by Sam Best
Suddenly, Hank was back in his childhood. Fear of the dark and nightmares about the monster that haunted him from the closet flooded his memory. He felt warmth in his pants as his bladder released. The thing from the closet was standing next to him, growing taller, looming above. Hank looked up at it and saw a patch of wet, raw flesh before he clamped his eyes shut and started to cry—not tears of joy as they were before, but the hot tears of terror.
Steaming breath fell past his head from above. A stench of rotting meat forced its way up Hank’s nose and down into his belly, leaving painful knots along the way. Hank could hear the thing’s jaw crack wider as it opened its mouth over his head. He wanted to shout for Martha, to ask her for help, but he knew it was useless. He knew his Martha was gone forever.
A hundred razor-sharp teeth slowly pierced his skull. Hank Buckley’s last thoughts were of he and his wife at the top of Mt. Hodges, laying together in the fading light as the sun set over the valley below.
14
Ben and John rode to the school in silence. All of the shops were closed, even Hank Buckley’s perennial hardware and general. The sun was going to set in a little over an hour and the bright orange light it cast across the city stretched the Cherokee’s shadow up onto the trees that lined the road to the elementary school.
Only a dozen or so vehicles were in the parking lot when Ben pulled into an empty space near the main building. A few of the drivers sat in their cars watching a small cluster of people that had gathered at the edge of the lot near the woods.
Just after Ben and John stepped out of the Jeep, two police cruisers sped onto the lot and parked near the group of milling volunteer searchers. Walt Foster and Karen Raines stepped out of their cars and huddled together over the hood of Walt’s cruiser with a large paper map. The other folks who had agreed to help with the search for Amy Cooke got out of their cars and walked over to join the crowd. Ben and John followed them and stood quietly as Deputies Foster and Raines spoke to each other in hushed tones.
“Okay,” said Foster loudly. He looked up from the map and frowned at the group of people. “Is this it?”
Raines stepped past him and approached the crowd. “Thank you for coming. Many of you know the Cookes. Their daughter, Amy, goes to Falling Rock Elementary.” She nodded at the school. “A couple of hours ago we received a report from her teacher, Ms. Rathman, that Amy didn’t come in from recess. No one has heard from her since. She was last seen playing near the edge of the woods behind the school. That will be the starting point of our search. We tried contacting her parents so they could be here, but they’re not home and their whereabouts are unknown at this time.” She turned back to look at Foster.
“Okay, look,” said Walt. “Some of you know these woods, but a lot of you don’t. If you don’t, try to group up with someone familiar with the terrain. It’s not that hard, regardless. These woods here,” he said, pointing toward the thick line of trees behind the school, “run straight back for a hundred yards or so before dipping down into the valley. Since we only have about an hour of usable daylight left, we’ll focus our search on those hundred yards. If you start to notice that you’re going downhill too steeply, turn back.”
There were nods of understanding from the people in the small crowd. Ben thought most of them looked like the outdoors type. Many were wearing hiking boots and a couple older men had fabricated walking poles.
“Try to stay within eyesight of at least one other group,” Foster continued. “If you feel like you’re getting bunched up, do your best to spread out. The more ground we cover, the more chance Amy Cooke has of being found.” He looked at his watch. “Meet back here in an hour-twenty.” He turned away from the group, dismissing them.
The search party split off into small groups of twos and threes and walked into the woods behind the school. Most of them had flashlights, blankets, and bottles of water in case they found Amy.
Foster closed his car door and looked at Ben. “So you made it after all,” he said. Raines looked at Ben while she folded up the map before tucking it into the side pocket of her pants.
“I didn’t bring a flashlight,” said Ben.
“Of course you didn’t,” said Foster. He turned and walked away.
Raines pulled her own heavy-duty flashlight from her belt and handed it to Ben. “Don’t lose that, it’s city property.”
“Thanks,” said Ben. “This is my Uncle, John Howard.”
