Slipped

by Ira Robinson

  "The dogs. I heard the dogs barking."

  "Let me check." Noah picked up the radio and clicked the button on the side. “Bart? Noah here."

  A few seconds later, a voice cut through the soft static hum. "What's up, Noah?"

  "Any news yet?"

  A few seconds more passed before Bart said, "No, nothing yet."

  Noah glanced at Liz. "If you heard the dogs, they might have just found a scent trail to follow. They can get loud sometimes."

  Liz sunk into her chair. "I was so sure..."

  He turned his body, leaning his side against the back of the chair. He reached out a hand and patted her knee softly. "We're not going to stop looking, Liz. It's just getting started."

  She sighed and smiled wanly. "I know."

  He turned back around to face the board, listening to the static on the radio.

  After a few minutes, Liz stood. She walked to the front door and opened it, staring into the afternoon light.

  So many cars lined the streets. She could not remember ever seeing so many parked along the road, and all of them were there for her and her little girl. She knew she should be comforted with that. She knew she should appreciate it, but, somehow, it all felt so empty.

  How long had she been gone? So many hours passed, and she was just one little girl lost in the forest. She had to be hungry. The last time she had any food was so long ago.

  Was she even...

  No, she demanded herself. You will not think that way. She's alive. She has to be.

  She had to hold out hope, because if she did not, who would? Who could hold on to her longer than her own mother could?

  The search groups, calling out their locations and their lack of spotting anything new, interrupted the static of the radio frequently. Each time, Noah would mark the map for where the groups had already been.

  By the time the afternoon started to fade into evening, a good amount of the map was already filled in. There were so many pins it looked to Liz like an acupuncturist den gone mad.

  When Bart came through the door, she looked at him hopefully, but she already knew the things on his mind were not going to be good for her or her little girl.

  "Liz," he said, taking off his hat as he came through the door, "there's been no sign yet, but we are not giving up."

  She nodded slightly, biting her lip as she did.

  "Noah, let's call them back for the moment. We need to change tack a little."

  "Right, boss."

  "What do you mean?" Liz asked as Noah began telling people to come back to her house. "What's going on?"

  "With the dark coming, we need to change the way we're doing things, or we're going to risk missing her." His brow furrowed. "We've been calling for her and with this many people going through the forest, she should have heard us and responded. I don't know how far she could have gotten by this point."

  "So what do we do?" Liz swiped her hand across her jeans, her nerves on edge.

  "We'll make a chain, everyone closer together, checking everything we can as we go. She might have holed up somewhere we've missed."

  The first group arrived fifteen minutes later, with the rest filing in one-by-one. Some grabbed cups of coffee and one of the first groups left in a truck.

  By the time the majority of the people who had come in the earlier hours had gathered once more, the truck came back again. The two men got out with bags and started giving out sandwiches to those circling around.

  She was grateful when one of them offered a sandwich to her, as well. It had come from the diner and smelled delicious.

  She did not open it to eat right away, though. With so many people around, she found she was too self-conscious.

  Instead, she watched as the people gathered got their new orders.

  "We're going to start from here and go in a straight line," Bart was saying to those assembled. "Everyone will have flashlights. We'll stay within easy talking distance of each other, so we won't miss anything."

  "What about the dogs?" one of the women asked.

  "We'll let John and his boys go where the dogs lead, but we're doing this because they might not get the right scent." He glanced around at each of them he could see. "They're not trained for this kind of thing, and I know neither are you. But we are determined," he let his eyes rest on Liz, "and we're going to find her."

  They waited until most of the people were able to eat before going back through the door. Noah remained behind again, as well as Sally Labeau, one of the older women in the group.

  Liz did not know her well, but she came into the bakery sometimes and always seemed nice enough.

  "I don't think anyone wants me traipsing out in the woods in the dark," she said to Liz as the last of the group piled into the woods. "I'm afraid I'd not be much good if I ended up hurting myself."

  Liz nodded, distracted by the sound of the people on the radio. They were making a long line through the woods and beginning to move forward, hoping to spot any sign with the slower, careful passage among the trees.

  Sally was picking up the debris and trash left over from the feeding of the search party, cramming the paper wrappers in trash bags, as well as the Styrofoam cups from the coffee. When Liz tried to assist, the older woman shooed her away, her long gray and brown hair shaking. "No, dear, you just sit. I'll take care of this."

  "That's all I have been doing, though," Liz said, one hand on her hip. "I think if I don't do something, I'm going to go a little crazy here."

