Chapter 16

AFTER

2019

Master was getting weaker. Master wasn’t even strong enough to travel around no more.

No more, no more, no more.

Master wasn’t the same ever since he had failed to take that Hughes kid, ever since he had failed to feed.

Feed, feed, feed.

Master was doing everything wrong.

So Azban had been sent, sent, to collect a few children to devour. Azban had crawled out of the Wishing Well, left his weakened master behind, and set off for their next meal.

The Mist had chosen children because they had parents who would mourn longer than any other people on the earth and he loved the taste of tiny hands that had been dipped in jam. He also needed their sorrow, he really needed their sorrow.

Azban was jealous.

He hadn’t eaten a child in years, in fact, the last body he had occupied had gotten weak and when he jumped into another body- he had attempted to eat the first child he had seen. A baby. But her mother had those strong legs and she ran faster than he could. He had settled for a teenager with a strong heart, one that smelt like fear, and even though it was fulfilling, it wasn’t the same.

They didn’t taste like kids.

Azban devoured their thoughts along with their flesh, he took in their worries for a split second but it was enough to drive you crazy.

It's why teenagers are killed so much and kids are just taken. Nobody wants to take a yapping girl or her intoxicated boyfriend, no, they want the smiling kids who occasionally cry for their mothers but can be distracted by the sight of a lollipop.

And that’s exactly what he was doing.

But with ice cream.

Oh, ice cream.

His favorite thing about humans, other than their yummy organs- of course.

Azban had possessed an easy ice cream boy. 17. Skinny and scrawny, only to make it so much easier when he found his next victims, with orange skin and brown eyes. His black hair kept flip flopping around his face and he had started to like it, it reminded him of the good old days- when he was that blond girl and he had found 3 victims for The Mist.

1997.

Such good times.

He was in a pink ice-cream jumpsuit but had tossed his ice cream hat away, accidentally- though. He wanted to trot, skip, down the school road he was on but he didn’t want to look too suspicious, or too happy; nobody trusted a smiling ice cream boy in such a country.

It was apparently strange.

He was supposed to look miserable and sad, two things he never was when he was around kids.

Azban stood outside the metal fence of a preschool and turned to watch the kids as they ran. His eyes scanned the selection of food and his tongue darted out of his mouth and hungrily ran its tip over his bottom lip.

My, my, my.

Who should he have?

The little dark skinned boy with the action figure? He looked meaty, so meaty, and he loved the meaty ones.

No. No!

This wasn’t for him, it was for the master. Only the master.

But he couldn’t think about The Mist’s needs when he was standing outside a park full of options for his breakfast, lunch and desert. Azban felt his eyes begin to glaze, felt himself lose control, as he took in the tiny fingers, the scabby knees and the dirt covered faces with narrowed eyes.

His breath hitched when he sensed the blood.

A kid to his left, skinny but still juicy, was crying. He wailed and wailed, a little pale skinned boy, and he was running towards a teacher. His hand was bleeding.

That was the other thing he loved about children, they bled so easily.

“Sir!”

Azban jerked. He turned towards the fat teacher who was calling him and dumbly blinked at her.

“Don’t worry,” she said, smiling, “these are your customers, I understand.”

Azban loved something else about the humans- they were so dumb.

He nodded and the woman smiled, her crooked white teeth shone under the light from the sun.

“Bring your ice cream in, kid,” she waved him inside and Azban couldn’t believe his luck. The pudgy white teacher walked towards the fence and pulled out a key from the pocket of her knit blazer.

“You sure?” he had been practicing on how to be politer. “I can just wait until they’re outside.”

Either way, they would be taken.

The woman shook her head and continued to smile.

“Us teachers would like some sugar in us too,” she opened the side of the fence Azban assumed was meant for workers.

He picked up his mini fridge of assorted ice cream cones and then casually walked towards the fence- no trot, no skip- and she stood aside to let him walk in.

He only smiled once he was inside the fence; pudgy lady had no idea what she had just let in but she would find out soon.

Very soon, very soon, very soon.

∆∆∆

PRESENT

2020

8 DAYS LEFT

He was being cradled like a baby but he didn’t mind. The safety and warmth from his father were sometimes the only thing that felt real to him. He was smarter than most kids, quicker and braver- Dad always told him this- but he didn’t quite understand his life yet. He didn’t understand anything.

There was danger somewhere, almost everywhere sometimes, but the kind his father had kept him hidden for wasn’t the kind the police men could tackle.

He had seen it.

Harvey Jenarius Hughes had seen The Mist.

He sometimes dreamt of him, that black fog that looked like the cigarette smoke that some of the men in the motels would smoke, he hadn’t understood why his life was in danger until that moment. Last year. When things changed.

Dad had gotten stricter, he never even allowed Harvey to play outside anymore or go to the circus or go to the toilet alone.

