Into the Hollow (Experiment in Terror #6)

by Karina Halle

  “Into the hollow?” Dex asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “Is that what you believe?”

  I heard Mitch grunt. “I believe something big and bad lives out there. I don’t believe it’s Rigby’s beast or Sasquatch but it’s something I want stuffed and mounted in my house.”

  “Are we going to be safe tonight?” I questioned into the night air, my nerves still on fire.

  “I scared the thing off, didn’t I?” Mitch challenged behind me.

  “Technically you meant to shoot it, not scare it,” Dex pointed out. “And you missed by the likes of it.”

  Oh God Dex, don’t piss off the man with the shotgun, I thought.

  “You try shooting in the dark, you punk,” was Mitch’s response. I felt him push past us and watched as he stormed his way back to the cabin.

  I pulled away and looked up at Dex, who was now lapsed back into darkness. “Way to go, dumbass.”

  He shrugged. “What? He was acting like he was doing us a favor.”

  “Well he kinda fucking did. Dex, your llama’s head is on the ground.”

  “I feel kind of bad for calling him Twatwaffle now.”

  “You should feel bad,” I yelled. “For all we know, Twatwaffle saved our lives and maybe Mitch did too. There’s obviously something out here. Who the fuck decapitates a llama?”

  “I’m sure this particular llama was on many a hit list.”

  I jabbed him sharply with my elbow, so much so that he almost stumbled back onto the bloody area near the head.

  “Whoa easy, kiddo,” he said. “I’m just joking.”

  “You’re not taking this seriously enough!”

  He came up to me, lowering his head until his face was inches from mine. I could barely make out the gleam of the cabin light in his eyes. “I told you we’d look at this rationally first, before we start freaking out.”

  “Your idea of rational is thinking Christina and Rigby are behind this,” I whispered harshly. “And if you think it’s not even remotely frightening that they’d go so far as to rip the head of their own precious llama, then you’ve got a screw loose.”

  “I have no screws loose,” he shot back in anger. I could feel him tense up, on the defensive.

  “Oh we both have screws loose. Just fucking look at us, Dex! We’re in the mountains trying to find Sasquatch and we’re arguing over the llama formally known as Twatwaffle.”

  He sucked in his breath and looked down at the grainy shape that was the llama’s head in the darkness. “All right, all right. So I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going on.”

  I coiled my gloved fingers around his coat sleeve and pulled him toward me. “Neither do I. So then what do we do?”

  He looked back at me and in the thin light I saw the look of defeat on his brow. “Wait until morning I guess.”

  I sighed and turned around, heading back to the cabin. He was right as he often was. There wasn’t much we could do until morning. There was no way we were going to make our way back to Rigby’s at night, which meant we were shit out of luck.

  Once we were back inside, Mitch went to make sure the remaining llamas were OK. Luckily they were fine, though thoroughly spooked and uneasy about the whole event. We still didn’t know what happened, whether Twat– I mean, Apricot got loose and then was attacked or whether he was taken from the pen. I wanted to think it was the former, because if it was the later, then it meant that we could be taken from the cabin. That’s if there was a beast, and you know what, I was starting to think there was. Why on earth would Rigby and Christina decapitate their own llama – something that would have cost a pretty penny – in order to prove a point? There were better ways to do it, however from the furrow on Dex’s brow as he sat near the fire, I could tell he was still thinking it over. I knew he had a darker view of humanity than I had and would be quicker to place the blame on a fame-hungry business.

  Even with all the doors locked and Mitch taking watch for most of the night, his eyes bug-eyed and creepy as hell, shotgun in his lap, I barely slept. In fact, because I couldn’t sleep by our feeble bedroom window, Dex and I ended up bringing all of bedding out into the living area and sleeping in front of the fire. I felt a hell of a lot safer this way, even though trigger-happy Mitch was in the room with me. And unlike my fantasies, this was no time for sex with Dex on the rug.