  Sally stood still, watching Liz for a moment, before handing the trash bag to her. "I understand. I'd probably do the same."

  Liz had to go outside to finish picking up what was left, while Sally set up a new batch of coffee to be made in the large percolator. It took some time to clean up after the more than three dozen people in all who showed up to help find her girl.

  She kept her ear on the radio, though, hoping to hear the sound of rejoicing, the heady noise of victory. Only the sound of more of the same came through.

  She finally ate some of the burger given to her, but by the time she did, it was cold, old and greasy and her stomach ached more after finishing it than it did from being hungry. Twenty minutes later, it was a rock inside, pressing into her guts with a vengeance.

  She hoped it was from the stress of the day and the lack of any food since the morning.

  She sat in her chair, watching Noah as he, in turn, watched the radio. She wanted to ask him how it was going. She wanted to demand from him that something had to be done, that, somehow, what was happening was far from enough.

  She wanted to rail at the sky above, at God for putting her little girl in this position.

  But Noah did not deserve that, and neither did God.

  If anyone, she was to blame. She knew it in her heart, as sure as she knew Cassie was still out there, somewhere, just waiting to be found.

  She closed her eyes, the pressure of the sandwich in her stomach making her uncomfortable. She tried to find a position where it would stop aching and when she finally did, she kept herself as still as she could so it would not start back up again.

  Her heart ached even more than her stomach, though, and there was no getting away from it.

  She had been so cruel. If only she had kept her temper, not said anything to Cassie about what she had done...

  If only she had been more patient with her and understood she was just a little girl with nothing much to do, cooped up in a small office all day...

  If only.

  But that is not what happened, and both she and Cassie had to live with the consequences.

  She had to sit there while others were looking for her flesh and blood, leaving poor Cassie scared and alone.

  Liz put her arm behind her head and rested against it, feeling the soft fabric of the chair rub against her skin. It was comfortable and familiar, a place she felt at peace after her long, hard days at the bakery.

  A spot of solace against the harshness the world could be.

  Bef
ore she was aware of it happening, she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

  The trees were dark. She could barely tell where one ended and another began, with the thick vines spreading around everywhere.

  The undergrowth was dense not just from the vines, but tangles of thorns, as well, jutting from the bushes and grasses.

  She lay prone against the cold ground, the scent of earth cloying, grabbing her senses and not letting go. It was not, however, fresh earth. This contained darkness, festering and rotting. It was a place death rested its own head.

  She tried to get up, but something overpowered her movements, forcing her to stay in place. Though she started to struggle, the power of whatever held her down was more powerful than she could manage, and she was able only to move her head from side to side.

  Where am I? she thought and realized the sound was made aloud

  "Where am I?" she asked again, the sound of it echoing around her, bouncing from bush to bush, tree to tree.

  There was no response. Only the sound of her voice, vibrating against the ground, stirring up dust to come up into her nostrils.

  As it did, it choked her, gagged her, grinding its way into her throat, each particle clawing through painfully.

  She coughed a few times, trying to clear it away, but it refused to get out, making its way into the center of her chest. The sensation faded, but whatever force pinned her to the ground still locked her in place, constricting her arms, legs, and belly. She twisted her hands, hoping to feel something there she could grab on, so she could force it away.

  As she moved her hand, though, she felt nothing there.

  A new sensation started in the center of her chest, tingling at first, but within a moment turning into pain.

  She gnashed her teeth against it, trying to gasp for air, but the ache grew stronger until it was all she could think about.

  Just as swift as it began, the pain ended and she cried out. The force holding her down released and she rolled onto her back, staring into the darkened tree branches above.

  A moan escaped her lips, making the ground vibrate softly in response.

  She closed her eyes, letting her body recover from everything that happened, before reopening them again. She sat up slowly as she did so.

  This time, the area around her did not seem as dark as it had before. A soft light, dim to be sure but growing stronger by the passage of moments, spread from the ground itself up into the trees.

  She put her hands on the ground and tried to stand, but her body felt too weak to manage it. All she could do was breathe, still gasping for each breath that came.

  The light around her grew stronger, turning from an ambiance to an intense glow, green and white, a horrible, putrid color.

  The ground seemed to crack, shafts of the light breaking through the surface, shooting past her head into the trees above. A rush of wind picked up, tossing her hair into her face and across her shoulders.

  The cracks continued until she could see the outline of a figure, a human form on the dirt. It was less than half her size and lay on its back.

  She squinted her eyes, trying to dim the light so she could get more detail and, as she did, she saw the face of her little girl, laying on the ground, created from the shafts of light.

