The Darkness Within

Chapter 8 - Pay Tribute

The first time I heard Derrick talking to himself, I was shocked. I had seen Jackson do it and then Adam, but still, a part of me thought it was just a weird coincidence. Then Derrick started jabbering away to his invisible friend. That's what Derrick called it — an invisible friend. It got so bad I wondered if we had all fried our brains with too much partying, or if the weed we smoked had been laced with something else. But if it had why was I the only one not acting crazy?

Jackson decided we should say goodbye to Adam by going back up to the old tunnel. He said it was the first place we bonded, so it made sense that we should say our farewells to Adam up there. It seemed like a good idea that night, especially after a half dozen beers. Like before, we hiked up the trail. This time Jackson brought the flashlight. Along the way, we stopped and smoked some weed. By the time, we got to the top I had quite a buzz on. We stood on the ledge next to the mine shaft and lifted our beer cans in the air and shouted out Adam's name.

Jackson had been pretty quiet on the way up, but now he started to talk like crazy. His words rushed out. His voice was full of excitement, and he was laughing a lot. He pointed to the mine shaft and told us that's where he first encountered the thing. That meeting it had changed his life. How it had made him see things clearly for the first time.

It took a few moments for my booze and weed filled brain to realize Jackson was talking like he was back at Chantel's house. He was talking about that thing he said followed him out of the mine shaft.

Jackson was pacing back and forth and chattering on about how the thing needed tribute. That's what he called it, tribute. I remember thinking tribute was an odd word.

It was then that Jackson pulled out the gun. I don't know what I thought when I first saw it. Okay, I do remember thinking it was all a joke. That Jackson was just messing around with some toy gun. But then Jackson started waving the flashlight around, and the light shone on the gun, and I realized the gun was real.

Guns are a big part of small town living. Most people I know have one or two. My parents keep theirs on the top of the fridge. As a kid, I remember watching my dad clean it. There were warnings about keeping your hands off the gun, but the gun was never put anywhere I couldn't get at it if I wanted to. There was no gun safe in the house. Most the time the gun was kept in a kitchen drawer or the top of the fridge.

Jackson had a real gun, and he pointed it at me. He said he was sorry he had to do it. He told me how much he liked me. That all of us were the best friends he ever had. But he had no choice — tribute had to be paid. Killing Adam had not been enough. That once it was all over, the thing would be happy again, and Jackson would have some peace for a while.

The gun pointed at me kept me frozen. Not in fear, but in that numbness again that had never left me since Adam's death. Nothing had felt real since Adam died.

Derrick shouted out and made a lunge for Jackson. Their bodies tangled together and then I heard the shot. Derrick stumbled back, his hands covering his stomach. Blood oozed out from between Derrick's fingers. That smell was there again. The one from my nightmares — that copper smell of blood. As Derrick fell, Jackson pounced on him. There is no other way to describe it. Jackson no longer seemed like a person, but an animal. His eyes were wide. His mouth opened, and his teeth showed as he began to growl. He pulled out a knife from his coat pocket, and he sliced it across Derrick's throat. There was the sound of a gurgling and blood began to pump, to spurt out from Derrick's neck.

It was that moment the numbness left. It was replaced with panic, with fear, with a rush of adrenaline. I was no longer a bystander numbly watching life go by. I was there, awake for the first time in weeks. My drugged mine suddenly sharp, the cobwebs cleared away by the panic that filled me.

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