Shantallow

by Cara Martin

  The details don’t line up perfectly, but we’re here. Somewhere off Side Road Four in Middlesbrough, within the orbit of a cadaverous house that should’ve been torched to the ground a long time ago. My imagination didn’t invent Shantallow. It’s been here waiting for us all this time. After over a year of visiting this place in my dreams, at last Tanvi and I have arrived.

  In that moment, Lauren laughs faintly. Hollow and stiff, like a sound forced rather than offered.

  She knows.

  I just caught up to the truth, and somehow she knows it. The way an animal senses an imminent earthquake — birds filling the sky before the ground wrenches open and devours everything in its path. Lauren’s tuned in to a different wavelength.

  Mine.

  Lunging forward to peer into her face, I’m met with simple calm. Nothing more than a sleeping child.

  “I heard it,” Cal confirms, eyes darting from side to side. “But it didn’t sound like it was coming from her. She never moved a muscle.”

  Luke raises his gun, whirling to point it behind him in a slow arc of motion that targets half of the forest. “We all heard it. Like when I was upstairs with John. Voices coming out of the walls.”

  Tanvi quickens her pace. “Don’t listen,” she urges, her face skeletal behind the lantern light, eyes and cheeks sinking into an abyss of shadows. Riveted, I can’t stop staring, my dream memories interlacing with reality — a dream I could only ever escape by waking up. “We have to keep going. We must be getting close to the road.”

  Hurrying onward, my ears strain for the faintest sound: leaves crunching under Tanvi’s volleyball shoes, Cal’s measured breath, and the things around us that don’t allow themselves to be heard until they’re ready.

  “Are you okay?” Tanvi whispers, falling into lockstep with Cal. “I can take her for a while.” Studying her cousin, Tanvi stretches her free arm out to grip Lauren’s hand.

  “She’ll be all right,” Cal says, answering the question Tanvi didn’t ask. “Soon as we get picked up, she’ll be as good as new. It’s this place …”

  Nodding stoically, Tanvi slowly releases her hold on her cousin’s fingers. Freed, Lauren’s hand swings rhythmically through the air, matching Cal’s steps.

  “Did you hear that?” Luke asks. “Sounded like a car.”

  The faint whirr of something that could easily be an engine. The sound snakes through the trees and lingers in my eardrums, swelling with hope. “I hear it,” I confirm.

  The four of us begin to run, Cal, Luke, and I slowed by the branches and slick leaves of the forest floor. Tanvi sprints ahead, her black hair unfurling behind her like a cape. “Wait!” I call.

  The trees shutter behind her, leaving only the narrowest gap between them. Tanvi’s lantern light flickers and dwindles, the rift between us growing by leaps and bounds. In the distance, the light bobbing in Tanvi’s hand is small enough to be a firefly. I train my eyes on its glow, propelling myself forward, weaving and jumping through the trees and over scraggy ground.

  A low-hanging branch slaps me in the face, scratching my forehead. I wallop it back and push on — afraid of losing her, panicking.

  Then I see her, standing sandwiched between two sinewy trees and pointing triumphantly ahead, her arm as straight as a Popsicle stick or curtain rail. “I found the driveway again,” she says, her voice like liquid gold. “Look.”

  Sure enough, the distance between the trees widens ahead, bare patches returning to the ground, approximating the remnants of a dirt road that veers sharply left. Our exit strategy. The way out of Shantallow — a secret my dreams never shared.

  Even the stark light from our lanterns isn’t enough to disguise our relief. For the first time in five months, Tanvi almost smiles at me, her eyes softening and her cheeks suddenly weightless. For the first time in five months, I’m not only the Misha who hurt her. I’ve become someone neither of us knows yet. The person who survived this night.

  I hold her gaze gingerly, the new feeling settling lightly on top of the others — fear, disgust, confusion — until we turn away in sync.

  “Hurry up!” Tanvi calls, pivoting to shout to the others. “We’re nearly there.”

  Luke’s voice bounds back to us from within the woods, a knife’s edge of impatience tangled with optimism. “Hold up. We’re coming.”

