The Hum Page 4
“I demand my phone call! My attorney will have a field day with this madness!” Kevin said, as soon as the officer led him towards the back of his patrol car. He didn’t have an attorney, or the money to hire one, but he hoped the threat would scare some sense into the policeman.
“In due time, Mr. Black. First, we’ve got to get you processed, and then you’ll get your call.
“Get me processed? What for? I haven’t done anything wrong!”
The deputy turned on the radio, cranked the volume up high enough to drown Kevin out, and smiled back over his shoulder at him. The speakers blared AC/DC’s Highway to Hell, and Kevin was beginning to think that was exactly where he would end up.
Riding in the back of the patrol car wasn’t anything new to Kevin, but doing so for a crime he didn’t commit was. He was fuming as his mind went back to his previous ride, a ride where the humming had come back to visit him once again. He hadn’t heard it for nearly twelve years, when all of a sudden, it crept its way into his head.
* * *
Kevin departed his small travel trailer around midnight en route to the 24-hour Shell Service Station. He hopped inside his 1984 Ford Ranger pickup, sent up a silent prayer to no one in particular for it to crank over, and eventually departed the area a few minutes later when it roared to life. Roared to life was exactly how the old truck sounded at the late night hour. It’s funny how things always seem louder when you’re trying your best to be quiet, and Kevin wanted to keep a low profile indeed.
Glancing out his window at the small town of Wise, Virginia, Kevin noticed how quiet things felt all around him. The night seemed to sense what he was about to do, almost like it was trying to talk him out of it. It sounded silly, but there was a tangible something in the air whispering “don’t do it” into his ear. It didn’t matter though—the hum had a way of drowning out all other sounds. The slightly overcast sky and the full moon with streaks of red splattered randomly throughout only added to the dreary atmosphere.
The gloomy night almost made him turn around and go back home, but the never-ending humming inside Kevin’s head pushed him forward. He was beginning to make out faint words masked inside the hum, urging him on, pushing him to kill again. He tried dismissing such silliness as tricks of his mind in dealing with the fear of what he was about to do, but it didn’t stop. He even tried slapping himself in the face a few times in an effort to remove the haze, and hopefully snap out of his crazy thoughts—no luck there either.
With no other vehicles on the road at such a late hour, Kevin turned up his bottle of Jack Daniel’s Whiskey. Feeling the burn of the stuff going down his throat, he thought it actually heightened his senses and helped ease the tension in his body. Truthfully, it only dulled his nerves to the night’s madness, and the adrenaline was what set his senses at full alert.
As the Ford Ranger rolled to a stop on the right side of the service station, he repeated the plan out loud to no one in particular. “Go in, get the money and the video footage, and get back to the truck—fifteen minutes tops.”
As he made his way to the front door, Kevin pulled his long jacket flaps up close around his face, and blew warm air into his cupped hands in an effort to get some feeling back in them. The long October nights were averaging between mid-twenty to thirty degree temperatures, but he thought this night felt more like low to mid teens. The adrenaline flowing through his body was actually causing him to break out in cold sweats, which might help explain how chilly his bones were currently feeling. This was something he’d grown accustomed to over the years, thanks to the nightmares.
Kevin still couldn’t believe he was living in the small town of Wise, Virginia. He’d gone from Taos, New Mexico to Michigan, spent a brief two months in Illinois, a year in West Virginia, and somehow ended up in the sleepy redneck town of Wise. It didn’t offer much in the way of entertainment, shopping, or anything else for that matter, but it provided a man in his position a good hiding spot, and he was definitely in need.
Glancing down at his watch, Kevin noted the time was a half past midnight. With such a short timeline, he prayed no other cars would stop by the station until he was long gone from the area. He couldn’t afford to get caught, or he’d end up doing some hard time for sure. Heaven forbid they tie him to the other murders he’d already committed.
As he gingerly stepped inside the door of the station, the scene laid out before him dropped down into slow motion. It felt like one of the older model pickup trucks with a stick shift gear being thrown into low without warning.
Scanning the room, Kevin noted three men total: two of them white, heavyset with burly beards and bald heads, the third, a black guy, medium build, wild looking afro streaked here and there with either bleach or hair dye. All three gave him a suspicious look as he made his way to the counter.
“Can we help you?” The one behind the counter
was the first to speak.
“I need a little bit of what everyone else has been leaving out of here with night after night.” Kevin replied.
The other two made their way over to the counter and stood next to their supposed leader. The black guy said, “We have plenty of beer and snacks to choose from. Help yourself.”
“I wasn’t talking about anything on the shelves. I’d like a little of what you have in the back.”
The three of them eyed Kevin for a few seconds, sizing him up. And then the black guy said, “Do you have what it takes?”
“Will this suffice?” Kevin said, smiling as he opened up his jacket, exposing the one thousand dollars in cash he’d taken from the cashier at the local drug store before he left West Virginia.
Two of the men came out from behind the counter and motioned for Kevin to follow. The back room had a single hanging light that looked like it belonged in someone’s garage. The entire scene screamed trailer park, not a well established service station.
