The Innsmouth Syndrome by Philip Hemplow Read Free Book Online Page B

arrangements.  Said maybe I should do my mom in as well.  So we said goodbye and Wayne went and stole the car – and they left me alone.”
     
    Tears leaked down his pockmarked face and he let out an anguished, throaty sigh.  Carla could feel a lump in her own throat.  “Thing is” the boy continued, “I’m not as brave as them.  But I know soon I won’t care enough to do it.  In a few years I’ll be like the rest of them, sick in the head.  So, why put it off?  It’ll only get worse and worse until it doesn’t matter anymore.”
     
    “We can help you!” interrupted Carla.  “Whatever’s wrong we can get you help, people who understand, maybe treatment.  You’ve obviously had a terrible time, losing your friends like that, but it’s not your fault.  You aren’t to blame.  Why don’t you stay here and let us get you the help you need?”
     
    He laughed at that.  “You gonna fix me right up, yeah?  You’re not from `round here, are you doc?  You wanna be careful.”
     
    “ I want to be careful?  Why?”
     
    “Just watch out for the Order is all.  Just ... don’t get involved.”  He waved a hand, dismissively.  “Leave me alone.”
     
    Carla persisted.  “You keep mentioning `the Order’.  Is that the Order – what is it called ... the Evangelical Order of David?”
     
    Gary gave a derisive little snort.  “Yeah, if you like.”
     
    “I’ve seen their building, down near where I met you.  You said your mother’s a member, right?”
     
    Gary sat forward and grabbed hold of her sleeve.  There was no derision in his voice when he spoke now.  “Stay away from them.  Just keep away, lady!”  His small, black eyes stared into hers.  “Leave Innsmouth alone.  If they think you’re causing trouble, you’ll –“
     
    The door of the room burst open so hard that its handle clattered against the thin partition wall.  Behind it stood a hulking, middle-aged woman, dripping with rain water, her eyes slitted in fury.  Carla rose apprehensively from the bed.
     
    “Mom!” exclaimed Gary, in a strangled voice. 
     
    The woman stared around the room, taking in the surroundings, pausing briefly to evaluate Carla and finally coming to rest on the wretched figure in the bed.  Her lip curled and she strode aggressively towards him.  “Up!”
     
    “Wait, Mrs Taub ...”  Carla laid a hand on the advancing woman’s arm.  The woman came to an instant halt and her head snapped round, the belligerent stare now fixed on Carla’s face.  Carla hurriedly removed her hand with a placatory, surrendering gesture.  “I’m sorry.  Your son has suffered a very serious injury, I don’t think –“
     
    The woman ignored her, turned back to her son.  “Up!”  Gary sat up hurriedly and reached into the bedside cupboard for his shoes.
     
    Carla tried again, moving around, trying to renew eye contact with the woman.  “Look, I really don’t think it’s a very good idea for Gary to leave right now.  There’s still a risk of infection developing and he’s lost a lot of blood, at least let us keep him in overnight and maybe see how he’s doing tomorrow?”
     
    She was close enough to smell the foetor rising from Mrs Taub’s chunky-knit, black jumper.  The wool, impregnated with sweat and cigarette smoke and gobbets of food, had probably smelled better when it was still on the sheep.  Gingerly and reluctantly, Carla risked putting her hand on the hostile woman’s arm once more.
     
    Mrs Taub whirled around, her greasy black hair flailing behind her, and for a second Carla thought she was going to be attacked, but they were interrupted by a lilting, gurgling voice from the direction of the door.  “One.  Two.  Three.  Four.  Five!”     Carla turned to look, keeping half an eye on the wrathful Mrs Taub. 
     
    A man in a torn yellow raincoat, presumably Gary Taub’s father, was lurching into the room.  He was completely bald, with a large, round