The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek

by Rhett McLaughlin

  Alicia.

  She stopped mere feet away, the soft glow surrounding her and her jumpsuit only accentuating her awesomeness, like some otherworldly version of Glamour Shots.

  “Alicia!” Leif said. He’d never been happier to see someone. He wished he could hug her, but physical contact didn’t seem possible, so he just smiled as big as he could as she came closer.

  Alicia seemed perplexed, her eyebrows furrowed like she was trying to solve a riddle.

  Leif was seized with panic. Did she not recognize him?

  “It’s me…” he said, hoping she would interrupt before he had to tell her his name. She didn’t. “Leif.”

  She stared at him a few more moments—it felt like an eternity—before a twinkle of recognition finally registered in her eyes. “Leif!” she shouted.

  “Yes!” he said, feeling profound relief. “I can’t believe you’re alive! This is— We all thought you were dead, and it was…I just…I missed you.” He felt his face contort into a cry, though he couldn’t feel any tears falling.

  Alicia smiled, a bit more uncomfortably than Leif would have liked, before turning to Josefina. “Have we met too?”

  “Yeah. It’s J. Josefina. From Whitewood.”

  “Right,” Alicia said, in a way that made it clear she still had no idea who J was. “I’m sorry,” she said, frustrated. “My life before here is just…cloudy.”

  Leif was very freaked out. “It’s only been a week,” he said, desperate to further jog her memory. “Remember? It was summer…We were making PolterDog…”

  “Polter…Dog?” Alicia said. She might as well have driven a dagger through Leif’s heart.

  “You shouldn’t do that,” Rich said, suddenly appearing next to them with Timothy.

  “Do what?” Leif asked.

  “Ask any of us about our life up there. It begins to fade quickly, and it can be difficult, even painful, to try to remember.”

  Leif looked at Alicia, who seemed very confused. He’d heard what Rich said, but he couldn’t help himself. “Do you remember Rex? Our other best friend?”

  Alicia looked down at her hands, as if maybe she’d scrawled the answer there in pen.

  “Tall guy?” Leif prodded. “Hilarious and great? Likes to boss people around?”

  “I don’t know,” Alicia said, putting her hands on her head. “I don’t know!”

  “I told you not to do that, man!” Rich said.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Seeing Alicia this distressed made Leif want to implode. To make things worse, he realized that even if he finally got up the nerve to tell her how he felt, it would mean absolutely nothing to her.

  “It’s okay,” Rich said. “Just…don’t do it again. You’ll understand soon enough. Especially after He…visits you.”

  “Who’s He?” Josefina asked. “Who are you talking about?”

  Before he could answer, the buzzing shriek came back, louder and more intense than before, and the shadowy presence began to pinball among them. Leif was disturbed to see a little blond girl by the shadow’s side, moving in tandem everywhere that it went.

  Suddenly Rich, Timothy, and Alicia were screaming in agony, enveloped by wisps and tangles of the dark shadow, the little girl giggling as their bodies seemed to be stretched out like Silly Putty.

  “Oh my god,” Josefina said, as she and Leif watched in horror.

  The little girl appeared inches from Leif’s face. “Nice to meet you,” she said, laughing. “Now the Keeper only needs one more!”

  “One more what?” Leif asked, but the girl didn’t answer.

  Instead, he was enveloped by the shadow.

  Then there was only pain. Unfathomable pain.

  His limbs felt like they were being ripped away at the joint, his ligaments stretching beyond any natural limit, his bones bending past the breaking point.

  It was unbearable.

  And endless.

  As Rich had said, time was irrelevant here.

  Finally, and without warning, the shadow was gone.

  Leif felt like a deflated balloon, as if the dark figure had fed on him. Josefina floated nearby, clearly having also been through it.

  Leif’s mind was a blur. He thought back to the time before. It seemed so distant. He remembered that he’d been at the Whitewood School. But for how long?

  He had no idea.

  Rich floated up next to him.

  “You’ll get used to it,” he said. “Everyone does.”