  16

  THE FIVE OF US wind along the muddy path, powered by four sets of legs. Following the dirt road around a sharp left where it immediately stretches, widening seductively. Fresh wind rushes against my neck and arms, echoing the sensation of freedom within reach. “Everyone stays together,” Cal lectures.

  We advance like a restless four-legged animal, Lauren our sleeping head.

  My mind conjures a mental picture of the rural side road before we reach it. Two slender lanes of gravel dividing an ocean of trees. No lights. No tarmac. But a symbol of civilization regardless. Safety.

  A guy in an old pickup truck will come bumping along the road with no inkling that he’s about to become our hero. Or a woman who works shifts somewhere, like my mom. She might be too suspicious to stop, but she’ll call the police as she drives away, glancing at us in her rear-view mirror. The cops will arrive within minutes and this will be behind us, without any of us understanding why it happened in the first place except that bad things happen all the time; the world is ripe with destruction and full of dark places. Then my eyes catapult to the shriveled black mass that lies nestled at the foot of Shantallow like a loyal dead dog — the once white van, scarred by fire. Dread courses through my bloodstream, my cheekbones and lips protruding in a silent scream.

  “That’s not possible!” Tanvi cries. “We never turned around.”

  The battered, threadbare dregs of a house — balding, broken, cracked, and crumbling — loom behind the van like an abomination born of ash. A past that won’t allow itself to die, preferring to fester like gangrene. Profoundly pathetic, reveling in its own monstrousness.

  A gunshot severs the air. I swing to look at Luke, my teeth feeling like fangs. Like I’d bite through anything to escape this fucking place, and then sleep for a hundred years, trying to forget it.

  Luke’s right arm is frozen in front of him, the pistol aimed at the house beyond the burnt-out van, and the darkness has stolen his bullet the same as if it were bone. That’s what it does. Takes everything it can get and then grabs you by the hair to take more.

  “Stop it, man,” Cal warns, his face bands of exhaustion and his torso hunched toward Lauren in his arms. “You’re wasting ammo.”

  Luke’s laughter erupts like a case of hiccups, high and choppy, tinged with hysteria. “Ammo? You think these bullets can help defend us? It doesn’t look like they’ve done jack shit.” He wags his gun at the van. “Didn’t save him. Didn’t save Joel upstairs.”

  Joel. My brain swallows the name, files it in a folder the cops will want to see along with everything I remember about Luke himself.

  “Yeah, that’s right, his name is Joel,” Luke continues. “Doesn’t matter now anyway, does it? If help comes for him, they’re going to find out his real name.”

  “Help will get to him,” I mumble, turning my back to the house and the van, making them disappear. The mismatched eyes of the house gape vindictively down at me with an intensity that burns through my spine, commanding me to acknowledge it. “We’re going to get out of here. We just have to start over.”

  Tanvi nods mechanically, her eyes light years away and the lantern shuddering in her hand. “We were sloppy,” she says. “We lost track of which direction we were walking in.” And time. We lost time and went down without a fight. Let ourselves be led docilely back to this spot, like a flock of sheep. Each of us falling into some kind of daze or hypnotic state, drinking it down like it was freedom.

  “This time we won’t,” Tanvi continues, the declaration as dry as kindling in her throa
t. “We’ll make sure.” She stares at the van, chin crumpling for a second before she pulls it taut and steps nearer to Cal. “Let me take her. You’re tired.”

  Cal gathers Lauren in closer to him, like a security blanket he’s not ready to give up. “It’s cool, T.V. I’m all right. Let’s just go.”

  Luke straightens his spine. “I can carry her. Got a little sister at home. I’ve probably spent twenty percent of my life carrying her on my back.” He holds the gun sidewise, the tension in his arm easing. “Someone else can take it. Doesn’t make any difference anyhow. It’s like bringing a toothpick to a fencing match. The gun isn’t what we need.”

  Luke shakes his head at me, pre-empting my offer to volunteer for something I’m not sure I can accomplish. “Don’t even bother, M. You’re not going to make it ten minutes down the road with that kid in your arms. And if you collapse, no one’s going to carry you. You’ll be lying in the woods praying a blanket doesn’t swallow you up like a boa constrictor.”

