Rainmaker

It was a troubled sleep, gray and muted behind the constant tatter of rain at the window. She turned listlessly, her sleeping mind rolling with wisps of dreams that seemed to materialize, but quickly dissipated like weak smoke.

Rain, rain and more rain. A seemingly unending gift delivered in time of drought. Three days straight the downpour had continued. Thunder rolled and kinetic flickers of brilliance illuminated the windows behind the curtains.

Awake now; the sleep had recharged her and she couldn’t force herself to sleep anymore. She turned and looked at her husband. He snored softly, blissful and oblivious. He’d worked hard the last few years, although exactly what he did was still a mystery to her. She knew that he worked for the government as an electrical engineer at the test range several miles away.

For months, she had watched the activity at the plant in the distance. At night, brilliant arcs of energy leaped into the sky, illuminating the landscape like daylight as they worked to end the disastrous drought that had plagued the world for decades. By day, high altitude crosshatches of chemical trails filled the sky.

There were children who had never seen rain in their lives. She remembered when a thunderstorm was a common occurrence, sometimes even an inconvenience. All of that had faded to dust over the years, a mystery of the new global climate realities.

Finally, three days ago, the heavens had opened and now there was no end in sight. Flash floods were rampant as dry ground became saturated. But with the rain came new hope and celebration, and for her husband Jim, a well-deserved break.

She parted the curtains in the bedroom window and looked out at the house across the street. The Johnsons had gone to bed hours ago; their house was dark. She saw by the streetlight out front that the garbage cans had tipped over and spilled their contents into the street. Wind gusted and lightning flashed from one direction then another, casting back and forth shadows across their cars in the driveway.

The rain pelting the window seemed different somehow; the way it streamed down the glass. She frowned as she tried to think of what exactly the difference was from her memories. The water seemed to be silvery and thin. She traced the drops with her finger on the inside of the glass. She thought she could see tiny illuminated highlights in the drops. Or maybe it was just the light from the streetlight reflecting. It had been so long since she’d seen rain that it was no wonder she was scrutinizing it.

She turned back to the bed. Despite there being no lights on in the room, she could see fine between the dim illumination from the streetlight and the strobe-like flashes of lightning. She lay down and nudged Jim to stop his snoring.

She was just drifting back to sleep when the first bolt hit. The room simultaneously lit up and shook violently as an explosion ripped the air seemingly right outside of their window. Jim, suddenly panicked and awake, rolled out of bed onto the floor. 

“What the hell was-” he said, but the question wasn’t even out and the next bolt hit. In a surreal instant, Carolyn felt the air in the room move past her and she felt the concussion rattle her body. She saw every detail of the room in vivid detail.

Jim and Carolyn were paralyzed with fear. Both of them had their hands on the bed to steady themselves. Neither one of them wanted to say anything. The next explosion was not as close, but still unnerving. Another crash shook the ground, then another. A rapid-fire series of explosions came from all directions. They both wondered if war had broken out and they were unaware. They seemed to be in the middle of a battle zone.

The fusillade was relentless. Dozens and then hundreds of explosions rocked the house like the grand finale of a fireworks show. Some were in the distance; some seemed to come from right next door. Jim was amazed that the windows hadn’t imploded.

The final bolt seemed to be right on top of them. Both of them were knocked to the floor as the house rocked. Jim could picture a huge hole in the roof and traumatic structural damage. Costs of repairs were far from his mind.

The room was quiet and pitch black. Both of them sat stunned for a moment. Jim felt for the drawers in his nightstand and retrieved a small flashlight. The beam cut through the dark and both of them looked around, expecting gaping holes in the walls and broken glass. Surprisingly the walls and windows were intact. As was the ceiling.

“Jim.” Carolyn said nervously. He felt his stomach tighten. “It’s stopped raining. Hear? It’s quiet.” There was no light from outside coming through the curtains. The electricity was undoubtedly out. The storm had abruptly stopped. There was only silence.

She stood slowly, still shaking, and walked to the window. She parted the curtains and looked out.

“Jim,” she said, and again his stomach tightened as he heard alarm in her voice. “Bring the flashlight over here, please.”

