The Conduit Chapter 7: Freedom of the darkness

Cover art for The Conduit, a new horror story featured in the Ink & Shadows Blog.

Pointe au Baril, 2023

Dean watched her creep toward that shitty little townhouse. He drowsed. Alarms in his head blared he was sending his baby off to the gallows. 

How can you just sit there while she goes in? He tried to lift his head. He listened. The whispering started quietly. They sounded like a man’s voice until he really tried to focus on them. The tone would shift and evade him comprehension until he stopped trying to hear it, then it would clear. 

The girl will be fine. The flea she visits will perish. She will return. Unlike the one from who she was born. You have both been abandoned, cast off. I am your intuition. The child’s mother is insolent, and needs to be corrected. 

Dean’s thoughts became a cascade of torture. He imagined Laura as he last saw her: dark hair thinning from childbirth, the last of the baby weight clinging to her, making her all the more depressed whe nshe looked in the mirror. Despite how much he told her she was losing weight and she was beautiful the fact never quite stuck, she heard, but she did’t listen. 

She never listened. Never cared enough to. And the nafter you poured your energy, heart, and mind into her. Rearranged your entire life for achild you never planned on having, she insults you by abandoning you. You, the one who needed the most support, the one who lost sleep on nights when you had to rise early to try and make employment work. I

Dean was resentful. He wasn’t even through his three month probation at the restaurant. They just canned him without cause . He knew it was because of Laura. Lori had colic, and that night Laura had simply refused to keep getting up with her. Dean rocked and bounced and shushed his daughter from the depths of two in the morning. He missed his alarm that morning. They had to call another dishwasher for the lunch rush.

Instead of shrugging it off, or imagining it differently, Dean allowed himself to explore the small place in his mind that held ill-will toward his wife. 

When He allowed himself through that door, he was amazed how easily it swung open. 

She left because she was unfut, abd she knew one day you wold come calling. Today is that day. Do not talk yourself out of it again. 

The reservation; as soon as they drove through it Dean’s mind began working.  Shawagasi. He knew the name. Laura talked about it incessantly. How much family she had, how they should move closer so the village could help raise the child. 

As they drive through it Dean was happy he hadn’t faltered from his position to stay in North Bay. The place looked like it was stuck in the year 2000. 

The girl’s mother must answer for her absence. Lori would respect you when you told her that her mother had been made t answer for her negligence. Itwould be the connecting tissue that held you and your daughter together again. Think of it: No more awkward diners, no more screaming matches. Just a calm , present family unit again. But you must go now. You cannot afford to wait any longer. 

Dean reached forward and twisted the keys hanging from the steering column. The engine roared to life. He wrapped his fingers around the gear shifter. The orange needle on the dashboard slide from P to D and the car lurched forward. He rolled forward a few inches before slamming on the breaks. What was he doing? Was he seriously just going to leave his kid here? 

Dean shook his head and cranked his window down. The cold air brought him back to himself. He fished the picture of PJ out of his pocket, forced himself to look at it. His stomach flipped. Dean felt like he could hear his heartbeat pounding through the Tercel’s tiny cabin.

He couldn’t bring himself to burn the photo. He didn’t want to bring more bad luck down. When the time came, he’d found an old family photograph. He’d held it up back facing Lori saying it was PJ’s picture. As he watched the photo burn in the black pit of the barbecue, Dean thought he would feel remorse at losing one of the only photos of Laura he had left. Instead he felt the warm satisfaction of spite cut through any remorse before it could take root.  

He was shaken from his reverie by the muffled sound of a scream. He snatched his fingers away as if the photograph he held was burning. His eyes snapped to the doorway his daughter just disappeared through. He wondered if the photograph had somehow conjured it. He stared at the house as doubt churned his thoughts into questions. Had he heard that right, or was it just a trick of the photo?