A stocky looking gentleman seated behind the desk in the back room stood up when his two ‘workers’ walked Kevin over in front of him. He looked like he’d been using too much of his own product, as evidenced from his red eyes and nose.
“Well, who do we have here? I haven’t seen you around these parts, mister.”
“The name doesn’t matter. I need five grams.”
“Actually, it does matter. How do I know you’re not working for the local authorities?”
“I’m not working for anyone—I just need something to take the edge off. I brought the cash, do you have the goods or not?” Kevin replied, as the humming intensified. He could feel it egging him on, almost sensing what was about to happen.
The man eyed Kevin suspiciously before bending down and grabbing his order from a locked drawer on the left side of the desk. As he went to set the goods on the desk, Kevin pulled out a shotgun and sent a burst through the man’s chest. It was the first time he’d shot another man, but had there been an eyewitness at the scene, they would’ve said he looked like a professional.
The other two men attempted to rush him, but he quickly pumped rounds into each of them also. By the time the gentleman out front made his way back to the room, Kevin had the weapon waiting for his entrance. The burst from the shotgun picked him up and threw him back about five feet. He landed with a thud against a rack of Lays Potato Chips.
Surveying the damage, Kevin smiled at the ease with which he’d taken out the drug dealers. Making his way over to the desk, he removed all of the drugs and shoved them into the small bag he had inside his jacket. Moving the picture behind the desk aside, he stood gazing at the safe. After securing the key off the dead body of the man that had given him the drugs, he opened it up and removed over $50,000 in bundles of twenties.
On his way to the front door, Kevin heard movement near the rear of the store, and watched as the backdoor slammed back into its frame. Training the shotgun in that direction, h
e walked over and peered outside. Within seconds of the door closing, the station’s security alarm went crazy, causing him to panic. Without thinking, he made a beeline for the woods directly behind the place.
Running on rubber legs only got Kevin about
500 yards into the woodline before he crashed face-first onto the ground. With leaves smashing into his cheeks and forehead, he slowly rolled over onto his back and attempted to gain control of his breathing. Reaching up, he pulled some of the leaves that had somehow stuck to his cheeks free, and tossed them back to the ground.
He quickly noticed that his tongue was rooted to the top of his mouth, and he felt as if he’d been running through the Sahara Desert during the hottest time of the year. Kevin’s tired body was drenched with sweat, as he slowly made his way back up onto weak knees.
CHAPTER 6
When the police sirens came blasting into earshot, Kevin forced himself to his feet and ran further into the woods behind the station. He ran for what felt like an eternity, until his side and his lungs burned from lack of oxygen. When he could no longer hear the police sirens, he slowed to a walk, unaware of his surroundings and with no sense of direction in mind.
After walking around aimlessly for another five minutes, Kevin’s mind started working again, and the questions quickly followed from all directions. Where will I go from here? Did I really kill all of those men back there? No answers presented themselves, only confusion and anguish. But at least the loud humming sound is silent, for now.
Kevin knew the police would find his Ford Ranger and track it back to him, so turning around wasn’t an option. He kept asking himself, why did you panic? Why didn’t you just run back to your truck when that alarm sounded, instead of heading into these blasted woods?
Looking up at the cold October night sky, Kevin noticed the streaks of black splashed throughout the surface of the full moon. They hadn’t been there before, and their presence now sent his heart racing. The scene only added to his fear, as he wandered around in the woods with the police chasing after him, poised to kill if the opportunity presented itself.
When Kevin heard the rustling of leaves and twigs snapping to his immediate front, he monetarily froze in his tracks and held his breath in an effort to get an azimuth on the movement. This was no easy task since his heart was doing double time, and every instinct told him to flee the area.
The movement stopped abruptly, almost as quickly as it had started. When a full two minutes passed without a sound, Kevin attributed it to a possible squirrel or even a nasty possum wandering around in the woods. He’d killed enough of the pesky critters to know they were all over the place in the Appalachia’s. Dismissing his fears, he continued deeper into the woods at a brisk pace.
With dawn slowly approaching and exhaustion consuming his body, Kevin began looking for an area to hide and rest for a while. He made his way into a clearing surrounded by four evenly spaced trees, forming a perfect square. Off to the left of one of the monster oaks, he noticed a small trail leading to what appeared to be a built up pile of underbrush.
Curiosity led him over to that well kempt path, and when he made it to the underbrush he noticed that it was a pile of limbs covering some sort of concrete looking object. More than a few things struck him as weird that day: the pathway was completely clear of any leaves and limbs, the fact that someone had gone to great lengths to hide the obvious entrance to something, and the irony of the two. Why have a trail leading to something you want hidden? With his curiosity piqued, Kevin began the arduous task of removing the limbs, completely depleting what was left of his energy.
With all of the limbs thrown haphazardly around the concrete structure, Kevin noticed what appeared to be a steel handle situated in the center of the circular object. Looking at the thing, he was instantly reminded of a man-hole cover, but the diameter was over four feet. He knew he wouldn’t be able to lift the lid, but something inside him insisted he try.
