When the Devil Takes Hold

by Jenna Lehne

  “That’s because we’ve been hiking, and running, all night. It’ll be cold soon, trust me.” Teddy stands up. “I’m going to go find some branches. Can you find some kindling?”

  “Sure, but I don’t have a lighter,” I say.

  “I can figure it out.” Teddy smiles through the flashlight beam. “Scouts honor.”

  He kisses me on the head before disappearing into the thick brush. The sounds of snapping twigs are the only thing that tells me he’s nearby.

  I tuck my flashlight underneath my chin and start collecting small sticks and broken branches. After a particularly loud crack, I stand up and turn around.

  “Teddy?” I take a step toward the sound. “You better not have tripped and broken your leg or something. There’s no way I can haul you down this stupid mountain.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Teddy asks from somewhere behind me. I whirl around and find him fifteen feet away from me in the opposite direction.

  “Myself,” I say quickly. If Korku really is the demon of fear, exposing one of Teddy’s isn’t going to do us any favors. I rejoin him and show him my tiny stack of kindling. “Is this enough?”

  “It’ll be good enough to start,” he says. He unloads a couple handfuls of moss, an old, cracked branch, and a few smaller ones. “Now let me see if I remember how to do this.”

  While Teddy gets to work on cavemanning us up a fire, I discreetly listen for more cracks in the woods. They don’t come. Hopefully a fire will scare off whatever is lurking in the woods.

  If we can make a fire that is.

  Just as the thought crosses my mind, the smell of smoke fills my nostrils.

  “Holy shit,” I say. “You actually did it.”

  “Almost did it,” Teddy corrects. “Can you put a little bit of that moss in the split in the wood?”

  Using the flickering light of my flashlight to guide my way, I stuff dried bits of moss into the tiny, smoking cavern. Tiny, orange sparks explode and burn into the surrounding log.

  Teddy arranges tiny sprigs around the mini fire. Soon, there’s a small fire. We take turns adding the bigger sticks to it, cheering each time they burn. I’m so entranced by the fire that I’m not paying attention to the rustling in the woods. It isn’t until we run out of wood that I realize how close the breaking branches are.

  I freeze and reach for Teddy. “Did you hear that?”

  Teddy is still wearing his Boy Scout grin. “Hear what?”

  A grizzly the size of a mini cooper bursts through the bush behind him and sinks it’s teeth into Teddy’s shoulder.

  Teddy and I scream in unison. The bear takes a lumbering step backward, yanking Teddy onto the ground.

  “It’s not real, Teddy!” I shout. I grab his foot and tug but all I get is his sneaker. “Say it, Teddy. The bear isn’t real. Its just Korku fucking with us!”

  “You’re not real!” Teddy swings his fists over his head and connects with the bear’s nose over and over again. A deep growl rumbles up the bear’s throat and he miraculously lets go of Teddy.

  Thick blood spurts from the puncture wounds from on Teddy’s shoulders. He drags himself toward me with one hand, leaving a crimson trail behind him.

  I wave my arms over my head and scream as loud as I can. The bear snorts and backs up a step.

  “Murphy, get out of here.” Teddy pulls himself to his feet.

  The bear ambles past Teddy and towards me. It roars, spittle flying out and hitting me in the face even though he’s ten feet way. I cover my ears and hold out my hand for Teddy.

  “I’m not leaving without you,” I say, tears springing up and pouring down my face. “We need to run.”

  “You run! Don’t you get it? Not being able to protect you is my greatest fear.” Teddy makes it another wobbling step before he falls. “If you’re safe, the bear will disappear. Trust me!”

  I freeze for a minute before I turn around. I run, hating myself every step of the way I put between myself and Teddy.

  The bear doesn’t follow me.

  I find a low hanging tree branch and pull myself up. Even though bears can climb, Teddy will think I’m safe.

  The bear stares down the trail I left in the dirt and then slowly turns around. I wait for it to disappear. Teddy faced his biggest fear – he saved someone he cared about. The bear pads slowly toward Teddy. It walks past him.

  I breathe out a sigh of relief.

