Chapter 2 Chapter 2

Leo woke up face down in his pillow with his mouth tasting like something bad as it used to be each time he had such a dream.

He didn't know when he fell asleep. The last thing he remembered was that he was staring at that crack in the ceiling. Next thing the sun was in his face and his neck hurt. He lay there for a bit. Just breathing. Listening to his mum in the kitchen.

The clock said 9:47.

He sat up slowly. His head felt heavy and he was having a dull aching pain behind his eyes. He rubbed his face and sat on the edge of the bed.

His phone was on the nightstand. He checked it. Nothing from Jin yet. “Quite unusual from that noisy crazy lil friend of mine.” He thought to himself and smiled a little as he shook his head.

He got up and went to the kitchen.

His mum was at the table in yesterday's work clothes. Must have come home and just sat down. Her hair was all over her face looking messy lost in thoughts. Her hands were wrapped around her coffee cup just staring at the wall.

She didn't look up.

Leo poured himself a cup of coffee and sat across from her. The chair made that same creaking noise as it always made.

"You look terrible mijo," she said. “What's going on with you? You ain't a kid anymore. You should take care of yourself.”

"Yeah. I could say the same for you. You ain't a kid either."

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Some."

"Some? She said as she looked at him with one eye slightly smaller or lower than the other, a small, crooked, or wavy mouth, and a raised eyebrow on one side."

"A little."

She nodded like she figured that. She took a sip. "You had that dream again."

Not a question. He didn't answer. Just looked at his cup.

She put hers down. "Leo."

"Ma."

"Don't. You need to look after yourself."

"I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You haven't been fine in a long time."

He didn't say anything. What was he going to say? She wasn't wrong.

She put her hand flat on the table. Not reaching for him. Just there. "Where do you go at night?"

"Just…places."

"What places?"

"The old church. The railyard. The station."

Her hand went still. "The station?"

"Grand Street."

"I know which one."

"I think Dad was out there before he disappeared.” He leaned forward. “I think he saw something."

She picked her cup back up. Her fingers weren't quite steady. "Your father fell on the tracks. That's what the police said." Her eyes were wild now.

"They never found a body."

"But they found his boot."

"A boot isn't a body Ma."

She put the cup down too hard. Coffee ran over the side onto the table. She left it.

"You need to stop this," she said pointing her index finger on the table.

"Stop what?" He said with his eyebrows raised.

"He's been gone twelve years." She pressed her hand against her chest. "You think I don't miss him? You think I don't think about him every day? But I can't bring him back. And neither can you." Her eyes were almost teary now.

Leo watched the steam off his cup. "I'm not trying to bring him back."

"Then what are you doing?"

"I want to understand."

"Understand what?”

"Why he went down to those tracks in the middle of the night. What he saw."

She just looked at him. The kitchen was quiet enough to hear the tap dripping.

"You're going to get hurt," she said.

"I'll be okay."

"You don't know that."

"No. I don't."

She pushed her chair back. "I'm going to bed. I had a long night."

She stopped at her bedroom door. Didn't turn around. "I worry about you. You know that."

"Yeah Ma. I know."

She went in and closed the door.

He sat there a while longer. Coffee went cold. He listened to the tap and then to his mum in her room and then to nothing.

Then he went back to his room.

Didn't sleep though.

He opened his laptop. Old things took forever. He went to his blog. Forgotten Thresholds.

He made a post three days ago. Photo of the old hospital. Seventeen views. Two likes. One comment that was just a link to a shoe website.

He stared at it. Then he opened a new post and typed: St. Augustine's Church. No birds. No sound. Just a building waiting to fall down.

He put up yesterday's photo. The church gray against gray sky. Steeple leaning. Windows dark.

Published it. Closed the laptop.

His room was a mess. Clothes on the floor, empty cups everywhere, old maps in the corner. He should have sorted it out but he wasn't going to.

The phone went on.

Jin.

Are you awake?

Yeah.

Come over. I am bored.

He thought about it. He didn't want to see anyone. But sitting here staring at walls wasn't helping.

Fine. Twenty minutes.

Jin's place was across the city. Basement flat in a building that had no business still standing. Stairs creaked on every step. Hallway smelled like fish from a few days back that never quite left.

He knocked and the door opened.

Jin was in sweatpants and a big hoodie with a toothbrush in her hand. Hair still damp.

"About time," she said.

"You said twenty minutes."

"I've been waiting."

She turned and walked back in. He followed.

Her place was small. Bed in the corner, couch against the wall, clothes everywhere, dishes in the sink, half a bag of crisps on the table.

Jin dropped onto the couch and tucked her feet under her. Pointed at the other end. "Sit."

He sat.

She looked him over. "You look rough."

"So I keep hearing."

"Sleep?"

"Some."

"Some!"

"A little. Yeah."

She grabbed the remote and turned the telly on. It landed on some programme with people screaming at each other. Left the volume up.

"Last night," she said.