Kevin took a second to look around the area, just to make sure no one was giving pursuit. He sensed a presence watching his every move, but he quickly wrote it off as just nerves. Satisfied that he was alone, he grasped the cover with both hands and ripped it off like it was nothing more than a paperweight. In misjudging the weight of the cover, he almost toppled headfirst into the black hole below, as the cover flew from his hands and landed five feet behind him. What had initially appeared to be made of concrete actually turned out to be either plastic or maybe even vinyl.
Pulling himself together, Kevin leaned over the entrance to the hole and peered inside. He couldn’t make out more than a few rungs of a ladder connected to the top of the hole, disappearing down into the darkness below. He lowered himself onto his stomach, peering even deeper into the hole, but still failed to see anything more.
Knowing that he needed a place to rest and hideout, Kevin forced his fear of tight spaces aside and hopped in. Making his way down the ladder into the darkness below, his mind tried to drift back to the refrigerator incident with his brother Wayne. Focusing on the task at hand, he remembered the cigarette lighter in the pocket of his slacks.
Leaning in and holding onto the ladder with one hand, Kevin pulled out the small lighter and flicked the thing to life. After readjusting his hold on the ladder, he peered down into the abyss as far as the light would allow. The only thing he could make out was the obvious: the ladder and the dirt floor below. The small glow didn’t provide enough visibility to see much more, so he shut it off and made his way down to the bottom rung, before striking it back to life.
When the flame illuminated his surroundings, Kevin let out a loud scream and shot back up the ladder as fast as his legs would take him. He dropped the lighter in the process of trying to hold on to the rungs at such a high rate of speed. Just as he made it to the top, he heard movement and suddenly what little light the open hole provided was blotted out, as someone dropped the cover back into place.
Trying not to panic, Kevin pounded on the bottom of the cover, thinking he’d either be able to break it or at least throw it back off. When his hand smacked into the bottom of the thing, he let out another loud scream. What was once plastic or vinyl had somehow become solid concrete, and wouldn’t budge.
Nursing a bloodied and possibly broken paw, Kevin screamed for help—although, he didn’t expect anyone to come to his aid. Whoever had placed the concrete cover onto the hole did so with the intentions of keeping him inside.
When his cries for help failed to yield any results, Kevin decided to brave the abyss down below once again. He told himself, “maybe your eyes were just playing tricks on you. That couldn’t have possibly been what you thought it was. How did they get down there?
As he stepped off the last rung of the ladder, he felt around on the floor of the cavern for his lighter. The earth was cold and slightly damp in his hands, and it felt kind of like clay. His hands guided him, until he happened upon what he thought was his lighter. When he went to flick the wheel to light it up, he realized that it wasn’t his lighter after all. He wasn’t sure what he had in his hand, but it was hard with a few ridges throughout. It also felt sharp and had five little spikes jutting out from a four inch diameter circle—a circle star. A sharp prick to the center of his palm caused him to throw the object off to the side, and then he got back down on his hands and knees to continue his search for the lighter.
After what felt like an eternity, Kevin’s hand came across another object that he felt certain was the lighter. When he rolled the wheel with his right thumb, it lit up a small space of about five feet all around him. His attention was immediately drawn back to what he’d thought he’d seen when he first struck the thing to life just minutes earlier. When he saw nothing, he wasn’t sure whether to be happy or afraid; part of him was thankful those shapes weren’t what he’d originally thought, but another part was fearful he might be losing it. He would’ve sworn he’
d seen nine bodies lying in a heap on top of each other, not more than five feet from the ladder. Now, there was nothing.
“Aw!” The lighter got so hot it burned Kevin’s thumb, so he had to blow on it to cool it down. He waited in fear and anxiety for the mini torch to cool off, and then he rolled it back to life.
Unsure of what else to do, Kevin crept further south down the cavern. He really wasn’t sure where he was going; he was exhausted and needed a place to rest his weary bones. He felt more afraid and alone than he had been in many years, maybe even as far back as his childhood years with his brother Wayne and his relentless physical and verbal attacks.
Kevin’s curiosity eventually got the better of him, as he began to wonder where this cavern led. The kid inside him told him to explore, while the adult told him to get the heck out of there. Since the latter wasn’t an option with the lid now covering the only exit that he knew of, he chose the former.
About 100 meters further down the cavern, Kevin thought he heard movement. He quickly shut off the lighter for another cool down, and waited to see if anyone was coming his way. When the silence began to overwhelm him, fear forced him to yell out. “Who’s out there? Are you the one who locked me in down here? What do you want from me? I warn you, I’ve got a gun!”
His questions and threats yielded nothing, just echoes bouncing off the cavern walls. With the lighter back in action, Kevin took a few seconds to take in his new surroundings. This section of the cavern stood about six feet high, with the same cold dirt walls closing in all around him. Kevin had always been a little afraid of tight spaces, ever since his older brother Wayne refused to let him out of his parents’ old refrigerator.