  Cal spins abruptly and begins walking again, without any further discussion and with no light to guide him. His steps are heavy and cautious, the way anyone moves when they’re determined to push past their limits but not commit any stupid mistakes doing it. Tanvi jogs after him, raising her lantern as if in greeting to the dirt road. Luke remains where he is, eyeing the grizzled old house, his mouth fighting an eerie smile. “You coming or what?” I say, refusing to face Shantallow again, images of the seared body under the van blazing through my neurons.

  My feet shuffle over the mud and grass, my gaze locking on Tanvi ahead, trying to eclipse the grim picture with something good, something beautiful that’s been unlucky enough to land in the worst of places. Luke coughs and catches up to me, gun attached to one hand and lantern to the other, like an action figure with accessories included.

  He laughs under his breath as we walk, cheeks twitching and the wind kicking up another notch while thunder rumbles in the distance.

  “Stop it,” I bark. “Hold your shit together.” We have to concentrate. Follow the driveway out to the side road. We can’t afford to get lost again. The storm’s gathering its forces, preparing to return.

  Luke bites back the sound trapped in his esophagus. Clearing his throat, he glances slowly over his shoulder at the scene of destruction we’ve left behind.

  “Don’t do that,” I tell him, parroting what Tanvi said earlier. “Ignore it.” Like with Lauren’s phantom laughter.

  “Why?” Luke asks, eyebrows jamming together.

  “Because it wants us to look.”

  The fine, threadlike cut underneath his lower eyelid puckers, Luke whistling through his teeth. “Is it happening to you too?” His gaze returns uneasily to the road. “Like what happened with the kid?”

  My grip on my lantern tightens. “No.” At least, I don’t think so.

  But something’s happening. The darkness is all around us, and it wants in.

  The trees are closer now, dirt road still visible under our feet. A couple of paces ahead of us, Cal’s and Tanvi’s voices are flat and hushed, whatever they’re saying to each other un-decodable by my ears.

  “What about you?” I ask.

  Luke grins unevenly in the lantern light, showing off a perfect set of teeth. Clamping his mouth shut, a frown rises to replace it. “Those guys back there, I wouldn’t call them my friends. Not most of them. But this” — his eyes pop — “this is unreal. It can’t be happening. Not how it seems. Man, I just keep thinking I’m going to wake up.”

  And if he did, would he go through with the kidnapping or walk away?

  Forget it, doesn’t matter. There’s no reset button for this day.

  Thunder booms like cannon fire, closer now. Close enough to feel in my stomach, like the beat of a drum. The sky seethes, sheet lightning penetrating the trees in imitation of blinding sunshine. Somewhere behind us, Lauren giggles manically. Never mind that she’s nestled in Cal’s arm, not five steps ahead.

  “Fuck you!” Luke sings in response, his stupid smile back in place, stretching his cheeks too far, warping his face into derangement.

  A lone drop clips the end of my nose. The ceiling of black unzips, releasing a torrent of rain. Within seconds I’m soaked to the skin. Rain washes into my eyes, my lashes struggling to push it back. Digging my hands into my armpits, I bend my head, water sloping down the back of my neck, rolling under my shirt along with the rest of the rain, pasting the fabric to my skin.

  Tanvi whirls to look at me, arms knotted in front of her breasts, hair matted sleekly to her cheeks, and eyes deflated into slits. Satisfied that Luke and I have kept pace despite the downpour, she hurries forward, bent like a tree that grew in chronic wind. I see her expression again and again in my mind as we walk, thunder exploding through the trees and lightning violently illuminating every mossy tree trunk and fallen branch.

  Through it all, Tanvi’s face.

  The storm casts off the forest’s earlier silence with a force that sends us staggering, fighting to keep our balance in the onslaught of rain. What’s left of the route out to Side Road Four threatens to wash away. From somewhere behind us, inflamed voices surge against the thunder. Closing in fast. Unearthly shadow voices that don’t belong in our world and that quicken our pace.

  With Lauren’s extra weight, Cal begins to lag behind. I could outrun him and everyone else, make it out to the road and send back help.

