FATE'S PAST Read online

  Worst of all was the gun in his grips, for it harkened memories of a worse time, one filled with fear and few promises of a bright future. But like that evening, the gun was a mere tool to an end—in the small chance that he was not losing his mind, he would protect Carrie, no matter the cost.

  A snarl echoed from Cameron’s left; he turned and instinctively pulled the trigger.

  * * *

  The word shook Carrie’s essence. “Why?”

  “Who said that?” Carrie cried. “Stop being a pansy and come out here!”

  Carrie looked around, but she remained alone. She ran over to a door next to the refrigerators and tried to open it. Locked. She sprinted over to the cashier’s station, hopped over the counter, and approached the “Employees Only” door. She pulled. Also locked.

  She pounded the door and screamed, “Come out, you coward! Say that shit to my face!” But no one opened the door. No one came out to meet Carrie’s screams.

  “Why?”

  The voice came from Carrie’s right; she jumped over the counter, but her foot caught the counter and she could barely brace herself before she crashed against the store’s floor. Dazed for a moment, she pushed herself to her knees and looked towards the source of the voice. No one there.

  “Why?”

  “Shut the hell up!” Carrie pleaded as she covered her ears.

  “Why?” The voice was behind Carrie. She flipped over and stumbled to her back while flailing her arms in front of her face. Her fists struck nothing but air, and she lay alone on the gas station floor.

  What the fuck is going on with me? Pain from her fall ached in her forehead; she placed her hands to her head but felt no blood.

  She pushed herself up to a sitting position and rested her head in her hands. Her mind raced, searching for any semblance of logic in the uncertainty that surrounded her; but despite her frantic attempts to find clarity, there was nothing but randomness all around. And for a person like Carrie, it was her worst nightmare—she clung to certainty and thrived in the peace of rationality. But wherever they were, reason had no place.

  She steadied herself and stood. Looking around the gas station, it seemed emptier and quieter than before. She practiced her breathing, felt the ache in her head dissipate, and searched for peace amongst the quiet chaos.

  A gunshot startled her.

  * * *

  Cameron pulled the trigger, but the gun did not fire. He did not know whether it did not fire because it lacked ammunition or because it backfired, but regardless, he was happy that it failed because there was no target—the only thing between the gun and the gas station was a green rocking chair.

  What the hell, Cameron thought as he walked towards it. He had somehow failed to notice the chair sitting next to the gas station door. Even odder was that the chair was rocking to-and-fro, despite the lack of gust; the slow rocking seeped into his subconscious, and he remembered a chair from his youth that would move similarly.

  “Cameron!”

  He turned towards the gas station, and through the windows saw Carrie rushing to the door. He ran to a nearby trashcan and tossed the revolver inside. It had been a scary enough night and, considering Carrie hated guns, he figured there was no need to frighten her further.

  She tumbled out the gas station door and balanced herself to avoid falling. “What the hell was that?” she cried.

  “What was what?”

  “That loud noise,” she said. “I heard a loud pop, like a gunshot. You okay?”

  “Um, yeah, I’m fine,” he said as he gazed towards the trashcan. “But I didn’t hear any noise. You sure you heard something?”

  “Of course I’m sure. It was really loud. There’s no way you could have not heard it.”

  “Yeah, sorry babe. Only thing I heard was this chair rocking.”

  “What chair?”

  He gestured in the direction of the chair, but it was gone. “What the hell…?” he sighed. “I swear I saw a chair a second ago.”

  “You sure you’re okay, Yin?”

  “I think so,” Cameron said, “but I have no clue anymore.”

  “Right there with ya.”

  Cameron looked down at her hands. “Didn’t get the water?”

  “Nope, they were out,” she said with a slight tremble. “You fill up?”

  “Nah, pump’s busted. We have plenty of gas though.” He looked around as he muttered, “Let’s get the hell out of here. This place is creeping me out.”

  “Works for me,” Carrie said, pushing him playfully out of the way as she walked past him to the car.

  Carrie could not feign calm for much longer. She was losing interest in trying to figure out the absurdities of the eve—wherever they were, whatever was going on with Cameron, and whatever was wrong with her head, she no longer cared. She only desired to return home, in all senses of the word.

  As she sat in the car, she chastised herself for lying to Cameron. There was no need. But she clung to any logical foundation, even a foundation grounded in falsity.

  Cameron got into the car without word, turned the key, and reversed onto the road without looking behind him. He slammed the car into gear and hit the gas.

  As Cameron drove in silence, his concentration waned and he scanned the parallel road. He reviewed the road for a while, hoping to see a passing car as a sign that there was an escape. But no car appeared—the road out was as empty as the road in.

  He noticed a flash in his rearview mirror. At first, he figured and hoped it was the flash of headlights. He stared at the mirror, which reflected nothing but the road zooming by.

  The flash came and went again. This time, he saw enough of it to know it looked like the outline of a face.

  What the fuck, Cameron thought as he leaned towards the mirror. The next second, he saw the bloodied face of a young boy.

  Cameron turned away quickly, shook his head, and refocused on the mirror. The boy’s face was gone.

