by P. T. Hylton
The book showed him how to survive here. It instructed him in uncannily specific terms on how to find water and food. And it was the book that finally convinced him that he would never leave this place. That his mission in coming here would fail. Instead of saving his family back in Rook Mountain, he had abandoned them.
And, years later, it was the book that had helped him realize there may be a way home after all, but that it would be a very long road indeed.
Eventually, the book had taught him how to bring objects from elsewhere into Sanctuary. Pages of the book could transform into windows to the world. When he saw something he wanted, he could grab it and bring it through, like a kid pulling a toy out of a toy box. At first, it had been only small things. A little food here. An item of clothing there. But as more of the book was revealed to him, he found the size of the object didn’t matter. He felt like Luke Skywalker struggling to raise his X-Wing ship out of the bog in Empire Strikes Back the first time he brought something large through, but he slowly got the hang of it. He found he could bring through anything from a can of soup to the house he was sitting in right now. And eventually, he’d learned he could bring people.
In his weakest moments, he’d considered trying to bring Trevor and Christine to Sanctuary, but he knew subjecting his family to that wasn’t love; it was sickness.
And then the book began to reveal people asking for help in their moment of most extreme need. Asking for sanctuary. So he had started helping them.
Every person here represented a life Jake had saved. He’d pulled each of them through the book and granted new life. Every person but one, the most recent addition. Sophie.
Jake couldn’t think about that now. He had spent most of the last few days worrying over that. Worrying came natural to him and he had to consciously fight it lest it overtake him.
He picked up the piece of legal paper off his desk, opened the book, and began tracing a window on the page with his index finger.
3. Sanctuary
A week later, Frasier said Sophie was ready. He handed her a knife and told her to hook it on her belt. It was the knife she’d been practicing with all week, a week where she’d learned more about knives than she had ever wanted to.
It was a six-inch fixed blade knife made of tempered steel with a coating of hard chrome.
“It’s the same model the Navy Seals use,” Frasier had proudly told her.
Sophie took the knife and looked at it sadly. “Not sure why I’m taking this. I’m just as likely to stab one of my team as I am anything else.”
“Well, if you do have to stab someone, make sure it’s not Logan. She’s irritable enough already.”
She’d grown fond of Frasier and his dry sense of humor, and she thought he enjoyed her company too, though he’d never say it. He had been a hard nut to crack, but she felt like she’d finally managed it.
Frasier put a hand on her shoulder. “Relax. You won’t see anything. It’s the middle of the night. The Larvae are in their deepest sleep now.”
Sophie nodded. The way she understood it, their mission was simple: walk the trail. There were dozens of trails through the woods that Sanctuary crews maintained, but tonight Sophie and her team would be walking the biggest and most highly traveled of them. It seemed stupid to her, but Frasier claimed it was the most important job in Sanctuary.
“These woods are hungry,” he told her. “If we don’t walk the trails for a few days, they disappear.”
“You mean they get grown over?”
He shook his head. “They disappear. They’re not there anymore. It’s like they never were. Like I said, these woods are hungry.”
He’d explained it to Sophie a dozen times over the last week. According to Frasier, the purpose of the Sanctuary was to keep the woods at bay. The reason it existed was so it could keep existing. It seemed like circular logic to Sophie. Frasier insisted it was important. If they weren’t vigilant, the forest would envelop them. It would swallow them whole.
“The forest’s always shifting, always moving. It’s changing every moment. The trees you see tonight through your window won’t be there tomorrow when you look out. The forest changes its strategy and shifts its angle of attack. The only constant is the trails. And they only remain if we force them to. We keep them nailed down by walking them each and every day.”
When he saw the skeptical look on her face, he said, “Well, maybe it’ll be easier to understand once you’ve walked a few trails yourself.”
Now she was preparing to do just that. A group of three was gathered in front of The Welcome Wagon. All of them wore headlamps like she’d seen Baldwin and Leonard wear that first night. She strapped on her own headlamp and walked over to them.
