Level Zero: A Nightmare in Riverton Novel by Dan McDowell

Author:Dan McDowell [McDowell, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Published: 2021-05-12T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

TODD ADAMS awoke in a dark tunnel as a rat ran across the top of his chest.

How long have I been out? Where am I?

He studied the ceiling above, observing its long trail of dim lights and a few bats hanging in the vicinity. Feeling post-concussive side effects, he noted a series of small, multicolored halos around each as it glowed. They billowed gray smoke, burning no brighter than ten or fifteen watts.

The lights are useless. The tunnel’s twenty-five, maybe thirty feet high, fifty feet wide. What good are they?

A radio kicked on in the background down the long corridor. The Creepy Nights commercial jingle came through the speakers at an overpowering volume and then transitioned back to the scheduled program.

“Thank you for listening to WGBO 530 AM. The only Riverton station for deplorable people like the dud-heads! I’m Wayne Wallace, and you all know my pointless, breath-stealing accomplice, Ramblin’ Ron Richards. Today, we’re going to talk… scary. It’s October 29th, 1982…”

1982? No. It’s 1983. What’s going on here?

“Halloween is just around the corner, and I want to give my half-brained buddy, Ramblin’ Ron, a chance to tell us a good yarn…”

The radio turned off, and the lights in the tunnel dimmed. Hobbling footsteps neared as they traipsed through puddles.

Where am I? Who’s there?

“Hello?”

It hurts to move. Who the hell is flicking my ear?

Feelings and memories of his childhood flashed in front of him, first being bullied, and later, memories of himself being the bully. He never was the bully, so to speak.

These phantom memories aren’t mine. Whose are they?

He turned around. A strange-looking figure lurked — his familiar face and eyes glowed a distinct amber. The character shined an overpowering flashlight beam into Todd’s eyes.

“You know why I have you here… don’t you, Todd?”

“No, not really. Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I don’t think so. I’m here to creep on you.”

“To what?”

“Creep on you, dummy. Don’t you get it? This is my funhouse. Not yours. Heh-heh. Let’s set you straight before you end up like all the rest of ‘em around here. What do you say?”

His face… What’s wrong with it? Is he even human anymore?

“Set me straight? I don’t follow.”

“You know. Cure you. Cure you of all of your impure thoughts about the ‘lessers’ around town. Pride cometh before a fall. Did you honestly think that giving them a few of your… hard-earned dollars was going to fix the problem? Why’d they end up on the streets to begin with? It’s a broken system out there.”

“Yeah, okay, sure. Don’t get preachy on me. I get the picture now. Please get on with it and set me straight.”

He heard the tug of a weedeater cord, and the unwelcome odor of aged gas hit his nostrils. After sputtering for a couple of seconds, the unit turned over. The silhouetted figure pulled the plastic trigger on the Red Helix weedeater.

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