The sound of hurried footsteps brought him out of his reverie. Accompanying the footsteps was the sound of soft girlish laughter. Moments later he could see them. Two young women, girls really, walking along the footpath through the park, now drawing even with the pavilion, they suddenly went quiet and stopped, looking at Adamel, clearly surprised to find anyone inside the wretched place.
They were both short in stature, even for humans. One with hair as red as the sunset, the other with chestnut brown hair cut short to fall just below her ears. The redhead took a couple of steps in Adamel’s direction, then stopped, a small smile on her face, eyes wide and unafraid.
“Hi,” she offered.
Adamel unfolded his long body from his perch on the table, stood, shoving his hands deep within the pockets of his jeans.
“Hello there,” he answered.
The redhead took a couple of more steps toward the pavilion. She put a hand on her hip, long red lacquered nails digging into the soft flesh showing just above the band of her jeans.
“You’re not from here,” she said. “Wanna know how I can tell?”
“How?”
“You wouldn’t be hanging around in there if you were,” said the brunette. As she spoke, she drew up even with her friend, who gave her an annoyed glance.
“Way to butt in, Piper.”
The brunette looked immediately chastised. “Oops,” she said. “Sorry Amber.”
The redhead, Amber, ignored her friend and continued. “She’s right, no one ever goes in that place. Would you like to know why?”
Though of course he knew exactly why, he decided to keep that to himself. “Sure, tell me,” he said. “Is it against the law or something?” Talking to these young women was difficult. He had no clear idea of how he should speak, how old he should claim to be.
Should he flirt? Feign some sort of attraction? He just wasn’t sure. He was sure however, that he would have to cut this short, always mindful of his effect on these strange humans.
“It’s haunted,” the one called Amber announced. “A girl hung herself in there.”
“But not really.” The brown-haired one, Piper, was shaking her head. “It’s just what people say. I mean a girl did hang herself, but it’s not really haunted.” As she spoke, she shivered slightly, wrapping long thin arms around her body.
Adamel could discern an aura of darkness surrounding her, pushing against her pale white skin as if searching for a way inside. She could not possibly know of the darkness, but still her eyes seemed haunted, as if the world around her was some bleak and awful wilderness.
“You’re full of shit Piper,” Amber said. “It’s haunted as hell.” With that, she seemed to dismiss her friend as surely as if she’d cast the girl away.
“Where are you from?” she asked Adamel.
He was, of course, quite ready for that question. He was from California, on his way east. He’d always wanted to visit the Mamou Springs, so he was spending some time, hoping that the Springs would help his leg. He pretended an old injury from a bicycle fall.
“Ha,” said Amber. “The Springs are a crock. Won’t do a thing for you.”
Though in truth, she knew of many people who swore differently.
“So, are you staying here long?” asked Piper. As she spoke, the darkness cast slender tendrils in the direction of her mouth, caressing her lips. Its want was so palpable that Adamel could actually smell it.
He forced himself to ignore the pulsating aura, and focus on the question he’d been asked. It was a tricky one. He didn’t want to indicate an extended visit to Mamou, as he could not under any circumstances cultivate any friendships or relationships with these humans. On the other hand, he had no idea how long he’d have to stay, so was hesitant to assure anyone of a swift departure. He’d noticed that most young men of this world seemed to be quite aimless, so he decided to be vague.
“I dunno,” he said. “Until I’m ready to go.”
Right then a beep sounded from the pocket of Amber’s skin tight jeans. She reached back and pulled out a phone, peered at the screen, a look of absolute glee lighting up her features.
“Oh My God, Piper!” she squealed, wrapping those red lacquered nails around her friend’s thin wrist. “It’s Josh and Marty,” she gasped. “They want us to hang at Josh’s house.”
Piper rolled her eyes, clearly not as enthusiastic as her friend. She looked at Adamel and offered a tiny little wave.
“I guess we’ll be seein’ ya,” she said.
“Gosh, yeah,” said Amber. “And hey, don’t drown in the springs.”
And then they were gone, and Adamel was once again alone in the darkness of the pavilion. He thought about the other young women he’d been sent here to find, and wondered briefly if Jillian and Stella would be likely to squeal in delight over the prospect of spending time in the company of young men. From what little he knew of them and their kind, he found it most unlikely. Though he’d yet to meet either of them, he knew they wouldn’t be that expressive. It wasn’t in their nature.
And then there was the third guardian, of her he knew nothing more than that she existed. Where, and as whom, he had no idea. That was something he was going to have to rectify, and soon.
He felt the rumblings of hunger deep within his gut.
What would it be today? Gumbo? With a side of steaming sourdough bread?
He’d discovered that the food consumed by the locals was delicious beyond measure.
Before he left the pavilion, he turned once more to gaze at the young woman hanging from the rafters. He felt a twinge of regret that he could not send her on to the next world. He could have, of course, he could even absolve her mortal sins, but it wasn’t yet time. He needed her energy for just a little while longer.
“Goodbye, for now,” he told her.
A thin breeze answered, blowing through the rotted structure as the hanging girl began to gently sway.