She recognized two of the group: Baldwin and Logan.
She was happy to see a couple of familiar faces, and at the same time angry she had to work with two of the people who’d hazed her. Baldwin gave her a sheepish nod, perhaps feeling her out to see if she’d punch him on sight. She returned the nod, squinting in a manner she hoped looked cold and angry. In truth, she was mostly glad she would soon be talking to someone other than Frasier. As much as he’d grown on her, it would be great to meet other folks.
But she had to be careful not to form any attachments. She didn’t intend to stay at the Sanctuary long. Once she got the lay of the land and figured out how to escape, she’d grab Taylor and bring him to justice. One way or another.
Logan had yet to acknowledge her existence, and that was fine with Sophie. She had nothing to say to the woman.
The group stood in the light of The Welcome Wagon’s porch, and Sophie introduced herself to the other member of the group, a man named Carver. He couldn’t have been more than twenty. He had a buzz cut and wore a tank top that displayed his well-defined arms. He gave Sophie a look that was a bit more than friendly. There it was again, the way she attracted younger men. Not that Carver was too young, necessarily. She had to admit he was pretty cute.
She cast a wary eye toward Logan. The woman was probably in her early forties. She, too, wore a tank top and, while her arms didn’t quite compare with Carver’s, they were certainly impressive. Sophie made a mental note to ask about the workout regime here. The 30 Day Sanctuary Shred?
After the introductions were over, Logan cleared her throat. When she spoke, it was all business. “Listen up, Sophie. I’m lead on this walk, so that means once we cross the tree line, my word’s law. Understood?”
Sophie nodded.
“Good. You have one job and one job only tonight. Watch and listen. That’s it. This is the safest walk we have. This is the most populated trail and the Larvae are deep in their sleep cycle now. However, that doesn’t mean we’re gonna screw around. Things have gone south on this walk before. Not often, but the forest occasionally throws us curve balls. Any questions?”
Sophie shook her head. The Larvae. Frasier had told her about them, too.
“Good. Keep your headlamp pointed at the trail. Keep your knife in its sheath unless I say to draw it. Most of all, watch and listen.” She looked around at the others. “Okay, let’s go. Fall in behind me.”
She turned and headed down the trail at a brisk pace. Baldwin went next. Sophie came behind him, and Carver went last.
“You excited?” Carver asked.
Sophie shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m excited to be getting out of that cabin. But I’ve been on hikes in the woods before.”
“Not like this.”
Baldwin and Logan were pulling ahead. Sophie couldn’t help but notice the way Carver was hanging back with her, sticking a bit closer than he probably needed to. “Geez,” she said. “They go fast, don’t they?”
Carver said, “It’s a ten-mile walk, sometimes more. Got to move fast if we want to get done while the Larvae are still in their deepest sleep.”
Sometimes more? Sophie thought.
A few minutes later, Baldwin dropped back and pointed his headlamp at a tree past the edge of the trail. “Hey
Sophie. You see that tree over there? That’s the one we found you next to.”
She shined her own light on the tree. “No. We were much deeper in the woods. That’s not it.”
“Oh, it’s the one alright. Didn’t Frasier tell you? The trees move here. After a while, you’ll be able to identify some of them. This one you can recognize by the tangled roots.”
Sophie stared at the roots. If this was the tree, then Rodgers’ compass was under there. The compass that pointed to her and, according to Rodgers, pointed to Taylor. She’d always be able to locate Taylor with that compass.
“One sec.” She stepped off the trail and bent down next to the tree.
“Whoa!” Carver yelled. “Sophie, get back here!”
She ignored him. With her light, she searched for an opening in the tangle of roots. She saw the spot and thrust her hand into it. She felt around, and her hand passed over dry pine needles and sticky clay earth, but not the compass.
“Sophie, what the hell?” Baldwin shouted.