The door burst open then and Lori flew from the house. Beneath his simmering rage and desperation Dean felt alarm bells going off. She was terrified. The passenger side door flew open and Lori’s shoes hit the floor mat, exploding in two different directions, before she slid inside. The car rocked with the force of it before she began screaming at him to drive. Dean slammed the gear selector into drive and chirped out 

Screaming at me like I’m one of her idiot friends instead of the man who raised her. Ungrateful; just like her mother. 

The drive home was the same. His thoughts filled with vitriol that slowly started to sink in. He wasn’t sure how his daughter had become such an entitled bitch Hell she was barely into womanhood and she was already acting unhinged. She was becoming more like her mother every day. 

Her mother who continues to skate through life with no responsibility. I can’t stand to be around that, not again. 

He rolled to a stop in front of the trailer, rolling his head from side to side.Lori got out of the car. Dean heard her claiming she needed a shower. Selfish. Thinking only of herself. Did she not appreciate that he’d just given up most of his day to ferry her around? The certainty that Laura was on that reservation was like a tuning fork. It rang in his ears with a clarity that Dean couldn’t ignore. He could go find her, demand she come back and raise her abandoned daughter. Give him a break to be the man he wanted to be, rather than the rent-a-parent he felt like half the time. Fuck this. He was doing something for himself for a change. 

He clicked his seatbelt back into the buckle, and spit gravel as he slammed his foot into the gas pedal. He didn’t care if he sprayed mud on the trailer of that Bakeri bitch and her disrespectful little hellions. Let her clean his shit of fher property for a change. Staring through the rearview mirror he watched his daughter chase the car. Heard her muffled shout of protest, and smiled. In the back seat the bag holding the camera seemed to draw in at teh sides before relaxing ack into shape, as if a great breath had just shuddered through it.

It was sunset. Streaks of orange shot through the clouds. Rainbows cascaded in massive arcs across the flatlands he drove through. Dean took the cheap gas as a sign he was on the right path for once. Tercel watching the cars come and go from the reservation and for the first time in what felt like forever his heart was light. The gas pump clunked as his tank filled. He loved that sound. Nothing made him feel like a man quite like a full tank and the open road. He decided quitting his vape was a dumshit idea, So he picked up some cannabis oil on the way out of the gas station. Before he left he fished his vape out from the glove box where he’d thrown it in a half assed attempt to keep it ‘out of sight out of mind.’ 

He tried to remember the address of any of Laura’s relatives but his memory was foggy. He took another drag, trying to tap into that extra gear of perception weed gave him. Dean found he could focus on little else but just driving and freeing himself from the headache his life had become. The thought triggered another dip into the well of rage he harboured, but he steered away from those thoughts. He didn’t want to trip out on them. 

On a desolate stretch of highway the first few stars were beginning to creep across the sky. Dean pushed the Tercel faster than he had in years. Despite The cold air he cranked the windows down and the radio up. He put his foot to the floor. His stomach shifted and he felt the body high starting to take hold. A cheshire grin cracked across his face and a giggle fit took over. He closed his eyes. The air against his face was so freeing. He felt it blow through the car and wash away every bad vibe Lori ever brought in.

 When Dean opened his eyes, red and blue lights were cascading across his rearview mirrors. 

Oh fuck

His brows shot up as his stomach sunk. He slammed forward in his seat, grabbing the rearview to centre the black and white SUV. No matter how many times he blinked and rubbed his eyes the cruiser was still behind him, and gaining ground. The siren blared. Dean signaled his turn onto the dirt shoulder. His vape sat beside him on the passenger seat. Dean slipped it into the reusable bag and snatched open his glove box. His hands shook as he fumbled with the foil of a juicy fruit package, cramming as many in his mouth as he could. They crunched into jagged splinters before softening slightly. He began salivating and tried his best to lick away the dried, white spit from the corners of his mouth. His thoughts turned to the camera as he grabbed his insurance and righted himself in the seat. 

There’s only one way out of this. You can’t afford to get another DUI. you’ll be stuck here. Is that what you want? To abandon your little girl the way her mother did? 

Dean caught movement in the mirror and saw a woman exiting the police vehicle. Her reserve police patch stark white against the black bomber jacket. 