“Nice to meet you,” she said.
John removed his baseball cap and shook her hand. “Pleasure’s mine.”
“Hell of a partner you got there,” said Ben.
“He’s something, isn’t he? Well, you two be careful. Give a shout if you see anything.” She walked off after Foster.
John watched her leave, then turned to Ben and wiggled his eyebrows up and down.
“Yeah,” said Ben. “I noticed. Let’s get a move on, old man.”
* * *
The woods were usually buzzing with the noises of early-evening activity at that time of day, but insects and birds were nowhere to be seen. The temperature should have been steadily lowering as the sun dropped toward the horizon, but the day’s unseasonable heat still permeated the woods and seemed to be inexplicably increasing. Without any breeze, Ben started sweating not long after stepping into the forest.
He and John walked next to each other, both looking everywhere for any signs of Amy Cooke or the sheriff. Other search parties shouted her name in the distance.
“Why do you think they didn’t mention the sheriff?” asked John.
“Maybe they didn’t want to scare anyone,” said Ben.
“Maybe they don’t think we’re gonna find him at all.”
The words dug deep into Ben and further unnerved him.
“Wolves,” said John.
“What? Where?” said Ben, looking around.
“Oh, sorry. Not here. I meant to tell you earlier at the house, you got wolves. Saw a big paw print out back after Heidi and I got there. Could have been an old print, but…” He shrugged.
“You know an old print when you see one, John.”
“That’s true.”
Ben’s stomach went cold. He thought Annabelle had been making up the story about the wolves in their backyard. If it were true, then his daughter could have easily been carried off into the woods. If they got her by the throat, Ben never would have heard her scream and he would have spent the rest of his days wandering around the valley, calling for his daughter just like the searchers were doing for Amy Cooke.
“Wolves wouldn’t come this close to the school, right?” asked Ben. “Too much noise.”
“Maybe,” said John. “But a hungry animal will do anything for a meal if it can’t find game elsewhere.”
“I need to build a fence,” said Ben.
John smiled. “I think I got time to help you, if you don’t mind me and Heidi settin’ up camp on your front lawn for a couple weeks.”
“Fine by me. I’m sure Anna would love to have you around as well. How’s your back? She does this thing now where she likes to climb up and wrap her arms around my neck.”
“I’m sure I could handle a jump or two,” said John.
“You did alright earlier.”
The woods darkened as they walked. Ben turned back to look at the school but saw only trees. Dead leaves crunched underfoot as the two men walked. They shouted for Amy when they hadn’t heard another group calling for a long minute.
“How you doin, Ben?” asked John.
“Sweaty and tired.” Ben had the feeling it was a more serious question, but he couldn’t look at his Uncle when he answered. “I’m okay most days. It was hard for both of us at first. Still is.”
“Heidi and I both want you to know that we think you’re doing a fine job with Annabelle. She couldn’t have a better father.”
Ben clenched his teeth when he thought of his daughter growing up without a mother. God, how he missed Marissa.
The shar
p snap of a twig brought Ben back to reality. He stopped and looked over in the direction of the noise but saw nothing. “Amy?” he called.
“What is it?” asked John. He stopped and squinted in the direction Ben was looking.
“Didn’t you hear that?”
The woods were silent. Ben played the piercing beam of his flashlight over the ground nearby, illuminating dead leaves and fallen branches. He clicked off the light and looked up at the sky.
John humphed. “With these ears, I’d be lucky to hear a plane right before it fell on me. Come on, we should probably turn back. Let’s head that way this time.” He pointed in a direction that would swing them in a wide arc through the woods behind the school and drop them near the front of the lot where they had started the search.
Ben had only taken one step when he heard another twig snap nearby. This time when he stopped and looked over, Marissa was standing behind a thick tree about thirty feet away. She smiled at him and disappeared behind the trunk.
“I—” said Ben. He stared after her, mouth open in shock.
