by Amy Cross
“Hey,” I stammer, finally getting my shit together as I head over to the door, “sorry, you scared the crap out of me.”
I reach out to open the door.
“So are you -”
Stopping suddenly, I realize that the woman's mouth is moving, even though I don't hear her saying anything.
“What's that?” I ask, peering past her but seeing only the dark forest. She seems to be alone, but when I turn back to her I can't help noticing that she really seems to be staring at me.
I wait a moment, poised to open the door, but after a few seconds I realize I think I can lip-read what she's trying to say.
Let me in.
“Let you in?” I whisper, feeling a shudder pass through my chest as I remember the warning Laurel gave me on my first day.
This is a prank.
Laurel sent someone to screw with my head.
Either that, or it's just a coincidence.
“Okay,” I say, forcing a smile even though I've got to admit I feel a little creeped out, “that's cool. I can play along.”
I turn and look over at the radio equipment, tempted to see if I can get Laurel back before she leaves work, but then I figure it'd be funnier to just play along with the prank. Turning back to the door, I'm about to turn the handle when I realize that the woman has disappeared.
I hesitate for a moment, but she's gone.
After sliding the door open, I step out onto the porch and look around, but there's really no sign of her.
“Hello?” I call out. “Is anyone...”
My voice trails off.
This is dumb. I'm dumb. I have no idea what just caused my sleep-deprived mind to vomit up that particular encounter, but I also know there's no way anyone could get away from the cabin that fast, not without making a noise. Figuring that I should double-check that nobody's lurking, I step down onto the grass and walk all the way around the cabin, but by the time I get back to the front I've already come to realize that the whole thing must have been the product of some mis-firing neurons.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I tell myself that I need to get a grip. No more hallucinations for Johnny.
Day 70
“Cool beans,” I whisper, standing in a sunny clearing and staring up at another little stick figure that somebody left hanging from a tree branch.
Reaching up, I carefully unhook the figure so I can take a closer look. It's definitely in the same style as the figure I found a month or so ago, although this one seems just a little more elaborate, as if the hippie made more effort. I turn the figure around a few times, before figuring that I should just set it back where I found it. I reach up and try to hook it back onto the piece of string, only to find that it immediately falls to the ground.
“Come on,” I mutter, trying again, with the same result.
Then again.
And again.
Until finally, when the stick figure falls to the ground for a fifth time, I realize that maybe it's just not destined to hang from the tree anymore. In fact, the damn thing seems to have fallen apart slightly, so I guess there's not much more I can do.
“Sorry, little dude,” I say with a sigh, stepping past the figure and continuing my trek. “I'm sure you'll be fine and dandy down there.”
***
“And now you are going to die, motherf -”
Suddenly the alien ship explodes. I tilt the Switch, trying to get my carrier out of the way in time, but the game is already serving up a whole load of extra mini-ships. I swear, I was only gonna play this game for half an hour this evening, but I've been suckered into a serious marathon and I must have been playing for over two hours now.
And I am totally aware of the irony here.
I'm in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, on a cool summer evening, and I'm choosing to spend my time sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing Lords of the Sable Galaxy with the volume turned up to max.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Come on, come on,” I mutter, tilting the Switch again as another alien ship gets blasted to hell. The explosion is loud, as is the music from the game, and I've got to admit that I'm totally drawn into this thing right now. The rest of the world might as well not exist.
“More ships coming up from the planet's surface!” a female voice announces, and I tilt the Switch just in time to see that she's right: two dozen little black triangles are roaring this way, and I have no goddamn idea how I'm going to stop them.
And I need a toilet break.
“Damn it,” I whisper under my breath, sending my ship flying around to the far side of the base vessel, hoping for some cover while I come up with a plan. I'm going to have to engage the bad guys head-on and hope I have enough of a team left to take the bastards down, but first...
First I really need to go to the bathroom. Maybe I can think of a plan B while I'm taking a poop.
“Sorry guys,” I mutter, hitting the pause button just as another ship explodes, “but I -”
“Let me in.”
Startled, I toss the Switch aside and get to my feet. When I turn and look over at the glass door, I'm shocked to see that there's a girl standing right outside on the porch, and I immediately recognize her as the same girl who briefly appeared last month. She's even wearing the same clothes.
“Let me in,” she says again, knocking gently on the glass.
“Jesus!” I say with a grin, and I have to admit my heard is pounding. “How long have you been out there?”
I wait, but now she's simply staring at me. And still not blinking. I can't help realizing that with the game's volume turned up high, I never would have heard her while I was playing. She could have been out there for a while.
“Okay,” I say after a moment, placing my hands on my hips. “Fine. I'll play. What's going on? What's the deal, huh?”
Again I wait, but she's still staring at me with that blank, unyielding expression.
“Must've taken a lot of practice,” I suggest, taking a couple of steps toward the door. When she still doesn't reply, I point at my eyes. “The not blinking part, I mean. It's pretty impressive. Are you using some kind of special lens that, I dunno, moistens your eyes or something? That's some impressive dedication to the craft of the prank.”