You won’t be able to talk your way out of this. She’s going to arrest you. You’ll get put in jail, shipped back to North Bay to do time with the rest of the dealers and goofs in the city. You’re in the middle of nowhere. No one will miss her. 

She was getting closer. Dean had to have at least a foot in height on the woman. She muttered briefly into the radio attached to her shoulder. Thoughts of wrapping that cord around her neck filled his head. He could do it, there was nothing to her. No. no that would be letting her off the hook. He blinked and she was his ex wife. Dean froze. How did he not see it before? Of course it was her. She even had the mole under her left eye. His hands tightened on the wheel as if it were her throat. 

He made a decision. 

The dirt crunched beneath her boots as she approached. 

“Good evening sir, can I see your license and reg-” 

The camera made a small popping noise as Dean snapped her photo. Their eyes met and he saw a vacancy in hers. She didn’t recognize him. How could she not? For a moment he faltered. Was it her?

Of course it’s her Dean. The voice was crystal clear as he tried to focus on the woman's features. They seemed to dodge and reshape as he tried to focus on them. A sharp pain in his forehead caused him to wince and pitch forward. At that instant his thoughts became a torrent of red flashes and rage. He felt a compulsion tremor through him as he gripped the wheel, moreso to stop from falling over than anything. She was so close he could hear her blood coursing through her veins. Desire consumed him. Dean felt as if a doorway was opening. Beyond it a great white light blazed before he could focus on a galaxy of stars and worlds void of all recognition. He was engulfed in its majesty. He willed himself to stop, but the pull was exhilarating. In a small pocket of his rational mind, Dean Sellers recognized he was giving in to whatever force was within the camera. He willed himself to fight, but that puny effort was snuffed out by the greater consciousness of his master. Dean slipped through the doorway, and in doing so passed an entity entering it, entering him.    

“Sir, I do not consent to my photo being taken. Put the camera on the dashboard and step out of the vehicle. Dean set the camera on the passenger seat. He didn’t know how long it would take, but he needed to buy himself time. He placed his palms flat on the dash, staring straight ahead. 

“I’m not getting out of the car.” 

She began reaching for the radio.

Do not let her radio for backup. Keep this small. 

“Alright, ok.” Dean unbuckled his seatbelt, dropping his registration. He leaned forward. 

“Stop.” the officer’s voice was like cold steel in the night. “Get out of the car.” 

Dean snaked his fingers into the door handle and pushed it open. The world spun as Laura bunched his sweater in her fist and spun him to face the car. She demanded he place his hands on the roof while she patted him down. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and wrenched his arm back, snapping metal cuffs first on one, then the other wrist. 

“My name is Constable Sutherland with the Anishinabek Police. I am detaining you due to excessive speed and suspicion of marijuana in the vehicle. You are not under arrest at this time. I am placing you in handcuffs due to erratic behaviour and suspicion of intoxication.” 

“You haven’t begun to see erratic behaviour.” Dean spit the words at her as he flexed his meaty wrists against the binds that restrained him. He hated being restricted. He strained against the cuffs for a few moments. The chain flexed and strained with him. 

“At this time I’m going to take that as a threat.” Constable Sutherland said as she walked him through a roadside sobriety test. “I’m placing you under arrest for uttering threats, impaired driving, and speeding.” 

The reserve cop hauled Dean off the Tercel while she read the Miranda warning. He didn’t hear a word. He was focused on the sound of her heartbeat slamming against her ribs. Ribs he would snap with his own hands to slake his master's thirst. 

She’s afraid. 

Constable Sutherland placed Dean in the back of her SUV and started rifling through his car. She snapped a pair of rubber gloves over her hands, placing items on the hood of the cruiser. First the camera, then his vape, then the contents of his glove box. He couldn’t take his eyes off the camera. He continued working his wrists against the cuffs. Metal bit into flesh but the pain wasa dull ache. He felt a drop of blood slide from his wrist to his fingertips.  His chest burned. 