Which was why he was so afraid of doing those things without his Dad, only because he had no idea what would happen if he did.

Harvey had used the toilet while his father stood by but faced the opposite direction. He had a gun tucked into the belt of his jeans and Harvey knew that that was Dad’s favorite gun, other than the shot gun.

“Dad?” he said.

“Yes, buddy.”

“Where are we going?”

It was a good question, he knew that when his father hesitated to answer. He was almost proud of himself, Jenarius Hughes always seemed to have the answers to every question.

“We’re going to a new city,” Jenarius said, “to help us fight the fog…help us fight the fog that killed mummy.”

When Harvey was done, he washed his hands with his father right behind him and then he reached up and waited to be carried- back towards the car.

“But we aren’t meant to go East. East is bad,” Harvey said, carefully choosing his words and hoping his father would understand just how confused he was, “you told me.”

Jenarius picked up his son from the ground and held him. Green eyes met with green eyes, one pair fearful and the other pair sad.

“It’s not safe anywhere, bud,” was all he said. “East, West, down and below; we just have to fight it.”

The new woman was nice, Harvey thought she had a pretty smile. She cursed a lot, just like Dad, but sometimes it sounded funnier on her. On Dad, it was harsh and frightening- but he never cursed Harvey. Jenarius always cursed everyone and everything else, especially The Mist man.

Harvey clung to the shoulders of his father and bounced with every step his dad took towards the car.

The pretty lady, Angel, was leaning against the car with a gun in her hand. It didn’t help ease his mind that The Mist had found them. He knew it was only coming for him, not the woman and not his Dad, he had heard their conversations.

Harvey realized he was scared, more than scared, and it wasn’t the first time he had been since last year. He was going to die. Nobody else but him.

He was placed onto the white heap of pillows and blankets from the motel in the backseat of the car and when his father moved away, Harvey reached out to him and caught his hand.

“What’s wrong, buddy?”

Harvey tugged at his father’s wrist.

“Sit with me.”

Jenarius smiled, “Later. We have to go to Illinois, and then I’ll hold you forever.”

Harvey didn’t like what he was hearing. He didn’t like the way his father’s eyes got distracted, the way they darted back and forth between where they were and the road ahead, he didn’t like how afraid everybody looked.

He was confused and he hated being confused.

When Harvey started to cry, Jenarius didn’t know what to do. It had never really happened before. Not like this, anyway. Harvey never cried when it was important, when time was being wasted. He was always such a good boy. Always so brave, something he had gotten from his mother and not Jen.

Jenarius leaned his head down into the car and tried to focus on his son. He didn’t know whether to circle the grounds or to try and pay attention to the boy.

“Buddy, what’s wrong?” he asked.

Harvey pressed his knees together and continued to cry. His face turned a deep, cherry red as he wailed helplessly.

Jenarius had raised him alone for 3 years yet in such situations, he had always instinctively looked to a woman for help. Angel glared at him. She wasn’t the type of lady for such, he knew it when he realized she hadn’t even jumped to help.

“Buddy, who’s going to drive?” Jenarius asked a crying Harvey.

Harvey wailed, “I don’t care.”

Jenarius envied him.

“Listen,” Angel snapped, as though Jenarius was the one who was crying for somebody to hold him, “I can drive the rest of the way.”

Jenarius glared.

“No way.”

Angel snorted, unamused.

“Have you forgotten that this is my car?”

“Stolen car,” Jenarius corrected. “And when you drove the first hour, you almost killed us.”

Angel narrowed her eyes at Jenarius and Harvey continued to cry.

“I was distracted by the events that had just taken place,” she said dead pan, “you know? The kid who had his brains blown out yet managed to speak.”

As if they had the time to do this.

Jenarius tossed her the keys and clambered into the back seat. Angel shut the doors, smiling in triumph, and moved around to climb into the driver’s seat.

“If you do anything reckless,” Jen warned, “The Mist will be the least of your problems.”

Angel stifled her laugh, “Aye-aye, captain.”

She revved up the engine as Harvey’s whimpers died down. She started to reverse with a smile on her face and her eyes hovered over the reflection of Jenarius and Harvey in the back seat in the rearview mirror.

Angel’s smile faltered.

Jen had accomplished what she couldn’t dare do, he had made a new life and he had moved on- even if he was still being hunted down- he had a flicker of hope left in his heart because of that little boy.

She wished it had been that easy, she wished she had tried, but she wasn’t made for that safe life and days gone without looking over her shoulder. She had been tossed into the depth of darkness she had learnt to dance in and a part of her knew that that would be her life for as long as the Universe allowed her to live.

But Harvey would have a chance, Harvey would get to live and learn and love the same way all the ordinary people in the world did.

She would fight harder than ever for his chance.

She would die for it.

That’s what she thought of as they sped away from the station.