  Then the bear turns around and catches Teddy’s face in its powerful jaws. One tooth disappears into the flesh beneath his jaw. Another burrows into the skin covering his cheekbone. I leap from the tree and run without thinking. I grab a log out of the fire and smack the bear in the head. The bear doesn’t acknowledge me, instead he gives his head a mighty shake. A guttural cry tears through Teddy before the bear shakes him again. Something snaps…something so much louder than a branch.

  Teddy’s body goes limp.

  The bear disappears into the night, dragging Teddy’s lifeless body behind it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I wait for a second, maybe two, before I chase after the bear. I don’t know what I’m going to do when I catch it, but I’m not going to let him take Teddy. I sprint down a trail, moist with blood, but I can’t see the bear or Teddy anywhere. I keep running until my foot meets something solid and I dive headfirst into the ground.

  The something groans.

  “Teddy!” Tears spring to my eyes. He’s not dead. I’m not alone. I crawl over to him and grab either side of his face. I pepper his face with kisses. “Tell me what to do.”

  “There’s nothing you can do, Daisy Grace.” Teddy coughs, spraying my face with warm blood.

  “Yes there is. Come on. Get up, Teddy. I’ll carry you down this fucking mountain if I have to,” I say. I grab his hand and pull him up.

  Teddy’s head lolls to the side.

  I gently lower him down. I pull his head into my lap. “I mean it,” I say. “I can carry you.”

  “No you can’t.” Teddy lets out a wheezy laugh. “But I’d like it if you stayed with me.”

  Tears fall and I don’t bother wiping them away. “I don’t understand how this happened. You faced your fear. You kept me safe.”

  “Maybe the bear wasn’t Korku’s.” Teddy closes his eyes. “Maybe if was just a regular, old killer bear.”

  “Hey,” I say. I lightly slap his cheeks. “Stay with me. Please.”

  “I’ll try.” Teddy cracks his eyes open and grits his teeth. “Hurts though.”

  I push Teddy’s hair off his forehead. “It’s okay then. You can go to sleep. I won’t leave. I promise.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Teddy smiles. Even with my flickering flashlight, I can see the blood leaking out of his mouth. “Just going to sleep for a minute.”

  I nod and pull him as close as I can. I bend down and press my lips against his. “Okay. I’ll stay right here.”

  “Promise?” Teddy’s eyes flicker shut.

  “Promise.” I look over my shoulder so my tears don’t land on Teddy.

  He stops breathing a few seconds later. I don’t try to revive him, not that it would do any good anyway. Instead, I wiggle out from underneath him and curl up on his chest. I promised him I’d stay here, and I’m not going anywhere.

  At some point, I fall asleep. I wake up dehydrated and cold, still wrapped around Teddy. He’s cold and stiff now. The early morning light shows me the damage the bear did. His face has deep, purple punctures from the bear’s teeth. Our shirts are caked with dried blood. I pull myself out of his death grasp just as a wave of tearless sobs take over my body. I punch the ground, turning pinecones into dust. I climb to my feet and drive my fist into the closest tree. White-hot pain shoots up my forearm.

  “Fuck!” I shake my hand and feel tiny bones grinding together. Boys always make punching things look so easy. I look up into the perfect blue sky and scream at the invisible demon, “Just kill me now and get it over with. What are you waiting for?”

 
I wait for a ghost to rise from the dirt or a goddamn T-Rex to burst through the bushes, but nothing happens. The woods are completely silent. I look between Teddy and down the mountain. Do I stay here and wait for more horrors to be unleashed? Or do I get the fuck out of this forest.

  I make my decision and drop to my knees next to Teddy. I run my fingers over his face and kiss his forehead. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

  I start walking down the mountain, kicking everything in my way and swinging at everything else. The pain of losing my friends has turned into anger. I’m confident that if Korku materialized into a pro boxer, I’d destroy him in seconds.

