by Amy Cross
Eventually, after about an hour, there's a brief scream on the tape and the footsteps stop.
“Run!” a female voice screams suddenly. “Get out of here! Run!”
And then silence.
“It's probably just a rabbit,” my voice says after a moment, sounding a little concerned. “There's gotta be a ton of life out here.”
I sit and wait, and a moment later I hear my footsteps resume. There are still occasional cries in the distance, along with the persistent, ebbing and flowing moan, but apparently I just carried on walking as if nothing was wrong. My footsteps continue for a while, but eventually I seem to slow down as the moans get louder and louder, almost as if I've finally found the source.
“Run!” a woman screams. “For God's sake, run!”
“Hello?” my voice says suddenly, sounding completely calm. “Anyone home?”
“Don't open it!” another woman shouts. “Stop!”
There's a faint bump, almost like a door opening, and now the moaning sound is deafening. A moment later my voice continues calmly, saying something about a house, but most of the words are buried by the sound of the continued moan. The sound continues for another minute or two, before my footsteps can be heard again and the moan gets further away, as if I'm walking through the forest again. Staring at the recorded, I genuinely can't believe that I was apparently unable to hear all those crazy sounds around me, but I simply sit and listen to the sound of my footsteps until finally they stop again.
Someone's sobbing on the tape, but whoever it is, apparently I didn't hear them at the time.
“And there we have it,” my voice says confidently. “Looks like I made it through. I found the road.”
Still shivering with fear, I sit and listen to the hiss of the recorder for a few seconds. I have no idea what I was doing, but if it's true that I found the road then I don't understand how -
Suddenly there's a loud bump, followed by what sounds like a scuffle. I can hear myself trying to cry out, but my voice seems to be muffled and as the second tick past I realize that I seem to be being dragged along the ground. Static is building on the background of the tape, to the point that I can barely hear anything else, but finally I realize that there's a voice saying something. The words are muffled by the static, but it seems as if I was struggling desperately. A moment later I hear a few bumps, and then the static rumbles along.
“What did you think -” a loud, static-filled voice snarls suddenly, before being cut off as the tape's hiss flares.
For the next hour, I sit and listen as the static continues. There's nothing else to hear, but I feel I have to wait and listen to the whole thing, just in case another clue emerges. Almost catatonic with fear, I sit completely still, but the only sound on the recording comes about seventy minutes later, when I think I hear the sound of my voice screaming in agony for just a fraction of a second. After that, the recording continues for a few more minutes until suddenly the static fades away, leaving the hiss of the recorder and then, suddenly, a loud bump.
And then just the hiss again.
“What's happening?” I whisper, still staring at the recorder. “Please, what -”
Suddenly I hear a faint scrambling sound on the tape.
“What the...” I hear my voice saying. “What the fuck?”
I remember that part. It's from when I woke up at the side of the road, and sure enough I hear myself getting to my feet and unzipping my pocket, and then finally the recording comes to an abrupt halt. I sit in silence, staring at the recorder, before realizing that there's movement nearby.
Turning, I see Rita watching me with a frown.
“What were you listening to?” she asks cautiously.
I grab the recorder and slip it into my pocket. “None of your business.”
“But what was it?”
“How long were you standing there?”
She steps closer, scratching the back of her neck as if she only just woke up. “A couple of minutes.”
“Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to eavesdrop?” I ask, getting to my feet.
“Did you just get home from work?”
“I'm going out again.”
“Where?”
“I need to...” It takes a moment before I realize what I have to do. “Never mind,” I mutter, hurrying out the door into the cold morning air and making my way toward the road. I ignore Scottie as he calls out to me, and soon – even though I'm exhausted – I'm heading toward town. My body aches like hell and I need to sleep, but I'm too scared to just sit around doing nothing in that goddamn trailer.
I don't know what's happening to me, but I think I might be losing my mind.
II
“I've been looking for you everywhere!” I hiss, grabbing Glenda's arm and pulling her into the doorway. “Where have you -”
Stopping suddenly, I'm shocked to see that she has a black eye and several cuts and bruises on her face and neck.
“What the fuck happened to you?” I ask.
“It's nothing,” she replies, trying but failing to pull away from my grip. “Leave me alone.”
“That is not nothing,” I say firmly. “Jesus Christ, it looks like...” I pause for a moment, watching as tears start rolling down her cheeks. “Did someone hit you?” I continue, feeling a sense of rage rising in my chest. “Jesus Christ, Glenda, who did this to you?”
***
“Dave's not a bad person really,” she sobs a few minutes later, as we sit on the grass in the town square, “he just has trouble with his temper, that's all. He's trying to control it, I promise.”
“Oh that's okay, then,” I mutter. “As long as he's trying!”
“You don't know him,” she whispers, before breaking down again. Putting her head in her hands, she starts shivering uncontrollably.