He walked over and stood beside her looking out. There was nothing, only blackness.

“I know the electricity is out and the streetlight is out, but I should still be able to see something. Shine the light out there. See if the cars are damaged.”

He put the flashlight to the window and panned it around. The light fell on nothing.

“What the-” Outside the window was only a deep blackness. There was nothing. It seemed as if the light was absorbed into the dark. Jim saw that there were not even dust or water particles to reflect light back.

Neither of them spoke. Then, with the same impulse, they went to the bedroom door and out into the hallway. Jim kept the small light ahead of them as they made their way down the stairs and into the living room. Before they went to the front door, Jim retrieved two larger flashlights from the hall closet. He gave one to Carolyn. Together they went to the door.

Jim turned the knob and opened the door slowly. Both of them peered out onto the porch. They saw that beyond the edge of the porch there was nothing. To say that there was only dark space would imply that there was at least something. However, this was a nothing so all-encompassing that their hearts sank as their minds tried to take it in.

Jim slowly put one foot out onto the porch and Carolyn grabbed his arm.

“No, Jim. It’s not safe.”

He didn’t go any further, but he looked up at where the sky should be. He felt a terrible sickening realization. His heart was pounding and there was a metallic bite in his mouth. He realized that whatever this was, it was not something they could just wait out until help arrived. There was no help coming.

The empty blackness was absolute. Jim knew, he didn’t know how, but he knew, that the darkness was infinite in all directions. They were no longer in a Nevada suburb; in fact, he didn’t think they were even on Earth anymore.

He cautiously stepped toward the edge of the porch. Carolyn whispered, “Jim. Careful,” as if he needed to be told. Past the edge of the porch was a drop-off into the darkness. He shone his light around, trying to see anything, but there was nothing. There was no way to judge any distance.

He walked back into the living room and took a small pillow off the couch. He walked back to the edge of the porch and flipped it into the darkness. It sailed straight out away from him and almost instantly disappeared. Jim shone the light after it and saw it tumbling out away from him, getting smaller and smaller. It kept going until it was just a dim pinpoint and then it vanished.

Both of them retreated into the house and sat on the couch. In hushed voices, they asked questions, not necessarily directed at each other. Jim rambled as the thoughts tumbled in his head. Most of his thoughts began with the words “what the hell”. Questions without answers. Carolyn appeared to be shell-shocked.

“Are we in space?” Carolyn asked. Jim could see that she was drained.

“I don’t think so. We’re breathing and there’s gravity. Everything seems fairly normal inside the house.” He didn’t tell her his feelings about the infinite darkness and he definitely didn’t want to breach the subject of Hell, although he knew she would eventually latch on to that idea. The utter stillness was unnerving. The quiet was unfamiliar. There was always an air conditioner running, or noise from the street, an airplane passing overhead. This quiet was the quiet of forever.

Then Carolyn asked the question that filled Jim with dread.

“Do you think this was caused by the project you’re working on?”

“I-I don’t think so, I mean . . .,” Jim stammered. He thought for a moment. “You know I was on the electrical crew. We assembled the equipment that charged the upper atmosphere. I don’t know what they were doing on the other end, up there in the sky with the chemicals and the powdered metals. There were rumors about things, but . . .”

He changed the subject. “I know what we need,” he said as he stood up.

“We need more light in here. I’ll turn the generator on.” He went to the hallway and opened the door to the basement. Then he froze. The basement was gone. Everything below the fourth stair down was gone, sheared off. There was only the featureless black. He shut the door and stood stunned for a moment. Then he opened the closet from which he had obtained the larger flashlights. There, the neatly stored camping equipment took up most of the space. It had sat unused for the last few years. He found a battery powered lantern and tried the switch. The batteries were still good, but probably wouldn’t last long. Before he shut the door, he glanced up at the gray hard-shelled case on the top shelf. It contained two pistols. Target shooting was another recreation that work had forced into the background. He took the case from the shelf, returned to the living room, and told Carolyn about the basement.

“Let’s gather all the candles we can. There’s a couple more flashlights in the bedroom, and I think there’s one in the kitchen.”