  As I walk, I keep an eye out for signs of the landslide but Teddy and I must have hiked further than the damage’s reach. Strong, old trees covered in moss and the occasional bunch of toadstools surround me. With Teddy, I was too preoccupied to realize the graveness of our situation. Now I can’t think of anything else. I’m lost, alone in the woods, and everyone else is dead. Now dying alone – the only fear I confessed to in the lake – isn’t just possible, it’s inevitable.

  The briskness of morning fades and the sun rises way too fast. It’s then that I realize how thirsty I am. I haven’t seen so much as a puddle since Teddy and I started our descent, and all our water is with the bags. I think back to the National Geographic shows Dad always watches. All I can remember is the host telling us harvest the morning dew. I pause and brush my hands over a small, leafy plant. The leaves are bone dry.

  I pick up my pace and let the decline of the mountain turn my walk into a slow jog. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth but I don’t slow down. If I don’t make it to the road soon, I’m going to pass out from the heat. I try to think about something else, but my mind either reverts back to snapshots of my best friend’s deaths or how thirsty I am. Again, dry sobs rack through me but I don’t slow down.

  Hours pass. The sun is beating down on my head now. Sticky sweat covers my entire body. My feet, legs, and back aches. My lungs feel like they’re on fire. The only thing that keeps me going is thoughts of my maybe, possibly, hopefully seeing my family again. The constant bubble of hysteria that’s been in my stomach since Teddy died threatens to pop. My eyes are dry and itchy from the zillion different breeds of pollen floating around the air. I slow down my pace and close my eyes for one second. My foot instantly hooks under a tree root and I fly forward.

  I duck my chin into my chest and end up rolling forward instead of stopping. The decline increases and I roll again, this time a little faster. I fling my limbs out to try to stop myself but my stiff legs work against me and help catapult me further down the mountain. I reach out to grab a tree but my wrist connects with a rock instead. Something inside my arm cracks. My shoulder bounces off a rotting stump before I roll directly into a huge spruce.

  My breath whooshes out of me and I stare up at the sky. I spit out a mouthful of blood, unsure of what’s actually bleeding in there. My body shakes, starting at my feet, traveling up my legs and into my back. It spills down my arms and finally takes over my head. The trees vibrate around the corner of my vision. I already know that something inside me is broken, maybe beyond repair. I should be scared, but I’m not. Death would be so much easier than getting up and walking another step. A warm, calming sensation brushes against the back of my brain and suddenly I’m so tired. My heart slams painfully around my chest and my breaths come further and farther between.

  I’m just going to sleep for a minute.

  Just one minute.

  Sleep claims me in seconds. I dreamt that I’m back at home, curled up on the couch with Peyton, Hayley, and a lame horror movie. Someone calls my cell. It’s a number that’s been disconnected for a long, long time.

  “Murphy, wake up,” a familiar old voice whispers from a memory.

  “I can’t,” I reply.

  “Daisy Grace Murphy, wake up, now!” The voice hollers into my ear.

  I open my eyes and find myself in the woods, nose to nose with a familiar face.

  “You can’t be here,” I whisper. “It’s impossible.”

  “Impossible doesn’t hold a whole bunch of weight around here, babe.” Chocolate brown eyes crinkle with a smile. “Did you miss me?”

  I gasp for breath and reach for him, not caring if he’s real or just another one of Korku’s mind fucks. I pull him down and wrap my arms around his warm neck. I bury my face in a beat-up leather jacket and inhale the scent of engine oil and peppermint. I choke on tears but force his name out anyway.

  “Sam.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “Murphy,” Sam murmurs into my hair. “You need to get up.”

  “No, I don’t. If you’re here, it means I’m dying.” I push him back a couple inches and stare at his face. “Or am I already dead?”

  Sam pushes his long, dark hair out of his face and shakes his head. “You’re not dead. Yet.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” I’m still lying on my back. The sun is already dipping behind the peak. I must’ve been out for hours. I flex all my body parts. My wrist is badly sprained at best, but most likely broken. My shoulder feels like an entire windshields worth of glass has been jammed back into it.

  “Can you get up?” Sam squats next to me.

  I nod and slowly get to my feet. The world spins and I almost pass out again. Every breath hurts; the pain is so intense it doesn’t leave room in my head to wonder why I’m still talking to a person who clearly isn’t real.