  When I finally did drift off though, I found no respite. I dreamed of teeth, blood and claws.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The next morning I felt like my mouth and head were shoved full of cotton balls. The lack of sleep wasn’t taking it easy on me and I slogged around the cabin in a half-asleep state. I wish I could say this meant I was more relaxed and chill but though it felt like the world was passing by me like mud, I was still nervy from the night before.

  And I was also getting a little cabin crazy, which is probably why, when Mitch suggested we go camping, I didn’t protest as much as I thought I would.

  I still protested, though.

  We were outside surveying the remains of Apricot in the sunshine. It was a piercing blue sky that soared high above the trees and the world around me glistened like a Christmas card. It was warmer, too, and I found myself sweating underneath my gloves and hat, which still didn’t counteract the chills I got whenever I caught a glimpse of blood out of the corner of my eye, the slaughter even redder now in the broad daylight.

  I was keeping the camera focused on Mitch and Dex as they argued over what to do.

  “We really need to get back to Rigby,” I told them, Mitch especially.

  “Rigby is too far away,” he answered, not looking at me. He shoved the sleeves of his army-issued jacket up his arms in a huff. “And the walkie talkies are useless.”

  That they were. We had been trying all morning, but neither of them could pick up any signal. It was like broadcasting into thin air.

  “He’s not too far away,” I countered. “That was an easy walk, just over an hour. We could be there and back before lunch time.”

  “Then you guys go ahead,” Mitch said with hard eyes. “I’m finding out what happened to the llama before it gets picked up by the raptors.”

  Oh shit. “Raptors?” I questioned with shaking lips.

  “Birds of prey,” Mitch said, like I was an idiot. “They’ll come and pick off whatever is left behind. I thought you celebrities were all about finding the proof. Well here is your proof, if you want it. If you don’t, tough tits, but I’m going and I’m taking a llama with me.”

  “You’re camping?” Dex asked.

  “Couldn’t pick a better day to do it, could I?” Mitch growled back, raising his arms to the saturated sky. “You’re both welcome to join me still. I can take you to the places on the map, just like Rigby wanted.”

  I remembered the map that Christina had given me, then decided it was best to keep it a secret for now. I looked to Dex. He had his newsboy cap pulled low on his head, his eyebrow ring glinting in the sunlight. He was thinking and thinking hard and I knew that the decision would come to me. It usually did.

  As I thought, when his brows couldn’t knit together enough, he raised his head and looked at me with wondering eyes. “Well, kiddo, what do you think?”

  What did I think? If Dex and I left for Rigby’s, we’d be on our own without a guide. It didn’t seem like a tough trail to follow but it was one we were unfamiliar with. With luck it would take us a short while to get there. Without luck, we could veer way off course with minimal food, no protection and walkie talkies that didn’t work. It didn’t seem like a very good plan.

  “Will my llama lead us back?” I asked hopefully.

  “Your llama will lead you to my llama,” Mitch answered confidently. “And I’m the one with the food.”

  I wiggled my lips back and forth. “What about if we stay behind in the cabin and wait for you to return?”

  Mitch shrugged. “If you want to do that, be my guest. Just know that I’m taking the gun and according to
Rigby, that thing can open doors.”

  “Perry,” Dex said gently, coming over to me and guiding me away from Mitch with his arm. He lowered his voice and spoke into my ear. “This is totally up to you. Whatever you decide, that’s what we’ll do.”

  “That’s putting an awful lot of pressure on me,” I whispered back. “What do you want to do?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  I studied his eyes. They were conflicted as anything but I caught a hint of resolve somewhere inside. He knew. He usually did.

  “You want to go with Mitch,” I supplied.

  “I want what you want.”

  “Are you going to resent me if I make us stay behind?”

  I expected a roll of his eyes or some kind of rebuttal. Instead he took both his hands and cupped my face in them. My skin tingled under the warmth of his touch.

  “Baby,” he said, his tone gruff yet solemn, “there’s nothing you could ever do to make me resent you. You’re my light, remember that.”

