The Bubble

Part 2: The City of the Living Dead

Wombourne, North Carolina was a ghost town. The nearest theater was a town away, they only had one grocery store called "Marty's" and it seemed as if all of their citizens were either a breath away from death or fresh out of the womb. Limb's favorite past-time was taking his old, yellow portable radio, catching the bus to Kitty Hawk and sneaking into the drive-in to watch a movie. It was really simple for him, he even had a spot dug up and ready for his arrival each week that no one had seemed to notice or care about just yet.

That morning Limb's eyes open with an unexplained feeling of unease. He felt his body grew cold, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand only to find mist resting atop his head. He assumed he had another nightmare last night, something that happened a lot. He swung his body over the side of his bed, looked at the alarm clock resting on a stack of books and saw that he was up two hours before the alarm was set.

He crawled out of bed and stumbled to the old, barely functioning television that his mom kept in the living room before purchasing a new one and flipped the switch. Fuzzy colors of red, blue and yellow flashed across his tired, washed out face.

"Reports of a missing fourteen year old child, Carl Henley came in at seven o'clock last night, this will make record for being the fourth missing citizen of Wombourne in a week." The reporters calm, professional voice gave Limb a strong shiver down his spine. He never understood how reporters could stay so calm in times like these. These people could report a murder suicide with a damn-near smile on their faces.

He leaned over and flipped the switch back off, Carl Henley. Limb was finally struck with the memory of having that kid in his sixth grade science class, of course Henley bullied him daily but then again, who didn't? Worry blossomed in the pit of his stomach and made him feel sick.

His eyes, which would have normally fallen heavy from the two hours missing from his sleep, were broad, open. He was trying to piece together bits of the puzzle based off of what he knew from watching the two minutes of television. He had a habit of trying to solve every issue that crossed his path. He worried far more than most kids his age, a bitter-sweet gift. Four kids, that can't be a coincidence, it just can't be. He thought to himself for a moment, only the worst of possibilities flew around his head.

He pushed himself off of the ground and ran to the bisque rotary telephone that hung on the wall directly across from the basement stairs. He picked up the phone and dialed the first number he could think of. After the fifth ring a jaded, "um hello?" met Limb's ear.

"Fred thank god! I was watching the news just now and they said four kids were missing currently, FOUR," Limb screamed as much as he could manage while still maintaining a whispered voice. "And you know who the latest one was? Guess, Carl Henley. The kid from science that use to throw r-rubber bands at my neck. We, we know him, we could be next. What if there's another Michael Myers running around killing people."

Limb, completely out of breath, was impatiently waiting for a response. "Gosh uh that's, wait a min- Limb! It's five fucking thirty in the god damn morning what are yo-"

"Freddie! I'm serious, what if someone's out there trying to murder everyone in this town?.. Hello? Fred.."

The line fell flat, and was met with an angered buzzing sound. Limb hung up the phone with an aggressive sigh. Maybe he was overreacting, perhaps the obsession with horror films fed in to his already growing angst. But something definitely didn't seem right to him and he knew he wouldn't be able to let this go so easily.

He let gravity lead him down the staircase while his mind was immersed in thought, in worry. He wasn't easily scared. In fact, nothing seemed to actually scare him. This just all felt very familiar to him, as if he was a character in the beginning of a Wes Craven film.