“I don't wanna know him,” I tell her, putting an arm around her shoulder and hugging her tight. “I have a temper, remember? I don't go around hitting people, though. Jesus Christ, at some point we all have to learn to control our emotions” I pause for a moment, trying to work out how I can help her. “We need to get you the hell away from him,” I say finally.
“I tried,” she whimpers. “I went to stay with my aunt in Wiley, I even got a job there in a store, but he found me. He's got, like, friends who work for the county, and they just pulled my social security records and saw where I was working.”
“Fucking asshole,” I mutter.
“It's okay,” she continues. “If he just gets his temper under control, he'll be fine. And to be honest, I really need to learn how to stop antagonizing him. I know I can be kind of annoying sometimes and -”
“Shut up!” I hiss. “Don't even start thinking like that, okay?” Sighing, I watch as a few local residents go about their business, heading in and out of nearby shops. A few of them glance this way with disdainful, unimpressed faces, and I can tell they think we're both just dumb trailer park trash. “We have to find a way to get you away from him,” I mutter, “and then we have to make sure he can't track you down.”
“It's hopeless,” she replies. “Any time I rent a room or get a job, he'll be about to find me.” She sniffs back some more tears. “I guess I should just give him another chance. I mean, he obviously loves me a lot or he wouldn't keep trying to find me every time I run away. And I love him too, or at least...”
As her voice trails off, I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. After searching through it for a moment, I find my I.D. cards. Slowly, an idea starts to form in the back of my mind.
“Have you got your I.D. on you?” I ask finally.
“Why?”
“Just get it out.”
As soon as she holds up her license, I snatch it from her and shove mine into her hand.
“Shannon, what are you -”
“We look kinda similar, right?” I ask.
“Sure, but -”
“So get away from here,” I continue, “and use my I.D. for a while. I've got things to do,
but I won't need it, I'll hang onto yours in case I get desperate.”
“We can't do that!”
“It's better than letting that asshole Dave get his hands on you again!”
“But it's, like, illegal!”
“It's not like we're gonna do anything bad,” I point out. “Just use it when you get a job somewhere, and that way Dave won't be able to find you. It's a no-brainer, Glenda, so just trust me and give it a try!”
She hesitates, but I can tell I've already won her over.
“What are you going to do?” she asks cautiously.
“I can't just sit around here,” I mutter, my hands trembling slightly. I was planning to tell Glenda everything, but suddenly that feels like the worst possible plan. She'd probably think I'm nuts, and maybe I am nuts, but I'm starting to think that it's too dangerous for me to go back into the forest and explore what's really happening. Instead, I need to take Rita and get the hell out of this place, and we need to go far enough away that the forest can become someone else's problem. I'm not a hero. I just want to survive. “I'll think of something,” I add finally. “I just need a little more time.”
“There's a diner advertising some jobs,” she replies. “It's not too far from here, but I figure it's just far enough that Dave won't happen to wander in. Why don't you come and we can try to muddle along together?”
“I need to go further away,” I tell her. “I'll explain it all one day, but for now... I have to go and sort some things out, and then I'll come back and we can move onto another plan. For now, it just has to be like this.”
I pause for a moment, before leaning over and giving her a hug.
“Stay safe,” she says, kissing the side of my neck, “and come back soon.”
“Count on it,” I tell her, as I close my eyes and try to work out what the hell I'm going to do. “I won't let this thing beat me.”
***
“Where are you going?”
Stopping in the trailer's doorway, I turn to see that Rita is watching me.
“I've got work, remember?” I tell her, forcing a smile. “I need to earn money.”
“If you're going to work,” she replies with a frown, “why do you look so scared?”
“Scared? Me?” I try to laugh off such an absurd suggestion, but I can see from the look in her eyes that she's not convinced. Damn it, my little sister is getting pretty good at reading me as she gets older. “I'm planning something,” I add, “but it's gonna take a little while, and I need you to be patient.”
“What are you planning?”
“I'm gonna get us out of here,” I continue. “I swear to God, Rita, our lives will not be spent sitting around in this crappy trailer park.” As if to underline that sentiment, I suddenly realize that I can hear Mom snoring in her room. She's drunk, as usual. “We won't be like her.”
“Maybe I can help,” Rita says, coming over to join me in the doorway. “I'm not a kid, you know. Tell me what you need me to do.”
“Just hang tight.”
“But -”
“And stop asking so many questions,” I tell her, leaning closer and kissing the top of her head. “You trust me, don't you? I'm your big sister, you're obliged by law to trust me.” I wait for a reply, but it's clear that she's uncertain. “I'll never let you down,” I continue, hoping to give her a little more confidence in the future. “This place sucks, in ways that I can't even explain to you just yet, but please don't ever doubt a single word I say to you.”
“Can I borrow some of your cologne?” she asks suddenly.
I frown. “Why?”
“I just like it.”
“Are you trying to get a boy's attention?”
“Gross!” she replies. “No!”