“What?” said John. “You hear another squirrel? Let’s get goin’, kid. It’s gonna be completely dark soon.”
Ben wasn’t listening. He was hurrying after Marissa. She laughed—a distant, echoing noise—and ran quickly through the woods. She vanished behind another tree farther down the gentle decline which led to the valley.
“Hey!” called John. “Wrong way, Ben! Did you see something?”
Ben ignored him. He ignored everything—the sound of his feet crunching over dead leaves and his own heavy breaths as he ran after his beautiful wife. He knew she was gone, knew it was only a trick of his imagination, but he still wanted to catch her—to hold her in his arms.
He stumbled over a thick root and a heavy branch slapped him in the face. Ben spit out a leaf and pulled a strand of spider-silk from his eyes. Marissa ducked from tree to tree, peering out from behind the trunks and smiling at him. Her eyes glistened sharply, inviting him forward, inviting him to join her and love her forever.
Ben almost caught up to her when John grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” said John. “I shouted for you twenty times! Didn’t think I could catch you, is that it?”
“Did you see her?” asked Ben. He was breathing quickly, trying to catch his breath. John’s hand still gripped his shoulder and Ben shrugged it off. “I saw her.”
“Who, Amy?”
Ben huffed in frustration. Of course John wouldn’t understand. He still had Heidi, so how could he possibly know what Ben was going through? It had all seemed so real. Marissa. Her face, her clothes, her laugh—all of it was just as Ben remembered, only…what was the word for it? Sharper, somehow, as if the Marissa in the woods was even more real than she had been before she died.
“Ben,” said John.
Ben looked in the direction Marissa had gone, his eyes wide and searching. He could no longer hear her laughing, but he still wanted to find her.
“Ben. What’s that on the ground?”
“What?” Finally the spell was broken. He turned slowly, dumbly, to look at John, who was standing still as stone. His eyes were wide and unblinking as he looked at a small, dark red lump half-hidden by a bush a few feet away.
Ben clicked on the flashlight and shined it on the object. The lump glistened wetly in the light.
“Oh, no,” said John as they walked over.
Ben kept the flashlight trained on the ground near the bush as they stepped around to the other side. Laying in the dirt and half-covered in dead leaves was the skinned body of a human.
“My God,” said John. He took a few steps away and vomited into a bush.
“It’s too big to be the girl,” said Ben. He swallowed thickly and pressed the back of his forearm to his nose, stifling the urge to be sick. The skinned person had easily been at least six feet tall. Ben quickly shined the flashlight over the corpse, more to keep from gagging than anything else. All of the skin had been completely removed, leaving a covering of congealed blood and exposed muscle. A black shoe was on one of the feet.
The light flashed on a gold piece of metal near the body’s chest. It was shaped like a star and had writing in the center.
“Let’s get the deputies over here,” said Ben. “Right now.”
* * *
Foster and Raines stood next to the body, flashlights pointed at the ground near their own feet. According to them, they were looking down at the remains of Sheriff Roy Mills.
“Damn,” said Foster quietly.
“We don’t know that it’s him,” said Raines. She swallowed hard and waited for a shiver to pass. “We don’t know that it’s Roy.”
“Look at the badge,” said Foster. “And the shoe. Didn’t you say you found one of Roy’s shoes in his car. Only one?” He knelt down next to the body’s feet and looked carefully at the black shoe. “There’s no skin underneath.”
“So?” asked John.
“So whoever did this to him put the shoe back on after they were finished,” said Ben.
“One point for Benji,” said Foster. “I’m gonna kill that preacher.”
“Look at the badge, too,” said Raines.
Walt shined the beam on the deceased sheriff’s chest and over the badge. “It’s stuck in there good,” he said. “Pushed down into the skin.” He stood and looked at his watch. “Let’s head to the cars. I’ll grab a bag and try to get back here before anything else finds him.”