  My lungs constricted and a flush of warmth filled my lips and I waited, anxiously, for him to do something like kiss me. Something to distract me from the sincerity of his words. But he didn’t do anything except hold my face close to his and stare at me like he was trying to read my soul.

  When I realized I wasn’t going to get a straight answer out of him other than the one he was giving me, I knew I had to make the decision all on my own. He did not want to be held accountable for anything that happened and I couldn’t blame him for that.

  Still, I had to remind him, “You don’t want to put me in danger…”

  He shook his head gently. “No. I don’t. And if I thought one choice was less dangerous than the other, then that’s the choice I’d be making. And there would be nothing you could say about it.”

  My swallow felt thick in my throat and I wanted him to keep holding onto me a few minutes longer. But eventually his hands dropped away and my skin was met with sparks of cold from the mountain breeze.

  The fact was, Mitch was going. I needed to know where exactly and for how long. I wanted to get some footage – that is the reason we came – but I didn’t want to go on a wild goose chase down a mountain. I trusted Dex with my life and I knew he’d do anything to protect me, whether that meant getting me back to Rigby’s or guarding me at the cabin. But when it came down to the place we were, the wilderness around us, I had to rely on Mitch. He was a creep who made my skin crawl and I wasn’t sure if I could totally trust him, but I felt he was the safest person to be around. He had nothing to gain from the expedition except a hunting trophy of some sort. He wasn’t afraid. Maybe we shouldn’t have been either.

  I cleared my throat and looked around Dex’s shoulder to him. He was chewing tobacco and watching us with feigned interest.

  “Aren’t you scared?” I asked him.

  “Of what?” was Mitch’s response.

  “Of what’s out there?”

  He chuckled to himself, totally humorless. “No, girly. I ain’t scared. Cuz I don’t know what’s out there. I want to find out though.”

  “You don’t think it can kill us?”

  “Hell, maybe it can. Lots of things out there can kill you. You just have to be prepared. If you think I’m some redneck moron who’s just going to take off into the bush after something without arming himself to the teeth, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m a hunter. I hunt things. It’s not the other way around.”

  I exchanged a look with Dex.

  “Whatever you want to do,” Dex whispered. “I won’t let anything happen to you either way.”

  And you know, I believed him.

  I threw my shoulders back in an attempt to appear brave and looked at both of them.

  “Well considering I’ll go crazy if I have to spend one more day in that cabin and I’m not about trust our abilities to find our way back, I guess we’ll be joining you on your camping trip, Mitch.”