She ignored him too. She leaned forward, sticking more of her arm into the gap until her shoulder touched the base of the roots. She felt cold metal and closed her hand around it.
Suddenly, she was yanked backwards. Her first insane thought was, Rodgers! She landed on her back on the trail, and she saw Logan standing over her. Logan lifted her foot and set it on Sophie’s throat.
“What in the name of holy God was that?”
Sophie struggled to speak with the boot on her throat. “I…Sorry…That’s the tree where…”
“Didn’t Frasier do his job? Didn’t he warn you to stay on the trail?”
“Yes! I’m sorry! I forgot!”
“Forgot?” Logan asked through clenched teeth. “There’s no forgetting. Forgetting is how people die. No one dies. Not on my team.”
“Logan,” Baldwin said, his voice almost a whisper. “Eyes on the tree.”
Logan spun, turning her light toward the tree. Sophie’s eyes followed the beam of light, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw it. A black round creature the size of a basketball was sluggishly squeezing out of the hole where her arm had been only moments ago.
Logan whirled toward Sophie. “On your feet. We’re all gonna back away slowly and head down the trail. It should go back in its burrow.”
Sophie eased herself to her feet, her eyes never leaving the creature at the end of Logan’s headlamp beam. She shuffled her feet with the others, heading down the trail as quickly as they dared.
She almost allowed herself to believe they were safe. Then, with no provocation that Sophie could see, the creature gave itself a violent shake.
“Shit!” Logan yelled. “Let’s move!”
The creature contracted to half its original size and launched into the air. It spun with a freakish speed. As it flew, the soft-looking fur on its body stood up into clumps that resembled spikes. It was heading toward Logan, but then it slowed in the air, made an impossible turn, and shot toward Carver.
Carver screamed as the Larva hit him in the upper arm. It struck him with a sickening thud. The creature gave another violent shake, burrowing deeper into Carver’s arm, and he screamed again.
Sophie was frozen with fear. She glanced around and saw the others had their knives out. Sophie clumsily pulled her own from its sheath.
She took a deep breath and reminded herself what Frasier had said. He’d told her exactly what to do in this scenario. The Larvae were, for all practical purposes, indestructible. They were bulletproof, which was why the teams of walkers didn’t carry guns. The only thing that could be damaged was their thick spike-like fur. Hence the knives.
“One of your buddies gets stuck by one of those bastards, you gotta cut through the spikes one by one. There will be dozens of them, and it’s not the easiest stuff to cut through. It’ll take ten, fifteen minutes of cutting, all while your buddy’s screaming and bleeding all over you. Your best bet’s to work as fast as you can and pray he doesn’t bleed out before you get the creature off him.”
Logan ran to Carver and went to work on the spikes. The Larva gave another shiver and pressed itself tighter against Carvers arm.
Carver grabbed at the thing, trying to pull it off his arm, but he only succeeded in impaling his hands on the spikes.
Logan grunted in frustration and kept cutting. “A little help?”
Blood seeped around the edges of where the Larva was attached to his arm.
Sophie realized she still had the compass in her left hand. All this because she’d wanted the stupid thing. If only she’d listened to the rules, Carver wouldn’t have a monster burrowing into him. She squeezed the compass as hard as she could, and she felt something click like a button had been pressed.
She opened her hand and saw the needle of the compass was pointing at Carver and the Larva. But somehow Sophie knew more specifically where it was pointing. It was like a needle in her mind was pointing too. Pointing at the spot she was supposed to…
She gripped her knife and took three quick steps forward.
“Start at the top, Sophie,” Logan said. “Cut as fast as you can.”
Sophie ignored her. The needle in her mind pointed to a specific spot on the Larva. It a small bulge on the bottom of the creature, almost invisible to her eye. Somehow she knew it was the closest thing the creature had to a head.