  24

  “NOW, REMEMBER,” BEN said, standing next to the chain-link fence in the curly wig, the red sunglasses, and Rex’s oversized black T-shirt, illuminated by Janine’s camera light as she filmed. “If we stick to the plan, we should be able to get in and out within twenty minutes or so.”

  Oh, sure, Rex thought. We’re only dealing with an angry spirit that stores humans and feeds on their souls. What could possibly go wrong? Even as he knew this plan represented their best (and probably only) option, he also knew there was a high likelihood that by the time this night was done, he and Ben would both be students at the Whitewood School. Or worse.

  The risk was worth it, though, if it meant they might save Alicia. And Leif.

  And maybe even bring down Wayne Whitewood and his twisted school, once and for all.

  Ben looked at each of them gathered in the dark by the old tobacco barn—Rex, Janine, Donna, and Travis—doing a silent count, as if they were a much larger group of people. “Your lookout person is still coming, right?” he asked.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Rex said. “He’ll definitely be here.” If Hornhat no-showed, Rex would never speak to him again.

  “With the scuba gear too? That’s essential so we can stay underwater as long as we need to.”

  “I know,” Rex said, trying not to get annoyed by Ben’s patronizing tone. “Don’t worry, he’s bringing it.” Hornhat had been all too eager to offer up the equipment his family took every summer to their three-story beach house.

  “He’s bringing scuba gear?” Janine asked. “How is he getting here?”

  “He said he had his own ride,” Rex said, realizing how bizarre it would be if Hornhat’s parents dropped him off at a cow pasture late at night on a Monday. “But—”

  All heads turned as a small, almost silent vehicle pulled up right next to them.

  “Hey, dudes!” Hornhat said, waving as he came to a stop. “Say hello to the Horn-cart.”

  Of course the Hornhats had a golf cart. And of course they named it the Horn-cart.

  “This baby’s top of the line,” Hornhat continued, running his hand down the candy apple red exterior as Janine shined her camera light on him and Travis nodded appreciatively. “ ’Ninety-one model, built-in stereo. My dad even put in a subwoofer.”

  “Uh. Okay,” Rex said. He hoped his choice of Hornhat for lookout wouldn’t get them all killed.

  “Sorry I’m late, by the way,” Hornhat said. “Thought there would be clearer signage.” He stepped out of the cart, guilelessly introducing himself one by one—“Mark Hornhat, nice to meetcha”—to Janine, Travis, Ben, and Donna, who seemed particularly appalled.

  “Do you have the scuba gear?” Ben asked.

  “Oh, do I ever,” Hornhat said. He walked to the back of his cart, where, strapped in next to a bag of golf clubs, were two diving tanks, along with masks, fins, and breathing regulators. “Are y’all gearing up here?”

  “Yes,” Ben answered. “Best to get fully prepped here to minimize our time at the spring.”

  “Rad,” Hornhat said as he went to work, strapping the tanks over Rex’s and Ben’s backs and explaining how everything worked, Janine filming the whole time.

  “I gotta say,” Travis said, wearing a black tank-top that, along with his utility belt, brought out the Redneck Batman even more than usu
al. “I’m still in shock about what you said Mr. Whitewood’s been doin’ with these kids. I mean, dang, you think you know somebody…”

  “Yeah, well, thanks for being here,” Rex said, sitting on the back of the cart as Hornhat helped slide fins onto his feet. “I know that if we succeed tonight, you’ll be out of a job.”

  “Aw, that’s no problem,” Travis said, fiddling with some of the keys on his belt. “I got some stuff to fall back on.”

  “All set, amigos,” Hornhat said.

  Rex stood up from the cart, the weight of the tank on his back making all of this feel more real. They were actually going through with it. He and Ben looked at each other in all their equipment, almost as if they were peering into a mirror. “This is good,” Ben said, his mask hanging off his neck. “Nice work, Mark.”

  Hornhat gave a salute.

  “It’s almost go-time. Let’s grab the blood.” Ben led Rex back toward the fence, where they’d dropped their blood bags, the collection of which had been an ordeal unto itself.