He opened the gray case and took out a .40 caliber semi-automatic pistol. Although he had no evidence of any direct danger, he felt better armed. Together they walked back up the stairs to the bedroom. Jim found two more flashlights in a closet and then he went to his dresser and picked up his watch. It was a well-built sports watch suited for his rugged work. According to the watch, it should be 8:16 AM. In a normal world, the sun would be up and he would be having breakfast.

Carolyn went to the window that should have looked out at their front yard. Nothing had changed. The darkness was still all consuming. They went back downstairs, almost shuffling as if in a dream.

“Let’s check the kitchen,” Jim said. “See how the food situation looks. We should only use one small flashlight as sparingly as possible, try to make them last as long as we can.” 

They walked down the hallway, past the basement door, to the kitchen. Jim paused at the entrance and shone his light in, sweeping the room. Nothing seemed out of place and they cautiously stepped in. Jim opened cabinets, drawers, and the refrigerator, taking note of what supplies they had. Carolyn already knew exactly what was on hand. She stepped over to the kitchen door, which normally would have looked out at their small back yard, but now showed only darkness. There were three steps below the door. They went down into the nowhere.

The sharp tinkling sound of breaking glass startled them. It came from the living room. Jim walked back to the living room, gun held in front of him, pointed at the floor. Carolyn followed cautiously behind.

They entered the living room and found small pieces of broken glass beneath a side window. A single pane had broken and fallen inward. Jim shrugged. After what they had witnessed, it was a miracle the house was still intact. One windowpane was insignificant. Jim sat on the couch and stretched his legs out in front of him. The events were beginning to wear on him.

They sat for a while in silence. Fatigue was settling in both of them. After a short while, Jim lay on the couch and snoozed as Carolyn sat by the window looking out at the black void. He dreamed in disjointed fragments.

“Jim.” He opened his eyes at Carolyn’s voice. “Jim, come over here and look. It’s a light.”

He looked at his watch. It was after 8 PM. He shook off the sleep and went to the window where she was sitting. He looked out and saw only blackness.

“Where? I don’t see it.”

“It was there,” she said. She was pointing out to where the horizon would be if they were in a normal world. “It’s gone now. It’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

“I’ve been watching it. It goes away every few minutes, and then it comes back. It’s tiny, like a star.”

He kept staring in the direction Carolyn had pointed. After several minutes a tiny pinpoint of light appeared. It was startlingly clear against the dark background. There was no way to judge how far away or how big it was.

“It’s a little brighter,” Carolyn said. “I think it’s getting closer.”

“Maybe your eyes are just getting more adjusted to the dark.” Jim said.

Jim went back to the hallway closet and dug through the camping gear until he found a pair of binoculars. He returned to the window and used them to look out. The light was gone. He went to the front door and opened it. He stood in the doorway watching. After a few minutes, the light returned and Jim saw that it was indeed a little brighter. He watched for a few minutes and the light disappeared again.

“I can’t make out anything through the binoculars,” he said. “But it does look like it’s moving closer.”

As they watched, the light reappeared and disappeared several more times. Jim estimated that it was about five minutes between sightings. He furrowed his brow as he stared through the binoculars.

“It’s closer now. I can tell that it’s something solid. It looks like there’s a larger dark object that’s rotating and the light is attached to it, maybe, it’s hard to tell.”

The slow pulsing light transfixed them both. It was like a tiny connection with the normal world, the world of light. As the object grew nearer, Jim started to make out what it was.

“Oh my god,” he said. It’s . . . you’re not going to believe this.” He handed her the binoculars. “It’s a house. It’s another house. Like ours.”

As it grew nearer, Carolyn could see that it was indeed another house, floating in the darkness. It was similar to theirs, a modern split-level. The house was rotating slowly as it drifted through the void toward them. The light she saw was coming from the front of the house, probably the living room. Now she could see other smaller lights around the outer perimeter of the house, probably landscaping lights she surmised.

“That’s a lot of light coming from that house,” Jim said. “They must have a working generator.”

“It’s going to hit us, Jim”. Carolyn said. Her voice sounded worried.

Jim wondered if the other house was the one that was moving. With nothing around to judge distance, it was frustratingly difficult to tell. For all he knew, his own house could be the one that was heading toward the other. Such slow movement might not cause any sensation of movement. He settled the matter in his mind by reasoning that it was probably a little of both.