  I think I need more than sleep.

  Carrie watched Cameron fidget in her periphery. After a period of silence, she asked, “Ugh, where the hell are we anyway?”

  He snapped out of his fidgeting and said, “I honestly have no idea. I’ve done this drive before and I cannot remember any stretch of road like this one.”

  “Well, how long have we been driving since you reset the car’s trip gauge?” As Carrie asked this, both looked towards the gauge. The numbers still read, “0000.”

  “Goddammit,” Cameron cried as he punched the side console in frustration. “What the hell is wrong with my car?”

  “Babe,” she said as she placed a hand on his right forearm. “That’s not going to help anything.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.”

  “Can’t we just turn around and head back to Beaumont?” she pleaded.

  “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll turn around. I’m really sorry about the way this trip has started.”

  “That’s okay. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.”

  “Yup. We’ll be fine as long as we have each other.” As Cameron said this, he looked out the side window. “There’s only one small problem with heading back.”

  “Oh no,” she said. “What?”

  “Well, I haven’t seen an interchange in a while. Have you?”

  She glanced out of the driver’s side window—between them and the road heading the opposite way was a concave boundary of low grass. “No, can’t remember the last interchange. At least not since the road divided.”

  “Yeah. I would run it, but I’m worried that the grass may be muddy and my shitty car might get stuck. Let’s keep driving and I’ll take the first interchange I see.”

  “Deal.”

  “Ugh,” Cameron said. “I wish I knew where we were headed.”

  “Why, to an adventure, of course!” she replied.

  “Wait, what did you just say?”

  “Huh?”

  “Just now, what di
d you say?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t know.”

  “You said, ‘We’re headed to an adventure, of course.’”

  Carrie laughed. “Did I? I was staring out the window and didn’t realize.”

  “Yeah, you did! You totally did. I haven’t heard you say that in forever. Over a year, at least.”

  “Wow,” she said. “Has it been that long since I talked to Alex? Crazy.”

  “You know,” Cameron said, “eventually, you’re going to have to talk to him.”

  “Yeah,” she acknowledged.

  “Since you two stopped talking, it’s like you lost a bit of yourself,” Cameron said. “You seem more stressed out, more obsessed with work. It’s not healthy, Carrie.”

  “You’re right,” she admitted. “I’m just…not ready yet.”

  “I understand,” he said as he gently placed his hand in hers. “Trust me, I completely understand. But, you haven’t talked to him in like, what, a year and a half?”

  “About that,” Carrie said after a moment.

  “And has he apologized?” Cameron asked.

  Carrie laughed. “He sends me an ‘I’m sorry’ text like once every other week. For a while I responded, but then I just stopped.”

  “Well, do me one favor,” Cameron said. “Just think about talking to him. Remember what you said when we got back together? That in order for this to work, I needed to be less harsh and more forgiving?”

  “Of course,” Carrie said.

  “Well, it’s time for you to take your own advice.”

  Carrie felt insulted by Cameron’s comment at first, but decided he was right. It was unfair to hold Cameron to standards she could not abide by.

  “Besides,” he continued, “I realize he broke us up. I get that. But in a weird way, that break up may have been the best thing that ever happened to us.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It forced me to get my shit together. Go to counseling, deal with my anger issues. My past. Who knows if I would have done all that if we hadn’t broken up for a while.” He looked at her and said, “I wouldn’t have known what it was like to have lost you. If even for a little bit.”

  Fighting back tears, she said, “I love you, Yin.”

  He kissed her hand and said, “I love you too, Yang.”

  As Cameron continued to drive, the car’s clock still blinked “00:00,” the trip gauge refused to move, and every time Carrie checked her phone, it malfunctioned. She figured there was no point in acknowledging the strangeness, because they had no choice but to continue wandering until they found a means to wander in a different direction.

  “Well, this is the first time I wish I drove a Jeep,” Cameron joked.

  After he said this, Carrie thought she heard the noise from the radio again. “Hey, do you hear that?” she asked.

  “Hear what?”

  “The radio,” she pointed. “The radio is making that noise again.”

  “Carrie, I can’t hear anything.”

  “Are you serious?” She leaned in and whispered, “Shhhh, it’s getting louder.”

  “Carrie,” he whispered, “I swear I can’t hear anything.”

  The quiet lull swelled into a deafening shrill. She threw her head back to get away from the radio, but the terribly loud noise remained, unaffected by her distance.

  Carrie screamed, “Make it stop!” and she slammed her hands against her ears. She clasped her hands so violently that her fingernails left indentations on the sides of her head; her hands did nothing to subdue the sound and it continued to elevate into a scream.

  “Help me!” she yelled as she tossed in her seat.

  “How? What’s wrong?” he panicked.

  “The radio! Turn it off!” she pleaded.

  Cameron fiddled with the radio’s knobs as Carrie flailed and cried out. He sternly punched the radio, but it made no difference. “Pull over, please!” Carrie pleaded.