  The thought tilts in my brain, messing with my equilibrium. It’s what Tanvi wanted in my dreams. I didn’t like the idea then, and I don’t like it now. My foot twists sideways on the sopping ground as I slow down, righting myself.

  We have to stay together. I’m not leaving this place without Tanvi or Lauren.

  As I fall back behind Cal and Tanvi, Luke grins zealously, charging past me and diving deeper into the trees. The cacophony of voices shriek and cry, congealing into delirium. Female and male. Young and old. Inflamed, all.

  Rustling noises beat at the woods behind me. Something advancing. Swift and certain.

  Suddenly, Cal trips. Lauren bounces out of his grip, landing at the base of a gnarled tree trunk. Cal’s shoes skid out sideways, his body falling down close to hers, legs splayed out in opposite directions like an open pair of scissors. Rushing to Lauren’s side, I squat beside her, examining her face for signs of consciousness or injury. Holding one hand close to her mouth, warm air meets my skin. She’s still blacked out. Still breathing too.

  Tanvi drops down next to us, repeating Lauren’s name while the other voices rage on — drowning her out like scalpels and skewers, ripping at flesh and twisting in muscle, intent on making someone bleed. Scooping one hand under her Lauren’s head, Tanvi protects it from the wet ground. The fear in her eyes is not for herself. We’re all scared — hearts racing and fingers shaking with it — but the deepest fears are the ones you fear for other people when you hit the limits of your ability to help them.

  There’s only one thing left I can do.

  Gathering Lauren’s pale, sleeping form into my arms, I stand. Familiar pain flaps erratically inside my abdomen. Tanvi turns to check on Cal. She helps him up as I begin to jog, not allowing myself to wince, blocking out the voices as I go. Not letting myself register how much nearer they are now, practically chafing at my heels.

  Luke cuts in front of me, his arms outstretched and his smile absent. It’s okay, he mouths soberly, reaching for Lauren.

  It’s not.

  He’s been halfway to crazy since we boomeranged back to the house, and he’s one of the people responsible for our presence here. We can’t trust him.

  But Cal’s loping unevenly next to Tanvi — struggling with an injured foot — and given my condition, Luke’s chances are better than mine. If anyone can get Lauren out of here, maybe he’s the one.

  Luke hands me the gun. I take it, releasing Lauren into his grasp just as something brus
hes my ankle. Luke sprints nimbly away, a flash of lightning illuminating his path.

  The thing fastens itself around my right foot, impersonating a hand. Fingers that are not fingers pull my weight out from under me, flipping me to the ground. Flinging my arms out to break my fall, I feel cold, wet leaves skim against my chin for an instant before I’m swept into the air. Dangling like a mouse plucked up by its tail. Head swinging close to the ground, legs jutting straight toward the sky. Squirming and howling in the non-hand’s grasp.

  The light from my lantern gleams carelessly up at me from where it fell. I kick at nothing, shouting raggedly, thunder blocking out my protests with its relentless detonations. Yanking my head up close to my feet, face numb, I reach for the counterfeit fingers. Strong and immoveable as steel chains. Untouchable.

  Whatever’s holding me shakes me forcefully in its grip. My head and chest tumble, forest floor rising swiftly up to meet me. My brain rattles in my skull. Starbursts form in front of my eyes, pretty and ethereal, swirling into kaleidoscope patterns.

  No matter where you go, there you are.

  It’s something my grandfather used to say, with the smell of butterscotch candy permanently on his breath, and the concept coils through me while I stare at the crisp, whirling colors overlaid against a backdrop of drenched leaves and mud, brain throbbing in my skull. Wrong way down. Swinging, swinging. Shutting my eyes, seasick with motion. Nothing else matters. Here I am. Only here and now, everything else stripped away.

  No matter you go there, where are you?

  Pill bugs roll themselves into balls if you poke them with sticks. Protecting what’s essential. Shielding my head with my arms, I try again to save myself. Holding my head and torso near to my legs, breathing hard. Shivering and hyperventilating in the center of the storm, losing sense. Fighting for something I can’t name.