“Oh, big spender. Trying to impress me by flashing all that cash around?”
“Is it working?”
“You better believe it.”
“I might have two pennies.”
“Holy shit, my panties are soaking!”
Laughter exploded out of Chad. Heather blushed as she realized what she’d said.
“I wonder what would happen if I flashed you a nickel,” said Chad. “Might blow a hole in your undies.”
Heather laughed. She knew if it weren’t so dim in the car, he’d be able to see how red her face was. “You might be right.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said suddenly.
“Me too.”
And she truly was, for the first time. Her doubts had finally disappeared.
Something appeared in the glow of the headlights. Heather glimpsed arms waving back and forth as the headlights washed over a young woman’s face.
She was screaming.
“Look out!” Heather shrieked.
Chad jumped as if he’d been kicked when he noticed the woman. “Shit!”
He jerked the wheel to the right, narrowly evading plowing through the woman standing on the yellow line. The car dipped when the tires went off the blacktop. Heather bounced in her seat, letting out a cry of alarm as the tire plowed through the road’s snowy shoulder. Frosted weeds whipped the car, the ice shattering like glass.
“Hang on,” said Chad through clenched teeth.
He turned the wheel to the left, not hard, just a slight movement. The tires went back on the pavement. The ride smoothed out momentarily before the tires lost their purchase and started to swerve. She felt the car spinning behind her, pulling her towards the door. Through the windshield, the road seemed to be moving away from them. Then trees filled the glass.
The back tires dropped off the road. They dug into gravel, throwing rocks against the undercarriage. Snow and dirt smacked the window, smearing downward.
The tires hit something hard and the car jerked to a halt. The engine continued to roar as if Chad was still giving it gas.
He quickly jerked the gear into neutral. The angry rumble of the engine softened.
Heather, holding her breath, had one hand gripping the door handle in a death squeeze. The other hand was on the dashboard. She had no idea when she’d gotten into this position.
The headlights pointed up at the trees, throwing a glow across the woods. If the lights’ path was going upward that meant so was the car.
“We hit a ditch,” said Chad through winded breaths.
Heather’s chest was starting to hurt, lungs burning. She released the pinched breath. Huffing, she looked around. Darkness was slowly smothering either side of the road. The yellow line vanished in the shadowy tunnels between the trees.
Sitting up, Heather made herself let go of the dash. She reached over to Chad, patting him to assure herself that he was still there. “Where…is she?”
“You saw her too?”
Hands slapping Chad’s window made them both scream.
Ted
It was harder with Steph trying to help him, and the dwindling light made it worse. Though Steph fought to keep him up, they’d nearly fallen multiple times. After another near tumble, Ted stopped. “Don’t wait on me,” he said. “Just keep running. I won’t be far behind.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
Ted pulled away from her. “Probably…”
She grabbed his arm. “I’m staying with you. Now come on. Let’s go.”
They were deep in the scorched woods now, moving away from the cries. The snow was coming down harder, and with the contrast of the glaring white, the trees looked blacker and more evil. It felt as if they’d entered a wicked forest, and Ted figured the analogy wasn’t far from the truth.
Steph tugged his arm. Ted started to move, but stopped when he noticed Steph’s footprint in the snow.
“Shit,” he muttered.
He looked behind them, seeing their tracks in the shallow snow. He recognized his by the splashes of red in nearly each one.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Our footprints. All they have to do is follow them right to us.”
“Let’s hope the snow is coming heavy enough to cover them quickly…”
Ted nodded. The snow wouldn’t cover them as fast as they needed them to. But there was nothing either of them could do about it.
They started moving again. Ted employed a run-and-hop motion. It hurt his foot and was agonizingly draining. His chest felt like it was on fire, lungs squeezing. Proof of what two packs a day was doing to him. His breathing sounded wheezy and shrill as it puffed out in the air before him.
Steph sounded almost as bad, though not quite as winded. She was already exhausted and having the same breathing problems.
