Spencer Hotel

Chapter Sixteen

The night gradually surrenders to the early morning light, a remarkable transformation unfolds on the desolate, trash-ridden street. The street, once cloaked in darkness, now begins to reveal its secrets as the first hints of dawn break through the horizon.

The sky transitions from an inky black to a deep shade of indigo, with faint streaks of pink and orange piercing through the edges. These delicate hues cast a soft, ethereal glow over the street, illuminating the discarded litter that had been concealed in the shadows. Abandoned plastic bags rustle softly in the breeze, their shapes taking on eerie, almost ghostly forms.

The barrel fires lining the street, now dimmed, seem to flicker hesitantly before extinguishing their feeble light altogether. Their dull orange glow, once a beacon in the night, is replaced by the pale radiance of the emerging sun.

The silence, once filled with the distant sounds of the night, is now punctuated by the gradual awakening of birds singing loudly serving as natures alarm clock.

Samuel stares as a group of three parades past them. Carrying patchy ripped backpacks, their raggedy clothing swayed with the cruel freezing wind. They were heading towards the entrance, Samuel eagerly watched as they stopped at the old Holden Kingswood parked on the side of the road. They threw their backpacks on top of the sun damaged blue bonnet, and then jumped on top of the Ute. With starving smiles they scoured through their bags sharing food around the group.

"Follow me." Samuel whispered to Tony, trying to keep quiet so Sage wouldn't wake up from his slumber.

With a sleepless night, Tony sluggishly followed Samuel towards the Kingswood. They were met with glaring stares as they approached the group, their faces stuffed with food. "Tahlia invited us." Samuel awkwardly spoke.

Smiles grew on their faces as one of the men jumped off from the Ute. His arms invitingly opened wide, "Welcome! Tahlia did mention you were attending. Come join, have something to eat." The man said, his voice was loud and enthusiastic. His small eyes opened as wide as they could as he happily escorted them to the Ute. His hair was an inky black, with large frizzy untamed curls, knotted and mangled. He was wearing a torn red and blue fleece poncho.

Tony and Samuel cautiously stepped towards the Kingswood, they leaned against the bonnet joining the group. They were both promptly handed two fresh apples and canned spam. "You two are new?" A woman asked sitting on the roof of the Kingswood, her muddy boots hanging down the front of the windshield. She had dark red hair, which was tangled in large knots. Her long overcoat reached down her legs, and was tightly wrapped around her waist.

"We got here a couple days ago." Samuel responded his voice muffled as he chewed a piece of apple.

"You must of seen the Whisperer. What did you think?" The woman wondered, her voice was thick and intimating.

Tony and Samuel both glanced at each other, "He was amazing. Never seen anything like it." Tony lied faking a large smile.

"Most people don't believe it until they see it. He truly is a god." The woman spoke, her face blushing in awe.

"I believe in the Whisperer!" The three shouted in unison, showing their devotion and love for their god.

Tony and Samuel awkwardly took another bite of their apples, dropping their heads low. Samuel gazed at the man who was sitting quietly on the corner of the bonnet. He looked middle aged, his short light brown hair beginning to grey with age.  The man was wearing a wide dark red scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. His right hand holding an apple, his left hand tucked deeply in his grey puffy jacket. The man's features seemed familiar.

A strong gust of wind blew past, pushing off the man's red scarf. He took out his left hand from his pocket revealing a stump. Glancing at Tony, they both instantly remembered him as one of the men they followed to the community. Samuel was surprised he hadn't succumb to the effects of the bite yet. "What happened to your hand?" Samuel asked rhetorically.