What Not To Do In The Valley

Husker Electrical

John kept eyeing Carver on the drive there. 

"If you're a cleaner, why do you have hospital-grade painkillers?" John asked

Carver's mouth tightened at the corners, letting out a sharp hiss through gritted teeth. "My father raised me to be a doctor like him. I quit when he died, kept his medical stash for emergencies."

John watched him drive for a while. 

"Don't stare like that. I've done surgeries before - you're fine."

The building was a small run-down concrete block with faded blue paint and plastic signs. Just another place to drive past. 

John knocked on the door and waited. 

Carver stood beside him for half a minute before going back to the car and getting ready to leave. John knocked again, then tried to open the door and found it was unlocked. 

The inside was dark, full of tools and broken machines. John investigated the desk, which was covered in papers and dust. There was an old phone. This was more of a storage room than a store and a poorly kept one at that.

Carver wrinkled his nose at the place as John began looking around.

The ceiling creaked above them rhythmically. John felt deeply afraid the roof would come down on them.

Metal creaked in the corner, causing Carver to back away with a deep scowl. Black rubber boots reached out from the hole in the ceiling, perching on wooden shelves. It was a grimy old man with blue overalls and a shotgun.

He jumped down quickly and pointed it at the two of them. "Get outta my house!" He roared. 

John quickly put his hands up. "I just want to talk to you."

The stranger, scruffy and aggressive, turned the gun to Carver. "YOU!"

Carver's eyes were wide and he was shaking. John felt horrible for getting him into this situation and realised he should have waited to do this properly. Carver's crisp white clothes and styled hair made him stand out too much.

John tried to regain the man's attention. "Are you Ted Husker? I tried to call, but you-"

"I'm on break!" He hissed. 

"Okay, okay. I understand now. We can leave right now if you let us."

Ted looked at him, and the gun once again pointed squarely at John. He looked into John's eyes as if he was trying to find something specific behind them.

Ted Husker had a bushy grey beard and wild hair. His lip twitched and his frown lines ran deep. There was something about the way he held himself that had made John want to sprint in the opposite direction. He smelled like strong sandalwood body wash. 

John didn't like his eyes. When he looked at them, the world around went dark and the ground swayed underfoot. 

Ted breathed like a rabid animal and gritted his teeth, shooting John and splattering the papers and tools behind him with blood.

Carver ran at the murderous electrician, who stood frozen in place watching John like he was a grotesque monster he'd barely escaped. 

John was slumped against the desk, watching Carver wrestle the shotgun out of Ted's hand by breaking his arm with a gross wet snap. 

Husker's face contorted in horror but his eyes stayed fixed on John. Burrowing into his soul.

Carver kicked the gun out of reach and yanked loose an extension cord to tie him up. A small avalanche of appliances was caused by the disturbance. John flinched weakly.