Ted had no idea where to go or, more importantly, where they were. Steph still had the map, though they didn’t have time to check it for their location.
Steph looked back at him. She’d taken the lead by a couple steps.
“I’m okay,” he said.
Her flame-colored hair flapped around her face and out behind her. She faced forward and continued to run.
Something dark dropped from above them, hitting Steph’s back and knocking her forward. Her stomach pounded the ground and she slid forward. At first, Ted thought a leafy branch had broken from the extra weight of the snow and had fallen on her.
What am I seeing?
The branch was moving, scampering across her back as Steph kicked her legs and swatted behind her.
He didn’t have time to decipher what was happening. If he hesitated even for a moment, it might be too late for her. Limping, Ted made it to Steph. She’d gotten her knees under her, but still couldn’t get up.
The thing on her back was cloaked in garb that made it easy to blend in with what was around them. But on Steph’s blinding white coat, he could see it vividly.
“Help me, Ted!”
He reared back his hurt foot and flung it forward. The flat of his shoe connected with the creature’s face. He felt something crack under his foot, like stepping on a thin stick, and watched the tiny beast soar through the air. Its back hit a tree. Tumbled to the ground, unmoving.
It felt like he’d stepped on another trap as sharp tendrils of cold burst up to his shin. His other foot slipped in the snow, yanking him onto his ass once again. His teeth clacked together as pain shot up his spine. For a terrifying moment, he couldn’t feel his hips, then even more pain found them.
Steph rolled onto her side. “What the hell was that!?!” She whipped her head toward the tree, gaping at the teensy form lying awkwardly at the bottom. Its pruned face was coated in blood that formed down from its nose. “What the hell is that!?!”
Wincing, Ted leaned forward. He put his hand on her back, checking for wounds. Other than a couple tears in the coat, she was fine. “You know what it is.”
Steph gasped. “No way…they’re real…?”
“Very fucking real,” he said. Ted got on his knees, groaning with the aches in his body. “We’ve got to go!”
Nodding, Steph scrambled to her feet. She looked up. “Do you see any more?”
Ted checked the trees above them. Branches reached across from all sides, jagged, twisting tentacles that connected into a network of charred shelter. It was impossible to tell for sure, but he was willing to bet there might be.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Come on.”
Now it was Ted who was standing and helping Steph to her feet. He noticed how her eyes seemed glassy and white. They couldn’t focus on him, only seeing what was around them. He gripped both of her arms and gave her a hefty shake. Steph shrieked and looked at him.
“Snap out of it!” The gust of his shout stirred strands of her hair. “Kee
p it together!”
Steph shook her head, then nodded. “Okay!” She jerked out of his hold. Then she slapped both hands against his chest and shoved him back. “Don’t ever do that again!”
“Don’t make me!”
Steph hugged him, burying her face against his chest. He could feel the heat of her breaths through his shirt. He hugged his coat around her. Her body trembled against him. From this angle, she looked like she was laughing, but when he felt a warm wetness on his chest he realized she was crying.
He felt bad for shouting at her. But there wasn’t time for consoling. Gripping her arms again, he eased her back. Their eyes locked. “We’ve got to go.”
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and nodded. When she opened her eyes again, she said, “Okay…”
Something that looked like a quill punched into Steph’s shoulder. It struck her in the small space between Ted’s fingers. Gasping, Steph staggered away from him. She reached for the quill, snatched it out and held it in front of her. “What the hell?”
Blood trickled from the tip.
Before Ted could make sense of what had happened, Steph’s eyes were rolling back in her head. Tranquilizer? Her chin dropped, pulling her body down as if a weight were attached to it.
She hit the ground.
Ted saw the bear trap right before her face came down on the catch stick. The impact sprang the trap. There was a sound like clanging metal and a pair of jaws barked out of the ground. They snapped together around Steph’s head, causing her skull to implode into a pulpy mess that sprayed across the ground around her.
