by Shawn Sarles
Caleb continued to press down on the deer, holding the animal steady as it jerked feebly.
The deer convulsed one last time and then fell still.
Maddie turned and took off after everyone else. She couldn’t handle any more. Whatever else Caleb needed to do, she’d already seen more than enough.
ELEVEN
“ABIGAIL!” MADDIE’S VOICE CARRIED THROUGH THE trees. “Abigail!”
“Abigail!” Chelsea took up the call, screaming it into the woods. She shouted a couple more times and then turned to Maddie. “I don’t think she wants to be found.”
Maddie grimaced and plopped down on a nearby rock. When they’d gotten back to camp, they’d realized Abigail had gone missing. But Maddie was actually glad Kris had asked her and Chelsea to go and look for the girl. She needed time to clear her mind. Maddie shut her eyes and pulled her knees in close, hugging them to her chest.
“I’d want to disappear, too, if my dad had just nearly killed someone.”
“Thank God for having less-embarrassing dads,” Chelsea said, trying to lighten the mood. She sat down next to Maddie and leaned against her. “You okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
But was she? She looked down at her hands and saw they were still shaking. She quickly curled them into fists and buried them in her lap.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Chelsea said. “Because I’m not.”
Maddie rested her head on Chelsea’s shoulder, and the two girls sat there on that rock in the middle of the woods in silence.
“I’ve never seen that much blood before,” Maddie eventually whispered. “It was all over the trees and the ground and Caleb’s hands.…”
Chelsea rubbed Maddie’s back and waited for her to finish.
“And Caleb… he looked—” Maddie paused and tried to find the right word. “He looked so… broken.”
The girls lapsed back into silence. Maddie couldn’t get Caleb’s face out of her head. The hollowness in his eyes as he’d knelt over that deer and delivered it to a quicker death. He wasn’t as hot when he was sad. His dimple didn’t pop out. His eyes didn’t sparkle. Maddie wanted the other Caleb back—the uncomplicated, easy-to-crush-on version of him.
She shuddered again, thinking about Caleb cutting the deer’s neck open. She wondered what it was like—to feel the life drain out and away. She looked down at her own hands.
Clean and innocent.
Could she have done it?
His knife had moved so easily through the skin and muscle. It wouldn’t take more than a flick of the wrist. The slightest pressure.
“Did you hear that?” Chelsea’s whisper broke through Maddie’s thoughts. She picked up her head and listened. “There it is again.”
She heard it this time, a rustling in the woods, getting louder. They must have found Abigail. Maddie turned toward the noise and waited for the girl to appear. She narrowed her eyes and tried to see through the underbrush.
Then suddenly Maddie heard a new sound, something tinkling ever so softly, ringing in time with the rustling. She recognized it immediately.
But it couldn’t be. It didn’t make any sense. She looked over at Chelsea, and this time the sound wasn’t in her head. Her best friend had heard it, too. The rustling got closer and she heard the bell ringing out as plain as day. She reached down and found Chelsea’s hand. She squeezed it tight. Neither girl moved. Whatever this was, they’d face it together.
The jingling got louder. Closer. Then, just as it reached a peak, it stopped.
Maddie sucked in a breath and held it. At the same time, her eyes strained to see past the trees right in front of her.
One second. Two seconds. Five seconds. Twenty seconds.
Time ticked away at an excruciatingly slow pace as Maddie waited for the worst.
Her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her, was it?
She peeked over at Chelsea, who wore a similar look of unease.
No. She hadn’t made this up. Her eyes flickered back to the trees, but she didn’t see anything. She blinked, and then two men appeared.
A scream broke through Maddie’s lips in one deafening outburst. Beside her, she could feel Chelsea screaming, too. The two girls clung to each other and shut their eyes.
But then, as Maddie’s scream died down, she realized something. She flipped her eyes back open and looked at the two men again.
She recognized them.
And they weren’t men at all. But boys. Two of her classmates, in fact.
“Hah!” Abigail whooped, coming out from behind the boys, laughing her head off. She had to steady herself against a tree to keep from falling over.