Chapter 4
Jilly wasn’t afraid of much. The walk through the woods had mostly been without incident, just a moment or two when the sounds of animals scurrying through the underbrush had scared her pretty badly, but the little strip of forest had at least offered her some cover. She wasn’t entirely sure that the Gilmore’s wouldn’t start looking for her if they woke to find her gone. If they hit the roads in their search, they would get to this stretch of road sooner or later.
Now she’d run out of woods, and would be open and exposed for about the length of a football field. And that wasn’t the worst of it. No, the idea that some creepy serial killer type might see her and decide she’d do just fine, well, that was certainly on her mind. Green’s Lodge, Tennessee wasn’t exactly a hotbed of craven deviance, so that scenario was pretty unlikely. The idea of homicidal maniacs was worrisome, sure, but the one thing that Jilly was bone deep terrified of was the lake, and the dam that held it back.
And now she was going to have to cross it, at night, all alone.
She hesitated for a second, then put one foot on the walkway that ran on the side of the highway as it snaked its way across the top of the dam. There wasn’t much of a moon, and Jilly was glad.
She looked down and across at all those thousands of acres of water. It was almost invisible. Just a little twinkle here and there where the dam lights bounced off the water. Good, she thought. Better if I can’t see it.
The lake was full of dead things.
Somewhere beneath all that water was a little village that had been called Kirby’s Hollow. Yes, a whole town lay at the bottom of that lake, and it was just about enough to make Jilly turn around and run back into the woods. Back to the Gilmore’s. Forget about Louisiana, her mother, just every freakin’ thing. Was anything really worth walking across that dam at night? Everyone in Green’s Lodge believed it was haunted, and maybe for once they aren’t full of shit, Jilly thought.
Way back in the old times, the story was that the first dam had burst. Every living soul in Kirby’s Hollow had drowned. For a mom
ent she imagined how they must have felt. Did they wake for a few seconds? Long enough to feel the icy wetness rush into their mouths and noses until the water just filled them all the way up? Did they have a chance to scream? People said that those folks never knew what hit them, but Jilly didn’t believe that for a minute. They’d had just a moment to know, just a fraction of a second to realize that death was at their door, they’d felt it, yes indeed.
Without letting herself think too much about it, Jilly put both feet on the walkway and started across the dam. Don’t turn your head, don’t look at the water.
Though it made no sense at all, it seemed to Jilly that the night had grown darker. The blackness surrounding her seemed deep and thick, and way too quiet. At least the sounds in the woods had felt normal. But this silence, it was like dead things. No, don’t go there Jilly girl, no thinkin’ about dead things.
They squirm.
The thought just sort of came to her. And with it, visions of rotted corpses and pulsing worms and fish that bite you.
Son of a bitch. I’m going to piss my pants before I ever get across this thing.
Jilly had almost made it to the other side when she saw the headlights approaching. Shit, she thought. Up ahead, where the dam ended there was an overlook where cars could pull off the road and admire the view. She made a mental measurement of the distance between where she stood and the parking area. If she could get to it in time she could climb over the side of the railing. It was on solid ground, so she knew if she could just get there, maybe she could get herself out of sight.
Not gonna happen, she thought. Even though she was only a few yards away from the overlook, the car was just coming too fast.
Maybe it’ll just whiz right by me. She had dressed in black for a reason, after all. She reminded herself that it was highly unlikely anyone was looking for her. But what if it’s some crazy Texas Chainsaw type dude, then what will you do? Bullshit, Jilly, you are a total dumbass freak. Trying to scare yourself.
As the car, a mid sized compact, passed her by, she let out a sigh of relief. Not the Gilmores. They drove a Dodge Caravan. And the car hadn’t even slowed. Thank you, God, she whispered. The driver of the car had either not noticed her, or not given a shit. Either way was fine by Jilly. Even if they weren’t a danger, she didn’t relish the idea of having to explain to some do-gooder why she was dressed like a bandit and walking alone at night.
Jilly was just steps from the overlook when she heard the sound of a car approaching from behind. From the sound of the engine and the tires on the asphalt, she could tell it was going very slowly. Was it the same car? She cast a quick glance over her shoulder. The headlights were the only thing visible, so she couldn’t be sure.
It sure as hell looks like it, and oh, that is sooo not good.
She picked up her pace then, almost running, and within seconds she was across the dam and standing in the gravel of the overlook parking area.
The car slid in right behind her. It was the same mid sized compact that had just gone by.
Okay, why would they turn around and come back? Jilly felt a hard stab of fear, and with it, a certainty. This is going to be trouble.
Jilly looked down at the ground, hoping there might be a rock big enough to use as a weapon. Useless. Even with the faint illumination of a nearby streetlight, she couldn’t see well enough to tell. There could have been an assault rifle at her feet and it would have been invisible. The darkness was that complete.
The driver’s side door creaked open, then immediately, so did the passenger door. The inside of the car was lit by the overhead dome light, and she could see them both.
Dylan Richards and his creepy friend Gilbert. Dylan was a mean son of a bitch, dumber than a rock, but big, real big. And Gilbert, who knew? He never said anything, but something about him was just off. And his eyes, they’re just dead. But a smart kind of dead.
