The Edifice

10. Street Smarts

I stumble my way through half a mile of woodland, each step driving a spike of numbness deep into my mind. Thinking can no longer be a priority.

Twice along my trek I was stopped by the crackling of some monstrous creature treading through the thick undergrowth around me, forcing me to hunker immobile behind the closest tree until the footsteps faded. The harrowing red moon still haunts the sky above me, but my brain has long since abandoned any thought of interpreting its presence.

I simply pray that at any second the eclipse will pass, returning pale light to the woods around me. Only the threat of hypothermia and those awful, heavy footsteps motivate me to keep moving.

Twenty minutes later, a long stretch of highway thrusts itself into my path.

Collapsing on the icy tarmac, I let myself feel the weight of tonight's ordeal crush down upon my chest. I'm too exhausted to even count how much time has passed since my last full night of sleep. Cool mist settles on my lashes as they flutter closed, finally bringing peace from that malevolent red light.

Sleep almost claims me right here on this empty stretch of road.

I can't quite place the sound that stops me passing out altogether. Some distant hum, low enough that it should be putting me to sleep, if anything. But instead it dredges up an entirely different emotion from deep in my psyche. Terror. Pain. Loss.

The shriek of metal on metal. Screams. My lips twist into a frown at the nostalgia for such foreign sounds, even though I'm sure I've never heard them myself before. Why can I smell my mother's perfume?

Shit.

It's an oncoming car.

I jolt to my feet and off the tarmac as headlights flood the fog of the highway in a blaze of yellow. A lone vehicle flies down the road towards me, slowing slightly as it moves into the icy mist.

An oncoming car!

My situation comes back to me just in time for me to leap back into the middle of the road, waving desperately for help. Please see me. Please see me.

The car rolls to a halt. The driver doesn't switch off the ignition but the passenger window slides open with a long squeak and a woman's face peers out at me from the driver's seat. I race hurriedly across to her, heart thudding with relief. A woman. Thank God.

"Please, you have to help me," I plead gratefully, hesitating the closer I come to the door. I've never hitch-hiked before. While I have little choice right now, midnight in the middle of nowhere isn't really the setting in which I want to start.

She stares at me dubiously, eyes raking their way up my mud-stained dress and the stocking torn to shreds by my hike through the woods.

"R'thgut algar?" Her voice is as coarse as an aged smoker's, stern tone offering no room for humour.

"I- What?" I ask, cupping my ear in case I misheard her. "Pardon me?"

Something like static buzzes in my ear. A single jolt of pain spears between my temples and disappears as quickly as it arrived. The sounds of the churning car motor and crickets in the night return clearly. When the strange woman next speaks, I catch the heavily accented English clearly, though her mouth seems to move oddly around the words.

"Touch it!"

She thrusts something across at me, a long, iron crucifix scraping the rubber of the car window. Almost as long as my forearm, it thuds as heavily as it looks when she shakes it insistently at me.

"No, uh... n-no thank you. I think I'm lost. I need a lift back to town," I stammer.

"Touch it!" She repeats, this time far more aggressively.

Too shocked to argue, I reach out and grab the crucifix, the rusted iron flaking in my palm. I hold it up so she can see. The woman's withered face visibly relaxes and with a startling click, the passenger door pops open.

"Good. Come in. I'm sorry, but you just can't be too careful around this stretch of road. Too many accidents here."

This isn't such a good idea as I first thought...

I make no move to enter the car, but crouch lower to check the backseat suspiciously. When it comes up empty, I inspect her instead. She's surely in her sixties at least and despite her weird and grizzled voice, an earnest face nods warmly back at me. She raises her hands passively.

"I touched the iron too, remember. I'm human too. It's ok. I'll take you home, sweetie. Goodness knows us folks have got to look put for ourselves round here."

Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

With a final pleading look back up the highway, I climb inside.

The heat of the roaring air-conditioning is an instant and welcome relief as I hunker down into the passenger seat with a grateful sigh. My words are little more than a coarse breath. "Thank you."

"Its not a problem, sweetie," she replies, throwing the car back into gear and returning to the road. "Where are you headed? Someone hasn't hurt you, have they?"

"I... I think I need to go to the hospital," I admit, cupping my icy hands in front of the air vent. "I haven't been feeling myself tonight. I- Were we supposed to have a lunar eclipse?"

Her bushy brow furrows suspiciously as she shoots me a sideways glance. "Have you taken anything tonight, love? Not that awful Fairydust?"

"I don't know what that is."

As though in sudden concern for me, the car begins to accelerate through the night. Relaxing slightly under her worrying, my gaze turns to the car itself, narrowing at how strange it too seems. The inner furnishings are of some shiny material I've never seen before and it's more spacious than it's cheap-appearing interior has any right to be. I'd have to stretch my arms high above my head to even try touching the roof.

"Well, the nearest hospital is in the city, so it shouldn't be too long," she says, shooting me another worried glance. "Try and rest up. Do you have any water?"

I don't, but I follow her advice and rest my eyes, trying to push the image of the sinking concrete and burning pentagram from my mind. To absolutely no avail. My cropped fingernails scrape through the holes in my stockings as I clutch my thighs, trying to keep myself grounded. I don't know what's worse, keeping my aching eyes open to the red moonlight or losing my sight to darkness. The underside of my eyelids is all too reminiscent of that infinite, leech-infested abyss I've only just escaped.

The closest city of Mayville is at least an hour out from Hersely, but we're greeted by flashing streetlights mere minutes into the drive. I crane my neck to try and get a glimpse of the highway exit signs. Nothing familiar. Oh God. How far did I travel under the influence of whatever substance had gripped me?

My rescuer, though she's yet to offer her name purses her lips as she slows down on the newly bustling urban streets. The glances she throws my way become more and more frequent and I steadily feel the atmosphere in the car begin to sour. Something's on her mind and I'm not sure if I'm ready to face it.

"You're not from Edifice, are you?" she finally asks in a rush, like she's been holding the words in for the entire journey.

"Uh..." I respond. Surely I can't be hearing her correctly.

"You're from Earth. Am I right?" Her voice is hushed and breathless with eagerness.

"Um, yeah...?"

Aren't we all? God, I hope this delirium isn't infectious. If I've passed on my outlandish trip onto the person currently in charge of steering this metal death trap, we're in big trouble. Thankfully, my answer seems to satisfy her for the moment and she returns to the uncomfortable silence we'd fallen into.

I couldn't be more eager to jump from the car when she pulls up outside an enormous building so unpassionately designed that it could only be a medical centre. My hand just reaches for the door handle when the locking mechanism clicks shut.

Ah, Hell.

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