“God!” Chelsea swore, releasing her grip of Maddie and patting her own chest, waiting for her heartbeat to drop back to normal. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“I think I am having a heart attack,” Maddie said, her fingers pressed into her neck, feeling her pulse racing. “It’s almost worse than when Abigail’s dad shot at us.”
“Wait,” one of the boys chortled. “Your dad shot someone?”
“It’s not funny, Jason,” Abigail snapped, and the boy’s grin disappeared from his face. “And for your information, my dad shot a deer. Not any of us. He’s not a complete idiot.”
“Just be glad it wasn’t him you were sneaking up on,” Chelsea quipped, having regained some of her composure. “Or you might have a few new holes in you.”
Jason’s face paled.
“What are you two even doing here?” Maddie pointed at the boys.
“Well, I asked my mom if Jason could come,” Abigail explained in her usual, snippy voice, “but she said no. Even though she doesn’t seem to have a problem with Dylan and her boyfriend spending the week together, doing God knows what every time they sneak off into the woods.”
Having fights about breaking up was what they were doing, but Maddie knew better than to mention that to Abigail. Instead, she pointed at the other boy.
“And Tommy’s here because—?”
Tommy Meyers—a.k.a. Funyuns-breath—stood next to Jason. He’d come a long way since Maddie hadn’t kissed him at that party all those years ago. He’d grown six inches and buzzed his hair short so that he looked ready to join the army. And he’d gotten muscles from playing on the Varsity baseball team. Maddie couldn’t deny that he looked good. But that didn’t mean she was any more into him now than she’d been five years ago in Chelsea’s basement.
“He’s been having a rough couple of months,” Jason jumped in and defended his best friend. “I thought it’d be good for him to get away.”
“And you two, what… let him watch when you start making out?” Chelsea couldn’t help herself.
“Maybe Maddie can keep him company,” Abigail cackled. Maddie wrinkled her nose at this. “Oh, right. You’re saving yourself for Caleb. Let me know how that goes.”
Maddie ignored Abigail’s sarcasm and turned on the boys instead. A feistiness started to bubble in her blood.
“Why the hell are you trying to scare us?”
“Because it’s funny,” Jason replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I wish we’d been recording it. Your faces were priceless. You had snot dripping out of your nose.”
Maddie self-consciously wiped her face, which sent Jason into another fit of giggles. Tommy, to his merit, didn’t seem as amused.
“It wasn’t funny,” Chelsea piped up, clearly pissed. “Where’d you even get a bell?”
Jason pulled out his cell phone and waved it in front of their faces.
“The wonders of technology. And a kick-ass sound effect app.” He clicked on his phone and a bell rang. Maddie jumped, even though she could see him doing it.
“I’ve got all sorts of great ones here.”
Jason clicked another button, and his phone growled like a wildcat. Then a gunshot cracked from it. And finally he had it fart at them.
“Hilarious, right?”
“Not one bit,” Chelsea
glowered.
“Wait.” Maddie had a thought. “Then was that you with the tree, too?”
Abigail couldn’t keep her glee hidden as she nodded.
“My idea. Jason carved the marks this morning before anyone was up. Pretty genius, right?”
“Um, pretty stupid,” Maddie shot back, though she felt a wave of relief to hear that the marks were indeed fake. “You sent your dad off the deep end.”
Abigail waved the accusation away.
“He was crazy paranoid before that. He always is. It was only a matter of time before he did something stupid.”
“Well, whatever.” Maddie didn’t feel like arguing. “Playtime’s over. We’ve got to get back. Your mom’s worried.”
“Let her worry. I’m having fun.”
“You can have your threesome later,” Maddie snipped, her patience breaking. “Say good-bye and let’s go. Unless you want me to tell your mom where you’ve been disappearing to.”
Abigail had her mouth open, but closed it quickly at Maddie’s threat.
“Always a party pooper.” She shot Maddie a truly hateful glower. “Fine. I’m coming. I’ll see you boys later tonight, though.” She waved flirtatiously at them and didn’t wait for Maddie and Chelsea as she headed back toward camp.
“Maybe we’ll see you later, too?” Tommy spoke for the first time. He looked at Maddie with hesitant eyes.
