Battery

by Will Karn

The sun leaks through his pitiful excuse for shades, the beam seems to follow his every move, dancing on the bridge of his nose. Roger is forced out of the comfort of his dreams into the real world. His body shuffles down the hall towards the bathroom. The cold tile gives him the chills. Wide-awake. He reaches to his left to sift through the stack of newspapers, hoping for a lone comic strip. The shower was unkempt. Green gunk had begun to start calking the tiles, a thin layer of dirt coated the room, and the dust and pollen loitered in the air. He flushes then twists the squeaky knob until a few drops manage to squeeze through the faucet, dries his hands on a ratty rag then proceeds to throw it back into the corner of the room. Roger pulls back the towels hanging on his windows to revile the picturesque Sunday morning, clear blue skies, birds chirping, the kind of day clouds wouldn’t dare show themselves.

Knock Knock

“Its unlocked…”

“You should really lock your door man, and lets get going Earl is waiting outside.”

Roger grabs his phone, knife, and a power bar and dashes out the door. The smell of new car strikes Roger’s nose, Earls A4 stares Roger in the eyes, he sees his reflection in the chrome, and he swallows his pride and hops in the back.

“Where in Tilden are we going to go?” Justin asked with a mouth full of seeds.

“Wildcat and if you spill any of those seeds in my car I’m gonna kick your ass, did you remember the water?”

“Yup I got it.”

“Excellent, Justin you got drop on the gas?”

“I spent all my money on the food and water, ask Roger.”

“Pssh, you know he doesn’t have a cent to his name.”

“You talk about me like I’m not in the car…”

Justin turned the music up and they did not talk for the rest of the car ride. Trees flying by all blending into a blur of green, the clear sky was soon completely shaded by the thick forestry. A calm rushes over Roger, his mussels relaxed, and he was absorbed into nature. Earl angrily parks the car into the spot, throws on the parking break, and hops out. Exited by the day ahead he eagerly grabs his pack and jogs over to the trailhead.

“Hurry up,” Earl screams at the other two. Justin grabs the water and his bag of seeds; Roger fiddles with his new knife as they walk hastily to catch up with Earl.

“Look roger I found you a new jacket,” Justin says picking up the tattered pink sweater. Roger hits it out of his hands and continued to walk. “Aye Earl, are we going to be by the batteries?” Justin asks as they start their hike,

“What batteries?” Roger questions, with a look of bewilderment striking his face.

“Your telling me you haven’t heard the story?” Earl says, astonished and slightly insulted that those words would ever come out of someone’s mouth. Earl takes a swig of water and begins to tell the story of the batteries. “ It all started about two years ago around prom time, three kids about our age were taking a hike when they spot these old giant batteries from the 50’s or something. Well anyway like any kids they decide to get a closer look, and as they get closer the batteries get larger and larger they see a way to get down inside them but you need all three people to get in and out of them easily, so like teenagers they start fucking around in them and they make up a game where one kid would close his eyes ad count while the other two would write their cordinents on the rusty wall of the battery. They played for hours and as it became later and later they had to write higher and higher up on the wall because of the shadow on the wall. It started to get late and like always the kid counted to 60 and went to the wall and fallowed the directions but he couldn’t find his friends he’s searching for a good 30 min yelling their name and everything but no one comes out. He starts to get a little spooked out because its getting dark and they still haven’t come out, so he walks back to the wall and at the top with the last bit of sunlight he reads YOUR FRIENDS ARE DEAD, GAME OVER, he turns his head to see his friends dead carcass’s laying limp on the ground. He went fetal, balled up and rocked back and forth until the police came. The kid was never normal again; he was enlisted into a mental institution. They never found the guy; some say he still wanders Tilden to this day… “

“Bullshit,” Roger blurted. They had almost reached the peak. Roger chugged the last of his water, it tasted stale but he didn’t mind stale expired food was part of his diet. There was a bench in the distance, standing alone this old decrepit wooden bench held the best view in the entire bay. They sat down winded Justin pulls out the joint from his pack, there was no way they could pass up such a pristine moment, the sun had jut started to set behind the golden gate the sky morphed into a purple haze. Justin sparked and they passed it around, about 5 or 6 rotoes by the time they stomped the roach into the dirt the sun had completely set.

