A Town Called Evening (Episode IX)

Before the Gate

Luke, Sulley, and Isaac hiked through the night. They arrived outside the Ormirson’s gates some hours before dawn. The brim of their hats sat low over their eyes. Their fleece lined collars were turned against the chill. All three hunched on their horses with their rifles in hand.

Every so often, the beasts needed encouragement. The men pet them and whispered into their peaked ears. The horses snorted in protest, breath curling into the frigid air.

To their credit, they still obeyed.

Drawn behind them, a small trailer trundled. Its load was tightly covered with a tarp. The volume was low, but in the dark, it felt cacophonous. Occasionally, Luke would twist around to ensure that it remained in their possession.

He was second guessing.

The argument with his mother came to his mind.

“You’ve been strange lately. I’m worried.”

“This is why I took that book away, honey.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you: when was the last time you saw Dr. Greene?”

He still didn’t have the book. That was frustrating. Luke felt there would be something important inside its pages. Perhaps there was something within it that would help him better prepare. His stomach did a sick flip. Luke looked over his shoulder into the icy dark.

The forest was still and quiet.

Luke was surprised by this. Both times he’d travelled this path, the ravens and the forest had shown him that it was listening. The point was made and Luke’s in turn. After all, he’d once again come to Evening.

A feeling enveloped Luke, the same that seized him some days ago. The world around him felt unfamiliar. The two friends that rode beside him were suddenly strangers. The taste of plastic was on his tongue. Nothing was real and neither was he. Above, he could not see the stars around the snow-covered canopy.

Could God still see him?

Somewhere, a feathered wing beat once, twice.

Luke glanced at his watch. The hands trembled on its face, his hand vibrating with energy. Today was the third day.

In three days, I will be dead.

Just tell my parents I love them and that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

Day one: he met Grace Kirkwood in the library.

Day two: he’d gone back to Rackham

Day three’s dawn rapidly approached.

Luke, Isaac, and Sulley stopped before the gate. They dismounted. His friends peered through the iron-wrought gates in awe.

“Where did this place come from?” breathed Isaac.

“Mother says it’s been in the family for generations,” Luke answered.

Sulley’s brow wrinkled. “How does no one know about this place? Isn’t this public land? Or is it on the rez?”

Luke shook his head. “Neither. It’s private.”

Isaac pursed his lips. “Evening… is a strange place,” he whispered. “I guess I’m not surprised.”

Luke reflected on his online research: No tourist website. No real estate for sale. Nothing.

Turning to face Isaac, Sulley questioned, “What do you mean?”

Isaac shoved his hands in his pockets. “My family told stories about this town ‘cause of my grandma. Girls going missing, days of night while the rest of the world turns. Seeing this place in person,” he paused to take a small breath, “feels like there’s some truth to what they all said.”

His large dark eyes glinted in the moonlight. “She—my grandma—was in Evening once, long ago.” Isaac’s words slowed in reverie. “It’s an odd story. There was a man who came to town and she fell in love with him. He disappeared, then she did. About a month later, they found her walking along the highway, barefoot and covered in her own blood. No one knows what happened and she wouldn’t go to the police. Everyone figured it was trafficking. Toward the end, when Grandma started losing it, she’d talk about—”

Isaac suddenly stopped himself. “Weird stuff,” he finished.

“It’s relevant,” said Luke. “Tell us.” His tone was sharp, insistent.

They looked at each other. Isaac shifted in the snow. “It wasn’t anything that made sense,” he said. “Not full sentences, just like… ‘the Day of Night, Marrow Month, the bones of virgins, and the blood of vikings’.”

Luke recalled Grace’s letter: “Don’t come back, the day of night is coming.”

He met Luke’s eye. “Did you officially open a missing person’s case?”

There was a missed beat as Luke fumbled for an answer. He didn’t need to find one. Instead, Sulley snorted. “Would you and I be here if he did?”

Shrugging, Isaac said, “good point.”

“It would be too hard to explain,” said Luke. “The family that lives here is too hard to explain. And I don’t want to waste time finding a way that would convince people to get up here. It’ll be too late by then.”

“What do you mean?” demanded Sulley.

“There’s a girl in there,” Luke began. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Grace’s missing poster. He passed it to them. “She’ll be dead by tonight.”

Isaac and Sulley nodded gravely as they leaned close to observe Grace’s photo.

Luke’s eyes narrowed and he drew his arms close to fend off the cold. Building a fire seemed a bad idea; offensive somehow. He looked at the dark library window. A part of him was certain that they already knew he’d arrived. “As far as I know, there are about ten people in there but there could be more,” he continued. He took up a twig and began to sketch the grounds’ layout in the snow.

He then sat back on his haunches and looked at the two men before him. “I’ll be very honest with you, I don’t know what we’re going to see tomorrow. They let me in before. If that happens again, we’ll just take Miss Kirkwood and go”

Neither protested nor gave a sign of discomfort.

“You can leave,” Luke told them.

Sulley placed his index finger beneath the brim of his hat. “Don’t hafta worry ‘bout me,” he said.

The corner of Isaac’s mouth lifted in a smile. “Just tell us what we’re doing.”

Luke’s eyes found their way to the trees. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Our goal is to get Grace, shoot between the eyes, and take their heads off.”

To be continued…