“It wouldn't be so bad if you were,” I tell her. “As long as it's a guy who treats you right.”
She shakes her head. “I just... I don't want to always be a kid. I thought I should start wearing cologne.”
“You're growing up,” I reply. “You're right on the edge between...” My voice trails off for a moment as I realize there's a hint of desperation in her eyes. “Go for it,” I say finally, “but don't use too much, okay? That stuff isn't cheap, and I try to make one bottle last me a year.” Stepping out of the trailer, I spot Scottie sitting nearby as usual, and then I turn back to Rita. “Remember the rules?”
“Don't drink any of the stuff Mom's drinking,” she replies.
“And?”
“Don't stay up too late.”
“And?”
She pauses. “Don't go through your stuff?”
“And?”
“And don't go into the forest.”
“Sleep well,” I reply, checking my watch and seeing that it's almost 9pm. “I have to get to work. See you in the morning.”
Turning and walking away, I make my way toward the main road. I wasn't lying to Rita, I am going to work, but only so I can earn some more money and hopefully get us the hell out of this place. Glancing up at the dark forest, I remind myself that I have to ignore my curiosity and never, ever go in there again. In the morning, when I walk home, I have to take the long route along the road.
Nothing's going to stand in my way. Whatever's in that forest, let it rot.
III
“No!” I shout, suddenly sitting up and looking around. I'm on the tarmac once again, with the morning sun just starting to rise over the horizon, and I can already feel several fresh cuts and bruises on my arms and chest. I try to get to my feet, but my left ankle hurts too much so instead I crawl back onto the grass and find myself looking up once again at the dark forest.
I let out a gasp of pain when I try to move my foot.
“What the fuck?” I stammer, trying not to panic. “What the hell happened?”
I try to remember how I got here, but once again my memory is hazy. I remember going to work last night, and I remember getting to BarraBuy and putting my stuff into a locker. After that, things are a little more vague and although I'm pretty sure I completed my shift, I don't remember anything beyond the moment when I grabbed my things from the locker and headed out to the parking lot. I know I had no intention of walking back through the forest, but at the same time I don't remember heading to the road.
Wait, I have a flickering memory of...
“I need to practice that some more,” Harvey said at some point, after dropping a bunch of playing cards on the floor in the staff room. “Hey, I have this other trick you have to see.”
Great. I think I let him show off his magic skills for a while during my break, but other than that...
Still staring at the forest, I tell myself that there's no way I would've been stupid enough to walk through there again, not after everything I heard on the recording. At the same time, I have the faintest memory of reaching the far end of the BarraBuy parking lot after my shift and...
And making my way between the trees.
“No,” I stammer, checking my pockets but quickly remembering that I didn't use the audio recorder this time. After all, I'd decided I definitely wouldn't go through the forest again. “What the hell?” I mutter, finally getting to my feet despite the pain in my ankle. I swear, I can feel blood in my sock. “How fucking stupid can I be?”
I don't know what happened last night to make me change my mind, but as I turn and start limping along the side of the road I can't help worrying that somehow my thought processes must have been affected. After a few feet I have another flash of memory, and this time I realize that it was almost as if something reached out from the forest this morning and teased me, encouraging me to go into the darkness. I know the whole idea sounds insane, but I swear to God that must be what happened.
“Fuck you,” I hiss, glancing at the forest and imagining something watching me from between the trees. “Fuck you and -”
Hearing the sound of a car approaching, I turn and see a vehicle pulling up. As the window slides down, I realize that it's the doctor I met a few days ago on this same stretch
of road.
“Leave me alone!” I say firmly, before turning and limping on. A moment later, however, I hear her car door opening, followed by the sound of footsteps. “What do you want?” I shout, glancing back at her. “Do you have nothing better to do with your time than drive along this stinking road every morning?”
“I'm on my way to work,” she replies, staring at me with an expression of pure shock, “but... What happened to you this time?”
“Nothing,” I mutter, although when I reach up and touch my face I realize that there's a flap of torn skin hanging from just above my eyebrow. When I press a fingertip into the wound, it stings and I let out a faint gasp.
“Okay,” the woman says, reaching out to grab my arm, “I'm not going to take no for an answer this time. You have to come with me right now and we'll get you some medical treatment, and then -”
I pull away from her. “No!”
“What the hell is going on here?” she asks, clearly exasperated by my refusal. “Is someone doing this to you?”
I shake my head.
“Are you doing it to yourself?”
“Of course not.”
“Then what's happening? And don't tell me it's none of my business, because you look like you need help. If no-one else is going to do anything, then maybe it is my business. I'm a doctor, for Christ's sake, I have a duty to help people.” She waits for an answer. “I'm not trying to get you into trouble,” she continues, “and it won't cost you a penny, but can't you at least let me drive you to my surgery so I can take a look at you? I can give you something for the pain.” She glances at my ankle. “What happened to your foot?”