The Yellow Pine

Chapter 32 - The Stars Align

After stripping off her snow-crusted outer clothes and warming up, Flora sat down on the Carter's couch to watch television and wait for either Roland or Maisie to return. She felt awful leaving him to search for his little girl alone, but after her long walk to his house, she would have been more of a hindrance than a help, and he was genuinely grateful to know that someone would be here if she came back on her own. She laughed ruefully to herself and thought So much for not being alone anymore. She'd simply traded her own house for a neighbor's. At least this house felt warm and full of love. She jumped as she heard a sudden knocking at the door. Hoping that it would be Maisie, she leapt up and answered it.

It was not Maisie. At first, she wasn't sure what it was, and had a brief moment of panic, thinking the walking dead had come to visit. She blinked in disbelief and leaned closer, squinting. "Sandra? Is that you?" The poor woman's grey skin sunk in over sharp cheek bones, her lips pulled away from loose teeth in white, dry gums. She swayed on weak legs, barely able to stand as she croaked in a phlegmy voice, "You have to drive. Too weak. Gotta get... to the theatre." She held out the keys to her SUV with a shaking, skeletal hand and gave an unctuous smile. Flora stood there mutely, in complete shock. A rank stench gusted through the door - body odor and disease. Gently, Flora reached outside and tried to guide the sick woman in out of the cold. "Sandra, you're obviously ill. Come in, and warm up. Where are Peter and the boys?" With surprising strength, Sandra stood her ground, refusing to be pulled across the threshold. She grasped Flora's outstretched arm, and yanked until the younger woman stumbled out onto the porch. "We are going to the theatre," she growled menacingly, enunciating each word sharply. Before she could reply, Flora was grabbed up by two pairs of sinewy, oily arms and dragged down the steps to the waiting SUV. She caught a glimpse of Peter's still form, sprawled out on the Lowell's front porch like a discarded rag doll. His eyes were glazed over, and snow was already starting to cover his body in a fine sheet. She let out a small cry as the twins and their mother shoved her roughly into the backseat of the SUV and held her there while Sandra pulled out and headed down the road.

Maisie couldn't remember why she had left the house without telling her Daddy, but now she was wishing she hadn't. It was getting dark, except for the too-bright stars in the sky, and it was really, really cold now. Evie wouldn't slow down, and practically dragged her along, ignoring her requests to stop and rest. "It's almost time, we have to empty the Vessel for His Arrival," was all that she'd say as she pulled on the little girl's arm and led her toward the other end of town.

As they passed the empty buildings that had been intended as an outlet mall, Maisie frowned. The grey concrete and brick facades looked wrong, somehow, but also familiar. The angles twisted off in impossible directions, and the black stone spires jutting from the tops certainly hadn't been there before. With a gasp, she realized where she'd seen that architecture. It was Carcosa, or at least a part of it. On the left side, the arcade stood dark and quiet, it's happy, bright sign shattered and hanging askew. As they neared the garage, Maisie made a desperate attempt to pull away from Evie. "I don't want to go! I want to go home!", she cried out, pulling against the older woman's firm grasp. Evie didn't respond, but tightened her grip and sped up her pace. They were nearly there, and right on time.

Roland stumbled through the icy snow, falling again and again. He felt as though he were running through Jello, and couldn't seem to get his legs to cooperporate with each other or with the rest of his aching body. The buildings around him loomed overhead in bizarre shapes that didn't belong in this town, or even in this world. He vaguely wondered if he had fallen asleep and was dreaming all of this up and willed himself to wake, but nothing happened. Grunting with the effort, he forced himself to take another step. He had to reach Maisie before... before something happened.

The interior of the theatre was nothing like Flora had remembered it. In less than a month, thick, creeping vines had somehow taken over and crawled along every surface. They were a deep, oily green, and emitted a malodorous yellow fog that made Flora's head spin. The remainder of the Lowell family pushed her along in front of them, forcing her through the lobby and into the auditorium. Jenaia stood regally in the center of the stage like a queen receiving her court. "Dad!", Flora screamed out, but her father did not acknowledge her. He knelt next to his wife, staring up at her in admiration and awe. Debra Jo stood off to one side, her hands clasped in front of her sagging bosom, with tears rolling freely down her cheeks. The only one who looked almost as confused as she felt was Corona, standing near the front row of seats, clutching an ugly leather-bound book in her arms. Behind the Grand Guignol, the back of the stage opened onto a phantasmagoric landscape. Great, twisting towers jutted out from the edge of a sinister lake, all wreathed in yellow fog. Monstrous, bat-winged creatures circled above, scrawing in rusty voices, and a strange, piping music filtered through the air. She could just make out the forms of hundreds of people in robes and masks, lining the streets in a stygian parade.

Jenaia fixed her stepdaughter with an icy stare. "At last, the prodigal child returns. You shall now witness the Glory of His Arrival." She turned her back on them with an elegant flair and raised her hands towards the impossible vista. "Ia Ia! Hastur nog'yar!" The other members of the cursed cabal raised up the chant, repeating the guttural phrase again and again. The denizens within turned to face them in turn, and raised up a cry of their own. "Throd hui! S'uhnathg hai!" Flora watched in disbelief and horror as the walls of the theatre dissolved into that other world, first slowly, then faster and faster as Carcosa devoured her family's business like a spreading virus.

Backing away, she instinctively grabbed Corona's arm and pulled her along with her. The other woman looked at her slowly, as though in a trance, mumbling and sobbing under her breath. "This is too much, I thought it would be different. I don't understand..." The doors banged open to the right of them, and Selena burst into the room and ran to her wife. Grabbing her by the shoulders, she knocked the manuscript from her hands. It landed on the floor with a thump, the circular confusion of overlapping stars and lines etched in gold on the cover glinting in the sallow light. Blinking, Corona seemed to see the room for the first time. She clasped her hand across her mouth in shock. "Oh, Leena! I'm so sorry! I thought... I was trying to...", she broke off with a sob and hugged her wife fiercely. Flora pushed the two women away from the spreading portal. "Later, ladies. We need to get out of here, now." Corona turned back suddenly, snatching the book up off the ground. "Wait, maybe there's something in here that can stop this." Selena didn't like the idea of her wife handling the cursed tome, so she gently lifted it from her hands and tucked it under her arm. "Fine, I'll carry it. But she's right. We have to go." The three women ran from the theatre and into the parking lot. "Here, we'll take Sandra's car. I don't think she'll mind." Flora climbed into the driver's seat and was grateful to find the keys still in the ignition. As they buckled up, Selena asked the next obvious question. "Okay, now what?" Flora and Corona thought for a moment, and Flora said with some authority, "We'll go to the garage. I saw Lester out plowing earlier. He can clear the main road and we can get the hell out of this town." Selena dropped The Necronomicon onto the floorboards as they pulled out and crunched through the snow.