She pulled her knife back and then drove it upward with all her strength. She felt her blade sink into the creature and stick there. Then she felt her blade wiggle a little, and the Larva began to melt. Its black flesh ran down her blade. She pulled the blade away and took a step back.
The black sludge ran down Carver’s arm and chest. He stared at the disappearing creature, his mouth agape as the ooze ran down his legs and onto the ground. He grabbed his arm and fell to his knees.
“Carver,” Baldwin said. He sank to the ground next to his friend.
But Sophie barely noticed. The needle in her head was pointing somewhere else now. She spun and pointed her headlamp toward the tree. Another creature was squeezing out of the hole in the root structure. Sophie sprinted for it.
Now that she knew what to look for, she saw the head immediately. It was like an exposed wound.
The Larva was wiggling free of the last root when Sophie reached it. She drove the knife into it like a hammer, and the creature melted even faster than its brother had.
“My God,” Logan said. “You killed it. You killed two of them.”
But Sophie wasn’t listening. Her internal needle was pointing elsewhere now. It was pointing at the tree itself.
She circled around the back of the tree. She looked up and saw something carved there. Four little words.
Don’t trust them Sophie.
She froze, staring at the message that had been carved into the face of this tree for all time. A message apparently meant for her.
The bark around the words was bent outward, almost as if the words had been carved from the inside.
The words wouldn’t be visible from the trail. They were hers and hers alone.
Logan and Baldwin stared at her. They both wore troubled looks on their faces. But something else danced behind Logan’s eyes, something gleeful.
“How’d you do that?” Logan asked. “How’d you kill them?”
Sophie shook her head. “I don’t know. I just…saw where to stab them.”
Baldwin gritted his teeth. “You asshole. Carver’s hurt bad thanks to you. We need to get him back to the house now.”
4. Rook Mountain
Sean parked his squad car, complete with shiny new windshield, in the empty lot next to an old gnarly tree. He sat for a long moment looking at the building. It was a little sad. This place had been state-of-the-art a few years ago. Still was, really. But the new powers-that-be weren’t keen on using facilities that had so recently served as the headquarters, armory, and military hospital for an army of students fighting a war against bird monsters.
Understandable, Sean supp
osed. It seemed like a waste the way the facilities stood unused.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out the key, and unlocked the door. Technically, he was supposed to fill out a request form before checking out a key, but over the last eight years he’d learned sometimes it was easier to lie than to ask permission you knew would be denied.
The chief had been less than pleased after the incident at Sean’s home. Colt and his parents had been called in, and Colt had been questioned. The boy admitted to showing up at Sean’s house that night, but he denied having anything to do with the brick through the windshield. And, of course, he had a half-dozen friends who claimed they had been with him the whole time and not one of them had seen a brick in his hands.
In the pre-Zed days, Colt would have been looking at some time in juvenile lockup. In the Zed era, he’d probably have lost an ear. Now? The chief gave him a two-hundred dollar fine for breaking curfew and sent him on his way. Maybe the Zed Heads weren’t so wrong about the good old days after all.
“You have any idea how many eyes are on us?” the chief had asked Sean after Colt and his parents left. “You know how many people read each and every incident report I file? The State and the Feds are both looking for an excuse to come in and take over Rook Mountain law enforcement. Kids running around smashing cruiser windshields isn’t something they need to see. We’ll get it fixed off the books. And, please, let’s not go starting a war with these junior Zed Heads, okay?”
The chief wasn’t completely wrong. There was so much going on in town. Maybe vandalism, even against a police vehicle, shouldn’t be the priority right now. Sean knew the police should be concentrating on the string of disappearances.
There had been five since Deregulation Day. The first had been a former selectman. Then it had been a teenage boy and a teenage girl, both Zed Heads. Then the death row inmate. And now Sophie Porter, who had been visiting town to investigate the disappearance of her sister’s killer. Her parents were raising all sorts of hell and appearing on cable news eight times a day asking for help finding their missing daughter.