“Hold up, I gotta take a piss,” Roger requested. He ran over to a tree not far away, as he stumbled through the darkness he tripped and fell to the ground. Laughter echoed through the valley, he got up slowly, dusted himself, and timidly approached the lone redwood. He unzipped his fly and began to sully the tree bark. It was late and Roger could barely see his own hands. He finished up and headed back in what he believed to be the direction of the wooden bench.

“Earl…Justin, where are you guys,” Roger screamed. Silence. He searched aimlessly “Aye come on guys, quit fucking around its getting dark.” He started to panic, and started rushing down the path towards the car.

Darkness shrouded, his paranoia amplified, every step, every snap of the twigs, every gust of wind sent shivers down his spine.

It’s just like Earl and Justin to do something like this, Roger thought to himself. Those assholes are always trying to pull some shit, why do I even hang out with them all I am is the butt of there jokes. He had drifted off the path all the sudden his foot struck a protruding from the object propelling his body to the ground; he felt cold steel on his cheek. As Roger lifted himself up, he pulled out his phone to feed on the dim blue glow. He began to explore the large metal object, after walking around for a little bit Roger stumbled upon hatch that led down into the rusty metal structure. Roger wasn’t slow he knew where he was. He had found the batteries. The words Game Over burned in his mind.

What if that story was true, what if he’s out there, there’s no way my friends would fuck with me for this long. He took a deep breath and took the plunge into the darkness.

“EARL...JUSTIN,” Roger screamed, the dull blue glow barely allowed him to see the floor. “IS ANYONE DOWN HEAR?” Something felt off, he whipped around. Nothing. He continued to wander around, searching every corner hoping to find some clue to where his friends could have gone. Footsteps.

“HELLO…”

Silence. Roger pulled out his knife and slowly started to back up toward the exit. Time to go, the moonlight shined brightly down through the hatch lighting the wall adjacent. The words jumped off the wall Game Over Roger… He jerked back, shocked, and began to scramble to the exit, only to be met by a hooded silhouette illuminated by the moonlight.

“YOU IT IS TIME TO…” cried the figure. And before it could finish the sentence Roger lunged at it, knife in hand, he tackled the figure to the ground, then proceeded to repeatedly stab the figure in the chest until they gasped for air. There punctured, deflated lungs wouldn’t allow it, so the body went cold. Roger pulled back the hood to see the face of the man he had killed. Earl’s ethereal face looked back at him, with a blank stare, and vacant eyes.

“DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?” Justin shrieked from the shadows. “YOU KILLED HIM, YOU FUCKING KILLED HIM,” Justin kneeled beside Earl’s limp corpse. Roger paced franticly trying to grasp what he had done.

“YOUR GOING TO FUCKING ROT IN A CELL FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE, IT WAS A PRANK YOU MORON.” Justin cried.

“ I..I didn’t mean to, I th..thought he was the killer,” Roger blubbered.

“You’re the killer, and you’re going to pay.”

Thoughts racing, a tormented mind. Treading up and down, back and forth, the large battery seemed to be closing in on Roger. He clenched the knife in his blood soaked hand, tighter, and tighter. Why me, why now… NO, NO not me Them, I didn’t do this They did, its There fault and They should pay. He turned and glared at Justin, he was weeping over Earl’s body. Swiftly he sauntered over, standing above he felt in control, he had the power, his crazed eyes fixated on Justin. “Wh...What are you doing… no, No GET AWAY FROM ME,” Justin screamed. Roger plunged his knife through Justin’s throat and began to violently carve away at his neck, until there was no connection. Sitting in the pool of blood, Roger dropped knife and finally let out a sigh of relief.