:10:15 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Hm. Thanks Phinch, I need the feedback. I can clear that up before I send it out to a publishing company.
By the way, thanks again for sticking with me this far and reading all my shit. You and Spike and Brickhouse and esso_merda are my faithful audience, and I appreciate each one of you taking time out!
Oh yea, and you Anansie.
Submitted by Phinch (user info) at 2004-01-22 18:05:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Consistantly awesome Tak.
I was begining to miss Botch and Clank.
<feedback>
in chapter 2, I wasn't sure who was sleeping on the couch until the 5th paragraph. The statement "Botch had gone to bed early last night. He had stayed up. Obviously" was probably put there to clear that up, but it just confused the hell out of me until i figured it was Clank.
</feedback>
Submitted by TaK (user info) at 2004-01-22 17:50:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Previous chapters:
Part 1:
Chapter 1: http://www.ubersite.com/m/22616
Chapter 2: http://www.ubersite.com/m/22679
Chapter 3: http://www.ubersite.com/m/22737
Chapter 4: http://www.ubersite.com/m/22838
Interruption #1: http://www.ubersite.com/m/22949
Part 2:
Chapter 1: http://www.ubersite.com/m/23037
Chapter 2: http://www.ubersite.com/m/23164
Chapter 3: http://www.ubersite.com/m/23234
Chapter 4: http://www.ubersite.com/m/23349
Interruption #2: http://www.ubersite.com/m/23654
Thank you to all who have read this far. Because of you this work (which has taken me 4 years to get to where it is now) is only chapters away from being completed.