  The body of Rex’s eighty-two-year-old barber, Harold, was at his parents’ funeral home, waiting to be embalmed the following day. Rex had seen his father drain blood from deceased people dozens of times, but he’d never tried it himself. With Ben’s surprisingly enthusiastic help, they’d drained the old man, an awkward and messy affair consisting of over two hours of poking tubes into a dead naked guy who used to hum along to Johnny Cash as he cut Rex’s hair. When all was said and done, they’d collected less than a gallon of blood. “I thought there’d be more,” Rex had said, right before scrawling a note for his dad (Drained him already. Hope that’s helpful!) and placing it on Harold’s belly. Ben had then suggested they supplement by getting pig’s blood from Riley’s hog farm, which sold pork directly to the public. It’d taken about ten minutes. And they’d gotten a lot.

  “I have an idea,” Ben now said after picking up the bag of Harold’s blood. “Let’s cover ourselves with this.”

  “What?” Rex asked. “Why?”

  “Because we know human blood will open up the gateway. Pig’s blood isn’t a sure thing.”

  “No, I mean why are we covering ourselves with blood at all?”

  “Oh,” Ben said. “Because once we get down to the spring, we don’t know what’s gonna happen. We might drop our blood bags. We might be short on time. Lots of variables. But this way, we can take control of the situation and guarantee we have at least—”

  “Yeah, yeah, okay, fine,” Rex said.

  They took turns dipping their hands into the bag and rubbing layer upon layer of barber’s blood all over their clothes. The rotten metallic smell was absolutely heinous. They each stopped at least four times to dry heave.

  Without saying a thing, Ben took a blood-dipped finger and decorated his face like he was preparing for war. Rex had no desire to follow suit, but he didn’t want to seem like he wasn’t committed. Holding his breath, he put two random lines of blood on his face.

  “This is really disgusting and I don’t want to keep filming,” Janine said. “But I will, because I’m dedicated to my craft.”

  “I hate this so much,” Donna said, covering her nose with her sweatshirt.

  Hornhat reached into the bag without asking and streaked blood on his face, too.

  “Y’all are nuts,” Travis said, smiling.

  “Okay,” Ben said, knotting the rope around his waist. “To recap, once we get to the spring, Rex and I will jump in, poke holes in our pig’s blood bags, and start digging out Alicia. Janine will film. Donna and Travis will have the other end of this rope, and once we get Alicia out of the wall, we’ll loop the rope around her and give it three tugs. That’ll be the signal to start pulling the three of us back to land.”

  Travis and Donna nodded.

  “Mark, you’ll hang back in the woods as lookout. If you see anyone—and I mean anyone—heading toward us at the spring, give us a signal. Can you do a good owl hoot?”

  “Definitely.” Hornhat made an unsettling noise that reminded Rex of his late Grandpa Mack’s smoker’s cough.

  “Yeah, no,” Ben said. “If you see someone coming, just shout at us.”

  “Got it.”

  “Anyone have any last questions?” Ben asked.

  Why is my heart beating so damn hard? Rex wanted to ask.

  “Good luck out there, you guys,” Janine said from behind her camera.

  “Let’s save Alicia,” Donna said. “And take down those assholes who killed my dad.”

  Janine had never heard Donna talk about her father’s death, let alone refer to it as a murder, and she found it oddly moving. “We’re going to,” she said.

  They crossed through the gap in the chain-link fence one by one. Rex’s right scuba fin momentarily got stuck as he went through, and of course he couldn’t help but think of Leif. It reminded him that he was exactly where he needed to be, doing exactly what he needed to do. And also that it was very challenging to walk in scuba fins. They probably could have waited to put these on.

  “Wonder if Mr. Whitewood knows there’s this big ol’ gap in his fence,” Travis said as he passed through last.

  That was the last thing any of them said, as once they’d all made it to the other side, Ben held a commanding finger to his lips. Rex’s heart continued to pound as they moved through what was now familiar territory: the woods, the two-trunked tree with a view of the spring, the thirty or so exposed steps down toward the water. A sense of calm settled upon him as the group approached the water’s edge; with his hammer in one hand and bag of pig’s blood in the other, Rex was ready to do whatever it would take to save Alicia from this cursed spring.

