by Amy Cross
“I'll wait for you, then!” Anthony calls after me.
“If you want,” I mutter, but I don't know if he even heard me. I carry Alice down the sloping grass until I reach the edge of the pebbly beach, and then I make my way to the stone pier.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see that Anthony is watching me, although he quickly looks down and starts busying himself with the rest of the picnic.
“Hey,” I say as I reach Kate at the end of the pier. “Are you having fun?”
“It's nice here,” she replies.
“Yeah, well, we can't stay for too long.”
“Why not?”
I glance back at Anthony again.
Again, he's looking at me.
Again, he turns away.
“We just have to get back well before dinner,” I continue, turning to Kate again. “I don't want to keep Alice out for too long.”
“Are you worried about something?”
“Of course not.”
“Mummy, you're acting funny.”
“I'm not acting funny,” I reply, aware that I must sound like I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown, “I just -”
Suddenly the sun catches a nearby wave and I see a bright flash. At the same time, I feel a flicker of pain in my head and I step back. For a fraction of a second I feel very dizzy, and I can't quite see properly, but finally my vision comes back just as I feel hands on my arms. Looking down, I find that Kate has got to her feet and is helping me to stay steady.
“I thought you were going to fall in,” she says.
“I'm fine.”
“You're not poorly, are you?”
“Hey, why don't we go for a walk?” I ask.
“Can't we have the picnic first?” she replies as I lead her back along the pier. “I'm hungry.”
“We'll have the picnic later,” I explain, reaching the end of the pier and starting to walk further along the shore. “Come on, let's take a look up here.”
“What about Anthony?”
“He's busy.”
“Shouldn't we ask him to come with us?”
“He's busy, Kate! Now please, keep up. We're going to walk to that next inlet and see what we find. Doesn't that sound like fun?”
“Um...”
“Of course it does.”
She continues to protest a little, but this time I stick to my guns and make her walk with me all the way to the inlet. My arms are aching from carrying Alice so much, but there's no way I can go back and sit around chatting to Anthony, not right now. As we reach the edge of the inlet, I turn and look back toward the car, and I swear Anthony is watching us again. I turn away and tell Kate that we're going to go a little further, so she hops ahead across the rocks.
Still, I know we'll have to go back to the car eventually. And when we do, Anthony will be waiting.
“Mummy!” Kate says suddenly, rushing over to me with clear excitement. “Look what I found!”
She holds her right hand up, and I see that she's got a wriggling crab.
“That's lovely, honey,” I tell her, even though I really don't like seeing the poor creature struggling. “Now how about -”
Giggling, she drops the crab onto Alice's face, causing the poor girl to immediately start crying.
“Don't do that!” I shout, picking the crab off and tossing it into one of the nearby rock-pools. “Kate, that was really mean!”
“I was only playing,” Kate replies, turning and hopping from rock to rock. “Alice didn't have to be such a baby about it.”
“She is a baby,” I say with a sigh, as Alice continues to cry. “Come on, sweetheart, it's okay. There's no reason to be upset.” Reaching down, I stroke the side of her face, but she's still bawling. “Mummy's here.”
“What's a soul?”
Turning, I see that Kate has stopped jumping from rock to rock, and now she's staring at me.
“A soul?” I reply. “What do you mean?”
“What's a soul?” she asks again.
I pause for a moment, genuinely not knowing how to respond.
“Well,” I say finally, “a soul is supposed to be... who you are.”
“Like my body?”
“No, more like your mind.”
“My brain?”
“No, it's... I'm not sure, honey, it's complicated.”
“Can I see my soul? Can I touch it?”
“I don't think so.”
“Oh.” She pauses, before turning and jumping to another rock. “Okay.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Alice
Today
“And publish,” I mutter, hitting the button and putting a third short story into the system.
Going back to the main dashboard, I see that the first story, titled simply Horror at Curridge Beach, is now publishing, which means it'll be live within a few hours.
This is crazy, and my agent will not be happy when he finds out what I'm doing, but I need to see if I can poke the mystery reviewer and get them to give me more information.
Rain is tapping the window harder and faster than ever, which I guess means that the storm has finally followed me down from London. Meanwhile the footsteps have stopped in the room next door, so Mr. Goodman must have retired for the night. Checking the time, I see that it's almost 4am, but I know I'm still far too awake to even try going to sleep.
Instead, I open the folder of old short stories and try to figure out which of them I could adapt to feature recent events in Curridge. It feels nuts to be doing this, but -
“Mummy!” a voice shouts suddenly, outside in the rain.
Turning, I look out at the darkness and listen to the sound of footsteps racing across the pebbly beach. A moment later, I hear the voice again:
“Mummy!”
It's a young girl's voice, and she sounds scared. The footsteps are getting further away, but I'm certain that a child is out there in the rain.
Getting to my feet, I hurry over to the door.
***
“Mummy!” the girl's voice sobs in the rain. “Mummy, wake up!”