“Yeah—maybe,” Maddie relented. Was Tommy Meyers flirting with her? She looked at him again, trying to decide. “But don’t hold your breath.”
She turned and followed Abigail. A bell rang behind her, but she didn’t turn around. Instead, she raised her hand high in the air and silently flipped Jason off as she went.
TWELVE
A FIRE CRACKLED IN THE MIDDLE of camp, where Maddie sat staring into the orange flames. The sun had gone down an hour ago and the moon had risen to take its place, high and full in the sky.
Across from Maddie, Caleb sat by himself, his face expressionless. He’d spoken barely two words since coming back to camp. His arms had been covered in blood, and Maddie had watched as he’d cleaned up, taking his time scrubbing his forearms until they’d glowed a faint pink and carefully picking the dried blood from beneath his fingernails. She’d been so worried about him that she hadn’t even been able to appreciate his abs when he’d changed shirts. Once clean, he’d disappeared into his tent, not even eating dinner with them.
But now he’d come out of hiding. He still looked grim, though, as he polished his knife against his jeans, every once in a while testing the blade with his thumb. He glanced up and saw her staring, but didn’t smile or wink like usual. Instead, he grimaced and dipped his head right back down, worrying over his knife again. Maddie couldn’t look at him any longer. It was too depressing. So she let her gaze wander.
Behind Caleb, Maddie’s brother and Dylan sat together, sharing sips of a beer. They held hands and giggled softly into one another’s ear. Charlie leaned in and stole a quick kiss. They looked so happy. Apparently they’d gotten over their fight that afternoon. Good thing she hadn’t gotten Chelsea’s hopes up.
Maddie moved on—she didn’t want to pry—and spotted Bryan next, lying in the short grass all by himself. He wasn’t drinking. Instead, he stared up at the night sky. Stargazing quietly. He looked peaceful in his solitude, though.
A rustling off to the right drew Maddie’s attention. She turned and saw Mark emerge from his tent, the first she’d seen of him since the accident. He paused, swaying unsteadily on his feet. He fished in one of his many vest pockets and pulled out a flask, taking a long swig from it. He wiped his mouth and stumbled toward the fire, plopping himself down as he took another drink. He looked over at Caleb like he might say something, but then didn’t, turning to Maddie and giving her a full-on crazy-person smile instead.
She flinched and pulled back. She hadn’t realized just how messed up he was. His mouth gaped open like his jaw had come unhinged. His hair stood up in frazzled needles all around his head. His face was splotchy, his eyes puffy pink orbs of bloodshot veins.
He took another swig from his flask and let out a belch. How had he gotten so drunk?
She opened her mouth to ask if he was all right, but Mark’s attention had moved on from her. She turned and looked over her shoulder, following his drunken gaze. The rest of the adults were standing and talking in front of the coolers, each drinking a beer. Uncle Ed had his arm around her aunt’s shoulders as he told a story. His free hand swept through the air, big and brash, his beer bottle pointing as he spoke. He got to the punchline and everyone started laughing. Julie, especially, tittered into her beer. Uncle Ed pulled her in close and gave her a great smacking kiss on the forehead.
Maddie turned as Mark harrumphed loudly. The adults had heard it, too.
“Is that Mark?” Ed called out. “I see you decided to slink out of your tent.”
Ed walked over and joined the close circle of the campfire. Maddie felt an uncomfortable prickle at the back of her neck. Everyone’s attention had turned to her uncle. Even Bryan had sat up to watch his father.
“Don’t shoot!” Ed threw up his arms in jest.
Mark mumbled a reply that no one could understand.
“What’s that?” Ed shot back. Maddie noticed the danger in his half-drunk eyes.
Mark pulled himself up and focused on Ed’s face. He spoke slowly and deliberately, this time managing to enunciate through his liquor-thick tongue.
“Go. To. Hell.”
Her uncle’s beer bottle smashed in the flames. He moved around the fire faster than Maddie thought possible and hauled Mark up by the collar of his shirt.
“You want to say that again?”
Mark’s eyes narrowed. Everyone else stood back, frozen by how quickly things had turned.