  That calm only lasted a few seconds, though, as a row of torches suddenly lit up in front of them.

  25

  “WELCOME BACK,” WHITEWOOD said from the far side of the spring, dressed in his light blue robe with the white stole over the shoulders, the rest of the cult fanned out behind him with torches. “Nice to see you again, Candidatus.”

  Rex didn’t know what that meant, but he did know their plan had fallen apart before they’d even started. Somehow they’d timed their rescue incredibly poorly, choosing the same night as this ritual, which looked to be particularly horrifying. Just beyond the cult—on the lawn between the school and the spring—about twenty or so students were lined up, hands tied behind their backs, ankles bound. Rex did a quick scan for Leif but didn’t see him.

  He wondered if he and his squad might be able to run back to the hole in the fence. But as he turned his head toward the woods, he saw that four more robed cult members had emerged from the tree line.

  There was no escape.

  Had Whitewood known they were coming?

  “I’d like to extend a special thanks to my Employee of the Month, Travis Bethune,” Whitewood said, “for letting us know about this little mission and making all of this possible.”

  Rex felt woozy. He should have known dim bulb Travis would accidentally reveal their secret.

  “I’m sorry, guys,” Travis said. “But what Mr. Whitewood is doin’ here is real important. It’s what our town needs. I can’t let y’all mess it up.”

  “Wait,” Rex said, trying to keep up, “you’re a part of this…thing?”

  “Yeah, man,” Travis said, growing excited. “I been wantin’ to tell ya, it’s good that Alicia’s in the spring! She’s gonna be one of the Seven Shepherds. And one of y’all might be too!”

  “That’s exactly right, Travis,” Whitewood said, spreading his arms dramatically, his robe billowing around him. “Tonight is our last night to offer one final Lost Cause to the One Below!”

  “The Seven Shepherds shall rise!” shouted Leggett Shackelford, standing next to Whitewood.

  “The Seven Shepherds shall rise!” the cult repeated.

  Rex still had no idea what
the hell they were talking about, but he was fairly certain he had no interest in being one of their weird shepherds. And that Alicia wouldn’t either.

  Apparently Ben felt the same way, because he was already awkwardly bolting toward the spring in his flippers.

  “Come on!” he shouted.

  Rex started to run after him, hammer and bag of pig’s blood in hand, but the fins made it challenging. After only a few steps, Travis grabbed him by the shoulders.

  “No!” Whitewood yelled. “Let them go! If they want to offer themselves to the One Below, don’t stand in their way!”

  Travis did as he was told. Though Rex wasn’t exactly encouraged by the idea that he and Ben were making an offering of themselves, he knew if they had a chance to save Alicia, they had to take it.

  He followed Ben into the spring, watching as he pulled his mask down.

  “We won’t have any pullers!” Rex realized.

  “We’ll figure it out!” Ben said, putting the regulator in his mouth and diving under.

  Rex did the same, submerging his blood-covered body and watching as a pale blue glow spread all around him, bubbles percolating on the surface above. Using the back of his hammer, he tore a hole in his bag of pig’s blood, then watched the red fluid commingle with the bright blue of the water, breaking down into smaller strands as it dissipated throughout the spring. It was oddly beautiful.

  Seconds later, the water got so bright it almost hurt Rex’s eyes, with bubbles so large and violent, they were actually creating waves. He tried to swim forward, but the entire spring had become a churning, roiling cauldron.

  And that wasn’t all.

  Rex felt the spirit.

  It was watching him, as it had that first time.

  Rex tried to ignore it, to focus on getting to Alicia, but that became impossible as he felt the dark presence completely envelop him.

  He began thrashing his limbs in the water, as if he could somehow fling it off, like it was a bee.

  His efforts were unsuccessful.

  How could he have been so stupid? Whatever this “One Below” was, he and Ben had willingly walked into its lair. Once it took them, not only would they not save Alicia, but they would also need someone to come save them.