Free The Visible Filth by Nathan Ballingrud

you serious? I can’t go back there tonight.”
    “At least call them and make sure they didn’t loot the place.”
    “Yeah. Okay.” He retrieved his cracked phone from the floor; when he saw there were no new texts or images waiting for him, he felt a giddy relief, and almost laughed. He dialed back the bar. Doug answered; apparently somebody had the good sense to get him in early.
    “Will, what the fuck?”
    “It was an emergency. I’m sorry. I had no choice. How’s the bar?”
    “Everything’s mostly fine. Are you okay, man?”
    “Yeah. I’m good. I’ll be back tomorrow night, if I still have a job.”
    “Relax. We got you covered.”
    He felt such a tide of gratitude that he had to fight back tears. “Thanks, man.”
    “Just do what you need to do.”
    Will started to hang up when Doug started talking again.
    “Say that again?”
    “I said Eric called down, asking for you. Told him you went home early. I didn’t know you guys were buddies.”
    “We’re not. What did he want?”
    “He wouldn’t tell me. I gave him your number though. It’s probably a booty call. I don’t judge, brother.”
    Will barked a laugh. It sounded bad. “Yeah,” he said. “Okay.”
     
     
    S OMETIME IN THE dark morning, while Carrie slept, Will crept into her workroom and activated her computer. The image of the tunnel flickered onto the screen, frozen. After a moment, the computer re-connected to the internet, and the image started moving again – drifting through the black tunnel. He glanced up at the URL line; it was blank.
    The sound of wind still drifted gently from the speakers. Will was struck with the notion that the screen did not show a descent into the depths, but the perspective of something rising from them. Something dragging itself into the light.
    Will reclined in the chair. An unpleasant energy coursed through him, filling him with an urge to action, but what that action might be he didn’t know. He went to the freezer and took the bottle of vodka, taking a few good slugs to calm himself.
    It worked, at least partly. He was able to sit down again.
    He took the yellow phone from his pocket and placed it on the desk. Then he took out his own phone and dialed Alicia’s number.
    After a long moment, she answered. “Hello?”
    “Hey,” he said. “It’s me.”
    “Hey, Will. You shouldn’t call here.”
    He leaned closer to the screen, trying to pull an image from the shadows.
    “I know. I’m sorry to bother you. I’m just wondering if you’re okay.”
    “I am. Thanks. How are you?”
    “Good, I think. So… you told him, I guess.”
    “Yes. I didn’t mean to. Or maybe I did. I don’t know.”
    He thought he could detect something – some scuttling presence – but it could have been just the pixels playing tricks on him.
    “It’s okay. Is he there with you?”
    “Yes. In the other room.”
    “Is that a good idea?”
    “There’s nothing to worry about. Everything is fine. Look… I can’t talk to you right now. I have to go, okay?”
    “Will I see you tomorrow night?”
    “I don’t know. I have to go. Good night, Will. Don’t call back.”
    He thought he heard another sound riding underneath the hollow wind coming from the speakers. He felt something ripple across his nerves, like a cool breath.
    “Yeah. Okay. Good night.”
    She had already hung up. He put his ear next to the speaker. He strained to hear.
     
     
    T HE NEXT MORNING , Will broke things off with Carrie. He waited until she was fully awake, and they were sharing their usual coffee at the kitchen table. He was abrupt and passionless.
    “I think we should break up,” he said. “This isn’t working.”
    She did not immediately respond. His instinct was to keep talking, to fill the long silence with all the usual platitudes and excuses, but he stayed quiet.
    He told himself he was doing this to protect her. Whatever foulness had wormed into his life was threatening her, and he wanted her well clear of it. He even