Radio Waves of the Macabre [On Hiatus]

Chapter 32 - A Watchful Gaze (Part 2)

    She couldn't bare to look again at the boxes, and so she shifted her attention looking beyond the shelf, just off from the patio. A few feet further on she saw it: a small, ramshackle extension jutting out from the station proper. A corrugated metal roof rested over ancient grey boards, reminiscent of abandoned farm structures that she had seen many times in the woods of Russet Creek. As best as she could tell, it was a late extension to the radio station, a part of the construction that had added the patio, as its corrugated roof stretched not only over the jutting architecture of that gray-boarded addition, but also over the entirety of the patio. A few bland, wooden posts supported the corners not directly joined to the structure.

    Most important of all, at the center of the aged addition loomed a great door barred behind half a dozen boards nailed to the corresponding frame. The image of it reminded Tess of an old black & white zombie movie that she had caught her mom watching, though her mom had never told her the name of it. Her mom had also forbidden her from watching it, turning it off and sending her from the room.

    Tess could still remember those rotting hands grasping at the boards, however, beating and ripping at them as they attempted to force their way in. Only here, the boards seemed intent on keeping something inside, rather than out.

    Without a second thought, Tess dropped to the ground rummaging once more through her backpack until she removed the hammer she had carefully packed before setting out.

    "T... T... Tess?"

    "Just shine the light on that door, okay?"

    Alex nodded, but Tess could see the way his eyes shifted scanning the deepening shadows. The back of the station hid beneath an unnatural dark, and she could not blame Alex for his fear. She felt it, too; but she also knew that she had to find Ricky - that he was her responsibility. As much as she wanted to comfort her friend, to let him know that it was all okay and that they could turn back now, she knew that she couldn't. She had to try to get in. She had to try to find her cousin.

    "It'll be okay," she said, as she inched towards the door.

    It had been built of the same ancient wood as the rest of the addition, but the boards nailed across it stood out, aged, but still newer than the others, a deep faded brown that had yet to grey. Near the top, peaking out from between two boards, Tess noticed a thick pane of bubbled glass, a central window that just might hold a view inside. Unfortunately, she was too short to reach it.

    Carefully she tapped at the edge of one of the boards at random, testing it. It didn't budge, nor did it chip away. Aged or not, the boards had not rotted through and still stood a steadfast barrier.

    "I... is it unl... l... locked?"

    "What?"

    "T... t... try the h... handle. If it's l... locked, the b... b..."

    "boards?"

    Alex nodded. "Don't matter," he finished.

    She stopped. He had a point.

    Her icy fingers felt frozen through, her breath puffing out before her. She didn't want to think about the unnatural cold, and thus shifted the bandana back over her nose and mouth. As long as she couldn't see it, she could pretend it wasn't a problem. She longed for Alex's hand, for some semblance of warmth as further distraction - another effort to bury her head in the sand - and as she reached for the handle part of her hoped that it would hold tight - that it would be locked and that all of this wouldn't matter - that it would just be one more barred entry and that they would have to turn back.

    As her hand grasped the rusted handle, however, she immediately knew that wasn't the case. With the slightest of movements it turned, and she pulled trying to open it. It budged only slightly, locked in placed by the nailed boards.

    "Well, it's not hopeless," she said.

    "G... g... good." Tess watched as Alex looked over his shoulders still checking on the encroaching dark. Obviously he wanted to be anywhere else but there.

    "There's no one there, Alex."

    "I kn... kn... know what I s... saw." He didn't bother looking back at her as he spoke, still staring out behind him. "It's l... l... l... —"

    "—like?"

    "S... s... someone's watching us," he finished with an exasperated rush.

    Tess stared out then, looking with him into the dark, overtly aware of the depth of cold consuming her, bandana or no bandana. Alone or not, they couldn't stay much longer.

    "I'll be quick," she said, then studied the boards before her, uncertain of where to begin, but certain that she could stare out into that dark no longer. Whatever waited there, she knew where Ricky was; he was inside, waiting for them.

    At last, with no particular rhyme or reason, she chose a board placed at roughly her shoulder height and eased the claw of the hammer under it just where the top nail could be seen. She pushed up on the handle, forcing the claw deep into the groove.

    With a great thrust... the board wobbled only slightly. She strained again, but to little avail.

    "Alex," she said, turning toward her friend.

    He eyed her.

    "Set the flashlight down and help me with this."

    He didn't have to speak a word in order to tell her that he didn't want to do as she said. Every waver of his hand became exaggerated with the shake in the beam of the flashlight.

    "Just set it on the table there," Tess said, gesturing towards the patio furniture behind them. "Point it at us. I need another hand here."

    A moment's hesitation more and Alex marched to the table easing the flashlight down. "W... w... we'll be quick, r... right?"

    "Right," she said. "Put your hand here, and on the count of three we push, okay?"

    Alex nodded and placed his hand beside hers on the handle of the hammer. Once more she could feel the heat of his palm and the ice retreated ever so little, and there was hope.

    "One," she counted.

    "Two."

    "Three!"

    They both pushed up with as much strength as they could, and, as it slowly fought its way loose, the wood groaned.