Constable Sutherland placed the items in bags and then deposited them in the trunk. She climbed behind the wheel. The engine roared to life and she pulled out onto the road.  She looked in the mirror. Her dark eyes took him in as she cracked her window. 

“Your vehicle is being impounded, a tow truck will take it to the closet wrecking yard. If you need directions they will be given at the station.” Dean settled in the seat, his chest continuing to burn with an itch he couldn’t scratch. He didn’t speak. Outside the window yellowing grass rolled by. A few single story homes snapped by his vision but were winked out just as quick. The scenery became desolate fields and cliffs of pale orange rock. He watched her eyes bounce from the road to the rearview mirror. 

She’s trying to break you, get you to turn on yourself, don’t let that happen.

“You’re a long way from home. Any reason why you picked now to feed your habit? Twelve years without an impaired charge and suddenly today’s the day? Doesn’t add up to me.” 

Dean didn’t bite. 

She’s mocking you. Taunting you with her new power. She knows who you are, she’s just choosing not to acknowledge it. 

A few more beats passed in silence before she spoke again 

“You know, I find a lot of the times impaired driving comes down to people feeling trapped. They want to run from something and they figure escaping through substance is the only way to do it. You’ve already got one DUI on record, this isn’t going to be good for you Dean. If you tell me what’s going on, maybe I can help. I can’t turn back the clock, but maybe I can get you some support you need.” 

Again her eyes flipped from the road to the mirror, trying to figure him out. 

She’s trying to get under your skin, trying to do what they all do. She’s going to use whatever you say against you, she told you that as she trapped you in this vehicle, like a stray dog. Stay silent. 

Dean felt a vice like pressure squeezing his temples. Visions of wrestling her gun from her belt clouded his mind. It would be so quick, he could make a grab for it. He was sure the cuffs were about to break. 

Her blood will be exquisite 

“There’s a lot of great detox programs in North Bay. can make a recommendation. Think of your family, Dean. I don’t think they’d want to see anything happen to you out here. Do your people know where you are? When we get to the station I can-” 

“Don’t you dare pretend like you don’t know her.” Dean said. “She’s got as much of that holier-than-thou attitude that you do. You gave it to her.” 

There was a small metallic clink as Dean finally broke free from the handcuffs. He lurched for the officer’s pistol. In the same moment he saw a slash of red and grey flood his vision. Dean had just enough time to read the word MACK across the grill before the log truck collided with the police cruiser. The police vehicle sailed through the air like a child’s balloon coming untethered.

The airbags exploded out of the side pillar. Dean inhaled the chalky smell from the discharge before he flew sideways and slammed against the rear door. He was thrown violently back to his seat as the car tumbled into a neighbouring field, churning the dirt as it flipped. Glass exploded inward and shards rained down embedding into this cheek and forehead. When it stopped the constable was a lump in the front seat. 

Dean heard the click of her seatbelt buckle as she depressed the release button. It retracted into the pillar a few inches before lolling against it and tapping lightly on the driver’s side window. The police officer slumped across the centre console. Her chest heaved in an effort to breathe. She searched him out with one bloodshot eye. She coughed. It had an ugly bark to it. 

Dean righted himself as best as he could and clawed his way toward her. His thoughts were a torrent of pain and rage. 

She brought a hand up to fight him off but he swatted it away. It crumpled to the console feebly.Dean’s palm Slapped against the meat of her neck as he brought one hand, then the other, to rest on the meaty flesh. 

She searched for something in her final moment. Her good eye wide, locked onto his. Dean could feel her pleading before it rolled up slightly, the light slowly fading away. He squeezed.  Decades of pain and sorrow sliding from his memory, down his arms, and into his hands. 

Dean waited for the peace that was promised. In his thoughts he was sure he would feel relief at finding and punishing Laura. He only felt a growing void of apathy. One that needed to be filled with fresh blood.  

The girl. It must be the girl. 

 Dean wrenched Constable Sutherland’s pistol from her belt. He climbed over her body to reach the door handle, and escape to the freedom of the darkness.

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