  Cameron complied and veered off the road. He hit the brakes, and as soon as the car came to a stop, Carrie slammed the door handle, opened the door, and fell out. He ran to her side and watched as she rolled on the ground while her hands covered her ears. She was no longer screaming, but her face scrunched in obvious pain, and her eyes yelled much louder than her voice ever could.

  Cameron took a knee beside her and cradled her in his arms. He put his hands over hers, and asked, “What’s wrong, sweetie? Please tell me! Please!”

  “Make it stop,” she screamed. “Make it stop!”

  “I don’t know how!” he cried.

  “Make it stop.” Her words were softer. Cameron felt her muscles relax and her body slumped in his arms.

  “Carrie!” Cameron screamed. “Carrie! Wake up!”

  “It’s okay,” she sighed. “It stopped.”

  “Oh my God,” he said as he squeezed her tighter. “What the hell happened? You scared the hell outta me!”

  “I really don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. She buried her face in his shoulder and whimpered.

  Cameron did not know where they were, nor did he understand why they were there. But they were together, and in that moment of Carrie’s relief, that’s all that mattered to him.

  Carrie raised her head from his shoulder. “I’m okay now, sweetie. I promise.”

  “Don’t do that to me again,” he pleaded. “I can’t stand seeing you in pain.”

  “I know, sweetie. I have no idea what happened…it was truly awful.”

  “What did you hear? I swear, I didn’t hear anything at all.”

  “It’s weird, but I have no idea,” she said. “It was the loudest sound I’ve ever heard, but I can’t figure out what it was.”

  “I hate this place,” Cameron said as he looked around him, the scenery no different than it was the last time they stopped. “I just want to be home with you.”

  As he said this, Carrie glanced over Cameron’s shoulder and pointed. “Cam, look!”

  He turned and saw what Carrie had seen—faintly, in the distance, there was a soft light.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “No clue, but let’s find out.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure, baby. Anywhere is better than here!”

  Part Two

  The Hotel

  I.

  As they drove, the light grew brighter, and Cameron noticed that it shone dark red. It cut through the night sky like a bloody knife. He did not know what the light was, and driving towards an unknown landmark unnerved him. But, considering Carrie’s recent episode, he needed to find some semblance of civilization in case she relapsed.

  Carrie’s incident shook Cameron’s core. In that helpless moment, Cameron understood the strength of the rope tethering their souls. Carrie had suffered greatly, but Cameron suffered even more so witnessing her agony; her pain lessened when the noise ceased, but his pain persisted. He now understood the power of their love and would stop at nothing to protect her.

  Carrie sat in silence as they drove and retraced the events on the road in her mind. She still could not identify the noise that had twice pierced her eardrums, which frustrated her. She knew it was a haunting sound, a sound that would invade her sleep and her conscious. But it was also an unfamiliar noise, with an unworldly tenor. She knew that she had heard it before, but rarely in her life. And though she could not identify the noise, she could identify the memories it invoked, and they were memories she wished to forget.

  As they approached the light, Carrie clenched Cameron’s hand in anticipation. And soon, the source of the light revealed itself.

  The red “VACANCY” sign illuminated the night and brightened the empty parking lot. Cameron pulled in, found the spot nearest to the building, and parked. They sat in the car for a few moments, staring out at the building.

  All white, the hotel was nondescript aside from the vacancy sign and a red “HOTEL” sign that hung above the overpas
s of the entrance. Each window looked like the others, and all had the blinds closed. Cameron’s car was the only one in the parking lot. Every room was dark. The hotel would have appeared deserted except for the light shining from the lobby area. He could see slightly into the lobby, and it looked empty. The sliding glass door leading into it held a neon sign that gleamed “OPEN.”

  “So, what do you think?” Cameron asked.

  “I mean, I don’t want to drive anymore, for sure. And this place doesn’t seem so bad.” Carrie didn’t believe her own words—the strange way the light refracted off the hotel made her uncomfortable. The environment was too still, the color of the black pavement of the parking lot was a tad askew, and the hotel was too white; flawless white paint stood out against the night.

  Must be a recent paint job, Cameron thought.

  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “We’ve done worse.”

  “Well,” Carrie said as she squeezed his hand, “let’s do this. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  He took a moment to collect himself, opened the door, and exited the vehicle. Carrie followed suit a few seconds later.

  Cameron again noticed a lack of…everything. The parking lot lacked the typical smell of cement, rubber, and carbon dioxide residue. No wind blew. The electricity powering the hotel emitted no sound. Only Carrie and Cameron’s movements destroyed the perfect silence.

  They looked at each other, interlocked hands, and walked towards the entrance to the hotel. Despite Cameron’s brisk walking, he did not feel a shift in the air. And nothing changed as they entered the building—the sliding glass door opened without a sound, and they entered a noiseless lobby area.

  Two light blue couches rested in the lobby, and frames hung on the walls with no art inside. The colors seemed muted and lacked the vibrancy of the normal pallet. To their right was a sign for a bathroom. In front of them was a dim hallway. To their left was a vacant welcome desk with a silver bell.

  They walked over to the desk and Cameron hit the bell. His efforts created no sound, not even the sound of a broken bell. He tried once more, and again silence met him.