Sly, she thought. Gilbert is sly like a fox. Jilly had always had a feeling that he had it in him to be way worse than Dylan. At school and around town, the two of them were bad enough. Everyone knew that Dylan kept a gun, and people said that Gilbert had skinned his own puppy. Alive. She had figured that was a made up story, but what if it was true?
As the thought entered her head, she felt a sudden pain that began in her feet and worked its way all the way up to her head. The pain was so unexpected and intense that she cried out. Her vision went momentarily black, followed by a white searing light. And then as suddenly as it came, it was gone.
She staggered on the gravel, almost fell, then regained her balance. What the hell?
“Hey, is that you Jilly?” Dylan said as he made his way across the gravel.
As they were approaching, Jilly was backing up. How do they know it’s me?
She was thinking about the black ski mask and then realized she was no longer wearing it. Jilly put a hand up to the top of her head to see if it had somehow managed to slip off her face without her realizing. It wasn’t there, but something was. Something that didn’t belong. What the hell is on my head?
It was hair, alright, but not hers.
Her long straight hair was gone. In its place was hair that was not only a great deal thicker, but curly as well. My freakin’ hair is curly, how the hell did I manage to grow curly hair in the space of an hour? She by God knew what kind of hair she was supposed to have on her head, and this wasn’t it. Jilly was so shocked that she almost forgot that she was about to be accosted by two creepy dudes in a pitch black parking lot.
“Jilly?” he said again, then to Gilbert, “Can’t tell for sure if it’s her or not man, it’s too damn dark.”
Dark. Yes, it had been pitch dark, should be still, but now I can see, and I can see really well. She took her eyes off the approaching figures long enough to check to see if another streetlight had come on. As she looked up, an enormous streak of lightning lit the sky. The streetlight that had been on made a buzzing noise, then instantly blinked off.
She could see even better.
Jilly turned her attention back to the boys. By now they had taken a few more steps in her direction. They were almost close enough to touch. Standing several feet behind them, she could make out the form of another person, a man, holding something in his arms.
It was a cat, an orange one. The man was watching Jilly intently, all the while his large white hands were stroking the fur of the cat. Something is wrong about the cat. What? Where did he come from? Was he in the car, or was he there all the time and I just didn’t see him?
To hell with this, Jilly thought. Just talk to them, then maybe they’ll go away and leave me alone.
“Yes, dipshit,” Jilly said. “It’s me.” She was still amazed at how well she could see. It was like having night vision thingies or something, only without the creepy green glow. She could see that Dylan had gotten himself a fresh crop of zits, and Gilbert had a big black stain on his shirt. The man, though, was still wrapped up in shadows. She could see that he was tall, with very long jet-black hair, but his features were a blur.
What is wrong with that damn cat?
“What are you doin’ out here walking in the middle of a storm?” Dylan asked her. “And ain’t it past your bedtime?” Dylan looked over at his friend, who was grinning from ear to ear. He had the look of someone who was about to take a bite out of something truly delicious.
“It wasn’t storming when I started, obviously.” She answered. Though she was speaking to Dylan, her eyes were on Gilbert, and the man standing in the shadows behind him. “Besides, it isn’t actually storming, not yet anyway.”
“Ask her if she wants a ride,” she could hear Gilbert whispering to Dylan. But even though it sounded like a whisper, she could hear it as well as if he’d spoken the words into her own ear. And his voice, it had an odor. It smelled like dead things. How do you smell a voice?
“I don’t want a ride.” Jilly said. “I’m good.” The odor was growing stronger. It seemed to radiate off the two boys in sickening wav
es. She could almost see it pouring from their mouths and noses and ears. Like something vile and rotten was trying to get out. She felt her stomach begin to heave, and it was all she could do to keep from vomiting. There has never in the universe been a smell this bad before.
“Damn, girl,” said Dylan. “Are you half dog or somethin’? You sure can hear like one.” He turned to his friend. “Can you believe she heard that? Hell, I barely heard you myself!”
At that, Gilbert began to howl into the night. “Jilly-dog,” he chanted between howls. “Man, sounds like chili dog! Can we eat her Dylan?”
“Dunno, Gilbert, but I’ll bet she’d be tasty.” Jilly could sense the change in the boys. It was sudden, and ugly. The simple meanness that had been there before was turning into something worse. They were grinning at her, and for a second she thought their teeth looked different. Longer. She had a sudden, vivid thought of an alligator sunning on a log, a big fat smile on its face.
“Reckon you’d be tasty, Jilly-dog?” As he spoke, Dylan reached out and grabbed Jilly by the arm.
That was when everything just fell away, and the parking lot was gone, and she was in a forest with no color, as if someone had just opened a vein and drained out every single hue, leaving only dead brown things. In front of her, and swinging open, was a tall iron gate. Beyond the gate was a red room. And in that room was a single chair, and on its white velvet cushions sat the man with the cat that was just wrong. “Don’t do it,” he said. “Just take a breath.” But she couldn’t, because the scream was just too big and it came, and as it came she saw what was wrong with the cat.
Beasts in the Garden Page 3