“Screw you.” Mark’s words seethed with contempt. He ducked down and jerked out of Ed’s grip, pivoting to one side and swinging his arm around.
In his drunkenness, though, he moved in clumsy slow motion. His fist swung high and unsteadily. Maddie watched as her uncle easily ducked the attack. The punch’s momentum spun Mark around, and Ed pushed him hard, then pounced on him, arms pulled back, ready to sink his fists into Mark’s soft belly flesh. But before Ed could land a punch, a shout interrupted him.
“Hey!” Caleb finally broke his silence. Everyone’s attention snapped back to the fire where he stood, still holding his knife. Its blade glinted threateningly in the orange light. “How about we relax a bit? It’s been a tough day for all of us. Let’s not get crazy.”
Maddie looked around the circle. The commotion had pulled everyone in. Dylan looked worriedly at her dad, laid out on the ground, while Bryan gave his dad a look of pure embarrassment. Julie shot them both murderous glares.
Ed, getting the hint, got off Mark. A few seconds later, Mark pulled himself to a sitting position, looking just as drunk but unhurt.
“That’s better,” Caleb said. “Now how about we all sit down and enjoy the night. I know a good scary story, if anyone wants to hear it.”
Everyone nodded slowly, still uncomfortable, and moved to take seats around the fire.
“But I’m warning you,” Caleb went on, a wicked glint in his eye, nothing playful about it, “what I’m about to tell you isn’t a story like the other ones. It’s something that actually happened to me.”
Caleb didn’t know what he was looking at.
Well, that wasn’t actually true. He knew exactly what the man had thrown at his feet, but his mind refused to process it, refused to translate the monstrosity into words.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
The thing stared up at Caleb with black, lifeless eyes, its snout open, its jaw cracked and crooked.
Beautiful?
No.
But Caleb could think of plenty better ways to describe it.
Foul.
Gruesome.
Sad.
A waste.
“It’s sick,” a second man jumped
in. “It’s gonna look so good on your wall.”
The second man reached over and bumped fists with the first. Caleb tried to keep from rolling his eyes. He reminded himself that he really needed the money.
He hated playing chauffeur to yuppies. They had no respect for the wilderness—or experience in it—with their shiny L.L. Bean gear that they’d clearly just taken the price tags off of. Brash and idiotic, they crashed through the woods like they owned it.
No, worse. Like it owed them something.
Caleb took one last look at the severed head on the ground and grimaced.
Hunting was one thing, but this—it left a bad taste in his mouth. They’d hacked away at the deer, leaving jagged flaps of skin and tissue where the neck should have connected to the body. Blood had also gotten into the fur and stained it.
The antlers were the saddest part, though. Caleb held out his hands and tried to estimate their length. Each had to measure at least a foot. The buck had lived a long life—until today. Caleb’s hands balled into fists and he quickly stuffed them into his pockets.
A fly buzzed by and landed on the deer head. A second joined it.
“You’ll want to get that on ice,” Caleb spoke matter-of-factly. And then he turned away. He couldn’t look at it anymore.
Behind him, the men scrambled into action. They didn’t want their hard work going to waste. Jared—the first man, the one who’d actually killed the deer—bent and grabbed the buck by the antlers, dragging the severed head the rest of the way into their small camp. Meanwhile, Keith rushed to empty their cooler, throwing two six-packs of beer out on the ground.
“I don’t think it’s going to fit,” Keith said, presenting the empty cooler to Jared.
“We can take the antlers off.”
“But won’t that ruin it?”
“Nah, that’s why they have superglue,” Jared assured his friend as he pulled out a pocketknife. He flipped it open to a saw blade and set to work.
Sweat started to drip down Jared’s forehead. His arm looked like it was getting tired, but he still had a grin on his face, the adrenaline of the kill pumping through his blood. Caleb wished he could rewind the morning and wipe that grin off Jared’s face. It was their last day in the mountains, and after a weekend of nothing, the wannabe hunter had finally gotten lucky. They’d been up in that tree stand for hours, sitting in silence, waiting patiently. Caleb had thought they’d come up empty-handed, and had been happy about it.