“Get ready to move to the other side of the house if it looks like it’s going to collide,” Jim said.

The slowly rotating house was almost close enough to see details without the binoculars. The house was similar enough to theirs that it could be from the same subdivision. Jim watched as the front of the house rotated toward them. The source of the light was a large picture window that had undoubtedly faced out on their front yard. Jim wondered what the people in the house were thinking. Were they as lost as he was?

As the front of the house rotated into view, Jim took the binoculars and tried to see inside the house.

“It looks like their house lights are on. They have electricity all right. Their generator probably isn’t in their basement.

He watched as the front of the house moved out of view and he scanned the side of the house looking in windows for any sign of life. The upstairs and downstairs windows on the side were dark, but small landscaping lights around the base of the foundation showed that the structure was intact. He watched as the back of the house came around into view. He saw that the back door was opened inward. As he looked closer, he could see that it was damaged as if something had smashed it in. The panes of glass had been shattered.

“I can see into their kitchen,” he said. “Looks like they have candles burning. There’s . . . there’s something moving. It might be a person. It’s turning out of view. I should be able to see it better next time around.”

Now the details of the house were clearly visible with the naked eye. If it continued on its path, it would be at their front porch in a short while. Jim wondered how big of a threat it was. The slow movements made a collision seem dangerous, but maybe not critical. Maybe the house would just bump up against theirs. There was likely to be noise and broken glass, but maybe they would make it through unscathed.

Jim scanned the other side of the house as it swung into view. This side had a garage and above that was the second floor. He saw a garden hose that had snaked out into the darkness and several shrubs that clung to the base of the house. On this side, there were no landscaping lights so he couldn’t make out any details. In fact, the house had almost turned invisible in the darkness.

Jim turned on one of the larger flashlights and shone it at the house. The distance was still too far for it to reach, but if someone were watching, they would see it. He thought about flashing the light as a signal when the front of the house came back into view. In a few minutes, it would be close enough that he could yell to the occupants.

As he watched the side of the house, he saw a movement. Against the dark side of the house was a slightly darker smudge. He thought he saw it move up the wall and onto the roof.

“There’s someone there,” he said. “I can’t see them now. I think someone is on the roof.”

The front of the house was turning into view and Jim knew that he would be able to see right into their living room. The lights were blazing so he should have no problem seeing if there were any occupants.

As the house turned closer, Jim could see that a collision was imminent. In a few minutes, the house would be looming right at their front door.

The front of the house rotated into view and Jim stared through the binoculars into the living room. The sight he saw made his stomach heave. He saw a couch in the living room, much like theirs. On the couch were two corpses. They appeared to have been skinned. He could clearly see the faces of the bodies. The skin was gone and the eye sockets were dark and empty.

“Oh, no!” He gasped. He stumbled backwards and dropped the binoculars. Before the house turned much further, Carolyn was able to pick up the binoculars and look at the bodies. She froze and began to tremble quietly.

The other house turned its side to them. Jim shone his light around, trying to see anything that would indicate someone alive in the house. Again, he saw movement on the roof, but couldn’t make out any details. When the back of the house came into view, he saw the back door smashed in and off its hinges.

Through the door, he could see there were candles burning inside the kitchen. He saw movement again, a blurry figure that moved quickly across the room. The house rotated and now he could see details vividly. The garage came into view and he saw dark objects attached to the side of the house.

He shone his light at the house and revealed the dark shapes. They looked like people dressed entirely in black. They had two arms and two legs and appeared to be splayed out clinging to the siding. He couldn’t see their faces, only shadows.

Jim raised his pistol. The figures remained attached to the side of the house. As the house turned, the side went out of view and the front of the house now appeared close enough that he could hit it with a stone. He saw that the house was slightly off course for a collision. It would be close, but he thought they would miss each other.

Jim could see into the living room clearly. He saw the couch with the two corpses, in horrifying detail. He glimpsed indistinct movements in the upstairs windows. The house moved past like a behemoth, surreal in its silence. The corner of the other house swung by the corner of their house and missed by an arm’s length. Jim shone his light up at the roof. There was nothing but darkness.