I didn't even stop to grab my jacket as I left the pub, so I have to pull my cardigan tight against the rainstorm. I'm already soaked, and the sound of rain hitting the pebbles all around means it's hard to hear anything else. I stumble a little as I hurry out across the beach, but I can't see anything in the darkness and finally I stop close to the shore.
“Hello?” I call out. “Is anyone here?”
I wait, but there's no reply.
“Hello? Is -”
“Mummy, wake up!” the girl yells, and now she suddenly seems much closer.
“Where are you?” I shout, stepping forward across the beach. “I can't see you!”
Stopping again, I look all around. I can see the unlit cottages and the pub, and I can just about make out the line of the horizon, but I don't actually see anybody else out here on the beach. And then, after a moment, I realize I can hear another sound rising above the hiss of the rain and the roar of crashing waves.
A baby is crying.
Feeling a shudder pass through my chest, I take a couple of steps forward, but the baby's cry seems to be all around me, as if it's getting whipped up and scattered by the wind.
“Where are you?” I shout. “I want to help, but I don't know where you are!”
Hearing no reply, I finally crouch down. Since I can just about make out the horizon, I figure that by getting lower I might be able to see the silhouette of whoever else is out here with me. Squinting, I look all around, but all I see are clumps of vegetation that poke out through the pebbles at various spots along the beach.
“Mummy, please wake up,” the little girls sobs nearby. “Mummy, please...”
I know that voice.
A cold shudder passes through my chest as I turn and try to spot the girl.
Deep down, no matter how hard I try to deny the truth, I know the girl's voice.
It's Kate.
She sounds young, without the slight ra
sp that she developed later, but I know it's her.
“Kate?” I call out, and now I'm trembling with fear. “Kate, are you here? Kate, I -”
“Please wake up,” she whimpers, and I can still hear the baby crying nearby too. “Mummy, don't go! Mummy, why won't you wake up?”
“Where are you?” I shout, getting to my feet and trying to follow the voice. “Kate, listen to me! Tell me how to find you!”
I trample across the beach for a few more steps, before stopping as I realize I can see a figure slumped on the ground just a few paces ahead. At that exact moment, the baby's cries fade to nothing, and I can't even hear the girl sobbing. All I hear now is the rain falling all around, and the waves crashing against the shore.
I step forward, and now I'm certain that there's a woman's body on the ground, resting on her side with her back turned toward me.
“Hello?” I say as I get closer. My voice is trembling with fear, but I know I can't turn and run.
I have to see her face.
“Are you...”
The words catch in my throat. I look around, but the beach is still too dark for me to really see anything. There's no sign of the little girl, or of the baby, so I make my way closer to the woman's body and then finally I crouch down to take a closer look.
It can't be her.
This can't be my mother.
I stare at her shoulder for a moment, before finally reaching out to touch her. I half-expect my hand to go straight through her, for her entire body to dissolve into a mess of scattered shadows. To my surprise, however, my fingers brush against the cold fabric of a soaking wet shirt.
“Can you hear me?” I ask. “Are you okay?”
I wait, but she doesn't reply.
She hasn't even moved since I found her.
Rain is falling harder than ever, hissing against the pebbles, as I gently try to roll the woman onto her back. As I do so, however, I hear a sudden, loud creaking sound coming from somewhere in her body, and I hesitate for a moment.
Wet black hair is covering the side of her face.
“Please,” I whisper, “just -”
Suddenly her body jerks and she turns a little way toward me.
I pull back, watching in horror as her head starts to twitch. Every bone in her body seems to be clicking and straining, but as she turns to look at me I can't quite make out her features in the dark. I squint, leaning closer, and finally I'm just about able to make out two dark pits where she should have eyes, and an exposed, skeletal jaw.
“No,” I stammer, “that's not -”
Before I can finish, she lunges at me. I fall back and she lands on my chest, pressing down against my shoulders with rotten, bony hands.
I look up at her face, but she's silhouetted against the falling rain and I still can't really make out her features. After a moment, however, my eyes adjust a little better to the darkness and I realize strips of rancid flesh are hanging from her face, while maggots and worms are squirming in what's left of the meat that clings to her cheeks. Her mouth is partially open, and a few seconds later her lower jaw twitches slightly as a slow, guttural groan emerges from her throat.
“No,” I whisper, “please...”
Cold, foul-smelling water starts dribbling from her mouth, splattering down against my neck and chest. After a moment, a long, thin white worm comes sloughing out and lands on my face, wriggling frantically in the rain before slipping down onto the pebbles. Already, another worm – a little fatter this time, and slower-moving – is starting to eat its way out from the woman's forehead, while a plump maggot is burrowing through her jaw.
“Please stop,” I gasp, as several more worms drop down onto my face. I try to turn away, but I can't get my arms free as the worms wriggle past my mouth and up to my nose. “I wanted to see you, but -”
Suddenly I cry out as I feel one of the worms slipping into my left nostril. At the same time, I can feel a small biting sensation on the side of my neck, and a moment later I realize one of the fat maggots is digging its way into my body. I start frantically trying to push the dead woman away, but more and more worms are slipping through tiny holes in my skin, sliding their ice-cold bodies deeper inside me. A moment later I lean my head back and try to cry for help, but something hard falls into my mouth and I can only manage a faint gurgle as a small crab forces its way down my throat. Its legs scratch against the back of my mouth, and I can taste foul, cold seawater, but now there are more and more worms tumbling down after the crab, filling my body and expanding my stomach.