Ted stood frozen. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t scream, couldn’t cry. “Stu—Steph,” he murmured.
He felt numb as he gaped at Steph lying on her stomach, arms down on each side of her. Her head looked as if someone had put a wig over a busted melon. She didn’t move.
This isn’t happening.
Shrieks resonated from behind him. Much closer now. The trees shuddered, the limbs rustling and bouncing as tiny bodies flitted across branches, leaping from tree to tree.
Shit! They’re everywhere!
Ted’s legs started moving, carrying him forward in that same run-hop-skip method. Glancing over his shoulder, he glimpsed Steph’s dead body where he’d left it.
Abandoned it!
There was nothing he could have done. He knew this, yet it didn’t make him feel any less like a bastard for running away while she stayed behind. She looked so lonely back there. He hated himself for fleeing, but his body had done so without his mind’s consent.
I’m so sorry!
Before he knew it, the woods around him were thinning, moving back from the path as he reached a clearing.
The sullied ground was flat and even around a stone chimney that protruded from the earth in a pillar of brown and gray blocks.
Must’ve been one of the houses that burned down.
As he moved closer, Ted started to make out black streaks across the stones from the old fire’s burning tongue. Maybe he could fit inside. Squirm his way up the stone flue.
And hide.
His foot dragged a dotted red line through the snow behind him. He stumbled, tripped, but stayed up.
Reaching the chimney, he dropped to his knees. He felt the wet cold leaking through his pants.
He leaned into the fireplace, twisting his body so he could look up. Flakes of snow sprinkled into his eyes. He saw a pale block of light topping the chasm, the pallid clouds drifting across the sky.
He might be able to climb in, using the stone walls as safeguards.
And trap himself inside the shaft with two entrances and no exits. Didn’t matter either way. He could already tell he was much too large to fit inside.
Reaching inside up to his elbows, he felt around as if he might somehow make the space stretch. He felt flakes trickle over his hands as he pushed and prodded.
“No!”
He pounded the ash dump with both fists. His hand bounced off a chunk of scorched log. He snatched his hand back, gripping it in the other. Painful, wavering jolts pulsed through, swirling like bumble bees from the numbness caused by the cold.
He heard rustling behind him, tiny feet swishing through snow. He turned around and found he was no longer alone. Tiny creatures wearing stitched burlap rags were circling around him, huddling close. Armed with tiny spears and knives, they watched him from under the cowls draping their heads. A fringe of threads dangled like tiny hairs over darkened faces.
None could have been taller than two feet.
Ted’s heart pounded into his throat, his ears filled with the rushing sounds of blood. His eyes scanned them. “What…are you?”
One snickered. Then another. Soon all of them joined in, giggling in mocking squeaks.
Their laughter pierced Ted’s ears like the cry of a speaker’s feedback. Cupping his hands over his ears only seemed to trap their high-pitched chortles inside. Eyes wide and roaming, he gawked at the creatures.
They stalked closer, moving in a synchronized formation. No way could he get them all, but before they killed him, he planned to take down as many as possible.
His arm shot out He grabbed a frail, chicken-thin throat. And squeezed. He felt bone spurs crunch as his grip constricted into a tight fist. Ted tossed the body with its wrung neck aside.
As he was getting to his knees, another lunged.
Ted caught it midair like a football, rolled backwards and got onto his knees once more. The tiny creature’s arms and legs spun wildly, its tiny mouth snarling and biting, putrid breath fanning him. He gripped under its chin, fingers curling around its neck. And pulled. The skin of the neck stretched like putty until it ripped. The head came off, a tail of spine curving from under it. Blood sprayed Ted, doused his hands and clothes. He threw the pieces away as well.
When he looked up this time, the group was no longer spread around him. They’d assembled together, rushing toward him with their weapons held high. A unified shriek filled the air.