  Mitch’s face remained passive at my response, but just as I was about to head back inside to pack, I caught a gleam in his eye. It was something worse than sinister. It was excited.

  ~~~

  Because there were only so many hours in the day, we had to pack fast. Rigby had left us with a lot of essentials but with only two llamas left, we couldn’t take everything. We decided protection against the cold was the most important. I was already feeling pretty ripe thanks to the freezing cold towel-showers I had taken from the wash basin, so I figured it wouldn’t matter if I lived in the same clothes for the next day or two. It would save on space and instead we packed a copious amount of space blankets. A lot of high energy foods like chocolate bars, nuts and jerky were in all of our small backpacks, as well as the dehydrated camping food. Even though the walkie talkies still weren’t getting a signal, we brought them along anyway. I wished we had some other way of getting help in an emergency – our cell phones were useless and I ended up leaving mine behind - but I prayed that they’d end up working somewhere along the way.

  Just as we got the llamas outfitted, our packing job not as neat and tidy as the one Christina did, Mitch walked up to Dex and handed him a rifle.

  “You know how to shoot, bud?”

  Dex raised his brows and then looked to me. “If you remember correctly, Perry’s the one who can shoot a gun.”

  Mitch didn’t even give me a glance. “Never trust a woman with a gun, son.”

  “She’d do a lot better than Charlton Heston.”

  “Charlton Heston’s dead.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Um,” I spoke up, giving Tonto a nervous pat. “Do we really need two guns?”

  “What if there are two of your beasts?” Mitch responded, still looking at Dex. No, he was staring him down until Dex reluctantly took the rifle into his hands. Oh this was just brilliant.

  “They aren’t my beasts,” I countered.

  Mitch just shrugged. “Ready to go?”

  Dex and I exchanged a wordless glance. When were we ever ready?

  We started out following the few spots of blood that had been left from the scene of the crime. Considering a llama body had been hauled off somewhere, I was surprised at how little there was to show for it. If it wasn’t for the occasional patter of red, we wouldn’t have a trail to follow.

  The trail also happened to correspond with Rigby’s map, which Dex kept looking at every five minutes. I kept Christina’s map close to my chest. I mean, it was literally folded up in my inner coat pocket.

  The hardest part of our journey came first, the steep, sliding trek down the slope toward the hollow of trees. Thankfully the snow provided better grip this time around and Tonto was extremely surefooted. The llama-less Dex was right behind me too, ready to catch me if I fell.

  With the hard part out of the way, the most unnerving part was next – the hollow. Even the llamas stopped their constant chewing, looking nervous and on edge as we entered the thicket of trees. As before, a cold, neverending wind whistled through like we were walking through an underground tunnel. The light from above was blocked off, bathing us all in a dim, grey light and it was completely silent except for our boots and the occasional llama snort.

  We had just passed the area where Rigby had found the footprint when I felt Dex at my side, squeezing up next to me in the narrow path. Branches scraped at his coat as we passed.

  “How are you doing, kiddo?” he whispered, keeping his eyes on Mitch in front of us.

  “Nervous,” I admitted in a low voice. “You?”

  “I feel great,” he said. Then he grinned at me and patted his rifle.

  I shook my head quickly, taking an involuntary step ahead of him. “That has to be the worst idea on earth.”

  “What? You don’t trust me?”

  “I don’t trust you with a shovel, Dex.”

  “Touche.”

  We walked in silence for a few minutes, the path growing so narrow that he had to go back behind Tonto, who was raising his head higher than normal, nostrils flared w
ide. He didn’t like this any more than we did and who could blame him. We had to have been walking for at least an hour and there was still no sign that the path would ever end. It was just dark grey undergrowth and ominous tree-tops everywhere you looked.

  I was about to panic, my claustrophobia finally settling in, when the path suddenly widened and the air around us grew brighter. A few happy minutes later and all of us spilled out into the open.

  We stopped at the edge of the forest. I looked around me, blinking hard and taking it all in. I guess we had been walking gradually downhill that whole time because we were a lot lower in elevation. There was no snow around us, just a rolling landscape of mossy rocks and scatterings of trees beneath towering peaks that threatened to block out the low sun. It was very green, the air slightly warmer, and in the distance you could hear the growling rush of a river.

  “Well if it ain’t Rivendell,” Dex commented, stretching his arms above his head. I was perplexed at his comment, considering I had just compared the hollow to the Mines of Moria the other day.

  “Rivenwhat?” Mitch asked, turning to face us.

  Dex gave him a dismissive wave and pulled out his map. “Nevermind, are we there yet?”

  “The blood trail has stopped.”

  “So now what?” I asked, feeling tired and impatient. I wanted to get to wherever the hell we were going so we could set up camp without being in darkness.

  “Give me the map,” Mitch demanded. I saw Dex cluck his tongue, like he was catching himself from saying something “Dex-like”, but did as he asked.

  Mitch brought the map up his face, his brows scrunched up as he looked it over. I had the impression that the dimwit needed glasses. Then I imagined a pair of Harry Potter ones on him and had to choke back a laugh. It was nice to not feel intimidated by the guy for one second.

  Mitch put down the map and looked around him. Then he brought a compass out of his jacket pocket and raised it to his eyes.

  “We ain’t too far from where we should camp. Don’t matter where the trail stopped, the animal has to be out here somewhere.”