  Her eyes closed and as Liz gasped not just for air but also out of surprise, she watched as Cassie's eyes opened slightly.

  Her mouth opened. "Mommy?"

  "Cassie!" Liz shouted as she sat bolt upright in the chair. Her eyes unlocked, the light from the room piercing through into her sleep-filled pupils, as her hands reached out before her.

  She saw Noah jump to his feet, whirling around with his hand to his hip, automatically reaching for the revolver sitting there.

  Liz felt herself bite her lip as she let her fingers relax, the remnants of the dream fading from her mind.

  Once Noah realized what was happening, he relaxed his stance, easing himself back down into the chair slowly.

  Liz looked around, noticing the evening light she fell asleep to was now totally gone, leaving only darkness outside. The curtain around the window was still away from the glass.

  "What time is it?" The large corkboard blocked the wall clock she kept across from her.

  "2:30," Noah answered, his own voice exhausted.

  "Why didn't you wake me?" she asked, sitting up straight. She pressed some of the wrinkles from her shirt. "What's going on? What's happening with Cassie?"

  "There's been nothing new," he answered, then glanced to where Sally sat in the kitchen, waiting at the table. "We thought you could use the rest."

  At first, Liz fumed, her anger at them letting her sleep nearly finding a voice. But after a moment, she realized they were probably right. She hated it, but she did need to sleep at some point.

  Still, it grated her that she missed anything that was happening, tired or no. It was yet another thing out of her control in the situation.

  Was that what her dream was trying to portray? She was out of any sort of control when it came to finding Cassie? The unknown force, the whatever-it-was that kept her pinned to the ground, was that her own sense of being out of her depth with it all?

  The dream had seemed so real to her. Even now, with it faded into nothing more than a memory, the sense of urgency and weight the dream created had power and seeing Cassie as she was, stuck in the ground in that endless light, was horrifying.

  "Ok, Noah, we're coming in," she heard over the radio, the crackle of Bart's voice echoing gently across the walls.

  "Kay, boss," Noah replied, cueing the mic.

  "Have one of the cars ready to go, we've got someone injured."

  "Want me to call the doc and have him meet us here?" Liz caught the immediacy in his tone.

  "No, we'll take him." Bart's voice seemed strained. "Just have it set."

  Noah stood and stretched, letting the kinks come away from sitting so long in the same spot. Liz stood, as well.

  "What's going on? They're stopping the search? What about Cassie?"

  "I don't know, Liz," he said, as his hand dived into his pocket. He pulled out his set of keys and started toward the door. "I'll be right back."

  He opened the door before she could say more, but she followed him to the front steps, letting the cold air wash over her skin. Goosebumps shot across her body, but she paid them no attention. She wanted Noah to come back and answer her, but he was already at the police car he drove in, opening the door.

  She heard the car start and then rev up before he got out and came back to the house.

  Liz felt Sally behind her, and she turned to face the older woman. "What are they doing? They can't just stop, can they?"

  Sally reached out her hand to touch her shoulder, but Liz backed away, angry. "They've got to keep looking! My little girl is out there all alone!"

  "Liz, it's okay. We'll see what Bart has on his mind when he gets here." Sally was unperturbed by Liz's attitude. "Have patience, dear."

  "Easy for you to say," Liz spat out. "Your child isn't out there." She glared, but she regretted it as soon as she said it.

  Sally did not deserve to be the target of her anger, but she had to let it out somewhere, and though she felt bad about the words, she did not apologize.

  She turned, instead, to the door and walked away, rounding the corner of the house in only a few steps, determined to meet the Sheriff when he arrived.

  She leaned against the back of the house, her arms folded before her, waiting. A few minutes later, slightly shivering in the cold, she saw Noah come around the house, as well. He paced toward the woods, staring out into the darkness.

  She squinted, noticing small bits of movement among the trees in the distance. Though the sky was cloudy and the moon was not out, she could see sparks of light trailing around.

  As they came closer, they brightened, and she started to hear the sounds of voices, some of them calling out Cassie's name, while others were just murmurs caught in the wind.

  Noah
clicked his own flashlight on, calling out to Bart that they were there, helping him find his way.

  Out of the trees, she saw people approach, breaking from the shadows, each one with faces tired and haggard from the long, tenuous walk.

  She saw the tall figure of the sheriff approach, as well, helping a man held between himself and a woman. The man's leg was bent up at the knee, and he more stumbled than walked. The other two were holding his weight up.