  “Are you okay?” Sam asks.

  No.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say instead.

  “Come on, Murph.” Sam slowly starts walking with me. “I’m the one person you don’t have to lie to.”

  “Then I’m not fine.” I lean against him and hobble slowly down the mountain. “I haven’t been fine since you left.”

  “Since I killed myself you mean,” Sam says.

  “That’s what I meant.”

  “I guess I should say I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t need to apologize,” I say. “I know how…impossible it all was for you.”

  Sam stops walking and steps in front of me. He wipes a tear that somehow formed and landed on my cheek. “I’m sorry I nearly killed you too. I shouldn’t have let you get in the car.”

  “You didn’t have a choice.”

  “I could’ve dropped you off at home then,” he says quietly. “Or waited another day.”

  I don’t say anything. Fourteen months of questions burn inside my head but I can’t say a single one.

  “You must hate me.” Sam drops his hand from my face.

  I take a deep breath that makes the edges of my vision blur. “I hate that you left me alone. I hate that I have to live without you, but I don’t hate you. I don’t blame you. I just miss you. Every fucking second.”

  “I miss you too, but we need to get moving,” Sam says. “Now.”

  Sam helps me down the mountain, but after an hour, he lets me go. I instantly crumple to the ground.

  “I have to go, Murph,” he says.

  “Don’t leave me,” I beg, panic and intense sorrow bubbling up in my chest. “Please. Not again.”

  Sam squats in front of me. “I can come with you a little further, but I can’t help you anymore. You need to do this next part on your own, okay?”

  “I can’t,” I say. “It hurts too much.”

  “I know, baby.” Sam stands up. “Just try to make it a little further.”

  I grab a low branch and pull myself to my feet. My entire body protests but I make myself walk. A squirrel darts in front of me but I don’t stop. A bug bites the back of my hand. The forest sounds…alive. I squint through the trees and spot a skinny, grey trail below. Not a trail, but the road.

  “It’s the highway!” I turn to grab Sam but he’s gone. “Sam?”

  Only the birds answer.

  I want to cry but there isn’t a point. Sam was never here to start with.

  I keep my eyes on the road and painsta
kingly walk down. Now I have to pray that I’m on the right side of the tunnel. I could’ve gotten turn around a hundred different times. If I’m on the wrong side, I won’t make it back up and around again. When I reach the road, I drop to my knees and press my lips against the warm pavement. I’ve never been so happy to something in my life. That is until I hear the sound of flowing water. I hobble around a bend in the road and see a wide stream. I bend down and scoop water into my mouth as fast as I can. When I reach into the water for the tenth time, my hands hit metal.

  I pull it out of the water and find myself looking at a bent, dented Volkswagen sign. The hair on the back of my neck prickles. I look downstream even though I already know what I’m going to find. Roped off in bright yellow police tape, is the charred remnant’s of Henry’s van. Tiny pop-up signs with numbers drawn on them spread out around the van and the road. An abandoned police car is parked in the shoulder. There isn’t a person in sight.

  A flash of orange catches my eye. I move toward the van as fast as my body will carry me. The explosion has completely destroyed the front of the van, leaving only black metal and unidentifiable engine parts. Wedged half underneath the wreckage is a long, orange-shrouded lump. Every cell in my body screams at me to leave it alone, but my hands don’t listen. I reach out and pull back the orange safety blanket. A charred face – forever preserved as screaming - stares up at me. A tarnished, silver locket winks up at me from the ashy throat. The letters P and H are eloquently scrawled into the surface.

  “No, no, no,” I whisper. This isn’t possible. She can’t be here.

  I crawl away to the side of the van and peer in. A twisted metal spike impales the driver’s seat, only this time the seat is covered in blood so dark it turns the grey fabric black. Red-tinged glass from the windshield covers the roof of the van. A few sprigs of Olly’s hair are glued to them with blood. I see the evidence of my friends all around, but other then Peyton, I’m alone. I pull myself to my feet and finish my tour around the van…and then I see them.