I step even closer, until I'm just a few feet from her. With the glass door between us, of course.
“I'm waiting,” I tell her. “Go on, blink. Just once. If you blink, then maybe I'll -”
“Let me in.”
“That's what I was about to tell you. You need to blink first, and then I'll let you in.”
“Let me in.”
“So have you got some friends out there, or is it just you? I've gotta admit, I'm impressed by your persistence. I like the way you showed up last month, just to give me a little scare, and then you came back to really tighten the screw. That's some serious long-term planning. I'm assuming Laurel put you up to this, right? That little minx is -”
“Let me in.”
I can't help smiling.
“Let me in.”
“Yeah, sure, but not until you blink.”
I wait, but she's still just staring at me.
“Do you know what I have in that box over there?” I ask, pointing toward one of the boxes I brought up here when I arrived. “Beer. And liquor. Quite a lot, actually. We could have ourselves a decent little party if you're willing to cut the low-rent spook crap and just let your hair down. What do you say? Are you up for a little fun tonight?”
No reply.
“You're being pretty method about this, aren't you?” I continue, before figuring that I need to speed things up a little.
Sighing, I reach out to open the door.
“Okay, you -”
“Let me in.”
I freeze, with my hand resting on the handle, ready to slide the door open.
“Let me in.”
Looking into the girl's eyes, I can't deny that I feel just a little freaked out right now. Like, I know this
is all just some kind of giant prank, but it's a good prank. And at the back of my mind, I can't help worrying that maybe it's less of a prank and more of a robbery. I mean, hell, this girl might be waiting to lure me out so her buddies can come at me with baseball bats. The odds of that are low, of course, but a guy can never be too careful.
And this chick does look like a bit of a wildcat.
“Let me in,” she says again.
“So what's your name?”
“Let me in.”
“That's not your name.”
I wait, but she's still staring at me.
“I'll make a deal with you,” I continue, as I glance past her once more and watch the tree-line, worried in case anybody else shows up. “If you want to come in, you have to do one of two things. Either blink or, if that's too difficult, say something else. Anything else.”
“Let me in.”
“That's not how it's gonna work.”
“Let me in.”
“Okay, then. If you don't wanna play along.”
With a grin, I grab the drape and pull it across, covering the door so that at least I can't see the girl. She'll crack now. She has to. I mean, now I'm not playing along with her little game, she'll have to try something different.
“Let me in,” I hear her say from the other side of the glass.
“I'm busy now!” I call out, turning and heading across the room, making my way toward the bathroom. “It's your loss, though. We could be having quite the party right now if you'd just meet me halfway. But if you'd rather just stay out there and try to pull this tacky shit, go right ahead. It's no skin off my nose!”
A few minutes later, once I'm sitting on the toilet, I've got to admit that I feel a little less cocky. I can't hear a goddamn thing, but I can't help listening out in case there's any sign of people moving around outside. In fact, sitting here on the can with my pants down, I'm starting to wonder whether that girl actually was sent here to distract me. Maybe some local assholes know about the dumb stories associated with the forest, and they figured they'd try to trick me into going outside so they could knock me out and steal my stuff. Or worse.
“This had better be a prank,” I mutter once I'm done in the bathroom.
When I get back out into the main room, I look toward the door and see that the drapes are still drawn. I can't hear anyone out there, but a shudder runs down my spine as I imagine that goddamn girl still standing there. Hell, when I open the drapes again, maybe she'll start up with those three dumb words again.
“Let me in,” I say under my breath, as I head over to the drapes, figuring I have to open them and take a look. “Yeah right, bitch.”
I hesitate for a moment, before pulling the drapes open.
She's gone.
Thank the maker.
Leaning closer to the glass, I cup my hands around my eyes so I can see outside properly, but there's definitely nobody on the porch, or even on the grass out the front of the cabin. I hesitate for a moment, before grabbing my trusty baseball bat and sliding the door open.
Stepping out onto the porch, I take another look around, but the entire clearing is completely deserted.
“Is anyone there?” I call out.
Silence.
Even the trees are still.
“Okay, then,” I mutter, swinging the bat over my shoulder as I head back inside. “Whatever, man. Some people just have a weird idea of fun.”
Day 95
As soon as I'm out of the river, I start making my way back toward the spot where I laid my clothes. I'm soaking wet and dripping water everywhere, but it's kind of nice being naked out here all alone in the middle of nowhere, just communing with nature.
Getting back to my roots.
Of course, I've got my phone on, blasting some U2 tunes for the local wildlife to enjoy. I've been stuck with the same music while I've been out here, thanks to the lack of signal, but a spot of U2 never gets stale.
Just as I reach down to grab a towel, however, I hear a brief crackling sound nearby. I turn, half-expecting to see some random-ass hiker come stumbling out of the forest, but there's no sign of anyone. I wait a moment longer, just in case, and then I turn back to start drying my hair.
