your marriage. You went to school for almost a decade, became a respectable architect, and threw it all away. For what? For beer? Some booze? You let a floozy get between you and your family? I know you're better than this. I never saw this one coming," Mark lectured.

  "It's bullshit Mark! I'm not blowing in that thing! I don't like this abusive treatment. I'm going to turn you in for this! Say goodbye to your job buddy," I said as I wiped the tears off my cheeks.

  "The truth hurts doesn't it, Victor Birdsong? You are a raging alcoholic, and I'm not going to let you kill someone. I care too much about you. Regardless of what you've done to my sister. I'm trying to help you," Mark said.

  "Bullshit Mark! You're doing this because my dad isn't in Canada?"

  "Yes it's over on Highway 6 at the Cole line. A black BMW on the North side," Mark said into the little radio clipped onto the top of his shirt.

  "Or is it because I don't know Katie's middle name? She doesn't even talk to me anymore! How the hell would I know her middle name now?"

  "Listen Victor, what happened to your father was a real tragedy. But you have to move on. You have your own life to live, and children to raise. Your car is getting impounded, but I'm giving you this one chance to get your life together. So far you've been lucky enough to skate through without any tickets, accidents or DWI's. I don't know how, but this is it! If I ever see you driving while intoxicated, or even so much as walking while intoxicated after tonight, I'm taking you in. You hear me?" Mark yelled.

  "Loud and clear. Keep my car! Take it! Just like your sister did. She took all my shit. Took my house, my kids, all my stuff." I turned and walked along the side of the road towards Metta Ave. "Yeah, take the car. Why not right? It's not like I have a job to get to anymore!" I shouted. "No more kids to visit! Take it all Mark."

  "Victor, I'm going to drop you off at your apartment. Victor! The tow truck will be here in a minute. I can't leave your car like this. Here comes the tow truck now. Victor wait," Mark said.

  "Nah, don't worry about me mister officer. I'll be just fine. Just fine indeed! Got me a full bottle of rum at home, and I'll be feeling good in no time. Thanks for everything asshole," I said as I cut through a playground to get over to the next street.

  When I got to the next street, I took a path between some houses and wound up behind a donut shop. I rested next to the yellow dumpster for a while, and took a little nap before continuing home. I wanted to make sure Mark wasn't still trying to drive me home. I'm no dummy. I know once they get you in the cop car, they never let you out.

  That bastard Mark, he tried to lock me up! He tried to arrest me and take me to jail, but I escaped. I outsmarted his ass.

  I brushed myself off and stretched before trekking up the alleyway between the donut shop and hair salon. I was less than a mile from my apartment. The dumpster area was lit by a big light pole, but the alley was dark. Hopefully, there wasn't anyone lurking in the shadows. They'd be sorry if they tried to mug me.

  I made it all the way to my front door without encountering a soul. It was two in the morning on a Tuesday night, and the good people of the world were all sleeping.

  "Boy have I missed you," I said to my almost full bottle of rum.

  After a few long swigs, the bottle was half gone, and I was wallowing hard in my sorrows. I loved my car! If Mark needed a car, he could just buy his own! He had a job! If he asked to borrow it, I might have let him drive it, but he didn't have to go about it this way! It was the only thing I had left. I'd lost my family. Lost my job. Threw away my education. Lost my house. Ruined my credit. I couldn't see a future.

  "No future for Victor," I mumbled as I gulped the rest of the rum down my hatch.

  If I were lucky, I'd pass out and never wake up. I'd ruined this life. Maybe I'd get a new one. Almost a gallon of rum might do it, I thought as my eyes rolled back in my head. My stomach churned the poisonous release and attempted to expel it, but my exhausted body surrendered into a dark sleep. Ah yes, rest and escape from pain for a while.

  I woke up by the yellow dumpster again. My head was spinning. It was hot. Very hot. Steamy hot. The air was so humid, I could barely stand.

  "Holy shit," I stood up.

  This isn't the same yellow dumpster, I thought. It was the back of a big metal shield. The ground was made of compacted sand. It felt like a dream. I had a hard time composing my thoughts. Was this the impound lot where my car was?

  "Where the hell am I?" I asked myself out loud as I watched an emaciated dog run by with his ribs showing.