“Help!” I try to scream, but I can't get the words out.
My belly is getting bloated now, filling with gas and worms, as the dead woman leans down and presses her face against mine.
“I don't want to see!” I gurgle, but I can't close my eyes and I can't look away. Staring up into the empty sockets of her eyes, I realize I can smell salt and decay. “Please,” I groan, as the pain in my belly gets stronger and stronger, “leave me alone. I don't want to -”
Suddenly my belly bursts open as the gas breaks free, and I feel cold seawater dribbling down the sides.
“I don't want to see!” I groan, turning my head to one side as worms wriggle in my throat and in my nostrils, filling my sinuses and choking my attempts to breathe. “Leave me alone!”
I squeeze my eyes tight shut.
“Leave me alone!” I shout, suddenly sitting up straight and reaching down to clutch my burst belly.
My fingers brush against the fabric of my shirt, and suddenly I look around and find that I'm still in my room at the pub. My laptop is open on the table, but the screen-saver is running. I tap and enter my password, and then I find that it's almost 6am.
I was dreaming.
There was no woman on the beach, and I didn't go outside.
I must have fallen asleep here at the desk while I was working on the short stories. Still, even though I know the encounter was all in my head, I can still feel the sensation of worms wriggling in my throat. Getting to my feet, I head into the bathroom and pour a glass of water, and I have to drink a few full glasses before I even begin to feel less nauseous. It takes a few more minutes before my stomach settles, and finally I set the glass down.
“It wasn't real,” I whisper, but every time I blink I get a flash of the woman's rotten face. “It wasn't her.”
That thing was not my mother.
Heading back through to the bedroom, I look out the window and see that the sun has begun to rise, casting a warm, orange-red glow along the horizon and bringing a hint of light to the empty beach.
Chapter Forty
Lizzie
Thirty years ago
“The wanderers return!” Anthony says with a smile as I finally bring Kate and Alice back over to where the picnic is laid out. “I was starting to worry that I'd been abandoned!”
No such luck.
“I'm hungry!” Kate says excitedly, hurrying to the blanket and dropping quickly to her knees.
“Sandwiches before cake,” I tell her, as I set Alice down. “And don't each too much, okay?”
“It's good to see a girl with an appetite,” Anthony says. “Food is fuel!”
I want to make an excuse and go down to the edge of the water, just so I can avoid another conversation, but I guess I can't be too rude. Stepping around the edge of the blanket, I finally kneel at the farthest possible spot from Anthony. I can tell that he's watching me, and he's probably noticed that I'm not really making eye contact with him. Still, that's just something he's going to have to deal with, and right now I'm more worried about the fact that I feel a little dizzy.
“I can't remember the last time I had a good old-fashioned picnic,” Anthony says after a moment. “It's not the kind of thing you do much in this world, is it?”
As I select a sandwich from the tray, it takes a moment before I notice his odd choice of phrase.
“This world?” I ask.
When he doesn't reply, I glance at him and see a hint of discomfor
t in his expression.
“I didn't mean anything by that,” he says, trying to smile but still looking worried. “I just meant that people don't picnic much anymore.”
“You said in this world,” I remind him. “What other world could there be?”
“None whatsoever.”
“But you -”
“Would anybody like something to drink?” he adds, clearly making a point of changing the subject. Taking a bottle of squash, he sets it down in front of Kate along with some plastic cups.
“Can I, Mummy?” she asks.
“Just this once,” I reply, before turning to Anthony. “I don't usually let her drink juice.”
“There's nothing wrong with good old water,” he points out.
“So what world were you referring to?” I ask, not quite willing to drop the point just yet. Deep down, I feel as if maybe it would be good to irritate him slightly, so that he stops seeing me in a certain way. “What world do you usually spend your time in?”
He hesitates, before smiling nervously.
“Well,” he says finally, “I'm not quite sure how to -”
Suddenly I let out a gasp as I feel a ripple of pain rushing through the left side of my head. I lean forward, and the pain persists for a few more seconds before starting to fade. Even before I turn and look at Anthony, however, I know that there's no way I can hide what just happened.
“Are you sure you're alright?” he asks.
“I'm fine.”
“But you -”
“Don't mention it!” I say firmly, before glancing at Kate and seeing that she's still happily tucking into the picnic. Sure, she's eating cake rather than a sandwich, but I guess I shouldn't disturb her right now.
“Are you in pain, Lizzie?” Anthony asks.
I turn to him. “No!”
“Are you sure about that?”
“What world do you come from,” I reply, “if it's not this world?”
“I come from this world,” he says, rather unconvincingly. “I mean, where else could I come from?”