And then I see it.
There's a little bundle of twigs on the ground, just a couple of feet past my clothes. I swear the damn thing wasn't there a few minutes ago, but there's no way anyone could have come this close without me noticing something. I glance around one more time, just to make sure there are no peepers hiding in any of the bushes, and then I wander over and pick the bundle up.
Although it's a little different to the others I've found over the past few months, I reckon it was probably made by the same person. There are six sticks, tied together at different points to form a kind of star shape. Holding the bundle up, I turn it around in an attempt to see whether there's anything more to the construction, but it seems like a pretty primitive thing. I guess it must have been on the ground all this time after all, and I simply didn't notice.
After chucking the little wooden bundle away, I start drying myself off.
***
“Sorry the weather's forcing us to leave you up there one more night,” Laurel says over the radio, her voice barely rising above the crackle of static. “You must be itching to come back down to civilization.”
“You'd be surprised,” I reply, leaning back in the armchair as I stare over at the window. I can see the tops of the trees outside, silhouetted against the starry sky. “One more night won't kill me.”
“You don't sound like you've gone native.”
“I'm fine,” I tell her, “even after your little so-called joke a while back.”
“And what joke might that be?”
“Come on,” I continue, figuring that perhaps I should finally tell her I saw through the whole thing. Up until now, I've kept quiet during our radio chats, hoping to provoke her into showing her hand, but I reckon my last night would be a good time to get the truth out of her. “Admit it. You're a little disappointed that I didn't totally freak out.”
I hear her chatting to someone in the background for a moment.
“What was that?” she asks finally, sounding a little distracted. “Sorry. Paperwork. You know how it is.”
I open my mouth to call her out on the dumb little stunt, but then I realize that maybe I could drive her properly crazy by not mentioning anything at all.
“Nothing,” I say finally.
“Nothing?”
“Nope.”
“Are you sure? What did you mean just now? You said something about a joke.”
“Did I?”
“You're being mysterious on purpose tonight, aren't you?”
“I should get off the line now,” I tell her. “Unless you've got anything else you want to say to me.”
“Such as?”
“An apology, maybe.”
I wait for a reply, but now she's fallen silent. I guess maybe I've finally called her bluff and she's starting to realize her little games haven't worked. Just as I'm about to tell her she's forgiven, and to ask for the strange girl's Twitter handle so I can send her a message, I hear other voices crackling on the line, as if Laurel's talking to someone else.
“I've gotta go,” she tells me suddenly. “We've got a leaky roof.”
“Sure, but first -”
“Someone'll be up to fetch you tomorrow, Johnny. Have a fun last night.”
“Hey, wait a -”
Suddenly the radio goes dead, and I realize to my surprise that she's actually hung up on me. I guess the only possible explanation is that she couldn't face confessing to her little prank, so she invented some other emergency. As I set the radio equipment aside, I can't help thinking that she could have handled that better, although after a moment another idea pops into my mind.
She has a crush on me.
Yeah, that explains everything.
Laurel has a crush on me, and she's worried she's embarrassed herself.
/> Putting my hands on my hips as I stand in the middle of the room, I can't help grinning. I mean, Laurel's not a bad looker, although she's a little more pear-shaped than my usual type. Still, I reckon we could have a fun night together, so long as she promised not to get all clingy and -
Hearing a bumping sound, I look over at the window, half-expecting to see someone.
All I see, however, is my own reflection.
I can just about make out the distant tree-line, but I guess the bumping sound must have just been some wild animal near the cabin, or maybe some old pipe that decided to hit the roof.
Still, I wait for a moment, just to be sure.
Then I turn away.
And then, out of the corner of my eye, I see her.
I turn back toward the window. Someone's running this way, racing out of the forest and coming straight toward the cabin. I can barely make the figure out, since the window is mostly filled by the reflection of the bright cabin, so I hurry to the wall and switch the light off, which allows me to see that there's definitely someone coming this way.
She stumbles on the steps, falling to her knees, but she manages to get up and race across the porch, finally slamming against the glass door.
It's her.
It's the girl from before.
“Let me in!” she shouts, her voice filled with panic as she presses her blood-stained hands against the glass. “Let me in!”
I hurry over to help, but at the last moment I see her face and realize that not only is it the same girl, but this time she's naked and covered in wounds. Whole sections of flesh have been torn away from her face, left hanging from her cheeks and chin.
“Let me in!” she screams, banging her fists against the glass with such force the the entire door shakes in its frame. “Let me in! Let me in! Let me in!”
“Hold on,” I stammer, “what's wrong?”
“Let me in!”
She tries to get up off the floor, but there are thick, ruptured wounds running down her chest and belly. One of her breasts has been almost completely sliced away, exposing thick red and purple meat, while there's a long cut on her abdomen that's allowing something pink and glistening to poke out. When she tries yet again to stand, I see to my horror that her right leg has been almost completely ripped away at the hip, exposing a large, gleaming nub of bone.