by Val Tobin
wet and glassy with snot. She grabbed a facial tissue from the box on the end table next to the couch and held it out to him. He stared at it as though he didn’t recognise it.
“Wipe your nose, Jeff.”
He took the tissue from her and dabbed his nose, then blew into the tissue and held it back out to her.
“That’s disgusting. I don’t want it. Throw it out.”
He winced, shocked, and guilt stabbed her. “It’ll be okay. Throw it in the garbage and wash your hands.”
Rachel shook her head and sighed when she remembered the pump wasn’t working. “Use the wipes over there to clean your hands.” She pointed at the kitchen counter.
Jeff did as instructed. Mom went to him and stroked his hair.
“Let’s go. We have to report this.” Mom picked up the car keys from the end table, and they walked to the door in silence. Rachel didn’t want to go and wished Dad was here. Why did he have to work today? He should have come to the cottage instead.
“Can we bring Spike? I don’t want to leave him,” Rachel said.
Mom paused, nodded. Jeff led Spike on his leash. Rachel scanned the forest on all sides. Everything was still and quiet. No birds sang. As they passed the flower garden, she stopped and looked for any sign of life. A few ants scurried across the rocks. There should be at least one toad in the garden, but she found none. Suddenly, she wished her parents owned a gun.
Rachel pressed her face to the car window while they drove to the marina, but nothing moved in the forest. Mom pulled the car into the almost deserted parking lot. The police car still sat there, but that was all. Enza and Dan’s house sat dark with the front door propped open.
“Wait in the car,” Mom said.
Rachel lowered her window and Jeff did the same on his side. Mom shut off the car, walked to the house, and stuck her head in the door. She shouted for Enza and Dan, then stepped inside the door, but remained on the landing. After a moment, Mom stepped outside again and returned to the car. “They’re not in the house.”
Spike climbed across Rachel’s lap, his paws pressing on her thighs. He tried to stick his head out the window, but Rachel pushed him back. He climbed over Jeff, who tolerated it.
Mom walked to the store, climbed the steps, and opened the door, calling out again, shouting Enza’s name and Dan’s name. Her voice pitched higher the more she cried out. She stepped back outside and let the door slam shut. Her gaze next turned out towards the lake, perhaps checking if Dan was at the dock. He often worked on the boats there.
Jeff squirmed, shoved Spike off his lap, and unbuckled his seatbelt. He opened his door and stepped out, the dog jumping out after him. They ran to Mom. Rachel glanced at the house, her spine prickling, and climbed from the car. After closing her door and Jeff’s, which he’d left hanging open, she hurried to catch up to the others.
Mom went to the pay phone and used it to dial 9-1-1. She told the person on the other end about the arm they’d found, answered a few questions, and hung up the phone.
“They asked us to wait here. They’re sending someone out.”
Rachel nodded, looking around the marina. “Mom? Where’s Spike?”
Her mother scanned the area. “Maybe he went to chase after an animal.”
What animal? They’ve all disappeared. Rachel shuddered at the thought and called for Spike. Her mouth went dry. No sign of the dog.
“I bet he went to the water,” Jeff said, and before either Mom or Rachel could react, he ran towards the docks.
“Jeff!” Mom screamed after him. “Stop. I don’t want you near the water.”
Rachel knew the water here was shallow. Even if Jeff fell in, all he’d have to do is stand and walk out. Mom worried for a different reason. Rachel’s stomach twisted into a knot while Jeff continued his mad dash to the water’s edge and the docks.
Mom grabbed Rachel’s hand and pulled her along. The boy stopped, turned, and waited for them to approach. When they neared him, Mom chastised him, but he interrupted her, pointing out onto the water.
“Look, Mom. An empty boat in the water.”
They looked. A small fishing boat drifted towards shore along the point.
“I’ll investigate. You two wait here,” Mom said. She walked along the shore of the inlet towards the point.
Jeff’s hand clutched Rachel’s.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m sure it just slipped its moorings.” But she doubted it. Rachel swallowed around the lump in her throat.
Spike yipped and ran out of the trees, ten metres ahead, stopping to sniff the air. Rachel heaved a sigh of relief and called to him. A shadow disengaged from the trees and slid after the dog. Rachel stared, mesmerised. Beside her, Jeff screamed at the dog to run, to hurry. Spike ran, and the dark, humanoid shadow loped after him, gaining on him.