  I stepped back into the shadow so it couldn't see me, because I feared if it was hungry enough, it might try to eat me. I watched as it scurried like a hyena with it's spiny back hunched up in the middle. It disappeared into some fallen structural ruins.

  There were piles of rubble and debris everywhere. It looked like ancient Roman ruins and fallen brick walls in the sand. I could hear the hiss of whispers in the distance. They sounded angry. Wounded. Angry and wounded. Could I be in some sort of a war zone?

  When I emerged from behind the metal and walked up over the mound of sand, I was struck by the hellish sight. Armies of skeletal figures were leading groups of sick looking people towards a pit. They thoughtlessly followed and succumbed to the skeleton's lead.

  "What the fuck?" I rubbed my forehead and watched in disbelief.

  I'm a little over six foot tall, and the skeleton army appeared to be around seven foot or so tall. There were thousands of them, and they were silent but purposeful. They marched through the land in groups and solo to take down the unresistant human shells.

  "What's wrong with those people?" I mumbled to myself as I watched a skeleton dressed as a religious Cardinal leading people into a hole of dark water where they would sink to the bottom.

  "It's like a possession. They can't help it. None of us can," an old woman's voice spoke through the back side of a rotted tree.

  "Excuse me? Um, hello? Do you have no order here? Laws? What is the name of this place?"

  "You never know until it's too late," she laughed at me. "Poor bastards," she pointed. "You just can't feel the grip at first, and by the time you do, it's too late."

  "Um, okay. I have to get going now. This place is a mess. And that dog," I paused. "That dog is starving! And that guy," I pointed. "He's letting them neuse him. Oh shit!" I watched in horror as a group of skeleton's hung a man.

  A thunderous bell began to ring and shudder through my bones. I clasped my hands over my ears to shield them, but the vibrations stung my teeth. The skeletons pulled a rope and rung the mammoth bell over and over.

  "For whom the bell tolls," the old woman laughed again. "They get you. They always do. It's not like anyone here was exactly living anyway. Bunch of fools. Even me."

  "Where are we? This is insane."

  "You don't know?" She asked as she hobbled out. "You got here through the bottle."

  "The bottle?"

  "Your alcohol," she said slowly. "Everyone here too. You're not alone."

  "What? My bottle of rum? This is in my rum?"

  "Yes! You want escape from life through the bottle? Here you go! Ha ha ha ha ha…… ha ha ha," she laughed uncontrollably until she was doubled over.

  "You're just twisted. I don’t have to take this anymore," I marched away.

  That old woman was messed up. I had to find a main road or something, and get the hell out. I felt the pounding of hooves. Thumping and running behind me. "Neeehee", a horse whined as it breezed by me and into a crowd of people. It was the skinniest horse I'd ever seen. It's ribs were showing and it's eyes were sunken in.

  Thud, thud, thud, I heard and I knew it sounded horrific before I turned around. It was a group of seven-foot tall skeletons! "Shit," I ran. I quickly realized that my running skills were suppressed by the heavy atmosphere of the hellish land. I knew I couldn't go far, so I stood behind a
woman momentarily before I realized she was part of a group being herded into a large net by the skeletons.

  I pushed my way through the falling crowd toward a clearing. Men, women, children, and animals were being tormented and killed by the skeletons. I was surrounded by horror and death. This couldn't be legal.

  "Ah," a man groaned as his legs were run over by some skeletons on a horse drawn cart. The cart was full of shiny white skulls. Thousands of them! "My leg," the dying man writhed on the ground in a pile of broken skulls that fell from the cart as it thumped over him.

  "Just as well," the old woman hobbled over to me again.

  "They don't speak?" I pointed up towards the skeletons.

  "Not a word. But they'll find you. These here are the skeletons that live in your rum," she waved her hand across the landscape. "You came here to play with them all on your own. Everyone here did."

  "Surely those children didn't! Nor did the dogs or the horse."

  "No," she shook her head. "So sad, victims of the bottle."

  "What about you?"

  "Got here through the bottle too. I couldn't even feel the skeleton's grip until it was too late. Ruined my life. I lost it all, but still couldn't see. Took my life as well as another's."

  "How do we get out?"

  "It's a desolate, hellish, and lonely place, but we still keep coming back," she sighed. "Quick, move over behind this barrel!"

  "Thank you," I looked around as my burning eyes scanned the land of horror.
Cricket Nelson's Novels