A spear the length of a ruler punched into his abdomen. It went in deep, plunging swiftly. He felt the triangular blade twist one way and back. Then it was wrenched out. Pain flooded his gut as blood started to flow out.
Ted went to fall but caught himself on one hand. A different creature charged, bringing its scythe toward his face. He turned his head, narrowly avoiding the slash. He caught its twiggy arm and snapped it back as easily as breaking a candy cane. The scythe fell to the ground. The creature staggered back, arm dangling the wrong way, and screamed, Ted snatched up the tiny weapon.
He held it pinched between his thumb and forefinger. It felt like something meant for an old G.I. JOE doll. He knew he would drop it, so he twirled it under his hand and stuck it up between his index and middle fingers. He balled his hand into a fist, the teensy weapon protruding like a hook.
He tried counting them, but they hopped around too quickly. Even if he miraculously slayed them all, he wouldn’t be in much shape for running away. His foot, his stomach—too much blood was being lost.
A blade made a swipe for his shins. It sliced the denim of his jeans in a tight line, stretching the fabric open like a mouth. He could see the pale stripe of his sock through the gap. The tip had missed his skin.
He threw his arm out and up in a vicious swing, not caring what he hit, as long as it was one of them. To his astonishment, he saw a bloody gash open a stomach, splitting the burlap like a vest. The garment fell back on its bony shoulders, its skin flapping wide and unveiling coiled intestines underneath. A pinkish rope started to slough out, dripping from the incision like a cord being pulled. The creature staggered back, howling in pain, its teeny hands trying to push its insides back where they belonged.
This seemed to momentarily delay their assault. Some turned to watch their comrade as it screamed and cried. Watch its blood gush out and dren
ch the burlap cloak in dark crimson. Their distraction gave him the opening he needed.
Against the pain, Ted got to his feet. He kicked out, throwing his shoe under the chin of the closest creature. Its head snapped back and stayed there, as if its face had sprouted from its back. He swung the diminutive scythe, slashing a little face that was pruned like drowned flesh. Sticky, hot blood doused his hand as more sprayed out in a fountain. An eyeball the size of a marble was stuck to the bowed blade like an olive on a toothpick.
Ted prepared to run. Planting his foot, he kicked off with the other, but had only gone a couple steps when one leaped and wrapped its frail arms and legs around his uninjured leg below the knee. He felt jagged teeth tearing through his pants. Then it chewed through the thin skin over his shin. More hot agony blasted him. Juicy rips from his leg being chomped blended with his screams. He heard grinding sounds of sharp teeth scraping across his bone.
He sank to his knees. The creature was pinned between his shin and the ground. He tried pushing down, putting pressure on the shrunken beast, in hopes of crushing it. All it managed to do was shove his meat deeper into its mouth.
Something landed on his back. Tiny hands dug into his coat, pulled it taut against his shoulders. He swung out with the scythe, the eyeball still attached, and hit nothing. When he brought his hand back, he saw it no longer contained the weapon. It must have flown out of his hand in his blind strike.
More hands grabbed him, climbed him. He felt the bodies swarming over him, working like coyotes, coming in one at a time until the prey was no longer a threat. Now they all roamed freely, no longer scared. They didn’t have reason to be. Ted could no longer fight back.
A stream of fire shot across Ted’s throat. Putting his hand against his throat, he felt fluid flooding out in hot gushes. He held his hand out and saw it was deluged in blood.
His blood.
They slit my fucking throat!
Ted caressed his throat. Blood sluiced between the cracks of his fingers. It kept coming, pouring as if from a spigot. His vision blurred and he fell onto his side, freeing the fiend that had been trapped under his leg. He felt it clamber out from under him, then pad up his leg like a cat looking for a place to snuggle. Rolling onto his back, Ted gazed up at the steel-colored sky. The dark clouds flowed like murky water, dropping snow in fluffy dots. He felt their cold plops on his face.
The Lurking Season Page 22