Rachel grabbed Jeff’s hand. “Run.”
“But what about Mom?” Jeff said, terror in his voice.
Rachel choked back a sob. “It’s coming this way. We have to get inside.” She pushed him to make him move, and they ran.
Spike barked, a steady roof, roof, roof.
“Come on, Spike!” Rachel screamed.
The kids raced into the store. Rachel shoved the door closed and held her breath while Spike ran towards them. The creature gained on the dog. What if it caught him? What if it caught their mother?
Jeff cried and screamed for Spike to hurry. Rachel whipped the door open when the dog landed on the porch. He shot past her into the store and she slammed shut first the screen door, then the main door. Rachel locked the main door, hands shaking.
A heavy thud told her the creature had landed on the porch. Its feet slapped across the porch, the noise getting louder as it approached. The inner door vibrated when the beast rammed against the screen door. Both kids screamed and clung to each other.
Through the window, Rachel caught a glimpse of dark grey, leathery skin and sharp teeth. It hissed and made a snarl that sounded like a cross between a cat’s growl and a dog’s bark. Behind her, Spike snarled in response.
Jeff fell to his knees and put his arms around Spike. He ducked his head into the dog’s neck and clung there, crying.
The thudding against the door stopped. Rachel stepped away from the door and checked the windows. She’d better make sure they were all closed and locked. Yes. The air conditioner ran, all windows securely closed and locked.
Rachel went to the window overlooking the lake and squinted, trying to glimpse her mother. The sun had dipped behind the tree line across the lake. Shadows lengthened, and the trees, bushes, boats, and cabins surrounding them turned into dark blobs. The boat still drifted in the water, but now a dark figure sat in it. Mom. She was trying to use a paddle to push herself farther out into the lake.
Stomach lurching, Rachel whimpered when she spotted three grey, skinny creatures huddled on the shore. The creatures waded into the water. Mom paddled furiously. The creatures’ heads bobbed in the water, inching closer to the boat. The little boat spun in place. Rachel glanced at Jeff. He sat on the floor, arms around Spike.
She held her breath, staring, horrified, while the dark, bobbing heads drew closer to her mother. The boat lurched forward, away from them, but it was a futile effort. The first creature reached Mom, and a long, thin arm groped for the side of the boat.
Mom screamed, a piercing wail that carried up to Rachel. Body trembling, Rachel’s bladder almost let go. Mom used the paddle to smack the arm. The hand lost its grip on the boat, but the other two had reached her now, and the boat rocked when they gripped the side.
The paddle sliced through the air. Mom twisted around, swinging wildly. The first monster loomed up behind her. She turned and smacked it in the face. The other two hoisted themselves over the side, moving with grotesque grace and agility. She twisted again and swung the paddle. One of the creatures caught the oar and pulled the struggling woman towards him.
Rachel’s scream brought Jeff running to the window.
“No, Jeff.�
� She moaned. “Don’t look.”
But he did. When the creatures swarmed Mom and dragged her into the boat, he screamed, a smoke-alarm shriek that cut to Rachel’s core. Arms around Jeff, she pulled him into a tight embrace. She held Jeff’s head against her chest and used a hand to cover his eyes.
“No, Jeffy. Close your eyes.”
But Rachel looked, unable to stop herself, and she had no one to pull her away from the horror. When liquid spurted up, she at first thought the boat had sprung a leak. But as the sinking sun flickered through the trees on the western shore, one of the creatures held her mother’s head up by the hair and swung it. Blood spurted from Mom’s neck.
Rachel released Jeff and her knees buckled. Bile rose in her throat, and she grabbed a nearby garbage can. She vomited. A keening wail burst from her throat, punctuated by retching. When she finished, she lay exhausted on the cold tile floor. Jeff sat next to her, still sobbing. Spike nuzzled her face, and Rachel put her arms around the dog, clinging to him.
At last, she pulled herself to her feet and went to the window again, needing to see. The boat was barely visible. She couldn’t tell if the creatures were still in the boat or if they’d gone back to shore. Rachel went to the door. Where were the police? Shouldn’t they have arrived by now?
She looked around for a phone. The store must have one somewhere. She approached the door to the room at the back. Ear against the door, she listened. Nothing hid in there, she told herself, but still her hands shook, and her heart thudded in