"What about it?"

"That message. You really didn't send it."

"I really didn't."

"So who did."

"I don't know."

She looked at him that way she had when she was worried but didn't want to say it straight. "You're scared."

"I'm not."

"You are."

Quiet for a second. "Okay. Maybe a bit."

"A bit."

"A lot. Fine."

She nodded. "Good." She turned the telly off. "Tell me about the dreams."

"Rather not."

"Too bad. My flat."

He leaned back and looked at the ceiling. There was a water stain up there shaped a bit like a dog.

"There's something behind a desk," he said. "Really tall. Suit. Its face is all paper and clocks and eyes."

Jin frowned. "Paper and what?"

"Clocks. Little bits of clockwork. Eyes everywhere. I can't explain it better than that."

"That's horrible."

"Yeah."

"It just stares at you?"

"Stare at me. Then speaks."

"What does it say?"

"I can never remember when I wake up. Just this taste in my mouth. Like burned paper."

Jin was quiet. "That's properly messed up Leo."

"I know."

She turned the telly back on. Volume off this time. People arguing in silence.

"What are you going to do," she said.

"Going back tonight."

She looked at him. "To the railyard."

"Yeah."

"After last night."

"Because of last night."

She shook her head. "You've lost it."

"Maybe."

"Definitely. Do you know how dangerous that could turn out to be? You shouldn't be there please. You want me to come," she said.

"No."

"Why not."

"Don't know what's out there. Don't want you near it."

"I can look after myself."

"I know. But this one's mine."

She gave him a long look. Then she shrugged. "Fine. You owe me."

"I always owe you."

"You really do this time."

He left around eight. It's already dark. Rain had started again, that thin mist that soaks through you before you notice.

He walked home. Changed and waited till midnight. Then he left.

When he got out, the streets were empty. The city was quiet in that way that makes you look over your shoulder every few minutes.

He walked to the railyard. Through the gap in the fence. Across the broken asphalt. Chemical plant groaning in the distance like always.

He walked to the parking lot.

The air hit him before he got close. His chest became tight. Ears popping. Cold cutting straight through his jacket.

He stopped at the edge.

Something was wrong with the lot. The cracks in the ground were wider than yesterday. The weeds had gone black. Not dead brown. Actually black, like something had burned them from the inside. The sign was completely gone. Just the bare rusted pole.

He looked down at his feet. The ground felt soft. Like it was breathing.

"I know you're here," he said.

His voice came out smaller than he wanted.

"I know you sent that message."

The air went colder. His breath came out white.

"I know you're in my dreams."

Something moved at the edge of his vision. He turned.

The sinkhole was back. Way bigger this time. Thirty feet maybe. Edges black and jagged. The dirt around it was moving in and out. Like something underneath was breathing through it.

His legs walked toward it. He didn't tell them to.

He got to the edge and looked down.

He saw bones. Loads of them. Some old and yellow and crumbling. Some white and newer. Some with things on them he didn't look at directly. Goosebumps filled his entire body immediately. His hands were shaking. His face went pale.

Then he saw the jacket.

That specific faded blue. His dad's blue.

His stomach dropped out of him.

The bones shifted. Something pushing up from underneath.

A hand came up through the pile. A real hand. Pale and thin with its fingers moving slowly in an abnormal direction.

Leo stumbled back and went down hard. All the air left him.

He looked up.

The hand was still there. Still reaching.

Then the voice came. Not from outside. From inside his head, his chest. Like it had always been in there.

You came back.

He tried to make a sound. But nothing came out.

I knew you would. They always do.

The ground shook vehemently. The sinkhole spread wider. Bones and dirt fell into whatever was underneath. The sound was too deep, like thunder coming up through the ground.

He held his head, closed his eyes and pressed his teeth tightly together. He wanted to scream but the sounds were coming out. The air kept filling his mouth.

Your father came back three times. He cried. He begged. Made promises he couldn't keep.

Leo got up onto his elbows. Arms shaking. "What did you do to him?" His voice came out finally.

The hand pointed at the jacket. At the bones.

He's still here. The part that remembered.

Even after he forgot why he kept coming. Even after he forgot who he was.

The fingers stretched toward Leo.

The same thing that brought you here.

He tried to get up. His legs were stuck. The black liquid was climbing his boots. Past his ankles.

"No."

Yes.

The ground pulled him forward. He clawed at cracks and weeds and anything. The black liquid covered his hands. Nothing held.

He reached the edge.

He looked down.

Every bone was moving now. Climbing over each other. And underneath all of it something dark. No shape. No face. Just something open and waiting.

Ahhhhh! Leo screamed and tore his throat.

The voice came one last time.

Welcome, Player 7,445,212.

The ground opened.

He fell down sideways into the dark. Hands grabbing at his clothes, his hair, his face. Cold fingers everywhere.

Something tore inside his chest. Not his outer skin but deeper.

The last thing his eyes saw was the jacket before everywhere went dark.