The back of the other house was swinging into view again. Now Jim was close enough to see every detail. He saw the smashed in back door again. He looked into the other kitchen, faintly lit with candles. There was a dark figure standing inside. It looked like a man dressed in black, featureless. He shone his light on the figure and his heart froze.

It wasn’t a man. He saw a black skinned creature. It stood like a man, but that was where the resemblance ended. Jim saw thin sinewy arms and legs that bent at the elbows and knees in the opposite direction of humans. The hands had long tapering fingers, which ended in hooked black talons. The face of the creature was stretched pale skin and had no eyes. The mouth was a red vertical slash that quivered, revealing rows of thin white fangs.

Carolyn screamed. The creature moved to the doorway and crouched as if ready to jump over to their house. Jim raised his gun and fired. The bullet knocked the thing backwards into the shadows inside the kitchen. The back of the house was turning out of view and the house was moving away. Jim saw a flash of motion overhead and tracked it with his flashlight. Something leaped from the other house and he heard a muffled thump as it landed on his roof.

Jim looked out at the darkness. He could see more pinpoints of light out where the horizon should be. There were dozens, maybe hundreds.

Jim locked the door, although he doubted it gave them much more safety. He retrieved a .38 Special from the gun box and handed it to Carolyn. She was comfortable with it from their time at the shooting range. He looked at his watch. It was almost 4 AM. He looked at Carolyn and spoke in a low voice.

“It’s been twenty four hours since this began,” he said. “And neither one of us has eaten or drank anything. Did you while I was asleep?”

“No,” she said softly.

“I have a feeling that we’ll never get hungry,” he said. “I don’t think time exists here, at least not outside this house.” He told her about the feelings he’d had about the darkness being infinite in every direction, a dark universe.

The sound of shattering glass from the kitchen jolted them.

“Up the stairs to the bedroom,” he said. They both moved quickly. Jim shut the door and moved a dresser in front of it. He piled a chair and an end table on top of it. They could hear noises from downstairs, furniture being toppled. Carolyn backed away from the door and Jim stood firm, ready to shoot anything that tried to enter.

There was a crashing of glass from behind him and Jim turned to see a black shape come through the window. He raised his gun, but it was behind Carolyn. It grabbed her shoulders and she screamed and fired a shot into the ceiling. Jim leapt across the room, but it quickly retreated back out the window, dragging Carolyn with it. He watched as her feet disappeared up toward the roof.

He looked out the window, not minding the broken glass under his hands. He shone the light up just in time to see her legs being pulled up onto the roof. He stuck his flashlight in his pants pocket and tucked his gun into the back of his waistband.

Jim threw a blanket across the broken glass and eased out of the window. There was a rain gutter next to the window and he only needed for it to hold tight to the wall for a second while he reached up for the edge of the roof.

He stood shakily on the windowsill and jumped up. It was a short distance and he got a grip on the edge of the roof with one hand. He swung his other hand up and began pulling himself up. It took every bit of his will. His muscles were shaking and he let out a loud grunt.

He had both elbows over the edge of the roof. He pulled himself further and finally crawled onto the roof. He could hear Carolyn moaning somewhere in the darkness. He reached for his flashlight and found that it had slipped from his pocket.

He looked out at where the horizon should be and saw a row of stars. Some of the larger ones were flickering as if they were tiny balls of fire. He knew they were houses like his. Now they were in the dark universe and they were the prey of the dark creatures.

As the tiny pinpoints drifted, he could see a dark shape on the roof blocking the lights. He could just make out the dark figure. He raised his gun and fired. As the recoil knocked him back and off the edge of the roof, he saw by the muzzle flash that he had hit the thing. In an instant flash, he saw its head explode as it stood over Carolyn’s mangled body. The gun spun out of his hand into the darkness.

He was moving backwards into the darkness, helpless. He saw the shadow of his house receding against the backdrop of stars on the horizon. Soon the lights would be gone and he knew that he would drift alone forever in the timeless dark universe. Eventually, he thought, he would go mad forever.

© 2014 Shock Armstrong

@theaterofscifi