The four of them walked through the woods in silence. Foster and Raines went first, shining their lights on the ground ahead. A faint orange glow still clung to the sky, but the woods below the canopy were heavily shadowed.
Ben spent most of the walk thinking about Marissa. His daughter was just like her in so many ways, from the curl of her hair to her insatiable curiosity. He frowned at the thought of the wolves in his backyard. There was no way a wolf could have done that to the sheriff. That was the work of a conscious mind; a sinister mind.
They emerged from the woods near the edge of the parking lot. A few other searchers were huddled together near the cars, but most had not yet returned. Foster walked over to his cruiser and pulled out the radio handset.
“Walt,” said Raines. He stopped just before clicking the transmit button on the receiver. “I’ll tell her.”
Foster nodded and replaced the handset. He walked around to the trunk of the police cruiser. He opened it and pulled out a rolled-up body bag along with several pairs of latex gloves.
Karen walked over to the group of searchers and let them know that it was alright to leave. She told everyone who was interested to meet back at the school at six a.m. for another round of searching. They all shook hands before getting into their cars and driving away. She walked back to Ben and John.
“I’m sorry,” said Ben. “About the sheriff. And Amy.”
She sighed. “It looks like a few people are staying tonight. The rest of us will keep looking tomorrow. You’re welcome to join us, of course.”
Ben and John both nodded.
“Yeah, Benji,” said Foster. “Early bird gets the worm.”
“He’s an ass,” said Raines. “Ignore him. That’s what I do.”
“Solid advice,” said Ben. “You two are okay here? I want to get back home to my daughter.”
Foster laughed. “Stick around and protect us, Howard!”
“We’ll be fine,” said Raines. “Thanks for your help today.” She shook both of their hands and walked over to speak with Foster.
After Raines was out of earshot, John turned to Ben. “How am I supposed to sleep after a thing like that?”
“How are any of us?”
John patted Ben on the back before they got into the Cherokee and drove out of the school parking lot.
15
Karen stood and watched the taillights of Ben’s Cherokee bounce as the vehicle hit a small bump before turning onto Main Street.
“I’ll stay on for a while,” said Karen. Doing so meant breaking the news to Janet Hayes back at the station that Sheriff Mills was dead as well as dropping the body off at the morgue. She could trust the latter to Foster easily enough, but she felt like she should be the one to tell Janet.
They walked into the woods, Walt leading the way with his flashlight.
“What do you know about him?” asked Karen.
“Who, Ben? Went to school together. Ran track with him senior year. Bit of a jerkoff, since you’re asking my opinion.”
“So you don’t like him.”
Walt shrugged. “We got in a few fights. Normal stuff for kids our age. He thinks he’s better than everyone else in this town. That’s why he left in the first place.” Foster went silent for a moment as they walked. “He tried to date my sister.”
Karen laughed. “Now I get it. So what, he broke her heart?”
“I said he tried to date her. Luckily I was there to help him see the error of his ways. Why are you so interested, anyway? Got a bit of a crush on Benji?”
“Him? Hardly. Just wondering about the new person in town, that’s all. With everyone leaving for the winter, it’s weird to get someone moving back.”
“He’s a queer duck, that Benji. Speaking of winter, I’d be happy for a cool breeze right about now. Jesus.” Walt wiped sweat from his brow and shook it from his hand. Karen followed him up and over a small mound of dirt and past more trees. The woods around them were still and silent; she hadn’t heard a noise all evening.
Karen tried to distract herself from the upcoming task by thinking about how she was going to tell Janet about the sheriff. Roy and Janet had shared a connection, even if neither ever admitted it to anyone else. Karen decided she would swing by on the way to the morgue since the Sheriff’s Office wasn’t too far from the school. Maybe then Janet could finally go home and get some rest—assuming she wanted to rest in the first place. It was doubtful someone would be at the morgue to let Karen in at that hour, so she could grab the extra key at the station while she was there.